"Cyllene!  Pretty.  Where are you from?"

. . . She sort of pat-tickles the surface of the water.

"Fair enough.  I'll ask someone later.  Have you always not had a voice or did you lose it doing something cool?"

"Nice."  It turns out the bath has jets; he flicks them on and starts to sudsing up.

For a moment she's startled but then she discovers that this is approximately the best thing ever.  Sure, she'll copy the sudsing up; she has a little trouble with the parts involving standing but does manage it.

Meanwhile, the first guy is wandering around looking for paper.

Someone else finds him first, but she mostly ignores him.

Is he still at the costume party.  Where did everyone else go, then?  And how the hell did he get here; is there an entire secret wing of this house.

"Uh, 'scuse me - "

Does no one here talk.

"There's this like, minor girl, in like a pool, and she can't talk I guess, so I was looking for some paper?

"What's your name."

"Uh.  Ariel."

"And last?"

"X."

"I see."  She reaches into a nearby cupboard and pulls out a notebook - on second inspection a strange one; it's bound up the longer edge and the lines run parallel to that.  She doesn't hand it to "Ariel" but starts walking in the direction he came.

That's fine; he'll follow.

Cyllene was not a fan of the way shampoo made her hair feel but now after the conditioner it is SO SMOOTH.  Her hair has never felt as smooth and soft and good as this.  These people are definitely onto something.

Ariel enters, turns towards a wall, throws a hand over his eyes, and points flamboyantly behind him.  "That's her."

"You wanted me to bring her paper in the bath?"

"She wasn't in the bath earlier.  Or she was but she wanted out."

"Sam, this is Cyllene, do you know where she's from?"

"I don't remember a Cyllene being mentioned . . ."

"Oh.  Who are you?  With the tattoos."

"Ariel."