Sharon and Jess, morning
Oct. 25th, 2023 08:48 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsJess meets someone new in the kitchen. Except she's not new, she's just in a new body, and up to old tricks (eating garbage).
God, Jessica hated waking up. Not only was it sunny and hot - it was October, climate change was real - but she was mildly hungover and had not remembered to restock the supply of semi-stolen coffee in her suite's kitchenette, which meant she had to venture out to the real kitchen.
Raking a hand through her hair in a futile attempt to get it out of her face, Jess squinted at the empty coffee maker, before her uncaffeinated brain caught up to the time blinking on it and realized most people would have already had coffee. Sighing, she opened a few cupboards before finding the overly-bougie ground coffee they stocked here. She dumped some into the reusable filter, clattered her way through filling the machine with water, and stabbed the 'on' button with real desperation.
Then, she settled against the counter to wait.
"You smell of alcohol still."
Despite the frankly confrontational phrasing, the words had been said without judgment or rancor. They had come from a young woman, heretofore unnoticed by Jessica's hungover eyes, who was seated at the kitchen table. She'd clearly just finished some manner of repast; the plate in front of her was empty, and the girl was in the process of licking her fingers.
Jessica didn't jump, exactly, but she certaintly started a little bit; irritably, she realized she had gone through her entire coffee preparation without noticing that someone else was in the kitchen. This was why she lived alone. "Go smell someone else," she snapped at the - who was that, anyway? How many purple kids could there be in one school? And was that the sweater she had seriously considered burning?
"I smell who I please," said the girl, who was indeed wearing the fuzzy peach sweater in question. She gave her hand a final swipe of her tongue and fixed Jessica with slitted yellow eyes. "Was not a value judgement. Next time brush teeth, maybe."
Jess scrubbed a hand over her face, praying to the coffee gods to hurry the machine up. "I just woke up," she said. "There was no coffee." This was, to her, the best explanation for a mutant-group-living social solecism like not brushing one's teeth.
"Was only a suggestion." The girl rose from her seat -- and continued to rise a further three inches about Jessica's head. Collecting her plate, she picked her way to the kitchen sink and paused. She sniffed again.
Irritably, Jessica said, "I said, go smell someone else."
"You are not that interesting." The girl put her plate on the counter and strode purposefully for the trashcan. The lid flipped up with a press of her foot. She leaned forward to inspect its contents with a critical eye, purple hair fanning around her face.
Mouth open to retort, Jessica paused to watch this in horror - a strangely familiar horror.
The girl dipped her hand into the garbage can and emerged with the neatly-wrapped remains of a meatball sub. Someone had clearly placed an order they hadn't cared to finish. The girl clicked her tongue.
"Always there is waste here," she said as she peeled back the waxed paper. She flourished the half-a-sub at Jessica. "See? It is fresh."
"Oh my god, do not tell me you're going to fucking eat that," Jessica said, vaguely nauseous. "That's disgusting. God knows how long it's been in there or with what."
The girl scoffed. "Only today. Was on top."
And then, her eyes never leaving Jessica's, th girl took a bite.
"Jesus Christ," Jessica said, putting a hand over her face so she didn't have to actually watch someone eat literal trash. "You, the cat, Match - what the fuck is wrong with the kids here?"
Somewhere around the vicinity of the girl's knees a long purple tail flicked.
"To whom do you think you are speaking, Jessica-who-is-new-here?"
The movement of the tail caught Jessica's eye, finally, as she brought her hand down. "You're the fucking cat," she said flatly, refusing to be even slightly embarrassed that she had not caught onto this earlier. She wasn't working, she hadn't even had coffee yet.
"Is your detective skills, of course." The last of the sub disappeared behind slightly elongated canines. Sharon licked her lips contentedly and dropped the wrapper back into the trashcan. "Do not see why you made such a fuss about these clothes. Clothing is tyranny, but sweater is at least comfortable tyranny. Appropriately fuzzy."
"I don't wear pink, and I don't wear clothes someone bought just because they get off on it," Jessica said, glancing longingly at the barely-quarter-done coffeemaker. "And for the record, that is even more disgusting when you're a human."
