"Cheers," Dei agreed, and drained the remnants of her mug. When her eyes leveled out again, Siren was looking away toward the bar, and Dei followed her line of sight to the small, but growing, gathering there. The gleaming golden woman demanded her attention through sheer gaudiness, and the metal-armed man through sheer size, thereby emphasizing the small girl between them like puppy between a show dog and an attack hound.<br/><br/>"Poor little thing," she said wistfully, resting her chin in her palm, and made a mental note to avoid the golden woman, given Siren's commentary on her interactions with the "little bee." She turned back to Siren, whose eyes seemed to still be watching the bar despite being directed toward Dei now. Impressive trick, if a bit unnerving.<br/><br/>"So now that we're friends, got any advice on- hold that thought," she said, quickly rising from her seat. She looked around the room, craning her neck to see over heads, hunches, horns, and all other matter of organism-toppers of different heights in search of a sign pointing out the restroom. Spotting one, she said, "Back in a sec," and started weaving her way through the crowded space between her and her goal as the tingling in her back and arms intensified. Slipping inside the door, she was relieved to find that she was the only occupant, and headed straight for a stall, locking the door just as the first feather fluttered to the floor. Damn, but the last of those ten minutes had just flown by once she'd gotten indoors and warmed up. She shuddered as the tingling sensation of molting raced up her spine, across her shoulders, down her arms, and back for about thirty seconds. Feathers dropped to the tile floor, and when the tingling subsided, she stroked her arms, shoulders, and back to dislodge any loose pinions stuck in her normal plumage. The entire process from the moment she entered the stall took about two minutes, and when it was over, all that remained of her pseudo-wings was the original light layering on her back and shoulders, and a sleeve down the back of each arm to the wrist. Grateful that the floor was relatively clean for a bathroom, she scooped up her shed feathers in her clawed hands and deposited them in the garbage canister. She shook the can around a little, shuffling most of her lost plumage deeper into the can so as to be less obvious, then went to wash up.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>