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"Escaping's gonna be hard, if not impossible," Kaveri muses aloud, "if only for location alone. Who knows what other safeguards these assholes put in so that they may keep their 'pets' in their front yard."

She arches a brow, holding out a hand. "You okay, man? You sound a little nervous." She takes a step towards him, intent on putting a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Great, another guy being turned into a ******** of who knows what? It's bad enough these doctor guys are turning people into animals, but playing mix-and-match, as well?! "I'm sure whatever you got hit with isn't as bad as the bear guy. Chin up, at least you're not in his situation." Really, can you get any more aggro than what poor Chubbs got injected with?

"Yeah, it is. It's a shame that nobody really listens to me, though -- I try to spread the truth and the word, and all I get is arrested and thrown in jail. It's happened to me enough times, it's like nobody wants to hear the truth of the matter. People're more concerned about gas prices and tax cuts than they are of their own well-being. It's sad," she shakes her head.

"Need help with that?" Kaveri offers, motioning towards Zach's hand with the hat pieces intertwined between his fingers.

"A cage? How disgusting. I guess they really think we are animals," she frowns, wrinkling her nose with disgust. "I would think they'd treat us a little more humanely, but I guess not."

"Hey, it's cool. I was just concerned, that's all," she dismissively waves her hand. "I had a skittish friend like that back in Oly. She played in the band with me."

She puts her hand down, setting it on her hip again. "Protesting, mostly. And not paying fines when the cops arrested me and my friends for living in an abandoned building -- like I could afford those stupid tickets, anyways. ******** gouges. I believe having a place to live should be a right, not a privelige - and that if someone is resourceful enough to find and live in a home that nobody else is using and hasn't been used in years, they shouldn't have that taken away from them. Can you believe that people throw away perfectly good houses? There may be a small problem with the roof, or the walls rotting out, but everything can be fixed."

Kaveri takes his hand, carefully taking off the pieces of what was once a hat, very mindful of those sharp claws. "Man, you really tore this thing apart," she grins, pulling the last part of the hat off. "No need to apologize, really. You looked like you needed help -- hey, do you still want this?" She offers Zachary his former hat, upon hearing of the sentimental value. She could relate, Kaveri brought a lot of things with her that had sentimental value to her - like her old red bicycle. She wouldn't get much use of it here, but she liked having it there leaning against the side of her duplex like a faithful, if inanimate, watch dog.

"I can only imagine what kind of s**t they'll try pulling on me," Kaveri rolls her eyes, then tilts her head when Zach asks her about her choice of instruments.

"Oh, mostly string instruments -- my mother taught me how to play the sitar growing up, and my friends convinced me a few years ago to take up playing the four-string banjo for a bluegrass quartet they were planning up - it's definitely different from the many strings of the sitar, it's easy for me. The latter is what I brought with me here."

Kaveri squints. "Cameras..? Oh, don't even tell me-- these bastards are taking advice from 1984?" She looks around suspiciously, turning in some random direction and raising her middle finger in the hope that she's aimed at one of those hidden cameras. "******** you guys!" She calls out, then laughs. "Those bastards are smart. If we're to talk about s**t," the woman lowers her voice, "we'll have to be careful about it. Really careful."

She's already come up with several vague ideas for methods of communication to thwart the cameras. She'd have to hash them out later, but there would definitely be some written code language that could be known only to the other islanders... hmm. Hmm, hmm, hmm.

"I agree, if everyone had a home of their own -- maybe even commune housing to save space -- everything would be better. People wouldn't have to be begging out on the streets, and they'd always have a place to go home to... a place of their own. And maybe people would have their own vegetable gardens and farms, and live independently and without having to spend money on anything but luxury items - all the necessities of life would be at your hands, with no cost but the time and energy you put into it yourself." She exhales a hopeful sigh, absently twirling a finger around a dreadlock as she always does when her hands have nothing better to do. "What I would do to live in a place like that..."

"Why get rid of it when you can make something else out of it?" Kaveri asks with a smile, "Maybe sew a new hat out of the old one, something better suited to those horns of yours." She doesn't catch herself, and reminds herself that Zachary only has one arm - sewing would be rather difficult for him. Laughing awkwardly, she holds out a hand. "I could possibly make something out of it for you. It just needs a little stitching, that's all."

"You should come over sometime, and I'll play for you. I live in duplex 44 -- the top of this one here -- and I should be home for the most part. I've lost any desire to explore this place right now," she nods, leaning on the shovel sticking up from the ground.

Kaveri lowers her voice to a whisper, and leans into Zach's ear so (hopefully) he's the only one to hear it. "We should do stuff to ******** with them," she suggests, "write 'notes' with complete and utter bullshit written on them, pass them around, and pretend they contain important stuff. If we can't escape, we might as well try to dupe 'em into thinking we are."

She pulls back, resting an arm on her shovel with a smug grin and a laugh.

Kaveri takes the hat's remains, turning them in her hands and looking over it to get some ideas of what she could make out of it. "Everything can be fixed," she says, "a lot of people don't see that, though. One little thing goes wrong with something and it goes straight to the trash can, with no effort put into making it useful again. But no matter how harsh the damage, everything can be put back together. It's not like the key parts of something actually disappear if it falls apart, ya know?" She looks at the floppy ex-hat again, tucking half of it into her pocket so a part of it sticks out.

"That'd be awesome if you came by to visit," she grins. Honestly, she doesn't know what's ahead of her - she's almost worried. Almost. If she weren't distracting herself from the inevitable, she'd be fretting like mad.

"Awesome, I have some paper and paints back at my place. I'll write something to you later," she whispers back, "and slip it in under your door or something. Or hide it under a rock..."

She, too, laughs at her brilliance. If this prank is successful, the sheer amount of chaos it would cause would be simply marvelous to behold. If you can't fight with your fists, fight with the intent of confusing the hell out of your enemy.

"I take life slowly, so I get the chance to see things that most other people don't," she grins, turning over her hand so her palm faces the sky. "It's a good philosophy to have, even around here -- while this island may be some doctor-controlled hellhole, we still have a tiny bit of freedom in that we're given a lot of spare time to do things for ourselves."

Kaveri mentally notes Zachary's duplex number, and decides that she'll stop by sometime tomorrow and drop off a little note to get this thing rolling. It would be even better if she could get other islanders involved in this, but who could she trust not to leak her plans to those sick doctors?

"Alright, seeya around!" Kaveri holds up a hand to wave good-bye, wearing a big grin on her face. "And thanks!"

Once Zachary disappears around the corner of her duplex, Kaveri turns to the spot of ground she was pacing around before and starts digging again.

Suddenly, this island got a little bit better.

~Fin~

Antony, with a cigarette in hand, was about to open the door and stroll right in when she saw someone else there, and with an eyeroll, she took one last long drag before dropping the smoke and snuffing it out with her shoe. She was tired, but in a relatively good mood, thanks to a certain Irish teenager.

Nodding towards the redhead, she gathered her own tray full of food, making sure to grab a bowl full of nuts and seeds for later. So far, they had been the only dietary change her body had demanded. "Mind if I join you?" The tattooed woman asked, tails flicking behind her warily at the new girl, "I'm Antony."

If she freaked out, so be it.