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thejusticelounge2015-01-01 06:14 pm
bossymarmalade) wrote in thejusticelounge2015-01-01 06:14 pm
Entry tags:
nuclear life
[Ring Txt] ~on the 6th day of Christmas my true love gave to meeee~
[Ring Txt] a cat
[Ring Txt] I'm bringing a magical cat home
[Ring Txt] think Luna from Sailor Moon except without the talking but a lot of the staring
[TXT] that’s not how that song goes at all omg what caroling books have you been reading?
[TXT] wait
[TXT] seriously? Is it cute?
[TXT] Can it turn me into a magical girl????????????
[Ring Txt] you’re already a magical girl, what. I’ve seen your whirlwind change sequence when you’re late for an appointment, all it needs is some starbolt sound effects and a stirring soundtrack
[Ring Txt] she’s pretty cute. I named her Miss Meow
[Ring Txt] I’ll be home soon, Mar’i. MAR’I.
[Ring Txt] I think it’s gonna be a popcorn and tequila and Adventure Time night for us, chica. if you’re up for it.
[TXT] miss meow awwwwwwwww
[TXT] sho sho!
[TXT] I’ll prep the limes and salt
Kyle returns home, the cat curled around his shoulders, and Kyle clutching a paper bag with a bottle of cheap tequila in it. He makes as much dramatic noise as possible getting his coat and scarf and shoes off, obviously so that Mar’i can hear him. When he greets her in the kitchen, he pushes his face into the back of her shoulder, leaning his weight into her. Miss Meow gives a small yowl and sleekly leaps to the floor, but doesn’t stray far. She returns and twines around the warmth of Mar’i’s ankles.
"Errrummmmpf. Whatta day." Kyle says into Mar’i’s shoulder. He pulls back, grabbing a couple shot glasses. He glances over at Mar’i as he unwraps the tequila. "Tell me, Mar’i - what was it like for you with your parents. I remember how close you were to your father…what about your mam?"
Mar’i blinks and looks down at the cat twining itself around her ankles. Her face breaks out in a huge grin, the squinty-goofy type brought on cute babies and small animals. ”Ohmigoshhhhh,” she squeals, not noticing the weight of Kyle’s head as she makes grabby hands at the cat. ”So cuteeeee!”
She only notices Kyle was there when he lifts away to seek out the glasses and tequila, and raises an eyebrow at what he says next. ”Well, this is kind of random…” she murmurs, scooting up a barstool next to the kitchen island and planting herself firmly on it. ”Let’s see. My mom left the planet when I was…13? I saw her a lot when I trained on Okaara, but once I was back on Earth, it was mostly video and hologram calls. I mean, besides the angsty teenager shit I pulled with being angry with her for leaving, we had a good relationship. When she would come to visit, or bring me over to the Tamaranean Outpost to see her and Uncle Ryand’r, she’d always try to load me down with Tamaran as much as she could. We’d have gigantic feasts and she’d tell me every story she could remember from when she was a kid…”
Mar’i pauses to salt her hand methodically. ”Is that what you meant? Like, that kind of stuff?”
Kyle gets the popcorn machine going (he considers himself the master of the air popper) while Miss Meow leaps up and makes herself comfortable on Mar’i’s lap, while still watching Kyle.
"Yeah that kinda stuff exactly yeah, but—wait. Wait." Kyle turns to look at Mar’i in surprise. He’s diverting completely from the original topic, but Kyle’s used to this. He can’t help having extremely compelling friends, after all. And right now his mind is just full of one burgeoning question. "You trained on Okaara??! I’m - I mean. If Okaara in your dimension is the same as Okaara in this dimension…yeesh.”
Kyle microwaves a generous amount of butter and coconut oil for the popcorn, as the machine dutifully creates egregious amounts of the snack. He doesn’t feel ‘yeesh’ covers his exclamatory feelings, so he adds on a “Yowza.”
Mar’i takes a quick shot of tequila with lime and salt before she makes a little excited noise, hunching her shoulders around Miss Meow as she experiments with various petting motions on different spots. ”Yeah,” she nods, “have I never told you that? I had like—” Mar’i makes a goose-egg with her fingers, and whistles. ”—no control over my powers, so my parents sent me to get a little training. Go figure that was one of the few things they could agree upon.”
Miss Meow preens her butt up when Mar’i pats near there, so she begins a steady little drumbeat against the cat’s tail, raising an eyebrow at Kyle. ”Soooo back to topic? What’s up?”
Kyle brings over the popcorn, setting it down as he picks up a lime promptly, motioning with two fingers for Mar’i to pour him a shot. He settles on a bar stool of his own and holds the shot glass in his hand, face still lit up with burning curiosity.
"So your powers were like…like puberty for you? That’s so X-Men…." Kyle marvels (no pun intended). "But what was it like? You know what Okaara’s like here, it’s, well. It’s pretty harsh. Really hardcore, like. It’s not a nice place. I mean I’m sure your parents knew what they were doing, but. Sending a teenager there all by herself is just….wow."
Miss Meow makes a whirring noise, first low, then high, then she turns in a full circle and settles again on Mar’i, keeping her butt lifted slightly for continuous scratches. Kyle watches her getting comfortable, feeling strangely pleased with the beast and how well it’s getting along with Mar’i. He points at the cat.
