Welcome to Gaia! ::

No sooner had Joy powered up, for the first time in several days - a studied avoidance brought on by her increasing discontent with the lot thrust upon her and by her fear, from reading the database, of powering down suddenly and exposing her identity - than she considered powering right back down again and going home.

The truth was that there was a seductive sort of allure to being powered, and while she tended to think of Joy as a sort of third person and the act as something like a type of supernatural possession, she missed, a bit, the feeling of being not only someone else but someone more powerful and unfortunately even more interesting than Elaine - who was, in her biased opinion, already pretty damn interesting.

But Joy, ten minutes into prowling around in a quiet neighborhood and nominally looking for trouble, was prevented in the act of immediately retrenching, turning tail, and walking back home by a sensation that was very strange. The vagaries of what she mentally termed her Magical Radar were still being exposed to her - she had only learned that there were means of dampening a signature at all - and so she wrinkled her nose with intense confusion. The shape of it, however, was friendly.

It reminded her of something, but she couldn't quite think what. Against her better judgment, she moved in its direction, suspecting that it was also moving in hers and already very close. She had once engaged in a playful game of Marco Polo in a very similar situation, only to receive a lecture for being reckless.

She still felt this was unfair. Therefore, she made a second effort, hoping that perhaps this time she would find someone who wouldn't scold her for it.

"Marco?" she called out into the dark, playfully.

From everything she knew - which admittedly wasn't much, but was probably enough - the creature in front of her demanded a sort of respect that she was not inclined to give to most of her fellow Cosmic Bullshit Participants. It was a creature much like this one that had memorably helped her early on - the familiarity suddenly made sense - and she understood them to be a crucial part of the machinery that kept the darkness at bay, or whatever it was that they were supposed to be doing. By all rights she should be treating this moment like a chance encounter with a valuable ally, worthy of respectful treatment if not outright deference. Dignity, really, should be the name of the game.

But instead, she actually clapped her hands to her cheeks with a little gasp of delight.

"Oh my god," she said, without thinking and instantly regretting it. "You're so cute." It occurred to her that she was holding a whip, which was essentially a cat chase toy, and it took everything in her not to wiggle it obligingly. And then, somewhat mortified: "Sorry."

oh no the little paw

"I didn't know that there was supposed to be a Siamese Pyewacket," she confessed, apparently unaware of the movie. "But it's a wonderful name. And yes, I'm - I'm called Joyeuse Garde. Squire of Earth." She wrinkled her nose, and added playfully: "I know, I know, I'm not even French."

She hesitated. But it felt strange and somehow rude to tower over him, so she dropped to a squat, folding her arms over her knees and still resisting the urge to tempt him into playing with the whip. "I've only met one of you before, and we were sort of busy trying not to get eaten at the time, or at least I was. She was the most helpful person I've met since all this bullshit happened to me, though. Anyway, sorry if I'm rude - I don't know any better." And then: "And you are terribly cute."

"Oh," she said, overjoyed at this little flex of knowledge which she, too, delighted in. "I love you. Yes. That's the one. Where he took Guinevere after all the s**t hit the fan, too. Where Mark wrests Iseult back from Tristan, in the Prose Tristan. Or well, that's how the stories go." She made an expressive face. "Not really how it was at all, I guess - it's so terribly French and empty I can't even blame Malory for getting it all wrong because the French writers did too. And it's certainly more dolorous than joyous again, if it was ever joyous at all, but you're right that Joy is a much better nickname than the alternative." She propped her chin on her hand to better admire her strange conversational partner. "You never have to apologize if medieval romances are the topic."

She paused, wrinkling her nose once again, and hazarded a risky question, with ulterior motives. "A bookshop is a good place for a normal cat. Is it a good place for a - a spacefaring cat of the cosmos? Don't people try to pet you?"

She closed her eyes and spoke very quickly in a single breath, as if afraid, having found an unspoken wish unexpectedly granted, that if she did not act swiftly it might be revoked.

"Oh my god, I thought it was Narnia rules or something and that it would be offensive and disrespectful and I cannot tell you how badly I wanted to pet her and now I will pet you, thank you."

She had not often - or ever - had a powered moment that had made her felt that she was living up to her name. She could now count exactly one as, with delight, she accordingly Pet the Cat.

"This is the best day of my life," she said, which, if you considered Joy as a separate person from Elaine - and she did - was literally true.

Joy, as both a lover of animals and the owner of a very small and delicate dog who required accordingly delicate handling, was an expert.

Unfortunately, duty - or at least dignity - called, and after a few minutes of silently joyful Cat Time, she stood up, before she could succumb to the undoubtedly inappropriate urge to scoop him into her arms.

"Thank you for that," she said sincerely. "I needed that, I think. I'm gonna be honest, this whole magical-second-life thing hasn't really been overflowing with good things, you know? But that was definitely a good thing."

She paused, and then, feeling unselfconsciously and even defiantly silly, dipped a little curtsy to the cat. "I hope I see you around some time," she said. "Not every day I get to pet a cat who's read the Lancelot-Grail Cycle," she added with a laugh. "We can talk about Galehaut next time. I hope the rest of your night continues to be good."