The dishes in the sink and the unemptied garbage can that smelled faintly of used coffee grounds seemed equally fascinating to him. "It's all so wonderfully ordinary," he said finally. Jin wasn't sure if this was a compliment or an insult, but neither prospect concerned her overmuch at that moment. "You act like you've never seen an apartment. How old are you, twenty?" "I've known everything from hovels to palaces, but nothing like this so recent. And I'm much older than that, Immanent One." "Could you call me Jin? And I meant in this incarnation." He frowned then. "As you wish, but Your -- Jin, I mean -- you're mistaken. I am not incarnate. I have simply taken an appropriate form." Jin reached out and pinched his arm, hard. "Ow!" said Frank, and Jin nodded. "Feels physical to me," she said. Frank rubbed his arm. "Your present circumstances must be confusing you, so I'll presume to explain: All bodhisattvas can assume corporeal form as appropriate or necessary. That's not the same thing as rejoining the Wheel of Life and Death." Jin brightened.