"The cat isn’t so much a gift from Zee. It’s a gift from her mother. The estranged mother who supposedly abandoned Zee and Mr Zatara decades ago." Kyle shakes his head, drawing in a breath. "Zee’s going through some rough stuff right now." He throws the shot back, chasing it with the lime in satisfaction.
"Well, Okaara’s a training ground for Vega royalty," Mar’i shrugs, "—at least, first and foremost. But yeah, it’s kind of terrifying. It really has that whole everything-here-will-kill-you feng shui going on, you know? But my mom and aunt trained there, and it helped my mom control her powers later on after the…" Mar’i takes another shot. "…experiments and enslavement."
She freezes mid-butt scratch at the magical cat, suddenly regarding it with a distrusting expression. ”Are you really evil?” she asks, squinting. ”Because I can’t give butt scratches to evil cats.”
Mar’i looks up at Kyle, then back down at the cat. ”Jeez-us,” she breathes, then resumes patting the cat, although with a noticeable decrease in enthusiasm. ”Is she evil? X’Hal, what kind of lives are we living that I can automatically back that question up with a list of evil moms I personally know?”
Kyle eats some popcorn - or more like, smashes heaps of popcorn into his face - as he listens to Mar’i. He frowns in confusion and holds up his clean hand, then motions for her to pour again. ”Well, I mean. Okay. I’m not one to assume anything about other-dimensional worlds and family arrangements or anything but it seems like you’re saying it was…no big deal? Like, at all? It was just some place you went to with like death and violence at every corner, but whatevs? Like. When I was a kid, even camp for one week away from my mom made me cry like a baby, but. Hey - we both know you’re like a hella strong person, so. I guess as long as you’re okay with what you went through, then that’s…cool, I guess.”
Miss Meow just looks up at Mar’i, its electric blue eyes looking almost like the cat understands what Mar’i is saying. Then, abruptly, the cat gives Mar’i’s fingers a couple licks and then starts bathing her paw and face.
Kyle shoots back his shot and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. ”I…ah ahahaha, no but like. That’s just it, isn’t it? We do just figure parental issues can crop up for people we know. Whether it’s due to being orphans or bad parents or parents who turn into villains….” Kyle rubs his eyes with the heel of his hand. ”It’s just. Everyone has a story, I suppose. And Sindella? Well, get this, amiga: she’d technically died, but she relocated a fragment of her spirit or soul or whatever into Zee, when Zee was like…well like about a decade ago. When Zee was young. Since then her mother’s conscience….consciousness? Her mother’s been inside Zee, affecting her thoughts and actions and even making Zee have like, blackout periods - remember all that news this summer about Zee’s disappearance and her tour and when I had to go to Istanbul? - because it’s when her mother decides to take her over….I just. Ayyyyy.”
Scrunching up her nose, Mar’i grabs a handful of popcorn as well (with the hand that hasn’t been rubbing the magical cat). ”I mean, it was terrifying, sure. And probably bad parenting. But—” Mar’i shrugs again. ”—I mean, in the grand scheme of wacky shit that has happened in my life, both here and there, it’s just another episode.”
As she listens to Kyle, her eyes widen, then squint, before she proclaims firmly: “Okay, well that’s creepy as fuck and pretty predatory.” Mar’i crosses her arms, eyebrows creasing inwards. ”Is Zee cool with it? Because I mean, if not, there’s got to be a way to get her out, right? This is some weird magical Tuck Everlasting shit, only instead of a magic fountain and Sissy Spacek, it’s body possession a la Invasion of the Bodysnatchers.”
Mar’i pauses for a moment, curling up her lip. ”X’Hal, since when am I pop-culture-Polly? I gotta get new hobbies.”
Kyle can’t help but burst out laughing at Mar’i’s unhappy realization over her non-stop pop culture references, because it was rather amusing, in a cute way. And in a way that made Kyle feels strangely warm and gooshy. He might not’ve watched Tuck Everlasting and he’s not sure who Sissy Spacek is beyond name-recognition, but. The idea of Mar’i soaking herself into this world’s pop culture, even to the point that she feels over-saturated, it just makes him feel happy. It’s a difficult feelign to explain; but then again there isn’t much written up about trans-dimensional half-aliens who have no choice but reluctantly learn to call some new place their home. Nothing that isn’t pop-culture, that is.
"She’s entirely NOT comfortable with it!" Kyle adds with a loud enthusiasm, tapping his shot class on the counter. He pours them both a couple more shots. "She’s got no sorta fondness for her mother, that’s for sure - and I can see why, especially when I found out what she’d been doing to Zee all this time." Kyle leans forward, closer to Mar’i; his breath smells like coconut and lime. "Mar’i, I’ve spoken to the woman - through Zee - more than Zee ever has. Which is - which is never! I’ve had extended conversations with a mother that Zee’s never met. It. It! It boggles the mind!!!”
He throws back the shot, forgetting the salt and the lime entirely. ”So her mother left Zee diaries - eight hundred of ‘em, by Zee’s count - to read. And as she reads, Sindella assured me that she’ll…I dunno. Filter out of Zee as Zee reads her mother’s deepest and darkest thoughts. She has to finish reading all the diaries for her mother to finally leave her. Magically. Magic, I tells you. Magic!”
