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Clearing Out The Cobwebs


Heritage

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Dr. Estelle de Havilland's Loft. July 21st, 2018. 10:30 am

 

So strange to be back after all these years; the maid service expertly maintained the property, so the dust motes hanging in the air were entirely of her own invention, yet Estelle saw them nonetheless. Seven years away teaching and researching abroad in Berlin, Lisbon and Tokyo had done much to scour away the distressing memories of the Gorgon's first visit to Earth, but still her heart never left this sacred space, this feeling of belonging, of home.

 

Her hair unfurled like a silk parachute, several fine tendrils depositing her bags upstairs in the sleeping loft, while countless others stretched out to gently stroke the walls, ceiling and furnishings with the caress of a long-lost love. A strong solid pair reached up and wrapped themselves around the arms of the combination metal sculpture/'jungle gym' that hung over the loft, and effortlessly drew her upward. Estelle closed her eyes and sighed as she stripped off her dusty traveling clothes while she floated in midair, and then carried herself into the master bathroom for a long, hot and entirely wasteful shower, an indulgence, true, but one that she earned after being trapped in an international flight for nine hours, her living hair forced into a confining French braid for far too long.

 

Depositing herself onto the sectional sofa, wrapped in her favorite fluffy bathrobe with her damp hair majestically draped over the leather upholstery, Estelle finally allowed herself a long contented sigh.  

 

"Home..."

Edited by Heritage
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Moira too had just returned from a trip. Technically this was just a respite. She loved warm, sunny, secluded tropical areas. She brought along friends and worshipers of the faith. They traveled all over where they could fit in. Party places and quiet villas. Apollo put in an appearance on one island. It was away from anywhere, so summoning was fine. No trouble to cause paradise. Religous activities and fun aside, the vacation was kind of short. It was supposed to be all summer long, but Moira felt the pull of her heroic alter ego calling. She had to go back to Freedom.

 

As she returned, she got a notification. A name she hadn't seen or heard from in a while pinged on her social media. ""Estelle," she asked herself with a mix of confusion and glee. She friend requested a lot of people when she got the multiplatform device. Besides being a phone and camera it had all sorts of services to sign up for. She and Lynn signed her up for all of them.

 

Moira had to see if this was true, dialing her former friend and partner. Well, there was the voice mail. She was sure Estelle was busy. Maybe washing her hair or something. "Estelle? It's Moira. It's been a while. I know we haven't been in touch. How about we fix that? Give me a call back." Phone tag. It was the worst. And in this day and age did anyone check their voicemail?

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She must have dozed off for a few minutes, because Estelle finally became aware that her cellphone was vibrating in her purse. By the time she'd fetched it from the kitchen counter, it was already going to voicemail. She didn't recognize the number, so she waited for the notification and checked her messages.

 

The breathy notes of Moira's voice were only slightly less fascinating on a digital recording, and a ripple spread out from the blonde's roots all the way out to the ends of her hair as she suddenly sat bolt upright, fully awake. It seemed like a lifetime ago that she had an exquisite dalliance with a goddess made flesh, and to be honest it had taken several years for Estelle to convince herself that it was little more than a dream, a delightful interlude that flared and went dim, fading into hazy memories of flying too close to the sun.

 

But now, this phone call, that voice...! The sophisticated organic chemist, normally so poised and refined, eagerly hit redial like a giddy teenager who'd just been asked to her first prom, breathlessly waiting for Moira to answer the phone.

 

"Pick up, pick up, pick up..."

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Less than a minute later her phone lit up with Estelle's smiling face. What was she doing, Moira thought as she pressed a button. "Dear golden-haired princess," she answered sweetly, "you and I need to catch up. How's it goin, babe?" The two did talk spice for a while. Estelle gave her her address. Moira said she'd be there soon.

 

Well, soonish. Traffic was backed up due to some business involing a flying hero and villain knocking each other around. Moira recorded some of it and sent it to Estelle. 《Sorry. Still on my way.》she texted. Sometimes you couldn't help out. Even if you wanted.

 

But she eventually got there. Not having to even knock, the door opened. The two former friends reunited with a hug. Letting it sit in silence for a moment. "Love the new place," she said softly, "can I see it from the inside?"

Edited by Moira Morley
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  • 2 weeks later...

 "It's really you!As firm and warm as Estelle's hug was, it was nothing compared to the one her hair gave to the former goddess; the shimmering golden locks wrapped them both together from head to toe, and squeezed like an affectionate python. "Mmmm; it's so good to see you again!" At last the mass of sentient silkiness relented, and Moira was able to breathe again. Her hair floating around her languid cloud, the organic chemist took a step back into the loft and gestured expansively.  "Please, make yourself at home! Can I get you a drink?"

 

It was a lovely space, with exposed red brick walls, exposed pipes painted in cheerful muted yellows and modern furnishings in ivory and champagne. The center of the home was a gorgeous combined wood and gas burning brick oven, surrounded by a wraparound counter ringed with several stools. There was also a more formal dining area and living area marked out with a pair of sectional sofas,. and in the back corner a small home recording studio. A raised sleeping loft offered the promise of warmth and happiness, and above it all hung a fascinating metal sculpture of bars, rods and brackets, which served as both decoration and elevated workout space.

 

Still wearing her bathrobe, Estelle called over her shoulder as she went to the fridge.  "So, do you like it?"

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