Welcome to Gaia! ::

"I've always been the patient one. At least with most things. Pat might argue otherwise, but as a man who enjoys testing my patience his perspective is slightly different." Ora folded her hands on the edge of her knee, she was relaxed, though had a habit of never looking relaxed unless she was purposely using an illusion to fake it. With butterfly she didn't bother, assuming she was among those who would always see through the power.

"I'm well, often complicated, but well none the less. And you?" She asked, though not solely for politeness. There was a natural curious to Ora, the same that was in Ruby, though Ora was often more focused about it.

"Occupy them with catnip or allow them to take naps in strange places...like the top of a bookshelf." Ora added a soft sigh. "In other words: not much."

"I seem to only live the one, to be truthful, though there are shadows of others. As long as one goes well, there is at least some balance, I suppose. Though it's not like I can compare." Ora's eyes moved at a lazy pace to the picture, watching it a moment before wandering her gaze back to Butterfly. "I have an idea, though it would be impossible not to have at least an idea...wrong or right as it may be." She smiled, one corner of her mouth creasing deeper than the other. "I have come across a very large range of unusual people. Some of them are closer bonded to the fabric of their world, others seem less attached.
"Some people would call you a god, though that term is used far too often for far too many things."

"Hmm, he may be a god in his own right, but I can still crush or make him glow with a single word." Ora chuckled, "I would be lying, though, if I wasn't as needy and far from easy in my own way." She followed with a soft chuckle. "And I wasn't joking about the catnip...it's the oddest thing, it really is."

"Far more interesting to not belong in any of them." Ora said simply. "And with that, I share a common string."

Ora tilted her head with slight though, considering it fro a long moment. When her illusions were down, what was usually presented as an expressionless face, was very filled with movement. A range of emotions and motions animated across her face as she thought. "The term I use is 'a weaver.' You're among those who stretch out the world's strings and hold it in place as time travels through it. You plot the pattern of fate for us to follow. Our choices fill in that pattern as tightly as a weave of cloth, sometimes following the guideline, sometimes not. My own weaver may have created me to choose a certain path, and even plotted it out in detail ahead of me, but I will never be forced to make any choice. If I was forced, I would cease to be, and she knows that as well as I do."

Ora chuckled, "I was a thread who insisted on having a choice, I'm sure there are probably others who are far more comfortable leaving their fate in other hands. If you recall, though, I've been dragged around by a God before...and I vowed I would never allow that to happen again. I'm sure my weaver often wishes I was a little more malleable than I am."

Ora let out a laugh, "Catnip, yes. He's half tugali. He purrs, and I don't honestly know if I can trust him with a small bird. He also does this nuzzling thing by instinct, particularly if he feels his claim to me is being threatened." Ora let out a small sigh, "I apologize if I ramble, he's a subject I can get carried away on."

"Oh, my weaver does meddle. She may give me free will...that doesn't mean she won't meddle. The relationships are always complicated in that matter, and differ from thread to thread." Ora's shoulders raised in a lazy shrug.

Ora leaned back on the rock, her posture losing some of its stiffness as thoughts of Pat had that effect on her. "Some men are simply attuned to cat like attributes, and to be honest, if a man acts in the way of a cat, it doesn't seem unnatural for a cat to respond by acting in the way of a human. They may even meet down a common road." Ora chuckled slightly, "When I bring up Pat's similarities to a cat he usually shrugs it off as if it was a silly point to bring up anyway. He is what he is, and I believe he thinks it less a point that he is like cats, as cats are like him."

"I'm generally not good with connecting to human or creature. My own cat, hates me." Ora shrugged her shoulders. "I got the cat during the time that Pat was dead. Of course, I went through about five of them before her... the first one didn't even last a day, and one blew up. That aside when I got Patty, she was supposed to be a boy, and yes I did name her after Pat...I named them all after Pat --which unfortunately wasn't the best idea considering they kept dying and I thought I was cursed-- well she absolutely hated me. She still hates me." Ora paused, "I'm not even sure where I was going with this. But I do have to keep all my yarn locked up in a closet. I don't know if he'll play in it...but he does have a habit of messing with things he shouldn't."

"The one who blew up...that was an accident involving an incompatible charm. The others, well it was all different, mostly ill luck, but suffice it to say...I'm not very good with pets. I just don't live a very safe life in general. Patty, though, I believe she hates me too much to die...and she's been amazingly resilient." Ora smiled, "She loves Pat, though."

"Life isn't life without trauma in some form or other," Ora said with a soft smile. "It makes the good parts of it so much more valuable."

She laughed softly, "That does not surprise me."