Mar’i takes the shots as Kyle pours them. The nearly rapid-fire pace of two in a row shows on her face instantly, as she scrunches up her nose and licks salt off the knuckle of her thumb frantically. ”Man,” she murmurs, nodding as she listens to Kyle. ”That is so…” Mar’i shudders and reaches for the tequila bottle. ”That is fucking creepy. Like what kind of fuckery even is that? I didn’t want to parent you when I was around but I’ll hitch a ride in your body since it’s convenient for me, but oh, by the way, you can’t get rid of me until you read a kajillion diaries?”
She starts to feel the burn slightly after she takes another shot, moving her hand away from the shot glass to begin rubbing Miss Meow again. ”Who does enough to write 800 diaries anyway? Like even a magical person—who has that much to do in their life worth writing in stupid exorcism diaries or whatever? Probably dumb shit like, ‘today I painted my fingernails with magic and now I will write thirty pages about the experience so I can chill in your body forever, kiddo.’”
Mar’i nods into his sentiment. ”Magic,” she agrees, letting the meaning behind that settle unspoken between them. Looking down at Miss Meow, she lifts the cat up on its back legs, looking it in the eyes. ”You better not be in on this, Miss Meow. I have the comfiest bed in the house and you aren’t stepping within ten feet of it if you are.” It’s a silly threat, for sure, but one that Mar’i makes anyway before she puts the cat back down on her lap and resumes rubbing it. ”Magical animals are cool, though. So there’s that, I guess.”
"It’s one of the ways me and Zee bonded, really," Kyle says, his voice suffusing with a warmth fondness, although that could just be the heat of the cheap tequila. "Raised by single parents and not giving a hoot about our dastardly ditching parent. So I’m sure alla this sudden attention from Sindella - knowing that her mother’s essentially not just been with her but has been puppeting her and now making demands for Zee to trawl through pages and pages of teenage angst…! All so Ms Mom of the Year can rest in peace. It’s a tall order for someone who was never there for their daughter.”
He reaches out and scratches Miss Meow who is purring now, and butting her head against Kyle’s hand to demand more. ”The cat is insurance. I’m supposed to make sure Zee’s gonna actually read every single one of those diaries. And this cat’s here to make sure I do…” Kyle’s face sours slightly, and it’s not because of the limes. ”I carry out my duty, as instructed by Sindella. Gata will follow me around. Maybe I should take a stroll by the pound, huh…? Would you like that gatita?” He leans in to scratch her butt like he saw Mar’i do, but gravity gets him where coordination lacks, and Kyle almost falls off his stool.
He laughs, using Mar’i’s knee as a brace to right himself again. ”Good tequila.” He pours them a couple other shots. ”So. Please tell me there’s hella drama in your life too, mama.”
Mar’i nods enthusiastically during Kyle’s rant as she downs handfuls of popcorn. ”Yeah! Fuck that!” She takes a shot. ”Fuck her! Zee ought to trap her ass in a really shitty place for all eternity, like a microdimension where she’s stuck on that Carnival cruise where everyone got sick and the plumbing stopped working.” Perhaps this is a bit extreme, but Mar’i clearly doesn’t notice.
"You’re on notice, cat," she adds to Miss Meow, before returning to her popcorn. "Nah, I don’t really have any drama." Mar’i scrunches up her nose. "Sorry! My life is kinda mundane and boring besides—OH!"
Following Kyle’s lead, she nearly falls off the barstool in the scramble to find her phone. It takes her a few minutes to realize it’s squeezed in a couch cushion, and when she comes running back to Kyle, it’s as if she’s holding some sort of great trophy. ”CHECK IT!” she yells, crashing into his side and leaning up against the countertop as she proudly displays the breasty, hairy star on her background. ”Isn’t this pretty much the greatest thing you’ve ever seen?”
Kyle dissolves into sideways laughter at the idea of this microdimension. ”Yeah! Yeah! And you know there totally is something like that out there. I mean, technically Mummy Dearest is already dead, it’s just a matter of…putting her spirit to rest, I suppose. Actually…” Kyle sobers up just slightly to have a small epiphany to himself. ”…that’s…that makes way more sense now…”
He gets lost in his semi-hazy thoughts, forgetting his surroundings until Mar’i careens into him and brings him back to reality. Or, rather, to her phone, which is displaying something…Kyle tilts his head, reaching out to wrap his hand around Mar’i’s to steady the phone as he squints.
"It’s…que. A googly-eyed pokemon-wannabe or something?" Kyle leans in closer. "Waitaminute. Are those even eyes????"
"You know," Mar’i muses, grabbing a napkin to wipe popcorn grease off her mouth, before doing the same to Miss Meow for no apparent reason (and much to the cat’s chagrin), "I’ve never understood the point of wakes and funerals for shitty people. Or like, dinners where everyone has to say something nice. Seems kind of pointless to me. Either you were a good person to the people left behind, or you weren’t. No reason to wipe everyone’s slate clean after the game is up."
She leans in, grin growing exponentially. ”Those,” she boasts, “are magnificent breasts, my sweet summer child. An artist rendition of my fabulous breasts, to be precise. And very accurate too, might I say?” Mar’i flicks her short hair over her shoulder, preening. ”What can I say? I’m inspiring. A muse, some might even say.”
