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Maus was not someone generally inclined to trust - well, anyone; the last decade or so had made him paranoid, and unfortunately that had not been scrubbed away like the rest of the grime on his starseed.

But he had more or less been forced to trust someone, and that someone was Joyeuse Garde, whose obvious irritation made trusting her much more enjoyable. It entertained him to see how reluctantly she took to the role of mentor, especially given that she kept doing it anyway, a little manifestation of true Earth Knight honor and virtue that he had no ambition to replicate now that they had the same symbol on their shoulders.

So he had reached out to her, after his first visit to his Wonder - his skin still crawling a bit, truth be told - to inform her, dutifully, that he had taken her advice, gotten his ring, and generally acquainted himself with the gist of the place and also the spirit that was lingering within it.

As much as she'd been willing to let herself be acquainted with. As much as he'd tried. Joy seemed to have very different feelings about her ghost than he had about his.

She had invited him, as cordially as she was able to do in writing although he could not help but read it in her tone of bland irritation, to go walkabout with her, and they'd chatted a bit of shop talk, although as they were winding down the awareness of a nearby friendly aura blossoming into being had compelled her - and likewise him, caught inexorably in her wake - to pursue it.

"We have to find you a cat, and I hate to interrupt Viatrix right now when she's working on her s**t," she had been saying, and he was glad of this sudden distraction from having to hedge a way around that particular conversation. From what she'd been saying it sounded like avoiding a cat would do nothing but doom him to a lifetime of having penpals rather than magical social media, and he was pretty sure he was OK with that.

He did note - he could not help but note - that she adjusted the whip in her hand as they strolled with evident casual intention towards the strengthening sensation of nearby allies, and he felt a little wistful that he had nothing but a dumb toddler's toy tucked into his belt, if she was worried that s**t was going to hit the fan. They had already established that she, too, was a little paranoid.

"Hello," she called out into the darkness, in a voice decidedly more cheerful than what she'd been using on him. "Good timing. Looking for company?"

He did not appreciate the sudden smile Joy turned on him, which had a kind of smugly basking quality, as if she had summoned the Mauvian through sheer force of will and was now resisting the urge to gloat about it.

"Just the two of us," she sang out, striding on ahead while Maus, once again, was left to scuttle around in a somewhat undignified fashion in her wake, already attempting to steel himself against what was to come.

It was stupid and irrational. He knew this. It was even more stupid and irrational when it wasn't even a cat, really, but a rational being. But something about the way the damn things moved and blinked and - urgh. He shuddered inwardly. The name felt like a cruel joke, now, but maybe there was some historical reason why a person had been named Maus and developed an intense dislike of cats.

But he was almost as afraid of Joy as he was of the unseen cat, and certainly had less faith in his ability to outrun her, if he'd wanted to. So he made himself speak also, thankful that a lifetime of lying had at least made it easy for him to keep his voice even.

"And one of us barely counts," he contributed. Joy glanced back at him with a stern look, and so he found himself compelled to continue: "Do you know, we were just talking about maybe possibly at some point in the future looking for a Mauvian. Small world," he added weakly.

"Joyeuse Garde," she said. "And Maus," she added, as if it was her responsibility to speak for him, and maybe in that moment it was, since he was growing increasingly sure that he would not be capable of speaking for himself, and was pointedly avoiding casting his eyes down to approximately cat-level.

A tense, crowded silence ensued, which mostly consisted of Joy turning her attention and vague concern from Nembus to Maus, who returned the stare with an innocent and definitely-sincere stupidity.

She then, rather than immediately answering, turned her attention to Elliott, giving the cat a withering stare of sympathetic fellow-feeling, making a "what can you do?" gesture at both Nembus and Maus.

"What is wrong with you?" she demanded, either of Maus or possibly of the universe for saddling her with two people so jumpy.

"Ah," he said at last, nervously smoothing his mustache down with his thumbs, as he was wont to do when attempting to buy time to speak. "Ah," he said again, very intelligently.

"For the love of-"

"Elliott," he managed at last. "Nice to - to meet you." Which was a hell of a thing to say from someone who was still studiously avoiding looking at the creature he was addressing. "I, uh."

"He needs a ring upgrade, if you can do it," finished Joy, apparently giving up, like the frustrated mother of an overawed toddler who cannot decide whether he wants nuggets or a burger. "He would be very grateful," she added.

“No,” said Joy, as pleasantly as she could scrape together the cheerfulness for. “We were just having a bit of a stroll and here you are, falling right into our laps. Maus is new.”

“And boy, my back’s killing me,” announced Maus promptly, procuring his signet ring and extending it towards Joy, who looked at it with open skepticism. “Threw it out earlier. Can’t possibly bend over right now.”

He did not look back at Joy, aware that she was probably trying to broadcast the idea that she would do a lot worse than bend him over herself if he didn’t grow the ******** up. He did see, however, out of the corner of his eye, that she was dragging the tip of the whip on the ground. They had had certain discussions about magical powers, and it occurred to him that being compelled would be so, so much worse.

“Well,” he amended hastily, “that’s what Ibuprofen is for.” He stooped, then, holding out the ring on his nervous gloved hand and choosing to look instead at Nembus, addressing her with a feigned, slightly panicky cheerfulness. “How does one go about getting a personal technology cat? That’s pretty cool, right? You guys been - uh - partners for very long?”

"Typical place to find a cat, I think," said Maus before he could think, which required him to hastily add: "and mice, too, I believe. Kindred spirits."

"That's where my dog came from, too," said Joy, absently. She was apparently absorbed in watching the Mauvian's dexterous little paws with fascination, as she had with Viatrix. "But I don't think she's gonna wake up one day and start fixing my TV. More's the pity."

Her evident distraction meant that Maus was, once again, at sea. Forced to distract himself from looking at The Awful Beast by once again attempting to engage with Nembus. This was something he would ordinarily have found very easy.

"A few years," he repeated. "Wow. You have seniority on both of us, I think. Well. Maybe. How do you calculate it? I was kicking around on the other side for like a decade, but I wasn't doing much, so I'm not sure if it counts."

This was more honesty than he was generally inclined to. The cat was making it hard to think.