"It is pink? I do not see this color. Does not matter. Really would prefer to wear nothing, but am told clothing is mandatory." Sharon stretched her arms over her head, emphasizing her greater height in a classic display of dominance. "Besides, I am always cat."
Jessica snorted, unintimidated by a dominance display that she honestly didn't notice. "No kidding." At least she hadn't been treated to seeing a naked Sharon eating out of the garbage. "It is pink. And provided by an asshole. That's why I tried to get rid of it in the first place."
Sharon gazed at her. Her wide-set yellow eyes gave her plain, angular face an alien cast. "Is silly not to take things that are given. Learned this on street. World is not so generous that gifts should be thrown away so easily. Unless it is pride?"
Jessica met her gaze. "Some gifts come with strings. And some of those strings, you won't want to deal with." For example, Warren thinking she was going to talk to him - the most benign case. "The fucking garbage does have that going for it," she added dryly.
Sharon flicked her tail dismissively. "Strings exist due to unspoken social contract. If you did not ask, is not your responsibility to meet expectations of others. Were I expected to do something I did not wish for favor I did not request," she said, matter-of-factly, "I would simply not."
There was a surprise. Jess rolled her eyes. "Works until it doesn't," was all she said - because Works until you meet someone with more coercive strength than you was too dark for a kid, and Works until you meet someone who does not go away when you tell them to go away felt like an opening for Sharon to judge her through. She hadn't even had coffee yet, though the pot was finally filling. She didn't need cat grief today.
The girl made a little chuff sound that would have been more suited coming from a much more feline throat. "Only if you lack imagination," Sharon remarked. She yawned hugely, declaring her interest in the conversation had ended. "Shall leave you to your coffee and unreasonable rejection of free gifts and services. But shall be watching. Yes."
"Please don't," Jessica said plaintively.
The girl gave her a small wave as she turned to leave. "But it entertains me," she said, then turned to regard Jessica through half-lidded eyes. "And now there are so many shapes from which I may watch."
Jessica blinked as Sharon turned to leave again, processing this. "Wait," she said, pained. "More than two?"
Sharon smiled serenely.
"Is for me to know," she said, "and you to find out."
God, Jessica hated waking up. Not only was it sunny and hot - it was October, climate change was real - but she was mildly hungover and had not remembered to restock the supply of semi-stolen coffee in her suite's kitchenette, which meant she had to venture out to the real kitchen.
Raking a hand through her hair in a futile attempt to get it out of her face, Jess squinted at the empty coffee maker, before her uncaffeinated brain caught up to the time blinking on it and realized most people would have already had coffee. Sighing, she opened a few cupboards before finding the overly-bougie ground coffee they stocked here. She dumped some into the reusable filter, clattered her way through filling the machine with water, and stabbed the 'on' button with real desperation.
Then, she settled against the counter to wait.
"You smell of alcohol still."
Despite the frankly confrontational phrasing, the words had been said without judgment or rancor. They had come from a young woman, heretofore unnoticed by Jessica's hungover eyes, who was seated at the kitchen table. She'd clearly just finished some manner of repast; the plate in front of her was empty, and the girl was in the process of licking her fingers.
Jessica didn't jump, exactly, but she certaintly started a little bit; irritably, she realized she had gone through her entire coffee preparation without noticing that someone else was in the kitchen. This was why she lived alone. "Go smell someone else," she snapped at the - who was that, anyway? How many purple kids could there be in one school? And was that the sweater she had seriously considered burning?
"I smell who I please," said the girl, who was indeed wearing the fuzzy peach sweater in question. She gave her hand a final swipe of her tongue and fixed Jessica with slitted yellow eyes. "Was not a value judgement. Next time brush teeth, maybe."
Jess scrubbed a hand over her face, praying to the coffee gods to hurry the machine up. "I just woke up," she said. "There was no coffee." This was, to her, the best explanation for a mutant-group-living social solecism like not brushing one's teeth.
"Was only a suggestion." The girl rose from her seat -- and continued to rise a further three inches about Jessica's head. Collecting her plate, she picked her way to the kitchen sink and paused. She sniffed again.
