Continuing Distractions

[bashfulshifter]

Characters: Patrick Dawn and YOU
Setting: Dorm Floor One and the Cafeteria on July 16th (day after hacking plot consequences)
Format: Prose to start, can match as always!
Summary: People need to CHILL. Rick makes comfort food for this purpose (also, obligatory morning cat patrol).
Warnings: Rick is still terrified of talking to new people and will stutter A LOT. The horror!

Dorm Floor One: as promised, Obligatory Morning Cat Patrol



Rick wasn't sure what caused the commotion outside his room in the early hours of the morning, but whatever it was, he deduced it wasn't pleasant. Recent posts on the network, combined with the collar boycott going into full swing, had made him reasonably nervous for the tower's well-being the past few days, and now it seemed things were about to get much worse.

He didn't have the stomach to step outside while it was still dark. Sometimes he could hear, in the halls, the scraping of talons, the whisper of feet, the soft voices of the creatures as they stalked their sleeping prey just out of reach, leaving only their vile scents behind. They, more than anything else in the tower he'd encountered so far, scared him senseless. He was far from prepared to run into one anytime soon.

Still, Rick could not sleep. He lay motionless on his back for several hours until the first rays of artificial daylight flickered in from under the door; then he slipped silently from his corner, careful not to disturb his (probably) slumbering roommates, crept into the empty hallway and took on his typical orange tabby form. Both Rusty and Rick had settled comfortably into this morning routine of territory patrol. Now it provided them with much-needed stability and an excellent couple hours of quiet contemplation before the crowd awoke.

That is, if the crowd wasn't as restless as they were.

Floor One (Cafeteria): Soul Food

After much thought over precisely what was bothering him and what could be done for the rest of the tower, Rick remembered what he'd heard about the recent actions of a strange French man and decided that he had a passable way of bringing something from home that could also ease the nerves of his fellow captives.

Granted, his level of culinary expertise was not on par with some other members of the tower (see the aforementioned breakfast), but nothing calmed Rick's mind more than a routine, and nothing calmed his wife's mind more than a good meal. They had long since synthesized this process through daily themed dishes, either for lunch or dinner, most of which Rick cooked himself because he liked memorizing the different recipes and seeing if he could reproduce them exactly. Since this had been the pattern for nearly five years, he'd become rather good at it.

As he recalled, Tuesdays were pasta days, which left a lot of room open for seasoning and the like so long as the noodles were established. Based on the resources available for the lunch menu--despite it being more a dinner dish--he decided on a hearty meat lasagna. They were slotted to have spaghetti later, but Rick preferred to think of that meal as a source of much-needed ricotta cheese rather than a redundancy. Plus, if people liked it, he could just keep cooking more through dinner.

He arrived in the cafeteria kitchen at the closing of breakfast and did not eat. About two hours later, the first massive batch of lasagna found its way in front of the rows of bland hotdogs and hockey-puck hamburgers and the second batch was already in the oven, giving Rick some time to sit back behind the counter and breathe (and gently dissuade any cafeteria drones from disturbing the oven while he waited).

Is the lasagna messy? Yes.

Is it full of meat and grease? Yes.

Is it delicious? MOST CERTAINLY

Comments

[nobarnacles]

With everything else that's been going on, Zel all but forgot about the weird shapeshifting cat dude thing he met when he first showed up. He hadn't been in his room much at all, only returning periodically to sleep (and even then, it was sporadic and unpredictable). So, this morning, he was on the way back to his room to catch a quick nap after spending all night doing who knows what.

Of course, the moment he sees that orange tail swishing at the other end of the hallway, he pauses, narrowing his eyes.

"Hey, you. Cat-man."

There's no hostility in his voice, since he's too tired to be properly angry, but this is about as close to a polite greeting as Zel can give.

[bashfulshifter]

The cat-man in question froze at the sound of Zel's voice--despite having only met him once, the experience was traumatic enough that such details remained crystal-clear in his mind and nagged him constantly at these odd hours. He had been starting to wonder if that volatile alien man lived on this floor or had merely wandered up in a post-abduction haze, but the frequency at which he ran into the familiar scent on his morning walks (however briefly Zel actually appeared on the hall) indicated otherwise.

Predictably, Rick had been actively avoiding that scent trail for the past week now. Did he expect this trend to continue without incident? No, but it was worth a shot.

Of course, that ruse wasn't going to work anymore. The cat exhaled deeply, deflating like a spent balloon, and then promptly shifted into a slouching human--still in his pajamas, because he hadn't bothered to change.

Rick required a moment of mental preparation before he could speak. When he did, the words spilled out of his mouth, over-loud and frantic.

"I-I-I'm so sorry. Really, really sorry. You were just running down the hall, and I wasn't sure what was happening, and then it escalated very quickly and I panicked and..."

[nobarnacles]

"What are you...oh. I guess I got a little carried away." It took Zel a moment to even realize what the pajama-clad man was even babbling about, since by now he's basically over that event. He smirks despite himself, allowing a little enjoyment at his ability to strike fear into the heart of another person. "Don't be so scared; if I wanted to kill you, you'd be dead by now."

He figures if he's going to run into the nervous shapeshifter every now and then, it would probably benefit him if there wasn't panic and disorder at every encounter. Of course, the statement was practically a threat on its own, but no one ever claimed Zel was good at making friends.

