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[It's all over. And yet not, because they're going to continue traveling together. One thing ends and another begins and the world hasn't ended.

But however final that conversation with the Head Housemaiden had felt, it turns out that beginning and end are a lot less distinct than anticipated. It's not like they were gonna immediately take off on a new journey, after all. Especially not when the whole of Dormont is eager to celebrate with their heroes.

The End Of The World party has become a The World Didn't End party, as promised, and the shift in theme only seems to have amped up the energy of the festivities. Which is fair enough. Mirabelle, the Chosen One, has been mobbed nonstop by both grateful townsfolk and friends from the House, and she looks happy enough to see everyone safe and movie that a rescue isn't even warranted. Odile looks genuinely happy, deep in conversation with the librarian from the House. And it looks like Bonnie is making friends with some of the local kids, or at least enjoying the awe as they regale them with stories of their adventure.

It's good. Everyone is happy and full of life. It's just kind of...overwhelming? Siffrin wasn't exactly big on crowds even before the timelooping business, and it's been so long with just the same few faces repeating the same lines that this is all A Lot. Their general air of quiet mystery and exhaustion has kept most people from doing more than offering their thanks in passing, but Siffrin still feels drained regardless. It's so loud.

But he couldn't spoil the fun for everyone else. They deserve it after saving the whole country, and especially after dealing with all his nonsense. So he quietly slips away while they're all otherwise occupied. He doesn't intend to go far – the idea of not having his family nearby spikes anxious tightness in his chest, and he doubts that's gonna go away anytime soon – but just...around back of one of the buildings should be fine, right? He can peek around the side periodically to reassure himself with a glimpse of everyone. He just needs a wall to muffle the festivities somewhat.]

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[...How to best address this...

Siffrin is still very affected by their time in the loops. Like. That goes without saying. It doesn't even need to be seen or noticed; it would be obvious to anyone who has even an iota of experience with anything traumatic. Sif was also already kind of avoidant when it came to his problems, even before many tens of dozens of yesterdays happened. Isabeau can easily imagine that's gotten worse, though he doesn't want to just assume as much without proof. The idea of it does make him more hesitant to address this firmly, though. Hmm...]

Huh? Cut your hair?

[Ack! Caught off guard! He's shaken from his thoughts, turning instead to look Siffrin over as he starts pulling supplies out of his bag. A detangling comb, a fluffing brush, a light hair oil...]

Why would you cut it? It's so fluffy and pretty!

[Oh, he wasn't expecting that reaction. Siffrin raises his hands to wave off the concern.]

Not all of it! Just to get rid of the part that still has dye in it. That part's not even that soft anyway.

[There are probably ways to dye one's hair and keep it nice and healthy, especially when you're just going darker and don't even need to bleach it. But this is Siffrin, so shit was definitely not done in the best way.

Setting his stuff down, he debates briefly on whether to change first. But Isabeau has bottles of some kind of liquid out, so maybe this will be a messier process than anticipated?? Maybe he'll hold off on getting dressed....]

Ohhhhh.

[Phew! He places a hand over his chest, like he just barely managed to avert a very serious crisis.]

I mean, I think we're all probably due for a trim after months of hair neglect in the name of saving the country.

[Everything out and set, he pulls a chair out from under the table and faces it away from himself. He then lifts a hand to wave Sif over, tapping the chair to indicate that they should sit their butt in it.]

What made you think of it, anyway?

[Isabeau absolutely does not want them to ever cut all their hair super short. Noted.....

Siffrin shrugs as he takes the offered seat. He toys with the ends of his bangs where it's already free of dye, just absently comparing it. It is kind of soft, he guesses? He's just never really given his own appearance much thought. Even the dye had only come about because too many strangers had commented on the unusually bright shade of his hair and it was making him self-conscious.

But that feels almost like a betrayal, now. This hair shade is one of the few things that ties him to home. He doesn't want to taint it anymore, no matter how out of place it makes him look. As long as he's with his family, he won't care what anyone else thinks.]

Nothing special, really. Just...thinking about my hair, since we're messing with it now?

[It's true enough.]

