worthallthis | The Last Voyages: IC Inbox

Somehow getting back on the subject of animals is better than talk of family. "And that's why you don't want the cats." Because dogs and cats. Don't get along?

"Oh, not completely! Dog was a stowaway, snuck on in port and I don't want him going anywhere I don't know will be safe for him. I might keep a cat just as, I don't know, a sort of memento, but if I keep loading up with animals there won't be any cabin left for me. They're nice, though. Very...soothing company."

Nice as it would be to maybe have a whole kennel someday, and roving cats beside, the Barge maybe isn't the wisest place.

"Memento." Why would a cat be a memento. He's going to just not comment on her cat-propoganda, there, because he knows she's trying to convince him by singing cat-praises. He's not going to be able to think about it clearly here and now, so it's safer just to ignore it.

"They were all Randel's, and he's-- well, he lived kind of like a pack of ferals for awhile, I don't know, it feels pretty emblematic. And it'd be something cuddly when he's not around here anymore."

He's pretty ideal for hugging. Napping, even. She peaked too early, she'll never have an inmate safe enough and down for greenhouse naps again.

He might not actually use the devices to communicate, but he does read it. So he at least knows who Randel is, and what happened. The cuddly bit takes him a bit by surprise, though. His brows come together a little. "Cuddly." Ugh, why is he reduced to one-word responses now. He tries again. "Your inmate is cuddly?"

Is that a... thing he should be aiming for...? He's never going to get better if that's a requirement.

"He's graduated now, but yeah!" Soft, huggable giant. She'd struck gold, really. "Tactile, had a lot of siblings growing up, sleeps with cats heaped on him pretty much."

The furrow takes a moment to diagnose, and her conclusion is reached with a laugh. "It's not a mandatory thing, I'm talking about him personally."

Well, that's good. He's pretty sure anyone trying to cuddle him would get thrown into a wall. (Which he will in fact do to poor Steve later today.)

"Okay." Pause. "Still not sure what the whole. Getting better thing is going to be." So it was as valid a guess as anything else, he figures.

"Nobody will right off the bat. I assume, anyway." His situation is...unique, it seems. "It's going to be something possible. Hard, but possible, and it's relating to you. Don't get too hung up on other graduation stories as strict guidelines, yeah?"

The bland expression shades... kind of disappointed. He doesn't do well with vague guidelines. He needs structure, even if he doesn't actually know how to acknowledge that properly. "So nobody knows what the hell I'm supposed to be doing here."

"Like I told you, they're all personal goals. Something in your past you've got to work through and be a better version of yourself. Everyone's different, there can't be any uniform rule."

Sucks, but it's the only way anything works. All she can do is shrug.

"You develop. No forcing that, you just keep active and let what happens happen."

Fuck. How can he be the better version of himself if he has no self. Christ. Murder machines don't develop, they do what they're told-- provided you follow protocol and don't get too close when gearing them up. And keep the guns ready, just in case said murder machine follows through on its constant desire to make you use them.

He doesn't sigh. Or bury his face in his knees. But he does kind of slump a little and look further away, out into all the greenery, and can't think of a damn thing to say to that.

Sounds like maybe you're onto something, stranger. Maybe quite some bedrock.

It's taxing to have no better answers to offer in good faith. It nearly hurts seeing him slump. Feebly she adds, "You're going to be okay. I promise. Types like you do well here, you'll get out safe and better for it."

What does "okay" even look like? Or "safe"? He's got no idea. He finally unwinds to pick himself up. There's nowhere else for this conversation to go, right now. What he does offer is to reiterate, "I'll think about the cat thing."

The Last Voyages: IC Inbox

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