Xaviers!

After a rather undignified nap on the couch, Miriam has more or less recovered from un- and re-constituting Will. She considers getting a coffee, but even after being elbow deep in Will's mind she's still a little anxious whether or not it worked. Sure, it seems like it but then she hasn't actually seen a Will emerge back out from the Cauldron. The mirror had kind of an obvious sign of activity when looking into it, the cauldron just kind of... simmers.

"You wouldn't happen to have a triple espresso brewing in there by any chance?" she jokes as she runs a finger along the rim.

It may have been a joke, but after a moment, a pale arm rose out of the cauldron, carrying with it a small white porcelain cup, some steam rising over the edge.

"Well then." she smiles slightly and takes the cup. She holds it up to smell it before taking a small sip. "What can't you do. How about a bottle of Don Perignon? And some beluga caviar."

The delay was shorter this time, as a second -- and then third -- arm stuck out of the cauldron; fancy wine bottle and tin being held aloft.

"I don't know why I never thought of this before!" she laughs, taking the bottle and setting it aside before cracking open the tin to scoop a bit of caviar out with a finger. It's very undignified but who's going to judge.

"I'm underdressed for this kind of indulgence." she decides. "Sleeveless dress, purple. A silver necklace, black fur stole and some sensible heels."

One by one, the requested articles of clothing popped over the lip of the cauldron -- the necklace and heels first, then the stole, then the dress, each of which took a little longer than the item before it. But they were there, and of the usual quality Miriam had come to expect from Will -- at least, since she had started schooling him on fashion.

"Hmm." she hums with her fingers on her lips, clothes slung over one arm. "Too much at once or are you getting tired?" she asks, reaching out and holding her palm above the surface of the liquid, checking to see if it's not too hot to touch.

"Still getting the hang of everything..." Will's voice came from inside the cauldron.

Despite the look of the simmering clay, it seemed to actually be resting at a fairly pleasant temperature -- toasty, not scalding.

"Take your time. Hang on..." She steps away from the cauldron for a moment to slip out of her clothes and into the dress Will provided. One advantage of sentient clothes she hadn't expected but has come to appreciate is the lack of need for any kind of additional support while still sporting fantastic cleavage.

"I was going to celebrate with a couple days of indulgence, but maybe I'll wait until you've acquainted yourself with your new accommodations." she says, coming back all dressed up and with a coffee mug into which she pours some of the champagne. She tings it against the rim of the cauldron, then tips a little bit of the champagne back into it. "Cheers." she says and takes a sip herself. Who knows if putting something that is (was?) part of Will into it has the same effects as mixing 'foreign' substances into them.

The dress adjusted itself to fit Miriam as she slipped it on, having learned from experience precisely what cuts Miriam liked.

"Don't hold yourself back on my account. It's just...different, that's all."

The champagne bubbled and fizzed before being re-absorbed, with no immediately obvious effect.

Miram runs her hands down her hips and her thighs, smoothing out non-existent creases.

"So you're saying a test-drive is needed?" she smirks and dips her hand partway into the liquid, raking her fingers through it.. "Push the engine and see how it runs?"

The clay was warm to Miriam's touch; a little more resistance than dipping one's hand in a bath but still on the liquid side of things. Honestly, it should be much hotter, but then again, Will and physics had only a passing familiarity with one another.

"Better to find what breaks now than down the road, right?"

"Okay, I have to ask... Is a mud bath on the table? Or is this thing only pretending to have a bottom and I'd sink into the world's deepest pit?"

"I mean, I'm not quite sure myself," Will admitted. "I've never hit bottom, but that's because I sort of...melt. You don't melt, do you, Miriam?"

"Not regularly, no. Hang on."

She slips out of her shoes, downs the mug of champagne and puts the bottle within reach of the cauldron and then more or less gracefully hefts herself over the rim, continuing to hold on to the edge, just in case.

Slipping into a mud bath was a decent starting point for comparison. There's a bit of resistance at first, the clay pushing back against Miriam's weight, but a little bit of pressure is enough for Miriam to break the surface and slide a foot in, the clay sliding up her toes and slowly rising up as she carefully lowered herself down. The clay sort of molded itself to the contours and curves of Miriam's body, buoying her up in the cauldron.

She didn't feel a bottom, at least, not right away. But the clay got more viscous and dense as she sank in, making it harder to go any deeper, serving as a sort of temporary bottom and making it difficult to accidentally sink in.

Unlike a mud bath, the clay was warm -- presumably from the fire roaring underneath it -- and smooth, without the grittyness or granularity you might find in mud. It also presented a sort of tingling sensation, sort of like tiny sparks of electricity dancing beneath the her skin. Not in an overwhelming or intense way -- more of a gentle wave of warmth and exhilaration.

