Have you ever gotten new glasses? Put them on, looked around, and suddenly perceived all of the details that had always been there, waiting for you to finally see them? That's what the gloves were like for Temperance. The ease and thoroughness of clean they offered comforted them at first. But soon they saw the details: what once was considered clean could now be even more clean with prestidigitation. There was a hidden level of dirt they hadn't been aware of until now.
They started in their room, casting the spell over every surface they could reach. A deep clean. When they had finished, they moved to the washrooms, then the kitchen. They were a little over halfway done with the kitchen when they heard the door open, their mother entering after the end of her shift. Temperance immediately stopped, standing up straight.
"Temperance..." Their mother had heard the casting as she entered and could smell the distinct but subtly pleasant odor of the spell. "Please tell me you packed before starting this again." Her voice was exasperated though not unkind.
"Umm, I thought cleaning would be good to do before I leave."
"So, no."
"I still have time."
"Temperance, you're leaving tomorrow morning. You are quickly running out of time." Silence sighed. They had just started improving again when Filanore gave Temperance the gloves. She could see them fidgeting even now, anxious to finish their task. "How much left do you have to do? Of the kitchen, after that you're done. Your father and I can manage to keep the house clean while you're away."
"Just a bit." They returned to casting the spell.
Later that evening, they could hear their parents talking. They knew it was about them, but Temperance didn't want to hear it. Truth be told, they were nervous about leaving. This place was their sanctuary. Everything was right here... well, almost right. As right as it could be without Charity. They had arranged to stay in a small studio on campus. Unfortunately, the college a town over was just far enough to justify moving. They had to do something, though. Or go somewhere. They couldn't stay in this house forever. So, they continued to pack.
Their mother said to take things slowly, get used to their new environment, and not lean too heavily on the gloves. To relax and breathe a little. Their father said to focus on their classes. That maybe the distraction would help keep them from thinking too many anxious thoughts. After that, they were off.
A few months in, Temperance had started to adjust. Their little room was easy to keep clean after an initial prestidigitation run. The town was smaller, the air was fresher, and overall quieter than their home, but not too quiet. The initial classes, however, were starting to bore them. All of the time working with their parents seemed to have prepared them a little too well for the introductory classes. Social life was the real struggle for Temperance. That was, at least, until they found the cousin of one of Charity's old friends. Small tower, and all of that.
He was from the outskirts of Orithyll, Temperance learned. His name was Mylo. Average height, muscular, and voice tinged with a slight accent common in the Orithyll outskirts. Turns out he was only slightly older than them. When asked about his studies, he perked up.
"I saw a hell of a lot of bloody injuries when the war hit our town, but more than anything I saw people's minds being injured," Mylo said, tapping his head. "As far as I can tell, we know an awful lot about healing body wounds but not a lot about healing mind wounds. So that's why I'm here."
They continued to talk, and eventually Mylo invited them to a bar in town. Temperance hesitated. They'd seen the outsides of several bars in town and none of them looked particularly sanitary.
"Oh, my apologies, if that's up your alley, we can surely find somewhere else." They eventually settled for a bistro. There was patio seating, good food, and good conversation aided by even better amounts of wine. Mylo invited Temperance over to his home. Temperance accepted. The conversation and wine flowed, the dance continuing late into the night. Mylo would ask, suggest, make a subtle move and wait. Temperance would respond in the affirmative, drinking in the attention.
They lounged on a bed, Mylo shirtless, Temperance leaned up against several pillows. Mylo ran his hand through their hair as Temperance watched how every muscle of his body moved, how his skin glistened under the lamp light. They leaned in. It wasn't romance they wanted. Not even love. No, they wanted something visceral, carnal even. Their lips met and for a moment, one blissful moment, and all they felt was pure sexuality. Heat pulsed from their mouth, tingled down their spine from where Mylo's hand caressed their scalp. They could feel his quickened breathing under their hands as they touched his chest and side.
And then their mind caught up to what was happening. Saliva. Sweat. Used breath. Then their mind kept going to what was next, where this dance would lead them. Nausea replaced pleasure and the moment was gone. They pulled away and ran to the bathroom, feeling ill. By the time Mylo caught up to them, Temperance was vomiting into the toilet. He held back their hair as they continued to wretch.
