deercountry | yes I knew it was no moonshine, it is real

[now what indeed! she drops to the sand, backs up a pace, looks up at battler and then back at the sand, and repositions herself so her back's to him before she busies herself with swiping into the sand, digging out lines not unlike a housecat might do with a litterbox, though she is very deliberate in her marks. the curves are harder. so her letters are sharp and the "s" in particular resembles a more of a backwards z, but it's probably clear enough once she's finished, even if she has spelled 'zleeper' with a pointy little frowny face below it. :<]

[it's because she loves you. and also because she's worrying too damn much. except when she's relocated to jinx's lap - that reboots her brain almost as much as a hug might, and she settles in to purr against her sister's belly, also unconcerned with a cup leaving a ring. (for now?) jinx has eaten, and she did drink something. sleepers are hardy, she reminds herself and continues to purr (especially loudly when that hand lights upon her back) her paws kneading rhythmically as her eyes begin to close. (breathe in strength, breathe out bullshit) she could say a lot of things in response, but she's unable to in this form. though she does do a little raise of her head to look up at jinx through slitted kitty eyes.

it could take a bit of time. it might never be truly home. that could depend on a lot of things. (breathe in strength) like if silco were to resurface? (breathe out bullshit) it might go a bit of a ways toward that. she will not let her hackles raise at the thought of him, though her tail poofs just a little bit, and she makes effort to move it under her feet.]

[maybe it's the sight of someone she likes in distress. maybe it's the way he says it - his gestures evoking the scene clear enough - this is something recent, something that may be more beneath his weariness (and wariness) than even the blood effects. maybe it's because it needles at her own personal demons, the ones she once laid at the feet of her sister, the ones she's trying to shoulder herself - the ones that several people (sansa especially. saeri. eden comes to mind long enough to tell her shes being an idiot) whatever it is, it closes her throat so she can't reply right away.

maybe that's for the best. it's why her own eyes shine as she watches him wordlessly, one hand clenching only loosely and worrying fingers against palm until the other one covers it and stills the gesture. she swallows thickly, following the tears in their descent and leaving her gaze there as it blurs.

she's learned to just listen. it hasn't been easy. there's too much of her that wants to jump in and fix everything - for just about everyone - but this is done and gone and over and probably not from a book of memories. she can't be sure, but call it a hunch.

she'd heard benzo die (ekko watched that, the whole thing. i saw everything he'd said) - she'd watched vander die - mylo, claggor - (you left her) - and then she'd watched her sister nuke the council building presumably with her (?) girlfriend's mother and a whole host of people (viktor, jayce) inside (you let her) - and it's just like he says. can't do anything. can't change it. it's something she's just gotta live with.

she gets the disgust. the anger. the useless, sickening cavern of the nothing that can be done about it.

she lets her own tears fall unchecked - they've come before, they'll come again. it's hard to say who they're for. robby. herself. the dead. the living. maybe it's all of them.

she only opens her hands, looks up but doesn't rise, not yet - though she's ready to, and that might be obvious. should he move toward her, she'll do the same, and maybe it won't help anything at all. should he not, she'll stay where she is, but either way, she'll say, very softly:]

It sucks so much, and I'm so fucking sorry.

[vi does a little fistpump (pawpump) in the air, glad that scorpia isn't mad, surprised that the blood has not only invigorated her, but also how palatable it had been. she's going to chalk that up to this borrowed body and the intricacies of its insides. who's a good batkitty? this batkitty. she holds her paw out again for a little high five.]

[ Wait. It's writing.

He just stares for a few moments, a little flabbergasted. Then he has to read it. ]

Wait.

[ He blinks. ]

Sleeper? You're... a sleeper? Are you always a batcat?

[at the first mention of sleeper she mews - surprisingly (even to her) kittenish, a tiny little yes, and she nods and flutters her wings, rising up into the air again before shaking her head no. she brings her paws up to her ears and pats them, and then reaches back to grasp her tail, bringing it between her legs to hold up with one paw while she manages a little shrug with the other before her tail flicks itself away and she spins to bat at it.]

[ Huh. He doesn't know how to take all of that. Although that does tell him something about her. He looks distracted for a moment, his brow furrowing. ]

...so, how'd you end up a batcat, then? Do you wanna go back?

[huge shrug, which does look a bit odd when a cat does it. but she thinks a moment and returns to the sand, wiping away her previous message to spell 'curze' with a little pointy question mark at the end of it. it's easier than trying to spell 'facepaint' or the obvious: 'because trench'. she doesn't think to write 'mask'.]

...guess it's Trench being... cursey again.

[ He sighs and settles down onto the sand with a shrug. ]

Well... if you're not in too much trouble, I can at least keep you company.

