InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "Sry, I drank all your cola."

April (i_steal_time) wrote in expresslogs,
@ 2012-03-31 21:36:00

Entry tags:

!open, {samantha parkington, {sylvia weis

With a Kitten
Characters: Sylvia, Samantha
When: Saturday night
Location: front parlor car
Warnings/Rating: None anticipated
Summary: Sylvia plays with a kitten
Status: Complete

Sylvia was glad to be moving again. She'd had more than enough of corpses, and disease, and everything else. She'd taken her kitten to the doctors, which had been interesting for both of them, but they'd said the kitten was fine as far as they could tell.

She'd also found several bags from a pet store in her room when she'd gone back, with no idea who'd actually left them there. She assumed it had to be one of the witches since they were probably the only ones who could have gone out and back fast enough, but she appreciated it all the same.

After being fed and cared for (and given a flea bath), the kitten seemed to be doing well. She was still toying with names for it, and having little luck in that area. She thought she was going to end up settling on Misty, but she really wasn't sure. Maybe she'd give it a few more days and see if anything else came to her. Or if people better with animals had some sort of suggestions.

Taking one of the toys from the bag, she trailed it along the floor. When the kitten seemed interested in it, Sylvia trailed it out the door and along the hallway until she came to the parlor car. While she wasn't very social, she knew she'd never meet new people penned up in her room -- so it seemed better to hang out in more public places. Then there was at least some sort of traffic and the possibility of someone saying hi.

Settling on a couch in the front parlor car, Sylvia continued to trail the toy around for the kitten to play with and pounce. She rested her free hand across her lap as she played with her little white kitten.

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smparkington
2012-04-01 10:16 pm UTC (link)

Samantha couldn't say she'd been all that social in the week she'd been on the train. Really, she'd just been spending most of her time hoping that she'd wake back up in the right time period and the right place, but so far it hadn't happened. When she wasn't sleeping or trying to sleep, she'd been sketching using a notebook and colored pencils she'd found in the baggage car. The pencils weren't quite up to her quality standards, but they'd have to do - she needed to do something, after all.

But today, she was tired of the four walls of her cabin. She needed a change of scenery and maybe a little more light, so after arranging her hair and making sure her dress looked as well as it could after being worn for so many consecutive days, she tucked her sketchpad under her arm and headed out in search of a quiet spot.

The front parlor car seemed fairly empty, and there was an armchair with a small coffee table available in one corner - perfect for setting herself up for an afternoon of sketching. It wasn't until she'd reached the chair and set her things down that she noticed the young woman seated on the divan, a tiny white kitten leaping over her lap. "Oh, how darling!" Samantha exclaimed, taking her seat and leaning over to get a better look at the creature. "What is his name?"

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i_steal_time
2012-04-01 10:26 pm UTC (link)

Sylvia glanced up to the person who'd taken a seat nearby, and offered a hesitant smile. She wasn't someone really prone to smiling, and she didn't think he smiles came as easily as to those more accustomed to it. But people in her world ... generally didn't show much emotion. Like it was a weakness or something. Though she guessed in her world, in her society, it sort of was.

"Her," Sylvia replied. "I haven't ... named her yet. I don't know what to name cats," she continued. "There were never pets in our house. My father thought they were a waste of time." She paused. "Money," she corrected, since that was what she'd really meant, though it was still difficult to keep the translations in mind, to differentiate between actual time and currency time.

She did make sure again that her sleeve was pulled down over the numbers on her arm. Though the few people who weren't Ray who had seen them hadn't made much of them; she guessed it was something about the nature of the train. If there was magic, a few numbers on a person's arm probably weren't that interesting.

"I'm Sylvia," she added, though there was still a hesitance there. Her father took care of introductions, and sometimes that habit still stuck. But her father wasn't here, so it was up to her to introduce herself. Though if her father was here ... he'd probably just ignore her as much as he possibly could.