"I gotta agree. Y’know sometimes I wonder-" Kyle hiccups, then fists his chest a couple times and swallows hard before he continues. " - sometimes I think about that, like. If I die. Would I want a wake? I think I would. But I’ve never told no one about what I’d want if I died." He pours a couple more shots, his grin all wobbly now. "Guess I’m telling you," he says, lifting his glass to cheers her.
He shoots it back and then, wincing from the burn, takes another look at the phone, tracing a finger around the roundness of one of the graffiti’d breasts. Then he flares back in delight and crows. ”Om shit, I see it now! That - that does look weirdly like you! But more in the hair than in the, erm. Chestal area. Your chestal area looks more like, real.” Kyle looks down at himself, tracing a line along the side of his own chest.
"Like, like a this-shape and not that fakey-this shape and…" Of course, trailing off and looking off into the distance, he realizes this means he’s revealed just how much thought he’s given to Mar’i’s breasts, but. He tries to reason that a) she won’t mind; and b) he’s an artist.
"Okay," Mar’i nods. "I’ll make sure there’s a wake if you go before me. And if I go before you, I don’t want one. Just have someone perform the traditional rites of X’Hal, and then set me ablaze and into space." She reaches over to grab the popcorn bag and shakes it lightly to loosen some burnt pieces off the sides. "Wouldn’t be enough people for a wake here. It’d just be awkward."
Watching Kyle trace his chest, Mar’i scrunches up her nose and wags a finger. ”No, no, no,” she insists, “they’re absolutely true-to-life, shhh! A hardworking weirdo somewhere out in this big ol’ world doesn’t know how to draw titties because he’s probably never seen real-life ones, and is doing the best he can.” She leans over, wrapping a hand around Kyle’s mouth. ”Shhhhh, shhhhhhhhh, acquiesce to the fake titties, young Jedi.”
Kyle starts to laugh, and makes smoochies at Mar’i’s hand as it covers his mouth. But when that doesn’t work then he brings out the big guns and slurps her fingers, his laughter going from muffled to loud as she pulls her hand away. ”Can - can you imagine the amount of time….this freak…took to come up with…this…design….of YOU?!?! Oh- oh - ay dios mio. Okay, I am suddenly starting to appreciate the post-modern aesthetic of this. Why - ” Kyle squints at the image on her phone again, then pulls it away. ”Why’d someone put this on a bank anyway? Shouldn’t they’ve adorned like a wall in a park? Or some eatery?”
He shakes his head, grinning as he lurches off the stool to wrap his arms around Mar’i’s shoulders and press his cheek against hers. Given than they both have rather round, plump cheeks, there ends up being a lot of smoosh. ”Ahh who’s the young Jedi now. It’s not about quantity, it’s about quality, my Padawan. And I got so much love for you that it’s like fifty wailing widows. If you die before me then I’m gonna follow every single X’Hal rite to the letter and send you off in the most amazing blaze of glory into space, people’ll be talking about it for weeks.”
If it was anyone else, Kyle would consider this kind of conversation borderline morbid, but. It’s Mar’i. The woman trained on freaking Okaara as a teenager. And he knows death can be scary, but he also knows it’s inevitable, especially for people in their line of work.
"Eatery?!" Mar’i snorfles, nearly careening into the jars of flour and sugar on the countertop. "AN EATERY?!" She bowls over, leaning against the cool laminate counter as she cackles loudly, stomping her feet at the same time.
Raising up a little, she snorts. ”You are so not my Qui-Gon Jinn. You might be Ewan McGregor, but then that makes me Anakin, and no-fucking-thanks on that. But good. It’s oddly comforting to know you’ll show up naked and throat-sing ‘X’Hal Kar’ika' to the rest of the attendees, including the other 49 widows chilling in your bod.”
At the mention of woman inhabiting bodies, though, Mar’i’s face sours, and she rests her elbows back on the laminate. ”Still fucking creepy. Zee’s mom being inside her. Kinda makes me never want to have kids for fear I’ll somehow turn into someone like that.”
"An eatery! AN EATERY!!!" Kyle confirms, louder and louder, grinning but also slightly confused, like a dog with a wagging tail that has no idea what’s happening, but is excited nonetheless. "A dining area, a restaurant, a food-hole!! We need more tequila…" Kyle grabs up the bottle and pours the remaining amount out, as equally as possible between the two shots. His hand warbles just a bit and he spills some onto the table, but Kyle just leans over and hoovers it into his mouth.
He is placid about being called the Ewan version of Obi Wan and then looks thoughtfully at Mar’i. ”Maybe you’ll be one of the Jedis in the new movie. And if not, then you’re Yoda, there, no debates.” He seems okay with singing naked, although that could just be bravado and not actual acceptance, Because, of course, acceptance would also mean he’d have to accept that Mar’i might one day die. And he’s not willing to actually think about that.
He nods at Mar’i’s assessment of the Sindella situation, and throws back his final drink. ”Yeah, I know, right? I swear to Oa, if any fucking thing ever comes 2 lightyears near me to try’n posses me ever again, I am gonna…well. Something. Something badass and threatening-y.” He nods with determination.
"As if you wouldn’t spoil your kids rotten. How could you not? It’s in your nature…" Kyle remembers the way Mar’i comforted him, about Baby, the last time he’d openly cried; and his drunkenness takes a gooshy swing. He reaches out and paws at her arm. "You’re so good at caring. And hugs. You’re great at hugs too. All…warm. And soft. Way soft."