(she spots her tail poofing in which she raises a hand to pet her along the head to soothe her. yearning to lie back down, jinx scoops of her cat sister as she shifts to rest flat on the couch -- placing her back on her stomach. even with this new position, she doesn't break away her gentle strokes.)

When it's quiet like this, I get... nervous. I feel like someone is watchin' me. From somewhere.

(jinx squeezes her eyes shut as she takes in a breather. the next things she says are in mutters and mostly to herself. but it's loud enough for her sister to hear:)

It's just me and the cat. Nothin' else. No one else... I'm just thinkin' too much. I'm fine. There's no one outside — (but then she recalls the window being open still. once her eyes open again, she tilts her head back to make an effort to look over; upside-down view.)

Shit. That's been open. Someone might be here, right? (then her gaze is to her sister cat.) ... Right?

[She would have liked a little more heads up about it, but she understands there's only so much a non-talking cat can do on that front! Once the initial surprise wore off, Scorpia was just happy to feed her adorable little furry and vaguely familiar friend.

She sets down her beer after a sip and then extends her pincer to gently give the little high five!]

There we go! That's a good girl. I wonder what I should call you. ...Toothy McKittensworth? ...I'll brainstorm a bit!

[ .. a favourite animal, huh. Chizuru seems to have to think about that one for a moment. Sure, there are a lot of animals she thinks are cute or pretty, but it's not like she has a distinct favourite..

Though it's more Vi's last remark that her mind ends up lingering on. ]

Do you think so?

[ Her tone suggests that Chizuru is entirely willing to believe what Vi claims here - no matter which side of the 'scary or not' side she ends up falling on. ]

Maybe then.. just to make sure, we should do something that's a little scary? But also cute? [ Look. It's hard for Chizuru to ever fully look scary. Look at that girl. ]

Do you think there's any animal out there that's both, miss Vi..?

[ The words are out, and he hates it; and it's strange how one can hate what they already knew, were cradling inside them, when the truth is spoken out. I can't change it, and I have to live with that. It's burn in him, boiling with the emotion that wants to get out, to show his feelings instead of how Robby tries to contain them. Cloverfield weeps for everything lost, and so should those under its month. Remember, and weep. Anguish, and care.

It never stops.

Robby grips at the cube tighter, corners digging into his palms, pressed in deliberately. His jaw hurts as his throat does, tightened and constricted, a mind refusing to blank on what he's forced to remember: more than just a moment, because what is death than just the ending of life? There's the choice that led to it, the promise, 'We'll get out'; and if Robby hadn't fought for them to leave --

It's never about how things could've been different. It's about what they were, how they ended; remembering the hope and belief that you felt before everything crashing down, the fucking absolute moron you were. The life it cost (lives), the more it could've, with 2B losing her literal skin to protect the both of them.

If Robby sees the hands, he doesn't acknowledge them. But his mouth is trembling despite its better efforts, and he can't fight anything, can he? And the trembling reaches his shoulders as he throws the poor cube aside, banging his now free fist on his knee as he leans, pressing his other hand into his face. It's hard to speak when everything about his body works against him, humiliates him like this--

But Robby squeezes his fist tight, and speaks hoarsely against his aching throat: ]

I can't do anything like this.

[ He can't change, he can't be better, he can't put out the good to make up for the bad; and the fault is Trench, the blood, the Patron he's under. All of that is the reason.

Not the hurt. Because hurt, everyone carries that, and Robby knows how to, too; he knows he can swallow it down, keep on going, because that's what he does.

It's just everything else that's picking him apart. ]

[ Absolutely did. ]

Kihihi! You're far too kind, but yes I am quite beautiful~!

[ Beatrice is pleased by the flattery and breaks into more laughter as Vi insists that she should also be a cat. ]

A skull-faced cat? I could try it, but only if you ask, dear kitten!

This is a regular picnic, is it not? I do so love a picnic. Take heed, Kainé, I shan't have you slandering me in front of strangers.

[ Kainé rolls her eyes as her Omen registers his own demand for respect. Why does he have to talk so much like him anyway? ]

Yeah, looks like it.

Edited 2022-10-24 05:19 (UTC)

Of course I don't. I'm perfectly capable of being fun on my own.

[Is she though...]

But if you have any recommendations I wouldn't mind having them. Or maybe you could paint something and surprise me with the results.

[Maria doesn't want to admit it, but she doesn't really have any ideas of her own. She can't recall the last time she was called upon to be creative.]

[scorpia is good with words, and it's a silly name for a cat, so she tries to laugh - it comes out as if she's about to hork a hairball onto the counter. not what she was aiming for.]

