"...Abs?"
"Yes, Caliban. I'm aware. I'll swallow my distaste for now."
While any other skull would have been completely unable to form any sort of emotion rather than groteque, rigorous humor, Caliban's state allowed him to raise a browbone and twist his jaw into a viscous approximation of a pucker as he thought.
Absinthe followed Milly carefully, at a respectful distance, and Caliban, naturally, followed along.
[forum cryptid: it/it's]It feels... different. Cold, but not a bad cold.
My balance is different, my sight, my reflexes.
I feel more solid. And... I feel like a boy, not a girl.
What if there’s no better word than just not saying anything?Caliban drifted over lazily towards Milly.
"While I and, should we be correct, your....oh, I don't have a good word for it, never dabbled in the stuff myself, erm, thralls, would it be? To continue regardless we may not need sustenance but the Lady Alchemist does require food herself...even if her studies and research leave her forgetful of such activities."
"Caliban, what are you going on about over there?"
[forum cryptid: it/it's]The backpack, more aptly a case, was not ornate or beautiful in the regular sense but very well-crafted, each piece perfectly in place, drawers, it looked like, slotted precisely into the thing, with leather straps holding each in position. a fair-sized bottle remained uncorked and from it traced a strangely smokey trail of whatever held Caliban's form in shape.
[forum cryptid: it/it's]Absinthe checked through the various areas of the kitchen for food, but the commentary caught Caliban's attention.
"Oh, yes, the Lady Alchemist's case. Really a nice piece of work, couldn't have asked for better storage myself if that was my craft. I believe it was a gift, if memory serves correctly, but then again there's not a single guarantee I'm reliable for that, oh ho ho, nooooooo sir!"
[forum cryptid: it/it's]Caliban opened his 'jaw' to speak but was beat to the punch by the Alchemist herself.
"Caliban is a wonderful product brought forth through both my own particular field of study and the assistance of those more concerned with the dearly departed. He was brought forth, or back, through their arts and given form through my own processing and work. What you hear is their contribution, and what you see is mine."
[forum cryptid: it/it's]

"...Yyyyyyyes, why?"
dead devotion