Re: [Jester's Court: Cat & Jack]
Cat was a mess, and this was the final verdict. But, well, realizing and admitting it? Maybe it was a step forward, and it was true that he said more about things now than before. Oh, he still had the desire to keep his injured paws tucked close to protect his own belly, but he fought against those desires now, and who the fuck knew why? Was it gender, genetics, something left in this brain that he'd been downloaded into? Who knew, and maybe it was just the dissonance of it all. Cat felt like before, and Cat felt nothing at all like before, and both things twirled and twined in an inexorable way.
But, whatever, right, everyone, and Cat rolled his eyes and reached over and reclaimed the modbox for just long enough to give a lesson - push the button, hold it, inhale, let go of the button and exhale. The smoke plume was divinity, and it made Cat feel accomplished in a simple way that accounted for absolutely nothing at all. But, again, whatever, and the sentiment was new and adored and Cat was fully intending to keep it. "Everyone can't piss off. Everyone has stuff, and stuff has to be dealt with. We roll from one bad moment to the next, and I'm starting to wonder how the fuck we don't all go insane." It'd been a long fucking life, and that was what it came down to. "I think kids are supposed to have calm lives until a certain point for a reason, because if not it all seems to go the fuck on forever." Which, there you go, old and jaded. Blink and it was gone, and the lanky and difficult youth was back, reclaiming the modbox and tucking it into the pocket of his jeans.
With long-limbed gait, Cat got into the line for the funhouse. It was a looming old place, a thing made to hunker and feeling permanent. There was a big clown mouth to walk into, and it seemed to be about two stories, and Cat's grin was a smirky thing tugging up the side of his mouth. "I have a friend who loves clowns. Have you ever known someone who loved an asshole, Jack? And who kept going back and back and back, and no matter what? Obsession, it's a bitch," he concluded, taking a step forward in the line on those lanky limbs. His hands were tucked back into the front pockets of his jeans now. "We're all shits, and we're all oblivious, so what can you do? There's no hope for any of us changing, and you either accept us how we are? Or you fuck off." Another step forward. "That's the everyone - you... not you-you."