Miriam can't help but let out a contented sigh. With the slight electric tingle it's almost more invigorating than relaxing. She spreads her arms along the edge of the cauldron to lean back but finds she barely has to hold herself up despite the fact there's no solid ground beneath her feet. The sensation vaguely reminds her of the time Will's power got inverted and used on her.

"I can see why you'd miss this." she says as she reaches out to fish for the bottle of champagne with her hand.

A bubble of laughter in the clay at that.

"No, you don't, but that's OK. I'm glad you're enjoying it."

"I'll take what pale shadow of it I can get. What is it like in there anyway, moment to moment? Are all the facets swimming around inside your mind?"

"Mmmm. No, not really. It's a little disorienting -- that's what I mean by getting used to it. Because I remember everything I did...all of me. And reintegrating so many 'mes' at one time is a lot of memories to grok at once. But it's not like they remain individual or distinct once they're in here. You couldn't, I don't know, 'talk' to the grandfather clock that used to be out there as any kind of unique thing."

"And the other way around? All those... potential yous?"

"It's not like there's a...a queue or something in here. You didn't pull out a part of me that's just been waiting to be champagne. You just...summoned that bit of me to the surface and gave it shape and form and purpose."

Miriam lets out an amused laugh. "You sound like head-mistress static noise for thoughts, only you make some amount of sense because it's about things that actually exist rather than... cloud probability... math. You've got champagne in you and the thought gave it..." she waves her hand in a circle as she's thinking. "Definition! And pushed it into a shape. S'ppose that's what I do with other peoples' thoughts. Temporarily. Maybe you're rubbing off on me. Can I blame that for warping my power? Rather than an ill-advised drug bender?"

"Too much exposure to a Stanton can have long-term lasting effects," Will said, mock-seriously. "It's been known to happen."

"And yet you're the impressionable one. Or... malleable. Whatever." She should not have thrown back a whole mug of champagne on an empty stomach after performing renovative mental architecture. "Clearly just a ploy to worm yourself into peoples' lives and trick them into being better people."

"Oh, clay is often very impressionable. Get a semi-solid hunk out and you can impress all sorts of things."

"And you're the one who 's keeping a nice bubbling pot on tap for when you need it," Will joked.

"You're not a hunk. Maybe a twunk." she grins. "And it's not my fault you're so damn convenient."

"Yes, convenience. Why, everyone has a cauldron blocking off a corner of their room; it's just chic. Much more subtle than a flat mirror," Will joked.

"Hey. Last time I checked you can't take stimulating mud baths in a mirror. And green hair just does not work for my complexion anyway."

"Agree to disagree.

Although, Sam might think you were trying to be leprechaun-coded, anyway, so maybe green hair should be avoided. Just this once."

"That's red hair, green clothes. What, is your head a gently simmering stew? Quick look into Will Stanton's mind..." she says and leaves a dramatic pause before cupping some air in her hand as she submerges it so that it escapes a moment later in a slow *glub* of the bubble escaping. "Ah, yes, very insightful." she teases.

"Even leprechauns need away kits," Will joked.

"That champagne went to your head fast, did it?"

"I skipped breakfast. And then napped through lunch. Leave me alone." she laughs.

"Well, that's no good. As a cauldron in a spooky place, I think it's my new job to fatten you up? I haven't gotten the manual yet."

"The resident 'witch' does occasionally eat me. As does the cauldron now that I think about it." she grins and swirls her leg around.

Miriam's leg created ripples and patterns in the clay, bits dripping off back into the pot as she raised it off.

"And here you are, braising yourself in the middle of the afternoon for her. So thoughtful," Will joked.

"Well, jury's still out on the efficacy of this particular mud-bath, but knowing your incessant helpfulness my skin's probably going to be radiant."

"I strive for excellence in all things, and hit it a fair percentage of the time, too," Will joked. "No sense half-assing something."

"Don't half-ass anything, full-ass everything. Being Will Stanton sounds exhausting, no wonder you spend half your exponentially-expanded time being a rug or a desklamp."

"It really is very zen, just being and existing. You get to just kind of feel the world as it exists around you; no cares, no worries. Uh...Melpomene once made it so I couldn't form any thoughts; that they'd collapse if I tried to hold something in my mind. I believe it frustrated her that I rather enjoyed that, and her response wasn't great. But spend enough time as a rug, and you get to just sort of... let everything go.

Though if you're looking to relax, a lamp's the wrong thing by far. That's all about anticipation and release; energy flowing and being redirected. Entirely different experience, that."