[His excitement over this is tempered some by the fact that he's got some important things to address with them, but tempered sure isn't the same thing as gone! Giddiness traipses its delight through skittish fingertips as he picks up the comb and starts to slowly and gently work it through Siffrin's hair.]

And you thought you wanted to get rid of the lightless parts specifically?

[The way Sif said that was pretty particular, right? His nerves ease out as methodical movement works its usual magic on him. Bottom to top, left to right, he nudges his way through the knots that form without ever tugging too hard or too fast. And as he progresses, their natural fluff and waviness begins to shine through.]

[Siffrin steels himself for this to hurt, but...the pain never comes. Huh. Whenever he tries to run a brush through it, it's an unpleasant process. Which is part of why he doesn't bother much, which...probably exacerbates the problem. Exhaling slowly, he relaxes into the seat.]

I mean, it looks pretty awful when it's this grown-out, doesn't it? And I clearly can't be trusted to keep up with it.

[This is also true. Even if he loved the shade, would he manage consistent enough maintenance to keep it looking good? Absolutely not.]

[Seeing those shoulders sag in relaxation is the greatest reward he could ever receive from something like this. Second place would be liking the work he does, but even if Sif is ambivalent on that front, he's happy just for the chance to pamper them. They deserve it! He starts tracing his fingers through the different layers of their hair as he combs it, working his way around to the back.]

I don't think it looks awful. There are some hairstyles that purposely dye the tips, and yours has grown out for so long that it pretty much looks like that now.

[He huffs an amused breath.] And if you don't wanna keep up with your hair anymore, trim or not, you can just let me take care of it from now on.

[He got to ask! And it was fairly natural! Score.]

[Beyond just not hurting, the combing actually feels kinda nice when Isabeau does it. The gentle scrape of the teeth of the comb against their scalp is like a good head scratch. And Isa's totally casual offer to keep doing it moving forward brings a small smile to their lips, turned away where they don't have to be self-conscious about it.]

I think you'd probably be too nice to say anything if it did look bad. But I guess if you take over that job from now on, then it's your fault if it doesn't look good.

[It's lighthearted, humorous. But also maybe indirectly accepting that proposal.

Siffrin has to wonder what Isabeau would do with their hair if given absolute free. If Isa actually liked the lightless look better. Most of their hair was dyed back when they first met, after all. Maybe the growing out process was change for the worse. The thought nearly has them abandoning this idea entirely, because... Well, because they want Isabeau to like them. Keep liking them. Whatever. They mull it over in silence for a few moments as Isa works his magic.

Ultimately, that instinct to preserve this little bit of home wins out. Maybe that's why the King grew his hair so absurdly long. It's all they have left, really. They don't really know how to feel about understanding the King that well, so they push the thought aside.]

...Would you cut it for me sometime?

[Even with all Isabeau's enthusiasm for this, it still feels like they're asking a lot of him, so they follow that up hurriedly.]

You don't have to, I've always managed fine just doing it myself with my knife. But I figure you're probably better at it than me.

Why, Siffrin! Are you implying that I'm biased when it comes to you?

[He leaves a long enough beat between phrases for his companion to realize he is making a self-deprecating joke, and then he continues.]

...Yeah, Mira is probably the one you'll want to go to for a truly impartial judgement. Not that you'd need one if I'm helping you out every morning.

[Madame Odile and Bonnie wouldn't hold back in their scathing assessment of Siffrin's hairstyle, but they're also way less likely to be fashionably correct. Which is the best kind of correct. Mira will have Sif's back in that regard.]

Oh! Would you trust me with that? I've only ever trimmed my own hair before. [He sets his comb aside for a moment and starts to guide Siffrin's hair through taut fingers, getting an eye for where healthy hair ends and split ends begin. Probably feels like weirdly stiff, but gentle tugs.] I could definitely do it, if you really don't mind...

[Honestly, he'd meant it in more of a general sense. He can't imagine Isabeau telling anyone they look bad. But even as a joke, the suggestion that he gets special treatment is...something. Strange, but nice. His cheeks feel a little warm, and he's once again glad he's facing away.]

Then I'll ask her and see just how biased you are.

[The thought of Isa cutting their hair is a little thrilling, even. They want to see what he'd do with it. They want to put a blade in his hand and sit with their back to him and revel in that trust.

