This bar is...concerning. She was not expecting to be in a bar. It is new and she has no idea how to handle it, which is terrifying, but she can't let her fear show. Showing weakness is always a bad plan. So she wanders around and inspects everything from the furniture to the mysteriously self-playing instruments with an air of casualness so practiced few could see past the facade.
"Um, eyes see by taking in light, right? And things that make light are worse at taking it in. Like how if you're driving at night it's bad if the interior light is on."
“...Mm, I forgot physics again.”
Speaking of which, there is now a generously sized raspberry danish on a china plate sitting on the counter.
"Something else might be nice, though."
“Just name it, hon.”
She nibbles her lip. "Metallic would be cool," she throws out after a moment. "--Metallic silver with a slight gold shimmer?" She hesitantly reaches for the danish.
The danish is slightly warm and the pastry is flaky.
The next time she blinks, there’s an odd sticking sensation that makes it difficult to open her eyes. Once they do open, her irises are a bright, reflective silver, like liquid mercury, with golden overtones that show up especially where they catch the light.
"Oh," she breathes when she sees it, temporarily distracted from the extremely delicious pastry. "That's beautiful."
“And now it’s you.”
She beams delightedly.
“Now, that’s what I like to see. You’ve got a gorgeous smile, honey.”
--She blushes slightly at the praise and ducks her head. "Thank you." Then she takes another bite of danish. Fuck that's a good danish.
“Feeling up to more? We don’t have to do it all in one sitting if you want a break.”
"Keeping going is fine. What's next?"
“Let’s tweak your shape before we get too fancy. How’s that height?”
“Shoulders and hips?”
She considers herself critically. "More hip, I think."
Her hips swell to a sensibly girly size. It’s a bizarre sensation — it creaks, and probably should hurt, but it doesn’t in the slightest.
Huh. Weird. And it brings to mind another question but she can't seem to make herself ask it, although it may be apparent from her face that a question exists.
“Wondering about something, sugar?”
"--When you were putting girl bits in, how thoroughly...?"
“—Oh, that. Well, I do start from normal human fertility, but if you want anything rearranged just let me know.”
"I don't know if I ever want kids but I definitely don't want them now or by accident."
There’s a brief tingling sensation.
“There’s other ways to do this, but it’s simplest if you just come in for a tune-up when you’re ready. Don’t worry when you don’t bleed, that’s normal.”
"I am not complaining. I've had enough blood for a dozen lifetimes."