Wai
"Oh! Haha, you're right, why didn't I think of that?" Owen chirped after a moment of confusion. *Of course!* The gorge was so obvious. That squid would learn its lesson.

"You're right about a lot of things. Wish I listened better, sometimes." 

Uninhibited by the heavy tongue sitting in his sleeping body, words didn't struggle so much between thought and expression. Besides, Uriel *Was* Right about a lot of things. More levelheaded about them, too.

"But there's still the thing on the ceiling," He moped. "My arms are getting tired but it isn't going away."

He made another swipe at the shadowy mass clinging to the fluorescent lights. It was an honest attempt, but the air fuzzed the corners of his vision; for reasons he hadn't quite gotten a sense of, his arms couldn't launch the mop at the snickering, dripping lump with much force at all. The corners of his mouth dipped down for a moment, eyes drooping a little at the corners for emphasis. 

With everything else out of the way, it now stuck out even more; the thief was contained, the line was moving along nicely, and there were *Two* Uriels... And the staticky mess, taunting him from just too high up. The edges of the scene warped toward it, the previous chaos morphing into faint background chatter.

"Come on... Get down here, that's not fair."
Mary
Oh, right. That... Blob, thing. 

Uri approached the quickly-tiring Owen, and gently rested their hand on the mop's handle. There wasn't any force in it, but the upward jabbing of the mop ceased anyway, even if only for a moment.

 "There's no need to resort to such a thing. Just sing it a song, and it'll fall asleep." Uriel raises their voice slightly, and begins to half-sing an old, French lullaby. It was something their mom used to sing to them, a little cute tune about a girl eating too many sweets after dinner and falling asleep in her chair. They didn't quite have the confidence to sing it wholeheartedly— their voice trailed off near the end of the tune, and they were a bit too quiet.

Nonetheless, the blob stops wriggling, before eventually dropping from the ceiling in a snoring heap at Owen's feet. 

At Owen's words, Uriel froze. It was... A kind sentiment, and the unfiltered, loose nature to which Owen so casually addressed them made it all the more endearing. Perhaps that gentle, honest delivery is what lead them to return in kind.

"You're much, much smarter than you give yourself credit for. I do wish you had more faith in yourself, Owen." 

Uriel taps the sleeping, gooey mass with the tip of their shoe. It doesn't respond, instead rolling over with a snore. 

"I, um, I suppose I should probably head out now..." They looked around the scene, double checking to see if there was anything left to help Owen with.

 Now that the chaos was addressed, Uriel took a moment to appreciate the scenery Owen's mind was able to conjure. It was... Well, beautiful, once they looked past the mental fog. Saturn's rings were bright and large, cutting across the cosmos like the edge of a knife severing the sky. The ground, too— purple, alien looking grass grew up to their ankles, the sea of violet occasionally interrupted by orange orchid-looking flowers.

They could appreciate the handiwork, as a professional. 

.

What would Owen say to them leaving? Most likely something about making sure to clock out before they left, if they were to expect the theme to continue. Still, they hesitated, pausing at the foot of the window they crawled through for a reason they did not know.
Wai
Owen's stance as he watched the ||???|| fall to the floor was a little comical. He looked like a kid almost, staring like a hopelessly confused goldfish first at the snoring blob and then at Uriel, whose voice he was intently focused on once they realized it came from them. The mop clattered to the tile.

"Thhhhank you," He breathed out, the lullaby still running through his brain like a stream of cool water over an ingot of melted iron, cracking and melting miserably, hissing in relief. Here, the last trailed-off notes travelled through the air in a strange, twisted manner, as though they were silken strands being twirled around an awestruck finger.

"Nice always is when that you do..."

The grammar was all out of order, but the sentiment could be deciphered. It was always nice when they did that. *This was familiar? When did he feel this?* Questions that didn't quite make sense in this state swirled in his mind, answered by a simple yet bewildering *Oh, all the time.*

"Whh?"