It wasn't just a lack of funds or a decent hairdresser that'd had him chopping at his own hair with a dagger, after all. Once upon a time, he couldn't have imagined letting anyone near his head with a sharp object like that. The time he'd spent on his own wasn't always pleasant, especially in the earliest years when he was barely more than a kid and still struggled with new languages while his native one was lost to him. Not everywhere was as kind and accepting as Vaugarde. Some people were wary of a nameless, penniless, storyless drifter. Some people saw an aimless lone teenager far from home as a target.

Exhaling softly, he leans his head back as if pulled by the gentle tugging, bumping his head back against Isabeau's hands. It's a little reminiscent of a cat butting its head against someone's palm, seeking pets, but Siffrin guesses he can live with the risk of more cat Sif jokes right now.]

Yeah, I trust you.

[With anything and everything, really. They weren't sure they could ever really convey the depths of it. But that's probably a little heavy to dump on Isabeau out of nowhere, so they'll leave it at hair for now.]

[He is! He's super biased! And he's been in love with them for so long that he borders on being proud of it. He's only going to get more embarrassing about this with time...

There's a quiet "oh!" from him when their head bumps back into his hand, startled from his thoughts by something impossibly precious. It's probably a good thing they can't see his little blush and the way he smiles so fondly it hurts, because the urge to call them cute for that is so obvious, it borders on deadly (for Isabeau). He swallows down that urge and instead takes a break from measurements and combing to plonk his hand in their hair and give their scalp a good scratch. It undoes some of the work he's done, but that's fine. Who doesn't like a good head scratch?]

Then I'd be happy to! Gimme a few days to get used to caring for your hair, and I'll be able to trim it any way you'd like.

[He can make that promise because he's already pretty sure Siffrin isn't going to ask him for anything complicated. He can imagine they don't want something that would be a pain to wash or care for on their own.]

Hmm... [He pulls his hand away for a moment, picking up his comb so he can resume the de-tangling. Careful fingertips brush to Siffrin's forehead as he folds his bangs back, gently combs through them, and lets them fall back into place again.]

Between the morning brushes and the new stretch routine, you might have to wake up a little earlier than you're used to. Think you can handle it?

[He does like a good head scratch! Isabeau is rewarded for it with a near imperceptible sigh, Siffrin's head tilting into the touch.

Their eyes drift shut until their bangs are dropped back over their face, freshly fluffy with the detangling and immediately tickling their nose. They reach up to nudge the strands back into their usual place and pause to finger the ends, examining it idly. His hair's gotten pretty long, huh? He'd kept it shorter for so long until everything with this journey had kept him too busy to worry about it for a while. It hasn't been this long since he first started cutting it as a teenager.

He used to wear it longer all the time, he thinks. He's not sure, but it was that long in his earliest memory, so it feels likely. It wasn't this tangled at the beginning either, was it? He'd only started cutting it because it was such a struggle to deal with it when it got messy. That it was so tidy at first has him wondering whether he'd had someone that regularly helped him with it like this, or if he'd just forgotten how to do it himself along with everything else.

That somber thought shrinks his smile a little, but at least it doesn't vanish entirely. Not with Isa here.]

It's fine. You can always throw me out of bed if I'm not getting up.

[Since...he assumes the bed sharing will continue? He hopes it will, anyway, even when they're in situations that don't necessarily require it. It's nice. And to be honest, it'll probably be a while before he's comfortable being left alone anywhere for hours at a time. His friends are just gonna have to deal with this newfound clinginess, and hopefully it's more endearing than annoying.]

[The way they push their head into his palm is not just a reward (though it definitely made his heart do a weird twirl)! It is also a signal, one that lets him know to do that much more often. Rest assured Siffrin will be getting all of the headscritches from now on.]

I promise to aim for something soft if I do. [The gave him permission, they can't be mad if it happens for real.] Sounds like we've pretty much decided bed sharing isn't weird.

[This can still change between now and later tonight, but let a guy dream, yeah? For all that he and Sif both fretted over the idea of things changing last night, an evening of shared whispers and snuggles seems to have bridged the gap those worries formed. Whatever comes up in the future regarding beds and tents should be way easier to talk about.