[Ring Txt] a cat
[Ring Txt] I'm bringing a magical cat home
[Ring Txt] think Luna from Sailor Moon except without the talking but a lot of the staring
[TXT] that’s not how that song goes at all omg what caroling books have you been reading?
[TXT] wait
[TXT] seriously? Is it cute?
[TXT] Can it turn me into a magical girl????????????
[Ring Txt] you’re already a magical girl, what. I’ve seen your whirlwind change sequence when you’re late for an appointment, all it needs is some starbolt sound effects and a stirring soundtrack
[Ring Txt] she’s pretty cute. I named her Miss Meow
[Ring Txt] I’ll be home soon, Mar’i. MAR’I.
[Ring Txt] I think it’s gonna be a popcorn and tequila and Adventure Time night for us, chica. if you’re up for it.
[TXT] miss meow awwwwwwwww
[TXT] sho sho!
[TXT] I’ll prep the limes and salt
Kyle returns home, the cat curled around his shoulders, and Kyle clutching a paper bag with a bottle of cheap tequila in it. He makes as much dramatic noise as possible getting his coat and scarf and shoes off, obviously so that Mar’i can hear him. When he greets her in the kitchen, he pushes his face into the back of her shoulder, leaning his weight into her. Miss Meow gives a small yowl and sleekly leaps to the floor, but doesn’t stray far. She returns and twines around the warmth of Mar’i’s ankles.
"Errrummmmpf. Whatta day." Kyle says into Mar’i’s shoulder. He pulls back, grabbing a couple shot glasses. He glances over at Mar’i as he unwraps the tequila. "Tell me, Mar’i - what was it like for you with your parents. I remember how close you were to your father…what about your mam?"
Mar’i blinks and looks down at the cat twining itself around her ankles. Her face breaks out in a huge grin, the squinty-goofy type brought on cute babies and small animals. ”Ohmigoshhhhh,” she squeals, not noticing the weight of Kyle’s head as she makes grabby hands at the cat. ”So cuteeeee!”
She only notices Kyle was there when he lifts away to seek out the glasses and tequila, and raises an eyebrow at what he says next. ”Well, this is kind of random…” she murmurs, scooting up a barstool next to the kitchen island and planting herself firmly on it. ”Let’s see. My mom left the planet when I was…13? I saw her a lot when I trained on Okaara, but once I was back on Earth, it was mostly video and hologram calls. I mean, besides the angsty teenager shit I pulled with being angry with her for leaving, we had a good relationship. When she would come to visit, or bring me over to the Tamaranean Outpost to see her and Uncle Ryand’r, she’d always try to load me down with Tamaran as much as she could. We’d have gigantic feasts and she’d tell me every story she could remember from when she was a kid…”
Mar’i pauses to salt her hand methodically. ”Is that what you meant? Like, that kind of stuff?”
Kyle gets the popcorn machine going (he considers himself the master of the air popper) while Miss Meow leaps up and makes herself comfortable on Mar’i’s lap, while still watching Kyle.
"Yeah that kinda stuff exactly yeah, but—wait. Wait." Kyle turns to look at Mar’i in surprise. He’s diverting completely from the original topic, but Kyle’s used to this. He can’t help having extremely compelling friends, after all. And right now his mind is just full of one burgeoning question. "You trained on Okaara??! I’m - I mean. If Okaara in your dimension is the same as Okaara in this dimension…yeesh.”
Kyle microwaves a generous amount of butter and coconut oil for the popcorn, as the machine dutifully creates egregious amounts of the snack. He doesn’t feel ‘yeesh’ covers his exclamatory feelings, so he adds on a “Yowza.”
Mar’i takes a quick shot of tequila with lime and salt before she makes a little excited noise, hunching her shoulders around Miss Meow as she experiments with various petting motions on different spots. ”Yeah,” she nods, “have I never told you that? I had like—” Mar’i makes a goose-egg with her fingers, and whistles. ”—no control over my powers, so my parents sent me to get a little training. Go figure that was one of the few things they could agree upon.”
Miss Meow preens her butt up when Mar’i pats near there, so she begins a steady little drumbeat against the cat’s tail, raising an eyebrow at Kyle. ”Soooo back to topic? What’s up?”
Kyle brings over the popcorn, setting it down as he picks up a lime promptly, motioning with two fingers for Mar’i to pour him a shot. He settles on a bar stool of his own and holds the shot glass in his hand, face still lit up with burning curiosity.
"So your powers were like…like puberty for you? That’s so X-Men…." Kyle marvels (no pun intended). "But what was it like? You know what Okaara’s like here, it’s, well. It’s pretty harsh. Really hardcore, like. It’s not a nice place. I mean I’m sure your parents knew what they were doing, but. Sending a teenager there all by herself is just….wow."
Miss Meow makes a whirring noise, first low, then high, then she turns in a full circle and settles again on Mar’i, keeping her butt lifted slightly for continuous scratches. Kyle watches her getting comfortable, feeling strangely pleased with the beast and how well it’s getting along with Mar’i. He points at the cat.