The ice cream parlour had half-melted away, the radio muttering like a child on the brink of sleep and all the patrons having gone home. He knew without knowing, though, that the window was the way out; *Why did they have to go back out? Here's fine. They ought to know that- they had made it fine.*

"But, stay," He oozed, "All the stars are out."

Fragments of an old song crackled through on the radio. It didn't have a title here, nor words that made any sense, or even the same tune; no past, present, or future, just strange, vague concepts curling through the air like fragrant smoke. The grass waved along to it, something that felt like a smile, warm and inviting.
Mary
"Hm?" 

Uriel looked back to face Owen again, eyes widening upon seeing the changes in the landscape. Gone were the squid, the gorge, and the circle of impatient animals— all dissolved into a thick mist, encircling the little half-shop and its grassy field. 

It was almost like a snow globe, they thought, the corner of their mouth perking up in amusement at the comparison. A field of grass, a half- dissolved ice cream shop, and an old, tinny radio spewing the faintest fragments of days long past; it really would make a pretty one, a scene forever suspended in a crystal ball. 

"The stars... You're right. It would be a shame to miss them." Their soft, fond voice doesn't betray how their heart swells in their chest at the simple request, not at all helped by Owen's unfiltered, albeit garbled, comments. 

*Is this what it felt like to be wanted?* Uriel could only muse, their face blooming into a smile. The grass was cool and slightly wet with dew, prickling the spots of exposed skin as Uri laid down on the field. 

The sky was beautiful, really. Their grey eyes shone with light, dark grey reflecting the tapestry of stars twinkling in the night sky above. Those same eyes saw stars blink in and out of existence as different constellations came to life, steadfastly marching across the horizon. 

"These constellations... I don't exactly recognize what they're intended to represent. Sit next, and explain them to me." Uriel gestures to the spot next to them, undoing their braid with their free hand. 

It had been bothering them, an uncomfortable knot where they tried to rest on the grassy plain's ground. Their now-free white hair draped itself on their shoulders, the ends curling in the wind like the very mist surrounding the two. 

Without their tell-tale braid, Uriel's nervous mannerisms shifted— instead of their prior picking at loose strands, they'd found themselves subconsciously smoothing and brushing whatever coils found themselves hanging within reach.
Wai
The grin that broke out across Owen's face at Uriel's decision to stay a while bled into the scenery- the soil beneath the grass buzzed, the planets shimmered, and the dreamy form of Owen himself flopped happily onto the grass. Landing on his backside, he floated back up- the gravity hadn't entirely gone away, but he floated around a foot away from the grass and stretched out to dig his fingers into it. 

Was he above this planet, or floating in space next to it? Which was really was 'up'? Who knew? He didn't! That made him giggle. 

"The constellations? Sure!"

He hadn't really thought about them until then- he was preoccupied, stuck in place, but now that he was really looking at the sky, he could see the pictures forming in the twinkling lights. Were they always there? Had he made them up on the spot? These were the questions that ..Didn't really occur to them as the stories glittered in his eyes.

"That one's a pile of cheeseburgers," He began, "And that one's Ronnie James Dio. I've told you about him! You liked that song about catching rainbows..."

The radio in the distance crackled a verse of said song, the notes listened to and loved so much that they were (literally, here) engraved in his skull. It sounded a little strange, being a memory and all, but sweet nonetheless.

"That's an afanc, and that one's Eddie, oh, and that there's Cliff!"

Owen ran through the various figures posed heroically in his cosmos, their forms shining like sparks in his eyes. A tree from the campground back home, Lemmy Kilmister, a bottle of root beer. He floated next to Uriel, fingers and toes digging through the dewy grass and coming away imprinted with little orange petals; deep reddish locks floated by his face, flowing over the grass like spilled spicy cocoa.

A pause for breath, as he turned his head back toward Uriel. *Their hair lo*Oks like clouds.."