Paul has never puttered much before in his life. He still doesn't have the knack for it. He's too fluidly efficient, going through the motions of making tea and setting Weeping Wafers on plates like he's field-stripping armor instead.

"They're not so bad when you're used to them," he says, in the midst of it, after the water is set up to heat through and Midoriya has been offered one of the high stools drawn up against the counters ringing the kitchen, "The skeletons. It's interesting, actually - you can learn a lot about variations in anatomy in terms of range of motion with a moving model."

"That one you saw is Harrowhark's. Her people pledge their bones to their House, when they die. It's their way of honoring their dead," he adds, as if it's a casual afterthought, folding himself up on a stool with his leg drawn up to cross over his knee, improbably and perfectly balanced despite the backlessness of the chair. "She brought them from home with her. I think that must be comforting, don't you?"