"The cat isn’t so much a gift from Zee. It’s a gift from her mother. The estranged mother who supposedly abandoned Zee and Mr Zatara decades ago." Kyle shakes his head, drawing in a breath. "Zee’s going through some rough stuff right now." He throws the shot back, chasing it with the lime in satisfaction.
"Well, Okaara’s a training ground for Vega royalty," Mar’i shrugs, "—at least, first and foremost. But yeah, it’s kind of terrifying. It really has that whole everything-here-will-kill-you feng shui going on, you know? But my mom and aunt trained there, and it helped my mom control her powers later on after the…" Mar’i takes another shot. "…experiments and enslavement."
She freezes mid-butt scratch at the magical cat, suddenly regarding it with a distrusting expression. ”Are you really evil?” she asks, squinting. ”Because I can’t give butt scratches to evil cats.”
Mar’i looks up at Kyle, then back down at the cat. ”Jeez-us,” she breathes, then resumes patting the cat, although with a noticeable decrease in enthusiasm. ”Is she evil? X’Hal, what kind of lives are we living that I can automatically back that question up with a list of evil moms I personally know?”
Kyle eats some popcorn - or more like, smashes heaps of popcorn into his face - as he listens to Mar’i. He frowns in confusion and holds up his clean hand, then motions for her to pour again. ”Well, I mean. Okay. I’m not one to assume anything about other-dimensional worlds and family arrangements or anything but it seems like you’re saying it was…no big deal? Like, at all? It was just some place you went to with like death and violence at every corner, but whatevs? Like. When I was a kid, even camp for one week away from my mom made me cry like a baby, but. Hey - we both know you’re like a hella strong person, so. I guess as long as you’re okay with what you went through, then that’s…cool, I guess.”
Miss Meow just looks up at Mar’i, its electric blue eyes looking almost like the cat understands what Mar’i is saying. Then, abruptly, the cat gives Mar’i’s fingers a couple licks and then starts bathing her paw and face.
Kyle shoots back his shot and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. ”I…ah ahahaha, no but like. That’s just it, isn’t it? We do just figure parental issues can crop up for people we know. Whether it’s due to being orphans or bad parents or parents who turn into villains….” Kyle rubs his eyes with the heel of his hand. ”It’s just. Everyone has a story, I suppose. And Sindella? Well, get this, amiga: she’d technically died, but she relocated a fragment of her spirit or soul or whatever into Zee, when Zee was like…well like about a decade ago. When Zee was young. Since then her mother’s conscience….consciousness? Her mother’s been inside Zee, affecting her thoughts and actions and even making Zee have like, blackout periods - remember all that news this summer about Zee’s disappearance and her tour and when I had to go to Istanbul? - because it’s when her mother decides to take her over….I just. Ayyyyy.”
Scrunching up her nose, Mar’i grabs a handful of popcorn as well (with the hand that hasn’t been rubbing the magical cat). ”I mean, it was terrifying, sure. And probably bad parenting. But—” Mar’i shrugs again. ”—I mean, in the grand scheme of wacky shit that has happened in my life, both here and there, it’s just another episode.”
As she listens to Kyle, her eyes widen, then squint, before she proclaims firmly: “Okay, well that’s creepy as fuck and pretty predatory.” Mar’i crosses her arms, eyebrows creasing inwards. ”Is Zee cool with it? Because I mean, if not, there’s got to be a way to get her out, right? This is some weird magical Tuck Everlasting shit, only instead of a magic fountain and Sissy Spacek, it’s body possession a la Invasion of the Bodysnatchers.”
Mar’i pauses for a moment, curling up her lip. ”X’Hal, since when am I pop-culture-Polly? I gotta get new hobbies.”
Kyle can’t help but burst out laughing at Mar’i’s unhappy realization over her non-stop pop culture references, because it was rather amusing, in a cute way. And in a way that made Kyle feels strangely warm and gooshy. He might not’ve watched Tuck Everlasting and he’s not sure who Sissy Spacek is beyond name-recognition, but. The idea of Mar’i soaking herself into this world’s pop culture, even to the point that she feels over-saturated, it just makes him feel happy. It’s a difficult feelign to explain; but then again there isn’t much written up about trans-dimensional half-aliens who have no choice but reluctantly learn to call some new place their home. Nothing that isn’t pop-culture, that is.
"She’s entirely NOT comfortable with it!" Kyle adds with a loud enthusiasm, tapping his shot class on the counter. He pours them both a couple more shots. "She’s got no sorta fondness for her mother, that’s for sure - and I can see why, especially when I found out what she’d been doing to Zee all this time." Kyle leans forward, closer to Mar’i; his breath smells like coconut and lime. "Mar’i, I’ve spoken to the woman - through Zee - more than Zee ever has. Which is - which is never! I’ve had extended conversations with a mother that Zee’s never met. It. It! It boggles the mind!!!”
He throws back the shot, forgetting the salt and the lime entirely. ”So her mother left Zee diaries - eight hundred of ‘em, by Zee’s count - to read. And as she reads, Sindella assured me that she’ll…I dunno. Filter out of Zee as Zee reads her mother’s deepest and darkest thoughts. She has to finish reading all the diaries for her mother to finally leave her. Magically. Magic, I tells you. Magic!”