He finishes combing their hair, pausing in his work to run his hands through their newly softened tresses and fluff it out, really get a good feel for their hair type. It's thicker than he's used to handling, and all this length has made his curls more wave-like. Isabeau hums in thought as he swaps to the brush, adding further fluff with gentle strokes.]

...And, in lieu of "weaponizing the timeloop trauma," maybe we could use our new meditative morning stretch routine to talk about what you went through during your loops?

[He offers this tentatively, like he's testing the fragile peace that had settled around the subject of being lost to time. It's still weird to think about. There's an entire chunk of time that Siffrin spent with everyone that only they remember. Isabeau regrets not being part of it, and he's fairly certain the rest of their party has similar feelings on the matter.]

I mean! You don't have to, but. There are probably parts of it that you'd like to tell all of us as a group, right?

[They won't be mad if it really happens. A little surprised, maybe. Would Isabeau really do it? It'd admittedly be really funny. At what point does the bias win out over the dedication to comedy?]

Yeah, if you're okay with it. It was nice? I slept really well for once.

[Granted, after yesterday, they'd probably have passed out that hard regardless of the sleeping situation. It bears further experimentation, at least. Siffrin feels pretty optimistic about it.

Unsurprisingly, broaching the timeloop subject does somber him up a bit. Siffrin frowns, silent and thoughtful for a long few moments as Isabeau continues fussing with his curls.]

...I guess. I mean. If the others also want to? I don't want to dump anything on anyone that doesn't want to hear it.

[And even then, there are things he wants to talk about, and things he wants to bury and never acknowledge again. He wants to share the nice moments, the bonding, all the banter from their exploration of the House that never got to happen now. But surely the others would notice something's up if he only talked about the happy times, and he doesn't know what he would say about the rest. How would they look at him if they knew the worst of it? All the breakdowns in the bathroom, forgetting their names, letting Bonnie die, letting all of them die–]

I promise you, no one is more okay with that than me.

[Isabeau won't say he's never slept that well before, but it did check off a bucket list item for him! Except now, instead of having to cajole Siffrin into agreeing to it just once, he's gonna get to have late night cuddles all the time? Forever, potentially?

(He's not already thinking about forever, he's not. Stop that, self.)

He continues to brush their hair, moving at a steady pace as the tough bristles pull away broken strands and surface level tangles. Each brush comes with the gentle brace of his hand, fingers trailing through his hair in a slow chase. Could he have been done with this already? Yes. Is he indulging in some extra brushing for the sake of continuing the conversation? Also yes.]

Of course we wanna hear it. I'm so confident in that, I'd bet dating you on it.

[Siffrin still may not seem to think so, but each and every one of this little group loves him terribly. Enough to weather everything that happened over the last two days. Enough to try to join him on a journey they can't recall, to help shoulder a trauma they couldn't be there for.]

...If I had to guess, there are probably parts of it that you can't share with all of us. Is that right?

[People don't really say they're going to "dump" an experience on someone unless it was a particularly heavy one.]

[Isabeau wouldn't be the only one thinking about it. Forever is a comforting possibility. Everyone wanting to keep traveling together has punted the issue hopefully a good distance down the road, but Siffrin knows it'll come to an end someday. Everyone's reassured him that still won't be the end, that they'll all stay in each other's lives and all that, but it's not like he has anywhere to go himself once that happens, and the thought of going back to wandering aimlessly on his own leave him feeling painfully empty.

They can't ask any of them to keep roaming around with them forever. But they can't help but wonder what forever with Isabeau might entail, there might be a place for them even when the journey comes to an end.]

Well, I know a bunch of everyone's secrets now, so I bet you all don't want me sharing those.

[He knows that's not the kind of stuff Isabeau meant. But this is a nice morning so far, and he doesn't really want to bring the mood down, so he jumps on the easy pivot. And luckily, it gives him a great option for a distraction.]

Oh yeah, I found out what Odile is researching.

[It's okay if the subject pivots. He made the point he wanted to make, and forcing Siffrin to talk about anything sooner than they're ready to wouldn't be any better for them than bottling it all up would be. Siffrin is the one steering the ship. Isabeau is here to rock the boat if they start treading water.]

