#elsewhere

Thistle won't admit it, but she asks questions to keep the comforting chatter going. But then, Marigold knows.

Eventually, Marigold can hear the sleep creeping into Thistle's responses, and tuts at herself, realizing just how late it's gotten. "Oh, just look at me, nattering on. You need your rest just as sure as Frankie does. I'm sending Gwennie over tomorrow with supplies. How does one of my pasta bakes sound, I know it's warm weather, but who doesn't like a good comforting dish of noodles? Fresh bread too."

"Frankie likes pasta, yeah." A pause, and a hopeful lilt. "Pie?"

"How do you feel about peach? Peaches are just ripe at the market. With vanilla bean ice cream?"

"Oooo - I mean, oh, yeah, sure. That wouldn't suck."

"Frankie likes peaches."

"Consider it done." Not even a harrumph on that 'wouldn't suck' comment, Thistle is getting a pass.

"Thanks, Marigold. I have been cooking, but it's not the same."

"You have been doing wonderfully."

"I'll have to take pictures of the Nursery Project." The boggan can hear the capital letters.

"Oh, yes. I heard that it was... unfinished." The boggan's nose wrinkles a little bit as the word "beige" filters back through her memory

"Were you able to get the crib assembled without any trouble?"

"Wellll.... the thing is..."

Apparently, Thistle was dissatisfied with the manufacturer's instructions and quality.

There's a detailed list of "improvements" she's made.

"Oh, yes. See, the tricky thing is that safety standards change over time, and often folk just don't know it. Why, when Helen's youngest grandson was born, they insisted you have to have crib bumpers, pads all along the bottom edges. Baby will stick an arm out the slats and break their little bones, they said! Now, that was, oh, 5 years ago? And now they say that anything in the crib will be a suffocation risk! Not even a pillow or a stuffy. Well, I won't argue when it comes to safety, but oh, so many folk just haul out the old crib that has been passed down..."

"But... pardon, Thistle, what is a... what did you say?" Marigold didn't quite grasp the bit about the sound-activated clockwise rotational dangling mobile entertainment feature.

She's happy to answer - chattering about her 'tinkering' with less self-consciousness than her art, though she does reference 'aesthetic improvements' as if they were part of the same technical process. Apparently, the mobile has prisms to cast little rainbows!

"Isn't that lovely. Now, it's getting late, so you scurry on to bed now, dear. I have some early cooking to do, after all!"

Yaaaawwwwwwwwwwwn!

"Oh... oh, yeah. Sorry! Night, Marigold."

"Good night, Trina. Sleep well."

The boggan ends the call, and heads off to the pantry... no time like the present.

Muppet wags his tail at Trina. Maybe there is room in her bed?

Misty, massive pup that she is, has been relegated to the floor by Frankie's parents. However, they are not HERE, and the boy doesn't seem to mind in the least that she takes up 2/3rds of the available space.

Besides, Misty protects Frankie.

Muppet, well, it's a strange place, so he's lonely.

Though the terrier often finds a Never or two sleeping on him.

Citrine has claimed a permanent spot on Thistle's shoulder. The other Nevers may visit, but she CLAIMS that position. Ochre and Cadmium seem happy enough on Muppet's back, though the latter also tries to pull his ears from time to time to see if it will get a response.

Cadmium, alas, is naughty.

All of the Nevers are naughty, some of the time. Silly things.

Citron curls up next to Thistle on her pillow, a comforting tick-tick-tick-tick of her mechanical heartbeat lulling her to sleep.

(scene)