But first, a moment with Fay, Morgan, and Morgan's hair

Your newly enlivened hair is somewhere between a new body part and a new pet. It's not the awkward, randomly tugging and tangling tresses of last week, but, as Fay points out, it's a rather conspicuous tell of your emotional state.

"Haha, Morgan," Fay says. "I thought I had a good read on you, but your new hair? I can read you like a book! When you're daydreaming, it floats about, when you're listening hard it sort of stands at attention. When you're fidgety it wiggles and taps. When you're bursting for a wee, it sort of tenses up like it's crossing its legs, and when you want a wank, it's sort of rubbing up all against itself."

"You're making that up," you say.

"Not hardly," Fay says. "Just look in a mirror."

"So what am I feeling now, eh, Miss Roundheels?" you ask.

"Aggro," Fay says. "All that curving forward and swaying like snakes. That's aggro."

You laugh. You can feel your hair relaxing and settling down. "Dead to rights," you say. "You could always read me better than I could read you. I never know when you're pulling my leg."

Fay grins. "Ha ha, only serious, that's me," she says. "People say I'm being sarcastic when I tell the plain truth, so I quit fighting it. Embrace your inner spite monster, that's me."

You shake your head. "That's not you at all, Fay."

"I thought you said you couldn't tell if I was pulling your leg," Fay says.

"You're pulling my leg," you tell her. "About being a spite monster."

Fay blinks away a tear. "Morgan," she says. "I tease you unmercifully and you just think it's because I love you."

"Because you do," you say. "You don't mean anything by it."

Fay steps forward and wraps you in her arms. "I do mean it, sometimes," she says. "But sometimes I just can't help it, and you're the only one who can see that," she rasps into your ear.

You hold her tightly with your arms. Your hair reaches out and caresses her, your living tresses sliding over her head and back. "When you're spiteful, I can't tell whether you mean it or not, but it doesn't matter to me," you say. "I don't really care about anyone else." You take a breath. "Maybe Golondrina."

Fay's sniffles turn into a laugh. "Yes, maybe Golondrina," she says. "Has she seen your new hair?"

"Not yet," you say. "She was busy, I was busy."

"I thought the point of changing Houses was that we were going to see Golondrina more often," Fay says.

"I suppose we'd better get on that," you say.

"I suppose," Fay says. "Since you've been rather busy yourself, becoming Miss Ha Ha I Can Kill You With My Hair."

You break up in a laugh. "Fay."

"Well you could," Fay says, lifting up her hands. "It's like four more arms."

"Four arms coming off my HEAD," you say. "It's not like my neck is any stronger."

"Oh, hah, yes, Miss I Could Kill You With My Hair But I'd Strain My Neck," Fay says.

You giggle. "Fay."

"Well?" Fay says. "Do you want me to grow mine out so you can mock my poor lank hair?"

"No?" you say. "I mean unless you want long hair."

"You're too good for me, Morgan," Fay says.

You give her a perplexed look.

"Ha, I've never seen your new hair do that!" Fay says. "It's a fair Gordian knot." She blinks. "Ah, ha ha ha, now look at THAT!" She points at your head.

You walk to the mirror. Your hair stands stiffly in a great dome or cowl, the long dark strands stretched out to their fullest extent. You breathe slowly and deeply. Your hair relaxes down to its normal slightly flyaway mane, twitching at the tips to betray its liveliness.

Fay walks up behind you and wraps her arms around you, holding you firmly around your breasts. Her big soft breasts press against your back, and she nuzzles into your shoulder.

"We look terrible in red and gold," Fay says. "Lolo better be worth it."

You reach a tress of hair back and tickle Fay's nose.

"Stop it, you unspeakable octopus!" Fay protests.

But she doesn't mean it, so you tickle her cheeks and chin and run your dark hair through her short, ice-blonde locks. Her protests turn into giggles and then into sighs. Some of the tresses that aren't busy with Fay start twining against each other.

"Bed?" you say.

"Yes," Fay says. "You beautiful monster."

"Your beautiful monster," you say.

"Yes," Fay says. "Yes."

And after that, for a time, there are no words, as you and your hair take Fay to bed. No words but for the occasional obscene outburst from your beautiful, spiteful, moon-faced lover, each curse in truth an exclamation of praise.

You have 3 XP, +2 Ambition, +0 Bravery, +2 Cunning, +0 Diligence.

You can use your hair as if it were another pair of hands for most purposes. If it is cut short, you lose this ability and take -1 to Bravery until it grows back.

You have a one-time FAVOR that you can call on by using the special power of your animated hair in an appropriate circumstance.

Your FRIENDS are Fay Applebum and Grace Winterthorn, both in House Leontes and formerly of House Minerval like yourself.

Your HANGER-ON is Ermintrude Cachalot of House Draconis.