Oh! So it wasn't just me you had a super secret bonding hangout with? It was all of us?

[Makes sense! Not like he's the most important person in their life. That all said, he is done brushing their hair. He sets said brush aside and pulls up his little jar of hair oil, dumping a very small and reasonable amount of it onto his hands. Rubbing them both together, he will stick those oiled up fingers right into Siffrin's hair, carefully avoiding getting it down to the roots as he fluffs and styles everything for them. Almost done...]

Oh man, Madame's research topic... I'm dying to know, but at the same time, I definitely don't want you to tell me. I want to figure it out on my own.

[This is probably the feeling Mirabelle had when she told Siffrin she didn't want any "spoilers." Isabeau has it narrowed down! He's definitely going to figure out her research topic soon. It wouldn't be any fun if Siffrin just told him it, jealous as he is that they figured it out first.

He's distracted from fluffing Siffrin's hair by the sound of a few loud thumps and a couple floorboards creaking above them, and with a grin-] You could totally tell me Bonbon's secrets, though.

[A resounding "YOU BETTER NOT, 'FRIN" echoes from above, and Isabeau snorts.]

[Hair oil sounds counterproductive to Siffrin. Isn't oily hair gross and dirty-looking? But he supposed Isabeau knows better than him. Trust the process and all that.]

You wouldn't even do the super secret bonding hangout with me until I'd done it with everyone else first!

[They tilt their head way back to look up at Isabeau and stick their tongue out at him. Sir, you cannot be jealous when your friendquest was only unlocked by doing all of them.

At the distant shout from upstairs and the sound of footsteps on the staircase, Siffrin grins, still looking up at Isa, and cups their hand around their mouth to stage-whisper loudly.]

Oh, I know everything about Bonbon now. I even know their three favorite foods.

[Siffriiiin, there's a huge difference between the natural oil build up that comes from the roots, and Official Hair Care Product Oil!

Which is to say, it's mostly just there to add softness and texture to the far more dried out split ends that come with having longer hair. Especially when those ends are chopped with a knife! Sif didn't need much, but what little Isa did use added such a nice sheen, enhancing the natural velvety texture of their hair. They're gonna be sooooo impressed. He did a good job!]

I made you wait? No, hold on, lemme rephrase. [He takes a very silly breath of preparation and puts a hand on his chest.] I, made you, wait??

[He pulls his hands from their hair so he can grab the back of their chair, leaning over it to look at them.]

Why?? Why would I do that? You gotta give me the details.

[He's shocked! There's surely context available to explain it away, but Isabeau can't envision what it might be. And while he badgers Siffrin for said context, they continue with the teasing he'd begun. The scurrying upstairs abruptly stops when Siffrin mentions the Three Favorite Foods, the very key to Bonnie's heart. It's clear they're listening extra hard now. Isabeau whispers back, loudly.]

No way! Do you think you could name them? Right here, right now?

[Siffrin almost repeats it sarcastically. You, Isabeau, made me wait? Shocker. But they hold their tongue. That's mean, and Isabeau is literally pampering them right now He doesn't deserve that. And while they could provide the requested details, it's clear Bonnie is listening, and that whole encounter feels...private. As much as they're teasing about sharing secrets, they wouldn't actually spill anything any of said in those moments. Siffrin places a finger over his lips as if to say It's a secret.

Of course, Bonnie wasn't the one who'd shared their favorite foods, and they'd seemed happy that Siffrin knew them, so that's probably alright to tell.]

Rice, pineapple, and samosas. Specifically, samosas with potato and no cheese.

[See? He's the Bonnie expert. It makes him feel a little guilty, knowing he only knew that by abusing his looping. And he can definitely never tell Bonnie he had to die via allergic reaction to learn one of those. There were enough bad feelings just from Siffrin having been hurt protecting them that one time.]

[He almost huffs when he sees that little "it's a secret" move from them, even while completely understanding that they have an audience. Sighing a little, his expression shifts to something more empathetic, and he'll nod. Siffrin will just owe him a chat later.]

Oh, nice work! I didn't know about pineapple.

