realityshifted | 001 - Cy for Sign Me Up

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the wild road (d1) cy/cypher

001 - Cy for Sign Me Up

[A long-haired gray tabby appears on the plane. At first glance, she looks like a kitten; she’s stubby and clumsy and small. Closer inspection, however, reveals her to be an adult cat who is stubby and clumsy and small. The tabby markings swoop down her sides like gray and black flames. She has four white socks and a white spot on her chin, a pink nose and intense yellow eyes.

And, mostly hidden by her long fur, something metal glints at the crown of her head.

She doesn’t seem to notice the change in venue; she’s busy with a Very Important Task. That is, stripping to pieces and eating a ball of what appears to be tin foil and duct tape, smeared with gasoline and engine grease.]

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['only friend' and clowns, THIS IS FREAKINESS. Cue louder hospital noises!] I - I don't only have one friend.

[Turns her back on him, and starts fiddling with her nearly-forgotten meal.] Righto, boss, and the phones don't speak when they're unplugged, neither.

How do you know about that? How do you know about the test card girl?

Same way I know what she means to you, that Maya Angelou.

Maya? What do you know about - Oh god. [sits down on the floor, almost child-like, and puts his head in his hands, taking deeeeeep, caaaaaaaaaalming breaths, focusing on the sound of it]

[Humph. Offended kitties have NO SYMPATHY.] Don't try dancing before you know the steps, Sherlock. You'll step on someone's toes.

["We're sorry, Sam can't reach the telephone right now. He's probably talking to his television or getting thrown about by his DCI. Please leave a message at the sound of the car crash."]

[Dislikes being ignored. In a startlingly accurate imitation of Gene Hunt, she says,] OI! Gladys-Nancy-Poofter, the rainbow's thattaway.

[so accurate, that Sam thinks it is Gene] Bugger off, Hunt. I'll do your bloody paperwork when I don't have a splitting headache. I'm sure you can find someone to bosh while you wait.

[Cy has learned a new word. She rears back on her hind paws, and, still using her Gene-voice, attacks Sam's knee.]

BOSH!

[blinks, looks up at the cat, and goes to pick her up and set her in his lap] Right, cat mimicking Gene Hunt. Wait 'till I tell him. I give up on sanity entirely. This is me, Detective Inspector Sam Tyler, renouncing sanity once and for all. You're very cute when you say 'bosh,' kitty. [pets her, in the Zen-like state of Surrender To Madness]

[Sleepy, happy face.] The padded rooms have a nice view of the stuffing, Nancy.

[scratches under kitten's neck] I don't like padded rooms. You can't feel alive there, can you?

[Leeeeans on his fingers.] Better than the hard, cold place, Mrs. Nancy Sherlock.

[amused] I'm not married.

Married is as married does. Why's your shadow wobbly?

I don't act married either. What shadow are you talking about?

[Kitty contemplation.] You're center-struck, Sherlock, the fissures have their fingers all the way into the core. You'd best get that looked at, f'you don't want the dark to get in.

[She shoves her face against his hand, sniffs, and sneezes.] You smell like stars and star-chasers.

I get the feeling that a lot of what you're saying is very important, and I just can't make any sense out of it.

Sense, scents, cent, the meaning came and went. [Rubs herself against his hand.]

[obligingly pets Cy] Where'd it go?

[Surprised.] I dunno, Nancylocks. It's your frequency.

Is it? What channel?

[Sits down, thinking hard. Her puzzlement shows on her face.] I dunno. There's nine-hundred to choose from.

[absently] I miss satellite.

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cyfor.livejournal.com - 2008-04-24 01:37 (UTC) - Expand

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