Irritably, Jessica said, "I said, go smell someone else."
"You are not that interesting." The girl put her plate on the counter and strode purposefully for the trashcan. The lid flipped up with a press of her foot. She leaned forward to inspect its contents with a critical eye, purple hair fanning around her face.
Mouth open to retort, Jessica paused to watch this in horror - a strangely familiar horror.
The girl dipped her hand into the garbage can and emerged with the neatly-wrapped remains of a meatball sub. Someone had clearly placed an order they hadn't cared to finish. The girl clicked her tongue.
"Always there is waste here," she said as she peeled back the waxed paper. She flourished the half-a-sub at Jessica. "See? It is fresh."
"Oh my god, do not tell me you're going to fucking eat that," Jessica said, vaguely nauseous. "That's disgusting. God knows how long it's been in there or with what."
The girl scoffed. "Only today. Was on top."
And then, her eyes never leaving Jessica's, th girl took a bite.
"Jesus Christ," Jessica said, putting a hand over her face so she didn't have to actually watch someone eat literal trash. "You, the cat, Match - what the fuck is wrong with the kids here?"
Somewhere around the vicinity of the girl's knees a long purple tail flicked.
"To whom do you think you are speaking, Jessica-who-is-new-here?"
The movement of the tail caught Jessica's eye, finally, as she brought her hand down. "You're the fucking cat," she said flatly, refusing to be even slightly embarrassed that she had not caught onto this earlier. She wasn't working, she hadn't even had coffee yet.
"Is your detective skills, of course." The last of the sub disappeared behind slightly elongated canines. Sharon licked her lips contentedly and dropped the wrapper back into the trashcan. "Do not see why you made such a fuss about these clothes. Clothing is tyranny, but sweater is at least comfortable tyranny. Appropriately fuzzy."
"I don't wear pink, and I don't wear clothes someone bought just because they get off on it," Jessica said, glancing longingly at the barely-quarter-done coffeemaker. "And for the record, that is even more disgusting when you're a human."
"It is pink? I do not see this color. Does not matter. Really would prefer to wear nothing, but am told clothing is mandatory." Sharon stretched her arms over her head, emphasizing her greater height in a classic display of dominance. "Besides, I am always cat."
Jessica snorted, unintimidated by a dominance display that she honestly didn't notice. "No kidding." At least she hadn't been treated to seeing a naked Sharon eating out of the garbage. "It is pink. And provided by an asshole. That's why I tried to get rid of it in the first place."
Sharon gazed at her. Her wide-set yellow eyes gave her plain, angular face an alien cast. "Is silly not to take things that are given. Learned this on street. World is not so generous that gifts should be thrown away so easily. Unless it is pride?"
Jessica met her gaze. "Some gifts come with strings. And some of those strings, you won't want to deal with." For example, Warren thinking she was going to talk to him - the most benign case. "The fucking garbage does have that going for it," she added dryly.
Sharon flicked her tail dismissively. "Strings exist due to unspoken social contract. If you did not ask, is not your responsibility to meet expectations of others. Were I expected to do something I did not wish for favor I did not request," she said, matter-of-factly, "I would simply not."
There was a surprise. Jess rolled her eyes. "Works until it doesn't," was all she said - because Works until you meet someone with more coercive strength than you was too dark for a kid, and Works until you meet someone who does not go away when you tell them to go away felt like an opening for Sharon to judge her through. She hadn't even had coffee yet, though the pot was finally filling. She didn't need cat grief today.
The girl made a little chuff sound that would have been more suited coming from a much more feline throat. "Only if you lack imagination," Sharon remarked. She yawned hugely, declaring her interest in the conversation had ended. "Shall leave you to your coffee and unreasonable rejection of free gifts and services. But shall be watching. Yes."
"Please don't," Jessica said plaintively.
The girl gave her a small wave as she turned to leave. "But it entertains me," she said, then turned to regard Jessica through half-lidded eyes. "And now there are so many shapes from which I may watch."
Jessica blinked as Sharon turned to leave again, processing this. "Wait," she said, pained. "More than two?"
Sharon smiled serenely.
"Is for me to know," she said, "and you to find out."
