"If you're flipping out about cops, then I'd assume you have a legitimate reason to be," Red huffs. "I mean. I don't like them either, but... mngh. I guess you can't run into here if you get in over your head." Silence, then. "...eeeh.... yeah. I mean. It's not like we were close anymore, but I saw it in the paper, alongside a picture of that fake looking so sad. Like it really... who am i kidding, she does think she's me. It's stupid anyway."
Shit. Okay, this is why they should keep track of these things, Zebra. Collect IDs or something. “I’m sorry,” she says, sounding both sympathetic and uncomfortable. “Where are we going, anyway? And is it all going to be, uh. Flooded?”
"...it was awhile ago. I hadn't been able to talk to her in a few years, anyway. So. She was... not dead to me, but as close as someone can get if you still give a damm about them." She shoves her hands in her pockets. "...and. uh. To be honest? I have never seen a section of the hedge reek of this much death. We should get clear soon... depends on how far it echoes whatever it picked up."
“Echoes…” Katters echoes. “Hmm. Like an emotional imprint? Like a haunting.” She eyes the blood thoughtfully. “You wanna take a sec to tell me what ‘The Hedge’ is? Maybe throw in a rundown of how you were able to turn my bathroom door into a portal to the Blood Dimension, while you’re at it.”
"...yeah. Like that." She frowns, balancing on a skull, then turns to look at Katters. ".....do you believe in faeries?"
“I believe in something,” Katters says, thinking back to a number of misadventures in the woods. “We can call ‘em fairies, if that suits.”
"This is the borderlands, basically. Go deeper, and you find the land where the true fae are... out here... you'll mostly run into hobgoblins and things like me."
“Borderlands. Between — I suppose ‘the Fae’ and ‘the real world’.” She pauses to think, sinking into the blood. “You know, I always just figured they lived in the woods. But this might explain a few things.” She starts walking again, taking a moment to wrench her feet free. “Things like you — you used to be human. And now you aren’t, and that means you can open portals, provided there is a door handy?”
"...I was stolen away and replaced by something else." She crosses her arms. "...yeah, basically. There's a few other tricks, but honestly that's the most useful one. Most of us don't like going back here, but..." She shrugs. "...the one that changed me used to take me hunting through the hedge. It still feels like home."
“Can you do archways?” Katters catches up with Red, taking long strides until they’re next to each other. She peers at Red sideways. “Doorframes with no door? Holes in a wall? Really big windows?”
"...If they're made right, sometimes. Uhm. No door, yes. Holes... I haven't managed it. Same with windows. I think some people can, but... not me."
Katters’ ears flick forward, her pupils dilated. “Windowframes with the bottom removed? What if we added a threshold to it? Oh! Doors that aren’t attached to anything? Doorframes that aren’t attached to anything?” She looks away from Red, framing her ideas in the air with her hands. She’s speaking very rapidly, now, and barely giving Red a chance to respond. “What if we took a door and removed pieces of it until your trick stopped working? Took something that doesn’t work and add door parts to it until it does! Blindfolded you and had you work on something that was a door and something that wasn’t a door without telling you which one was which!”
"....I have no idea. I haven't tested it... I mean. Uhm. We... could try?" Red... just tries to talk while Katters does, hoping at least some of it will come through.
“Does it matter if—” Katters grins, an unnervingly wide grin that splits the lower half of her face and shows off all of her teeth. “We can?” she asks, turning the grin on Red. No one has ever willingly participated in her science before. “We’ll have to find another — oh, do you suppose we could—” She glances over her shoulder. “—but no, that would just take us back to TIMPS, right? We should — we need to — heck, I wish I had a notepad.”
“I don’t see why we can’t find a door and Zebra,” Katters says. “It’s not unlikely that the one will lead to the other.” She waves a hand dismissively. “The shops — The Inconspicuous Meat Pie Shop. Customers started using the acronym, and it stuck.”
“Meat pie,” Katters corrects in a tone that implies this is something of a sore spot. “It’s not one or the other — you don’t get to choose between meat or pies. We sell meat pies. That’s it. “And it’s apt — it’s an inconspicuous building. We do all right now from word of mouth, but for a while there we hardly saw any customers. Can’t say the location does us many favours, either, really. Well, not with selling pies, anyway — it’s a nice neighbourhood and all.” She frowns. “We did, I mean.”
"....man, that sounds really good right now," Red complains. "...well, as long as you have your health, you can find a place to start over. You'll be alright."
“Screaming fruit not hitting the spot?” Starting over. “Sure,” Katters says, but starting over doesn’t appeal right now. Maybe it will once the sting wears off — in the meantime, the idea of starting anything from scratch is exhausting. Shouldn’t think about it too hard. Box that up, deal with it later. Find Zebra now. Things’ll be easier with the two of them together.
