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Even now, after months in Darrow, there's so much Demelza has never seen before. She does her best to learn, looking things up in books at the library and even on the computer in the apartment she and Ross share, though she's still terribly clumsy with that and prefers the atmosphere of the library at the end of it all. So she's learning and she thinks she might one day soon ask Mr Solo for more information regarding the GED he had so kindly told her about, but there are still thinks that shock her.

Ross is at work and Julia is at home with Abby. Demelza had taken Garrick and simply gone out to get some groceries and she had meant to stop by the library as well, but instead she'd gotten caught up on the street, staring openly at the shop she's seen before, but has never truly paid much mind to until now. The windows are papered with illustrations, intricate and beautiful, but there's one open window and through it she can see a young woman, not much older than she is herself, and she's bent over a man at least twice her age, drawing on his arm with a buzzing instrument.

Garrick whines and pulls at his leash, but Demelza can't look away. As she watches, blood and ink bloom on the man's skin, and although he winces once, it doesn't seem as if he's in much pain. She's never seen anything like it and her interest is only drawn away once, when she watches a middle aged man with a long needle that he puts through a woman's nose.

Leaning back, she peers up at the sign, squinting in an attempt to read it.

"Tat... oohs," she pronounces slowly. "And piercings." She rather wants to go inside, but thinks they might frown upon her dog and may not be too happy answering her questions, so she glances around, hoping to spot someone who may be willing to help her. It's only luck she catches sight of Baz and she brightens, waving at him.

"Baz, hello! Do 'ee have some time for me?"

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I'd forgotten that most people, just because I've seen them here together from home, like Simon and I, didn't start out here together. I've learned from others that Simon and I showing up at the same time is a bit of an anomaly. Privately, I wonder how I would have taken it, that first day, if I'd been alone.

I listen quietly, and quirk a curious brow at what that secret could possibly be. Ross seemed like a temperate man to me, and I can't imagine Demelza marrying someone who lived a scandalous life. Then again, back when she's from, the most inconsequential things are probably considered scandalous.

"That sounds awful. Unless they're abusive, I'll never understand why people try to impose their judgement on who other people want to be with. Simon and I weren't together back home, but I know my father wouldn't approve."

"Tis very different here," Demelza says. "Perhaps even where you're from, though perhaps not, if your father should have such opinions on who you love. Captain Blamey, he were the man Verity was in love with, and his first wife had died after he pushed her during an argument. He was in his cups at the time and he went to gaol, served his time, he did stop drinkin'. There wasn't a mean bone in his body, I would swear to it, but Verity's brother and father saw him as an unfit match."

She pauses and looks at Baz. "I were an unfit match for Ross, too. I'm just a scullery maid and he's a gentleman. My father didn't approve and Ross's uncle didn't approve. Ross and I, and you and Simon, perhaps we're all in the same type of situation at the end, though I suppose I understand more that one might not approve of me than of you and Simon."

As far as she can tell, they're both so kind, and status doesn't seem to mean as much in more modern times. "It weren't about status, were it? I mean, would it have been, if your father knew? For Ross and I, that's what it was."

"Classism is what you and Ross suffered from." I don't want to sound condescending, I'm simply not sure if they used the term back then. "It still exists in the, ah, modern world I come from, though perhaps in different ways. If you'd been a maid in my world and fallen in love with someone wealthy, some may have looked down on it, but it wouldn't be such a big scandal."

"My world is very much like Darrow's, though in the magickal community I came from we have our own sort of classism. That is, some families have a higher standing in society because they have stronger magic. My mother, her name was Natasha, came from a very rich and powerful family. My father did not, and her side of the family didn't approve of them. But they were in love," I explain. There were marriage rituals, duels my father had to win, but that's more complicated than is worth getting into.

"As far as Simon and I go, you're right. It was more that my father didn't approve that I'm queer. Gay." I wave a hand briefly, I don't care which label is used, personally. "Some people in my society don't care one whit, but homophobia still exists, as does racism and sexism. But, it was also because Simon was favored by the head of the Coven. That's all mage politics, though."

"It sounds to me that even if Blamey and Verity lived in a place like Darrow, Verity's family might still have reserves. But women have more freedom. They've fought for it, as all oppressed people have."

Demelza listens to Baz with interest, hungry for any knowledge that may be offered to her. Ever since leaving Illugan for Nampara, she had found herself completely in love with learning and Darrow offers more opportunity for it yet, through the library, of course, and the strange computer she's yet to master, and the people she's met. They all know so much more than she does and she is determined to learn everything from them that she can.

"Classism," she echoes, her voice soft and she nods at what Baz says next. "Men don't often bed down with other men where I'm from. I mean... somehow I'm sure tis something that happens regardless, just that it happens quietly, under the cover of night and no one will talk of it. Seems silly, t'be honest. Love is love." And people love who they love at the end of it all. Demelza doesn't understand why it matters, what any of it matters to others. She and Ross never hurt anyone with their love and she knows Baz and Simon haven't either. If anyone perceives hurt from it, it's their own biases, she decides.

"Well, I think you and Simon both are lovely," she tells Baz, squeezing his arm. "And should anyone say a mean thing t'either of 'ee about it, tell me, and they shall have a thrashing."