twenty-nine ➢ spam

[patheticvillain]

spam } various times 1/24-1/28

[There is a small, slim, and unfamiliar black cat walking the Barge this weekend. A familiar item hangs around his neck: two coins fused together by supernatural strength, hung on a leather thong. With it, the cat seems to pass freely throughout the ship, though he clings to shadows in the hallways.]

[Most often, he can be found in common rooms, curled up on the best chair and watching the goings-on with barely-open yellow eyes. In the gardens, he naps in the flower beds and climbs into the thickest parts of low-growing trees. Here and there he can be found in boxes where he probably isn't supposed to be, seeming to look for small spaces and pressing himself into corners.]

[He also makes his best efforts to trip people, looking incredibly smug with every success.]

spam } vesper

[Don't ask how he got in here. Some things it's better not to question. But he's found Vesper's paperwork, which is suddenly the most fascinating and important thing in the world.]

[Whenever she comes back, he's rolling on his back in the middle of a mess of papers. Which are his now.]

Comments

[patheticvillain]

[His skin puffs at the tail, not from fear but from general agitation. This is interesting. How do you talk when you can't talk.]

[He arches his neck, showing his warden item. That's me.]

[fearcutsdeeperthanswords]

[She tips her head to the side, reaching for the necklace thing and running her thumb over it. It's familiar, she thinks, but she can't place it.]

Is that an Item?

[patheticvillain]

[He nods - also not even remotely a feline movement - and settles his paws against the ruff around Nymeria's neck. Of course it's an Item, Arya. He purrs quietly, pleased at being understood.]

[fearcutsdeeperthanswords]

[Well now she knows why she can't see behind his eyes, but her curiosity definitely doubles. Nymeria on the other hand, is being more patient than she ever is. That, or she barely notices Cassel's weight.

It's probably the latter.]

Hoe did you do it?

[patheticvillain]

[Well. That's not a question he can even begin to answer like this. His tail twitches irritably, and after a moment's pause he jumps off Nymeria onto the ground, leaving a decent amount of space between them.]

[He seems to stare into the middle distance; then his bones begin to twist, elongate, the fur receding and being replaced by clothes and bare skin. It's a loud, clearly painful process, but by the time he straightens up, cracking his neck, he's exactly the same as he ever was.]

That's how.

[fearcutsdeeperthanswords]

[Nymeria does not like this at all, and jerks back when he first starts to change. She keeps her distance, a rumbling growl running through her throat. Arya wraps an arm around her scruff, scratching her cheek, but she doesn't look away from Cassel. She doesn't even blink.]

It's loud. [It's fucking awesome.]

[patheticvillain]

[It kind of is fucking awesome. Cassel grins, the ripple effects of the change shifting through his body and trying to push him into painful blowback territory, though Kon's suit allays most of that. Even so, the grin is kind of a rictus. He'll be sore for a while.]

Could be louder. At least I wasn't screaming.

Hey. [He tips his chin at Nymeria.] She okay?

[fearcutsdeeperthanswords]

Does it hurt? [It must, she can see his smile, but she wonders how much it hurts, why he isn't screaming.

At the question, Arya looks down at Nymeria, who ducks away from her arm to circle Cassel. Arya watches, not particularly protective. Nymeria has her own mind, and Arya has learned that direwolves aren't tame.]

I don't think she liked your magic.

[She pauses, while Nymeria sniffs at his legs, waist. She's tall enough for it.]

Or maybe she hates cats.

[patheticvillain]

[He nods.] Yeah, it hurts. But it used to hurt worse.

[He glances at Nymeria, his head tipped to one side in an eerily inhuman gesture left over from the shape he was just inhabiting.]

Sorry. [To the direwolf, not to Arya.] About the magic, anyway. If you hate cats, I don't know what to tell you other than get better taste.

[fearcutsdeeperthanswords]

Nymeria lifts her head, looks him in the eye, and for a moment it looks like she understands, or at least like she's taking in the apology.

Then she butts her head against his shoulder, and moves on down the hall. Arya makes a face to hide a smile.]

Cats are all right. I used to feed them, some times.

[patheticvillain]

[Cassel grins, watching her go.]

I did too. When my mom was in jail. I fed cats all the time.

[fearcutsdeeperthanswords]

I sold clams by the canals. [They liked her a lot. When Nymeria disappears down the hall, Arya peers up at him again.]

Can you be any animal?

[patheticvillain]

I can be whatever I want to be.

[Which sort of makes him sad. He remembers realizing that, god, what was it, a year or more ago, and only thinking of it in terms of weaponizing himself. Even now that's most of what he considers. But on the other hand, he could just . . . have fun.]

[fearcutsdeeperthanswords]

[Arya would be the last person to understand that sadness: it's a powerful ability, and she knows exactly how she'd use it.]

Even other people?

[patheticvillain]

[He nods.]

Yeah. I did it once before. I mean, it almost got me killed, but I did it.

[fearcutsdeeperthanswords]

How come?

[patheticvillain]

Why did I do it, or why did it almost get me killed?

[fearcutsdeeperthanswords]

[She pauses for a moment, then shrugs.]

Both.

[patheticvillain]

I did it because a bunch of people kind of maneuvered me into it until I didn't have a way out. [He considers this, then amends it to:] Plus I thought it was the only way to help my mom. It might not have been, but that's what I decided on then.

And it almost got me killed because I pissed some people off beforehand, and one of them tried to use the opportunity of me not looking like me to get people who hated the other guy to kill me, meaning him.

You know. That kind of shit.

[fearcutsdeeperthanswords]

That kind of shit. [She smiles a little up at him.]

You get into strange shit.