Welcome to Gaia! ::

The woman smiled and there was definite intelligence behind those eyes. "Rebecca's the name. You can call me whatever you like. So tel me, Sol. Does your name refer to the sun or music?" She asked, curiously. She had never met a Solsol before. A fact which registered in the back of her mind as another small thing to smile about. It really didn't take much to get her to smile.

The thing which now zoomed across the floor held Rebecca's gaze as she turned to watch it. She wasn't exactly sure how to react to this thing's greeting, so she waved in a friendly fashion. Her default reaction. Without taking her gaze off of the cleaning device, she continued her questioning. Though Sol was most likely not aware of it, she had resolved to find the meaning of his name or the reason for it within the next half hour. "So what was the meaning? Or is it simply a sound which your parents liked?"

The woman tilted her head to the other side, attempting to place the piece of religious information in a category. "Which religion?" She asked, thinking it was likely some form of Christianity. Rebecca couldn't just assume it was of Christian origin, however. She was aware that there were many religions in the world.

"A Kristen...my, today's full of interesting things! Why, a while ago, a large cat-brute and a tiny cat brute passed by. But he did not read the signs, he simply passed through and chose his own way." she said helpfully. "I believe they ran into Pontif. I myself am the Chaos Beast's sense of detachment, Kristen."

"Ziipo!"

"And hello to your Zeepo, whatever he is. Now, what brings you here? It is not often we get visitors...ah, yes. Her. Planning to wake her?"

Albee hobbled downstairs, seemingly well enough to return to Inn life, but now lacking his former energy. Even as a child, he seemed to have aged, a wizened deepness behind his eyes. But along with that deepness was a deep set pain, a pain of remembering and containment. It even affected his appearance, making his usually neat hair unruly and twisted locks of white and even his clothes seemed to have changed somehow, the open ends of his sleeves and pants looking a little torn and battered. When he walked, the former gleeful energy was gone, no childish youth, as if a child had been given all the cruel secrets of life a tad too early.

This new Albee stepped to the kitchen, fetched himself a mug of apple juice, and returned to the lobby to sit on the couch, crossing a leg over the other like a proper little adult as he sipped.

He turned at his name, raising a hand in gretting, but something in his new nature either too haughty or too tired to actually wave it. When he spoke, it was still that of a child, but there was now a resonance in his tone that followed suit with his new appearance, something close to a respectable melancholy.

"Gren."

Albee nodded with a forlorn sigh, setting down his mug.

"Yes... The one thing that long life only worsens... old memories."