♻ 002 | spam

[tucky]

[After a few days, Tiffany checks herself out of the infirmary. They were willing to let her go-- except for her teeth, she's mostly healed up; even her bruises are gone-- and she was starting to feel stir crazy, so out she went.

Except now she doesn't know where to go. She knows there's her cabin, but she doesn't want to spend all her time there-- it looks like a Litchfield prison bunk, so it's not the most comfortable place around. She's new, so she doesn't know the best common areas to hang out in. There are a lot of doors, but most of them are unopenable to her. So she wanders.

Despite her bravado and argumentativeness, the things people have been telling her since she arrived-- that she's dead, that she was chosen to be here, that she's here to make amends-- are getting to her. She doesn't fully believe them, but she can't completely disbelieve them either. If they're right (and what if they are?), everything she thought she knew about God and faith and atonement has been turned on its head. There was that man-- that Catholic-- who'd tried to help her reconcile this with what she believed, but it hadn't worked all that well. She's relatively new to her faith, and without someone spoonfeeding it to her, she's shaky in it. She's used it as both a comfort and a crutch in the past, and now she isn't sure that she has it at all anymore. She doesn't know whether that makes her feel depressed or furious; she doesn't know whether she wants to punch someone or curl up and cry. She isn't ruling out doing both.

Predictably, she finds her way to the chapel. Finding a Bible in the cabinet, she sinks down onto a bench and flips through it aimlessly, barely taking in what she's seeing. She tries the trick of opening to a random passage a couple times, but it only ever seems to be just that-- random. Sadness is the overwhelming emotion here-- sadness, confusion, feeling alone and lost. When a teardrop or two lands on the pages, she doesn't bother to brush them away.

At some point, she also wanders into the dining hall, circling the room and poking around for something to do. It's not time for a meal, but the cafeteria was a popular place to hang out and relax in Litchfield, so she figures it might be the same here. Unfortunately, she's leaning towards anger right now, and she's spoiling for a fight. That's not a good thing, on a prison ship filled with inmates just like her.]

[OOC: Permissions post for this character!]

Comments

[tucky]

[Now she's wondering if she imagined it.]

Did you talk?

[absentconstellation]

Yes.

[ He doesn't even stop in his cleaning. ]

[tucky]

Why'd you trick me? Are you some kind of shapeshifter?

[absentconstellation]

I did no such thing. I am a cat.

[tucky]

I didn't know you were a talking cat.

[absentconstellation]

And now you do.

[ And he's just about got his side back in the tidy order he likes it in. ]

I do not believe the Gods can hear you here.

[tucky]

[She shifts around on the bench, partially turning her back to Felis.]

What do you know about it.

[absentconstellation]

[ Once he is satisfied with his coat, the Cat rising into a siting position, tail wrapped comfortably around his legs. ]

We are not in the Mortal, Divine, nor the Peaceful Realms. This place is beyond the normal reach of the Gods.

[tucky]

I'm not talking about Gods, okay? I'm talking about God.

[absentconstellation]

[ He stares at her, a little confused but not terrible put off by it. ]

We are far from your Mortal Realms, little one.

[tucky]

I ain't little. You're a cat.

[absentconstellation]

[ Tired by the girl's stolid disbelief, he crosses the room so that he might rub up against her. ]

[tucky]

{She watches warily.]

What're you doing?

[absentconstellation]

[ He meows in answer. He's being a cat, obviously. ]

[tucky]

That ain't funny! I know you're not a regular cat; you can't trick me again.

[absentconstellation]

[ He meows again, walking around her to try and move his head up under her hand. It's a cat sort of an apology, for upsetting her as he did. ]

[tucky]

[And she... doesn't get it.]

Are you trying to make me think I'm crazy? 'Cause I'm not; I know I'm not!

[absentconstellation]

[ She may not be crazy but she is certainly dense. He'll even try getting up in her lap. ]

I have claimed to be nothing other than what I am. Now stop this foolishness.

[tucky]

[She... allows it. But with a frown.]

What foolishness.

[absentconstellation]

[ He attempts to get comfortable, purring in the probably vain hope that he might get her to pet him again. ]

You think too much. You need to relax.

[tucky]

[Instead of answering (or petting), she tugs her sweatshirt hood up, then crosses her arms over her chest.]

[absentconstellation]

[ Very well then. He will just purr and give off vaguely magical calming vibes. ]

[tucky]

[And so help her, those vibes actually start to work. Almost in a daze, her hand drifts down and starts to pet Felis again.]

[absentconstellation]

[ Yes, good. That's a wonderful thing about humans: they're easy to train. He continues to purr, tail flicking happily, but otherwise not moving much in case he might frighten her off again. So skittish, this one is. At least she stopped crying on him. ]

[tucky]

[After a lengthy pause, she finally asks:]

Do all the animals here talk?