[The grills: Castor & Pollux]
Hannah was excited. One of the best things about Repose's weird little hiccups was meeting people, and she loved talking. She knew she was too much for people sometimes, so she thought it was better if she knew a lot of people and spread all that talking around in tiny parcels for everybody. She wasn't sure if she took it as a good thing or a bad, the fact that she seemed to discomfit people. She wasn't programmed to discomfit anyone. She was programmed to be a doll upon a shelf, one to be pulled down and pulled open, and she was really good at that. But she was always kind of broken, and she stared too long and stood too close. She had no real concept of personal space, and there wasn't any question she wouldn't ask. She had no shyness or shame, and she really wasn't ever apologetic.
All that aside, she was really looking forward to meeting Castor. She thought they were a he, based on how they sounded in their letters, but she wasn't super sure until her last client of the day pulled up to makeout point, having been willing to give her a ride. The client was a regular, and Hannah leaned over and kissed his cheek before climbing out of the big old truck that pronounced him the Sheriff.
And Castor was a man, because the only person grilling was a man. She smiled, and she walked quickly on sandals that bared her toes. She was summer, from hat to hem, and her long strawberry blonde hair was loose and blew in her wake.
When she was close enough to be heard, she hopped to a stop. Hop, hop, and her feet slept and slumbered against soles and green grass. She was human in every way, and she'd even bleed like a real person if you cut into her. "Castor!" she said, bright and accent-less. Then, moving closer and looking down at the grill a moment, she raised her cornflower gaze and focused it entirely, entirely on him. "You're not a swan at all. I thought you should know."