[Cat was
dressed in a ridiculously expensive robe and
not feeling like a million bucks. Which, for the record, she thought was entirely unfair, since she was most certainly in possession of a million bucks. In fact, she was in possession of multiple million bucks, and she was fairly positive the universe had not received the memo.
So, memo diverted somehow, the kitten was seated on the edge of her bed, and that required some tantamount energy to manage. Now, she understood that she'd undergone surgery at the hands of a veterinarian, and that, perhaps, some added pain was to be expected due to the circumstances, but this was unacceptable. Cat hadn't healed this slowly since the serum, and it was strange to feel like she wasn't entirely invincible anymore.
But, well, the Second City
incident had left her certain of one thing: She was
done trying to be someone she wasn't anymore. Enough trying to be old, advice-giver Cat. That woman had grown sad and sadder, and what had it gotten her?
Nothing. No, Cat was going to leave that failed model behind, and she knew it wasn't going to be a popular choice, but enough was enough So, hello slinky black, and hello diamonds and pearls, and hello living the hedonistic little life she craved. Once, you know, she could actually walk across the room again without reaching for a wall.]