Mar’i takes the shots as Kyle pours them. The nearly rapid-fire pace of two in a row shows on her face instantly, as she scrunches up her nose and licks salt off the knuckle of her thumb frantically. ”Man,” she murmurs, nodding as she listens to Kyle. ”That is so…” Mar’i shudders and reaches for the tequila bottle. ”That is fucking creepy. Like what kind of fuckery even is that? I didn’t want to parent you when I was around but I’ll hitch a ride in your body since it’s convenient for me, but oh, by the way, you can’t get rid of me until you read a kajillion diaries?”
She starts to feel the burn slightly after she takes another shot, moving her hand away from the shot glass to begin rubbing Miss Meow again. ”Who does enough to write 800 diaries anyway? Like even a magical person—who has that much to do in their life worth writing in stupid exorcism diaries or whatever? Probably dumb shit like, ‘today I painted my fingernails with magic and now I will write thirty pages about the experience so I can chill in your body forever, kiddo.’”
Mar’i nods into his sentiment. ”Magic,” she agrees, letting the meaning behind that settle unspoken between them. Looking down at Miss Meow, she lifts the cat up on its back legs, looking it in the eyes. ”You better not be in on this, Miss Meow. I have the comfiest bed in the house and you aren’t stepping within ten feet of it if you are.” It’s a silly threat, for sure, but one that Mar’i makes anyway before she puts the cat back down on her lap and resumes rubbing it. ”Magical animals are cool, though. So there’s that, I guess.”
"It’s one of the ways me and Zee bonded, really," Kyle says, his voice suffusing with a warmth fondness, although that could just be the heat of the cheap tequila. "Raised by single parents and not giving a hoot about our dastardly ditching parent. So I’m sure alla this sudden attention from Sindella - knowing that her mother’s essentially not just been with her but has been puppeting her and now making demands for Zee to trawl through pages and pages of teenage angst…! All so Ms Mom of the Year can rest in peace. It’s a tall order for someone who was never there for their daughter.”
He reaches out and scratches Miss Meow who is purring now, and butting her head against Kyle’s hand to demand more. ”The cat is insurance. I’m supposed to make sure Zee’s gonna actually read every single one of those diaries. And this cat’s here to make sure I do…” Kyle’s face sours slightly, and it’s not because of the limes. ”I carry out my duty, as instructed by Sindella. Gata will follow me around. Maybe I should take a stroll by the pound, huh…? Would you like that gatita?” He leans in to scratch her butt like he saw Mar’i do, but gravity gets him where coordination lacks, and Kyle almost falls off his stool.
He laughs, using Mar’i’s knee as a brace to right himself again. ”Good tequila.” He pours them a couple other shots. ”So. Please tell me there’s hella drama in your life too, mama.”
Mar’i nods enthusiastically during Kyle’s rant as she downs handfuls of popcorn. ”Yeah! Fuck that!” She takes a shot. ”Fuck her! Zee ought to trap her ass in a really shitty place for all eternity, like a microdimension where she’s stuck on that Carnival cruise where everyone got sick and the plumbing stopped working.” Perhaps this is a bit extreme, but Mar’i clearly doesn’t notice.
"You’re on notice, cat," she adds to Miss Meow, before returning to her popcorn. "Nah, I don’t really have any drama." Mar’i scrunches up her nose. "Sorry! My life is kinda mundane and boring besides—OH!"
Following Kyle’s lead, she nearly falls off the barstool in the scramble to find her phone. It takes her a few minutes to realize it’s squeezed in a couch cushion, and when she comes running back to Kyle, it’s as if she’s holding some sort of great trophy. ”CHECK IT!” she yells, crashing into his side and leaning up against the countertop as she proudly displays the breasty, hairy star on her background. ”Isn’t this pretty much the greatest thing you’ve ever seen?”
Kyle dissolves into sideways laughter at the idea of this microdimension. ”Yeah! Yeah! And you know there totally is something like that out there. I mean, technically Mummy Dearest is already dead, it’s just a matter of…putting her spirit to rest, I suppose. Actually…” Kyle sobers up just slightly to have a small epiphany to himself. ”…that’s…that makes way more sense now…”
He gets lost in his semi-hazy thoughts, forgetting his surroundings until Mar’i careens into him and brings him back to reality. Or, rather, to her phone, which is displaying something…Kyle tilts his head, reaching out to wrap his hand around Mar’i’s to steady the phone as he squints.
"It’s…que. A googly-eyed pokemon-wannabe or something?" Kyle leans in closer. "Waitaminute. Are those even eyes????"
"You know," Mar’i muses, grabbing a napkin to wipe popcorn grease off her mouth, before doing the same to Miss Meow for no apparent reason (and much to the cat’s chagrin), "I’ve never understood the point of wakes and funerals for shitty people. Or like, dinners where everyone has to say something nice. Seems kind of pointless to me. Either you were a good person to the people left behind, or you weren’t. No reason to wipe everyone’s slate clean after the game is up."
She leans in, grin growing exponentially. ”Those,” she boasts, “are magnificent breasts, my sweet summer child. An artist rendition of my fabulous breasts, to be precise. And very accurate too, might I say?” Mar’i flicks her short hair over her shoulder, preening. ”What can I say? I’m inspiring. A muse, some might even say.”