"Gods, are you alright? It wasn't too much wine was it?" Eventually Mylo determined it must be nerves. "It's perfectly natural to be nervous your first time. I should've been more upfront about my intentions... My apologies again, Temperance. If you're not up for more, at least let me walk you home."
Temperance was more than happy to let him think that was the case. It took a little convincing to let Mylo walk them home, though. The embarrassment was overwhelming. When they finally got home they put on the gloves, cast prestidigitation, brushed their teeth, took a long hot bath, then cast the spell again. They still felt dirty.
They tried their best to avoid Mylo after that. It didn't last long. A week later Mylo found them, calling out to them across a walkway on campus.
"Temperance! There you are! I thought you fell off the edge of the tower!" Mylo was all smiles, as if nothing odd had happened between them. A man with wispy curls and loose clothing held Mylo's hand. They seemed to be together. This put Temperance at ease.
Soon they were integrated into Mylo's group of friends. They quickly found that the person on his arm switched rather frequently. After a while, they were finally convinced to try the tavern the group frequented.
The outside was rainy and dark when the group arrived. The old door creaked as it was pushed open. Temperance squinted despite the warm light inside being barely brighter than outside. Their shoes stuck to the floor with each step. Laughter, music, and conversation flooded the air, already laden with the scent of booze. At least this tavern only allowed smoking in the back section.
Temperance froze in place. They could feel whatever was on the floor crawling up their legs. They wanted to leave. One of the friends pushed them forwards towards a booth towards the front, in a corner between the door and bar. Temperance sat by Mylo and his newest fling. Across from them sat two more men and a woman dressed in dark clothing. They barely noticed. They were trying not to breath in the air through their mask, but their rapid heart rate was forcing the matter. Their hands were balled tightly in their lap, longing for their gloves. Every muscle was tense.
"You alright, Temperance?" The woman asked. She was looking at them with concern.
"Yes, just, umm, sorry..." They squirmed a bit and finally relented, putting on their gloves and casting prestidigitation on the area they were sitting in. They began to calm, safe in a bubble of their own making.
"I knew you were a clean freak, but that's intense," the woman continued staring for a moment before looking back down at the menu in front of her.
"Mmmhmm..." Temperance also looked down, a little embarrassed. At least the loud atmosphere covered the casting. The others were trying to pull them into their conversation, though they had missed the beginning of it.
"Oh! Temperance, maybe I can convince you to join. We're looking for volunteers at the community theatre. I bet you'd be great at it." This was from the man at the far end. Temperance considered this. They'd been to a few plays before Charity's health had declined, and rather enjoyed the ones they'd been too.
"Sure, I don't know much about it, though."
"That's not a problem. We can switch you around to different groups to see what you like. There's someone for everyone and the environment is very welcoming."
Temperance nodded and the evening continued. They got food and drink and had no issues. Their little bubble had worked. As they were about to leave, Mylo's boyfriend spoke up.
"Mylo mentioned you're a little prone to stress. I don't mean to pry... But I run a little nursery in town." He pulled out a bag of loose tea. "You should try this. If it helps, well, maybe I can sell you a plant." He smiled at his marketing strategy.
"Oh, thanks." They took the tea. They found it did help, a bit. Soon they had a potted plant with yellow flowers in the tiny kitchenette of their studio. Mylo was very interested in the plant for his studies. He ended up staying with the nursery owner for a long time, picking his brain on folk remedies. Or at least it was a long time for Mylo.
Temperance did enjoy the little community theatre. It was a freeing but controlled environment. They learned a lot about make up, and not just how to look good on the stage. Fake wounds, covering horns and pointed ears, adding horns and pointed ears, augmenting ones assets with paddings and compression. It felt like a super power.
And when they were the ones in costume? It felt absolutely transgressive. It was exhilarating. It was like the act of dressing transformed them into an entirely different being. This must be what Charity meant all those years ago. With make up, prosthetics, curlers, and a dress they could be a tiefling femme fatale, the one to doom the protagonist with her guiles. With a suit, props, and a sour expression they could be the butler, the one who definitely didn't murder the victim. They could blend in as an extra, meant to be looked over, or they could stand out, draw attention to themselves to distract from the scene change on the other side of the stage.
All the while they continued in their classes. When visiting home, their parents even noticed their increased confidence. It may not have been perfect, but they were figuring out where exactly in the tower they fit.