At length, they are fed, and walk back to Terrible Adarin's House. Isabella opens the door.

"Hello. Nice seafood place. Let me know when you want to go to sleep."

"Certainly. I've arranged things so your husband's ghost will not be lonely, I'm just eating before sleep."

"Thank you. Who's keeping him company?"

"A few people that owe me favors. They're all very nice, one of them volunteered when she heard the situation."

"Okay, good. You need a nickname, by the way."

"I'm not that upset with you," snorts Cypress.

"Ours - well, mine is sort of lying in wait until another Isabella-proper turns up - are Ice for me and Cypress for him."

"Hm," he says, and then after a short pause, "Prime."

"... 'Prime'?"

"Because I am in the Prime of my life," drawls the newly nicknamed Adarin.

"Ah, ironic nicknames. Is that going to be a trend?"

"I have no idea. It vaguely amuses me, another alt might not feel like being ironic, though. I couldn't say."

"Prime it is."

"Exciting."

"Less confusing, that's the important part."

"That, as well."

"Edarial can just keep 'Edarial' for the time being unless that's a recurring variation, but Iobel should pick something, I suppose, I wonder if she's gotten anywhere on that."

"If all else fails, call her, 'Hey, you.'"

"I think I'd go for 'cat lady' first."

"I won't ask what earned her that one for fear of disappointment."

"She has a cat."

"Alas, disappointment. I'd expected thirty cats, or her being part cat, or living in a giant cat floating in space."