[the batcat can smell many things from the open window, but an intruder isn't one of them. jinx's self talk earns a little rub of her cheek against her belly, which she then pauses to sniff because ...did you know humans have smells?! that identify them! it's a cool little thing she hadn't thought about from an animal's perspective, and has only recently learned that sleepers have a sleeper smell but also their own (all different!) smells by which they can be identified. so just a little nudge from a cold, wet, kitty nose before vi returns the look with curiosity, and then ...a headtilt.

she'd better go check it out, just in case. she's not exhausted, she can do this! so she stretches and zooms to the window, sniffing around it, looking out of it with an exaggeration of movement, to all sides, up and down, looking back at jinx with a headshake of 'no' before she reaches up and shuts the window with her paws.

she flits back over, curling and settling onto her sister's stomach with a little mrrow of 'nope. nothing's here.']

[it's less trouble than she's gotten up to in her regular form, so ...definitely a manageable level of trouble. and yes, she huffs in agreement - trench has gotten cursey. she's not sure what the lesson is to this one, other than learning about animal senses (again with the sleeper smells!), and how difficult it is to communicate without words and thumbs.

as he sits in the sand her eye is caught by something gleaming - she wiggles a moment before pouncing on it, and finding that it's inanimate - a shiny glass marble that is definitely an eye - she bats it over toward battler.]

[It does sound like that! Scorpia's concerned for her little friend!]

You okay there, Toothy? Sorry if my blood went down the wrong pipe! [She gently pats the batcat back to help her out!]

[she doesn't disagree.]

That depends on what kind of thing you're going for. Scary, pretty, or some combination of both. But yeah, I can throw something on that face in no time. You've got a good canvas.

[the latter is what vi would choose if she had to choose for her. and is it a flirt? yeah, a little, but not a serious one.]

[a little nod toward the leopard omen.] In some circles, mouthy bastard is a compliment. Plus, she matched you. Probably also a compliment, even if it's backhanded.

[you know, in case that helps.]

Anyway. [a matching eyeroll because omens.] Back to the thing at hand, or the thing in hand. [a raise of her bottle and there goes the rest of it.]

ɪ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴛᴏ ᴀ ᴘɪᴄɴɪᴄ. ʙᴜᴛ ɪꜰ ɪᴛ ɪꜱ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜɪꜱ? ɪ ʟɪᴋᴇ ɪᴛ ᴠᴇʀʏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ. ɪ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪꜱʜ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴛʜɪɴɢꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴄʜᴀꜱᴇ. ɪ ᴄᴀɴɴᴏᴛ ᴅᴀɴᴄᴇ, ʙᴜᴛ ᴀ ᴄʜᴀꜱᴇ ɪꜱ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴀ ᴅᴀɴᴄᴇ. ɪᴛ ɪꜱ ʜᴀʀᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴄʜᴀꜱᴇ ɪɴ ᴀ ᴄʀᴏᴡᴅ.

[call her mouthy? she'll talk, then. and so will violet after a moment, because she's getting the impression that fang is judging her for rudeness. which is ...another pot/kettle thing all on its own.]

I'm Vi. I've seen you before, but I don't think we've---nah, I'd remember you if we'd met.

The whole celebration seems to kind of mash them together. Apples and fake blood. Cider and pumpkins and ...bones? [that's what the holiday's about, isn't it? yeah. she's sure she got that part right, at least. a thoughtful hum.]

Cute and scary, let's see. [ah, on cue there is visenya, flying in to perch and observe (as batcats do), and eventually raise a paw to wipe at her face.] Cats can be scary. Visenya's scary sometimes, when she's defending her turf. Dogs, too. Wolves. Squids, but that would just be...

...you don't want to be a squid, do you? [does she?] The nightmares are terrifying, but so cool looking, and screw it, I say pretty. Spiders can be both. Birds, too. People sometimes think ravens and crows are scary, but...eh. [shrug] What about a fox, or a hawk or...

...a butterfly? A cute skeleton?

[she will twist herself into a pretzel trying to come up with ideas. she can make chizuru scary if she really tries! she can! maybe.]

Okay.

[a long exhale, and she's up, motioning for him to do the same.] Get up, come on. Let's go outside. We can walk. Fast, if that's better, but slow's cool, too.

[it's the only thing she can think of to try besides sparring. or dancing. neither seem like a good suggestion in the moment - oh, a spar's the solution to everything for some people, but that doesn't seem to be what robby needs. or maybe it is - she can always come back to that. a half hearted swipe at her cheek before she extends a hand - ha can take it or not, she's fine either way. he is ...very much not fine.]

We can talk while we walk or I can shut the fuck up and listen.

That's the first time I've ever thought of myself as a piece of art. Or thought of art much in general.

[There's not much time for that in war. The idea makes her chuckle. She feels a little lighter and more energetic than she has in days.]

Scary or a combination, I think. You might be doomed to failure if you tried for something pretty.

yes I knew it was no moonshine, it is real

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cw: paranoia

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