Trey finds the bathroom, a tiny, decrepit room that has signs of previous vomiting and smells worse than he does. For a moment Trey almost turns right around and walks out, content to live with the blood on his hands, but he steels himself and makes his way to the sink.
Turning the water on he takes his time wiping down his hands, lifting his sleeves to wash his forearms, cleaning off his face. He even ducks his head under the faucet and allows the cool water to soak his hair, bits of dirt and oil and dried blood flaking out and swirling around the drain.
Trey only stops when he can see something that looks like himself through the grubby mirror. Tanned skin, cautious, wide-set brown eyes, light brown hair that verged on the edge of blond when he spent a significant amount of time in the sunlight. His appearance was a conglomerate of healthy genes, one of the few positive side effects that came from being the son of two nothlits.
---
Terenia returns the nod with a stiff smile, one hand clutching the whiskey and sour that Corliss had ordered for her. She doesn't know this new person, and he seems a bit...odd. Immediately that makes her guard go up. New people are a threat until determined otherwise.
"It certainly is a strange place," Terenia assents. She raises the tumbler to her mouth and takes a small sip. When she is finished her gaze is back on Corliss.
"I am sure Myitt is fine," she says, "for whatever reason, she trusts Ossanlin and I believe that he finds her useful. You don't destroy your own tools. As for the Imperials involved...well, Myitt seems resourceful enough."
