07-14-2018, 04:24 PM
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She found herself unsure about how to deal with this crewmate that wanted to talk with telepathy - as casually as to inject her thoughts into complete strangers' heads. Given the lack of reaction from the other crewmates, she started to realize that her stance on magic might not fit the status quo; it seemed a lot of her assumptions she took for granted in her family's coven no longer applied. This agitated her, given just how differently people behaved that she supposed they thought; as though they held no respect for the magic that powered them. But, as she thought with a slight frown, she supposed that these less mystical people likely never bothered to stop and think about how they ought to feel around magic, specifically people using magic on them. She doubted any more than a handful of people in the group even possessed the ability to use telepathy; so, then, she supposed her outright assumption that everyone held a deep understanding of the power and how to treat it made less sense than their naive behavior.
Still, she needed to get a handle on this; time to find Solveig, no matter how much she disliked socializing. With a flick of her forked tail, she changed her direction and followed the closest scent trail to take her to the other woman. Far too quickly, she found the domestic feline in question - who seemed fixated on a plant. Aloe? Yes, that looked like aloe to her.
"Looking to treat a burn?" she asked, walking over to stand in front of the snowshoe. The ocelot, naturally, remembered Goldie's burns - which Rosemary treated with fishskin bandages, though for the life of her she struggled to get the child to stay at home and rest in bed for even a few hours. Still, she didn't think this was for Goldie - her niece certainly would have come to tell her if anything changed with her wounds. Perhaps someone else stupidly got smacked by lightning? Or, it couldn't have even been an injury - too many possibilities, and too much curiosity in her head.
Still, she needed to get a handle on this; time to find Solveig, no matter how much she disliked socializing. With a flick of her forked tail, she changed her direction and followed the closest scent trail to take her to the other woman. Far too quickly, she found the domestic feline in question - who seemed fixated on a plant. Aloe? Yes, that looked like aloe to her.
"Looking to treat a burn?" she asked, walking over to stand in front of the snowshoe. The ocelot, naturally, remembered Goldie's burns - which Rosemary treated with fishskin bandages, though for the life of her she struggled to get the child to stay at home and rest in bed for even a few hours. Still, she didn't think this was for Goldie - her niece certainly would have come to tell her if anything changed with her wounds. Perhaps someone else stupidly got smacked by lightning? Or, it couldn't have even been an injury - too many possibilities, and too much curiosity in her head.
I FEEL SO HUNGRY —
— Dear diary, I don't know what's going on, but something's up / The dog won't stop barking, and I think my TV is bust / Every channel is the same, it's sending me insane / And earlier somebody bit me, what a fucking day / The sky is falling / It's fucking boring / I'm going braindead, isolated / God is a shithead / And we're his rejects / Traumatized for breakfast / I can't stomach any more survival horror / Dear diary, I feel itchy like there's bugs under my skin / The dog's gone rabid (shut the fuck up) / Doing my head in —— WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING?