Circe greets him by straight up throwing a parcel at him, wrapped in rope and brown paper.

Anders ignores Mischa, not sure where the jealous boyfriend trope really pays into what the hell Anders is doing here, and fumbles the package, only just managing to catch it. "Maker, I hope that wasn't breakable!"

"If it is, someone got my order wrong."

"Clothes, that notoriously breakable thing."

"Clothes?" Anders holds the package out. "Why are you handing me someone's clothes?"

"They're yours, dumbass."

"I... you ordered me clothes?"

"I don't know how things work where you're from, but round here we tend to have more than one or two sets of clothes."

"True enough...but this does imply you intend to keep me."

"Long enough to pay me back for those. But clothes aren't expensive. Most expensive thing in there's a wetsuit."

"Circe...thank you."

"Eh," she shrugs. "Wasn't gonna leave you with nothing. And Deke'll get tired of you filching his clothes."

"Still. It's a nice gesture, and I will repay you."

"You already work for me," Circe points out. "They're just clothes." There's something almost brittle to her tone, as she turns on her heel and walks away.

He wonders what that tone means while he peruses the selection Circe got for him. He’s pleased to now have more than one shirt. 

He goes aboard the Shard to put the clothes in the medbay. 

The Shard continues to be quiet, and soothing(?), and somehow present??

Nah, that's just the imagination.

"There's something about you, ship. I feel safe in here."

He pats the wall, fondly. "Or maybe I'm going mad. Either's an option."

There is, perhaps predictably, no response.

"Mad's kind of encouraged around here. We're called Circe's insane asylum for a reason."

"Well, aren't I just fitting right in!" Anders laughs.

"Zactly. You doing okay?"

Anders appreciates the check in, he does. But if he thinks about how he really is he'll lose what little marbles he has left.

"Yeah, all good. Just inspecting my new home."

-There's a sense that Rex doesn't entirely believe that, but he doesn't push.

"Yeah, she sure is something else," he agrees, patting a wall fondly. "Circ swears she's alive, but I ain't seen no real evidence of that.

"And I've learnt not to question Circe, lest she force some other lesson on me."

"Her lessons tend to have a point. She's probably gonna teach you how to shoot at some point as well. Or get Deke to."