[Very good, Siffrin! A plus for Siffrin! Isabeau can easily imagine the smile on Bonnie's face, hearing that. Things have been strange between the two of them ever since Sif lost his eye, and Isabeau had no idea how to intervene. So it's kind of nice, between yesterday and now, to see that things might be patching themselves up on their own. Something definitely changed.

To Bonnie's credit, the thumping upstairs resumes, and gradually moves away from the staircase. Seems like they're done eavesdropping for now, but it probably won't be long until they make their way down here. Isabeau gives Siffrin's hair one last little fluff, just for effect, and steps back.]

All done! What do you think? [He didn't want to do anything too wild, so in the end their hairdo matches how they usually style it. It's just also neater, fluffier, shinier, and is completely free of the usual rats' nests.] There's a mirror on the wall behind me if you wanna check it out.

[Isabeau knew everything else already? Of course he did. He's an actually good person who pays attention to others without having to be given a quest to do so first. Siffrin nods absently, glancing upward and listening as the sounds of Bonnie getting ready for the day resume. Ok, good, it's probably safe now. He lowers his voice anyway for Isabeau's ears only.]

Yeah, uh. Maybe let me know if you see Bonnie put any in anything else? Apparently I'm allergic.

[And he doesn't want Bonnie to feel bad or stop eating them or wonder how that was discovered, but he also doesn't want to risk dying again. No more loops to fall back on, after all.

Freed from the prison of haircare, Siffrin gets up and turns to see the results.]

Oh. [He tentatively, lightly touches his hair, as if afraid he'll ruin Isabeau's hard work.] It's pretty soft. Is that what the oily stuff does?

[It looks nice. It occurs to Siffrin belatedly that he'll have to muss it up anyway to get dressed...which is something he should probably do soon, huh? Bonnie's already up, after all, and who knows when Odile and Mirabelle will rejoin them.]

[They're allergic to pineapple? Woof, talk about unlucky, considering the circumstances. He wonders how Siffrin found that one out, but their request is what makes him pause first.]

I can do that, sure, but why not just tell them yourself?

[He doesn't quite get it! Is it embarrassing for Siffrin? That can't be more important than letting the group chef know about an allergen so they can avoid putting it in Siffrin's servings of things.]

Your softness is about seventy percent natural fluff, thirty percent oil. My brush did most of the heavy lifting here.

[He sees him hesitating, drawing careful fingertips along their hair like it's something fragile. Is he worried he'll mess it up? That's super thoughtful of them! Means Isabeau should lay out the facts for them.]

Feel free to stuff your hands in there! You aren't gonna hurt it, and it's gonna naturally deflate through the day anyway. You'd need a gel or spray to make it stick up the way mine does all day, but that wouldn't be nearly as soft.

[Siffrin just shrugs dismissively at the question, acting more distracted by their hair at the moment. He just...doesn't really want to get into the details right now, all Bonnie's guilt about the eye thing and their burning desire to protect him in return, which was really sweet at first but now sorta stresses him out every since the incident with the King, which he is absolutely not thinking about right now, just the fact that he doesn't want Bonnie even remotely near anything that might hurt them, even just emotionally–

His jaw tightens just slightly, and he aggressively shoves his hands into his hair to distract himself. It really is soft. Siffrin forces himself to stop short of tearing at it the way he wants to for a moment.]

...I think I'd look pretty ridiculous if I tried sticking mine up like yours, with this texture.

[They'd probably look like a sheep.]

[...He still doesn't get it, but. Of all the things he might end up having to push Siffrin on, one way or the other, telling Bonnie about their allergy themself ranks pretty low on the list. Isabeau's energy for confrontation among friends is already lower than most folks' to begin with. He huffs, and it is a sympathetic kind of huff, and leaves that particular topic at that for now.

Especially since it's a little funny watching Siffrin just dig their hands deep into their own hair after his very light encouragement.]

You'd look soooooo silly. Not that I'd tell you, apparently, if you did so of your own volition.

[Something something, his biases. He puts his hair supplies back in his bag, careful as he always is with them.]

We'd better get dressed. Bonnie's probably gonna want breakfast soon- or, I guess, brunch? Considering how late we slept.

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