[bashfulshifter]

If Rick would catch anything from that statement, it would be the thinly-veiled threat--and so he did. He nodded and chuckled nervously through a smile that said, quite clearly, that he was in no way comfortable enough with this situation to be laughing, let alone close the safe distance between himself and the terrifying man down the hall.

His giggling trailed off into awkward silence.

"...Um..."

What are you doing you idiot get away while you still have the chance!

"...Y-Y-You were...um...g-g-g-going to ask, er, ask me s-s-something?" Before he ran away, he meant. Best tie up all loose ends while he was feeling adventurous.

[nobarnacles]

"I was just greeting you, since you were passing by."

Zel almost rolls his eyes at the stuttering, but he figures the guy would either get over it or break his teeth trying. He folds his arms and leans a shoulder against the door to his room, all super-casual-cool-guy-like.

"But I was wondering about your shapeshifting. How does it work? Are you human?"

It's a personal interest, okay.

[bashfulshifter]

Oh well he meant...before he ran off...ah, whatever the case. Based on Zel's nonchalant reaction to him earlier, Rick was wondering if he even remembered much of their first encounter at all.

No use worrying about that now, though. Zel's overconfident, impatient demeanor still made him uneasy, but he'd been asked a question, and it would simply be rude not to answer after going out of his way to make amends. Although...it was about his abilities. Straight off, even. That forwardness was even more unsettling than the atmosphere, and it took Rick several moments of pensive staring at the back wall to convince himself that he was in no position to judge.

"...It's...k-kind of hard to e-explain," he murmured at the floor, giving the back of his head a thorough scratch with one hand while vaguely gesturing with the other. "I, um...I f-f-f-found cr-creatures that were...d-dying, I guess, and...ah...con-convinced them to, um..."

Rick trailed off, gesturing more violently at his forehead. Mind, mental...he's got cats in his brain? Something? The explanation escaped him, so he abandoned it with a huff.

"So um...I just kind, kind of...call o-on them, and...then I am th-them."

Flawless!

[nobarnacles]

"So it's partially summoning of the dead, partially body transformation." The look on Zel's face is as if he's focused on dissecting a small animal that might contain some secret of the universe, trying to figure out how this ability fits into his own understanding of the world---and if he can make any use of that information.

The man certainly looks normal enough to him, and it's a little surprising that someone who can barely seem to hold himself together has enough control over some force that can perform such a large transformation.

"In my world, this is something that only highly powerful demons, or perhaps incredibly unlucky cursed individuals would be able to manage. Human transformation takes a lot of magic, but you seem to do it on a whim. We're you born like this?"

Sorry, buddy; so long as you keep answering, he's going to keep asking.

[bashfulshifter]

Rick quietly pondered if he was lucky or not to have the same knowledge of the Elements that some of his friends back home had. On one hand, he always wondered what made his abilities work, but no matter how many times the specifics were explained to him he could never quite parse the details--so his explanations suffered more than they already would have. On the other hand, should someone be tempted to use his abilities against him, they'd have to figure out the little things on their own. Small victories.

As to be expected, Zel's simple question received a simple, if still extremely anxious, answer. Staring at the ground, Rick shrugged and silently shook his head.

[nobarnacles]

"No? So this is an acquired skill."

Tired as he is, Zel will always perk up when the beginnings of ideas start to sprout. His eyes are lighting up with careful curiosity, but the thoughts are gathering momentum.

"Could you...show another how to do this? I have a particular need for ways to perform body transformations."

Because with everyone else that's going on in the tower, Zel is still going to prioritize finding a way to turn his body back to normal.

[bashfulshifter]

Another swing and a miss, thanks to Rick's crippling inability to accurately express his ideas under pressure! He frowned and continued to shake his head, becoming increasingly embarrassed and frustrated with himself, and mimed for a few seconds to express the fact that he had more to add when he could speak again.

Once he could: "...S-S-Sorry...I m-m-meant, I...c-c-c-couldn't always d-do this. It w-wasn't s-s-something I...I'm um..."

Rick squeezed his eyes shut and looked like he was about to throw a fit. The phrase he wanted was "genetically predisposed," but that was a lot of syllables to wrangle while so nervous, and finding a different way around was proving to be annoyingly difficult.

"...Y-Y-You h-have to...h-have the r-right g-g-genes f-for it--a-a-and then m-manifest."

[nobarnacles]

Sigh. Another dead end. That's okay, he's used to this. He gives Rick a little shrug once the words more or less found their way out, as if dismissing the notion entirely. "Too bad, then. If I can't learn it, I'm not really interested."

At least for Rick's sake, it's not more shouting and chasing. He opens the door to his room, pausing for a moment before he steps inside.

"I'm Zelgadis. Have a good night."

[bashfulshifter]

Rick remained frozen at the end of the hall as Zel retreated into his room. Various interruptions and parting remarks ran through his mind--introductions, for one, seemed important, as did a proper apology for not being more helpful, or maybe even asking why shapeshifting was so helpful and see if there was a different way around it.

Instead he called quietly, "B-But...it's morning..."

Rick deflated with a sigh, silently kicking himself, and shifted back into a cat to continue his rounds.