[janus bounces the tiny basketball in their hand, rather proudly. they assess the hoops again, taking careful measure. and then make another throw, the hollow plastic thunking against the rim of the basket, before dropping neatly through. they manage to refrain from anything as obvious as pumping their fist and jumping around, but they look at ezekiel with some expectation of more praise, only to remember they're talking about something rather more serious.

right. yes, accolades and flattery can wait.] You're beginning to sound like me, [janus tells him.] It's all right to have a few expectations, about being treated well, being honest, receiving honesty in return. Or to talk to her a little about how it was in the other world, if she doesn't mind it, and if you think it would help. [they select the next basketball in their long hands.] I don't think it should be any worse than getting advice or finding a similarity with any other person, perhaps on the basis of culture or species. Sometimes I wonder what other versions of myself would have done in various situations.

[maybe not had sex with rosie, in knowledge that sometimes strangers come from other worlds. but janus has too much tact to bring that up unnecessarily. they toss the next ball.]