Difference between revisions of "Cait Sith: Cut Off"

Cait was exhausted after dealing with the aftermath of the wendigo attack. After seeing to both Razira of the Protectors of the World and his own teammate, Black Ice, he’d gone around tending to as many civilians as he could, using his magic to lift those afflicted with the wendigo curse. He did the best he could, but in the back of his mind, he knew he likely had not reached all of those who might be suffering from it. It would be something that would have to wait until he had time to rest. Despite the exhaustion, sleep continued to elude the Cheshire cat. That dreaded moment when the wendigo had crushed his pendant and communicator kept replaying itself in his head. The communicator being broken was inconvenient, but it was easy to replace. The azeztulite pendant was not. With it gone, he found himself without a means to go back home. And as much as his situation in Faerie had driven him to the human world in the first place, he found the idea of being cut off unsettling.

He gave up on the notion of sleep finally and rose wearily from his sleeping spot in the common area of the Arcade-O-Rama. What he really needed to do was talk to someone about the issue… but Cait wasn’t exactly the most open of people even under normal circumstances. He paused and considered the closed doors of the living quarters, debating on intruding. So while he recognized that talking it out would likely help him to at least address and acknowledge his position, perhaps even garnering some sort of useful advice, he also realized that if he didn’t trust his teammates enough to give them his true name, he likely wouldn’t trust them enough to lay out the fact that he was feeling quite vulnerable at the moment. He wanted to. He really did. But if his family had taught him anything, it was that you can’t trust anyone fully.

He slipped off down to the hangar, lingering for just a moment as he passed Kid Ballistic’s armory. Maybe Cait could talk to him. For all of his faults, the cat felt comfortable around him. But the teen gunslinger wasn’t in there, and the cat wasn’t sure he was of a mind to go and hunt him down. He continued on, making for the series of tunnels that led out to the Westside docks. As he emerged through a grate into the sultry Michigan night, he considered just what it was he was going to do with himself. It hovered in his thoughts as he prowled the docks.

Why does it bother me so much? I maybe used the pendant a handful of times in all the time I had it. It’s not as if I planned to go back to Faerie any time soon.

In a series of easy leaps, he alighted on top of a stack of wooden crates awaiting to be shipped. He looked out over the murky night waters. His tail swished in constant motion, an outward sign of his inner agitation. He mulled over the whole affair in silence for some time, before finally reaching a conclusion.

It bothers me because at least I had the option of returning when I wanted to. And now that option is gone.

“... so what do you plan to do about it?”

Only the din of sound from Millennium City answered him.