"I gotta agree. Y’know sometimes I wonder-" Kyle hiccups, then fists his chest a couple times and swallows hard before he continues. " - sometimes I think about that, like. If I die. Would I want a wake? I think I would. But I’ve never told no one about what I’d want if I died." He pours a couple more shots, his grin all wobbly now. "Guess I’m telling you," he says, lifting his glass to cheers her.
He shoots it back and then, wincing from the burn, takes another look at the phone, tracing a finger around the roundness of one of the graffiti’d breasts. Then he flares back in delight and crows. ”Om shit, I see it now! That - that does look weirdly like you! But more in the hair than in the, erm. Chestal area. Your chestal area looks more like, real.” Kyle looks down at himself, tracing a line along the side of his own chest.
"Like, like a this-shape and not that fakey-this shape and…" Of course, trailing off and looking off into the distance, he realizes this means he’s revealed just how much thought he’s given to Mar’i’s breasts, but. He tries to reason that a) she won’t mind; and b) he’s an artist.
"Okay," Mar’i nods. "I’ll make sure there’s a wake if you go before me. And if I go before you, I don’t want one. Just have someone perform the traditional rites of X’Hal, and then set me ablaze and into space." She reaches over to grab the popcorn bag and shakes it lightly to loosen some burnt pieces off the sides. "Wouldn’t be enough people for a wake here. It’d just be awkward."
Watching Kyle trace his chest, Mar’i scrunches up her nose and wags a finger. ”No, no, no,” she insists, “they’re absolutely true-to-life, shhh! A hardworking weirdo somewhere out in this big ol’ world doesn’t know how to draw titties because he’s probably never seen real-life ones, and is doing the best he can.” She leans over, wrapping a hand around Kyle’s mouth. ”Shhhhh, shhhhhhhhh, acquiesce to the fake titties, young Jedi.”
Kyle starts to laugh, and makes smoochies at Mar’i’s hand as it covers his mouth. But when that doesn’t work then he brings out the big guns and slurps her fingers, his laughter going from muffled to loud as she pulls her hand away. ”Can - can you imagine the amount of time….this freak…took to come up with…this…design….of YOU?!?! Oh- oh - ay dios mio. Okay, I am suddenly starting to appreciate the post-modern aesthetic of this. Why - ” Kyle squints at the image on her phone again, then pulls it away. ”Why’d someone put this on a bank anyway? Shouldn’t they’ve adorned like a wall in a park? Or some eatery?”
He shakes his head, grinning as he lurches off the stool to wrap his arms around Mar’i’s shoulders and press his cheek against hers. Given than they both have rather round, plump cheeks, there ends up being a lot of smoosh. ”Ahh who’s the young Jedi now. It’s not about quantity, it’s about quality, my Padawan. And I got so much love for you that it’s like fifty wailing widows. If you die before me then I’m gonna follow every single X’Hal rite to the letter and send you off in the most amazing blaze of glory into space, people’ll be talking about it for weeks.”
If it was anyone else, Kyle would consider this kind of conversation borderline morbid, but. It’s Mar’i. The woman trained on freaking Okaara as a teenager. And he knows death can be scary, but he also knows it’s inevitable, especially for people in their line of work.
"Eatery?!" Mar’i snorfles, nearly careening into the jars of flour and sugar on the countertop. "AN EATERY?!" She bowls over, leaning against the cool laminate counter as she cackles loudly, stomping her feet at the same time.
Raising up a little, she snorts. ”You are so not my Qui-Gon Jinn. You might be Ewan McGregor, but then that makes me Anakin, and no-fucking-thanks on that. But good. It’s oddly comforting to know you’ll show up naked and throat-sing ‘X’Hal Kar’ika' to the rest of the attendees, including the other 49 widows chilling in your bod.”
At the mention of woman inhabiting bodies, though, Mar’i’s face sours, and she rests her elbows back on the laminate. ”Still fucking creepy. Zee’s mom being inside her. Kinda makes me never want to have kids for fear I’ll somehow turn into someone like that.”
"An eatery! AN EATERY!!!" Kyle confirms, louder and louder, grinning but also slightly confused, like a dog with a wagging tail that has no idea what’s happening, but is excited nonetheless. "A dining area, a restaurant, a food-hole!! We need more tequila…" Kyle grabs up the bottle and pours the remaining amount out, as equally as possible between the two shots. His hand warbles just a bit and he spills some onto the table, but Kyle just leans over and hoovers it into his mouth.
He is placid about being called the Ewan version of Obi Wan and then looks thoughtfully at Mar’i. ”Maybe you’ll be one of the Jedis in the new movie. And if not, then you’re Yoda, there, no debates.” He seems okay with singing naked, although that could just be bravado and not actual acceptance, Because, of course, acceptance would also mean he’d have to accept that Mar’i might one day die. And he’s not willing to actually think about that.
He nods at Mar’i’s assessment of the Sindella situation, and throws back his final drink. ”Yeah, I know, right? I swear to Oa, if any fucking thing ever comes 2 lightyears near me to try’n posses me ever again, I am gonna…well. Something. Something badass and threatening-y.” He nods with determination.
"As if you wouldn’t spoil your kids rotten. How could you not? It’s in your nature…" Kyle remembers the way Mar’i comforted him, about Baby, the last time he’d openly cried; and his drunkenness takes a gooshy swing. He reaches out and paws at her arm. "You’re so good at caring. And hugs. You’re great at hugs too. All…warm. And soft. Way soft."