shitposting rave 4: (almost) anything goes

[A giant, talking metal cat.

...Okay. Fine. This is their life now. At least the cat seems more interested in the other cat(folk?) than in some comparatively-tiny elf.]

[They badly cover a laugh.]

 

That's an interesting question!

[he taps his chin in thought]

So, think about where you live. On a country-to-planet sized scale, I mean! Then suppose that in certain alleys, by-streets, dead-end roads, or what have you, that you could go to a place almost exactly like where you live now, if you knew the way.

That is where the Junkyard is, on my Earth.

 

So it´s a bit like here. There´s places on the ship to go to here. We keep finding more and then caer fusses.

 

Who is Caer?

And, yes, I think that's probably right. I've been thinking of it like...if Earth is Here, and the Junkyard is There, this is somewhere in the middle!

 

[Elf ears are not built for pricking up, but Shalivah sure is paying attention!] Huh! Sounds like some sort of planar magic! Is the Junkyard the only place that does that, or are there other... what would you even call them, overlays?

 

*It's furry trash asshole time.*

 

-Mab poofs in, looking a bit fuzzy around the edges before snapping into focus.-

 

Hmm, the Junkyard and the surrounding place is pretty big, but there might be other places elsewhere! We cats certainly do value our privacy and I would suspect it no different on the other side of the world.

[very long sigh]

Oh, god damn it.

Hello, Tugger!

 

No different in my world, either! [It's not revealing too much to say so when at least two more people just teleported, is it?] The Junkyard is only for catfolk, then?

[...On second thought, maybe talking to someone in so much blue isn't a good idea, even if this one looks both a little young and a little too human to be the particular danger she's worried about. Shalivah edges back around a convenient outcropping, carefully Not Looking at the new arrival.]

 

*Where did that rock come from? Who knows, but he's lounging on it.*

What's got you so glum, my mystical, magical, marvelous, majestic, magnificent, and remarkedly glittery friend?

 

There are no straight paths through the Woods.

-the silver raven on her shoulder flies off to examine Mistoffelees. He's very shiny!-

 

I'd certainly be shocked to see a human there, at the very least! It's where we go to avoid them, usually.

That's quite the array of adjectives, you confoundingly contrary, curious cad. I'm fine! Never better. How are you?

[he very narrowly does not swat it and instead sniffs curiously]

 

-it smells old and like magic, but also like a garden variety raven. It takes not being attacked as an invitation and lands on his head-

 

My Caers name is Nichrome! She´s a captain. I´m going to be a doctor.

 

I'm not sure I like the term Caer.

 

What´s wrong with it?

 

I'd advise you ask that question on the regular, as the answer changes so frequently. Right now I'd peg my disposition as intrigued, with a side of--

*His pupils dilate.*
--hunger.

 

[he flattens his ears. is this out of frustration or to make a better perch? the world may never know. either way, he doesn't move to disturb the raven, and looks at the person it flew from]

Say! Where are you from? You mentioned woods?

Interesting! Why do you want to be a doctor?

The bird is magic, you dolt. No eating magic birds!

 

Oh, of course, I would never dream of devouring a glorious arcane avian.

*He begins making chittering noises under his breath. Fuck da police.*

 

It's confusing to me.