paradisalogs | somewhere there

Who: Helen Magnus and OPEN
What: Helen's still a cat, clearly she needs a distraction
When: June 1
Where: Around the castle, you pick!
Rating: PG for fluffy cuteness

Helen had been a cat for a month. One, long month. Although she'd gotten used to it and appreciated some of the simplicities of it she was more than ready to be herself again, even if it would mean having to discuss things that Helen wasn't certain that she wished to.

She was even a little surprised, although in hindsight she found that foolish, that so much had still managed to affect her even as a cat, although the biggest of that? The children. Her children - her children with James. It had been days since they'd left and yet she still had no idea what to think of it. The castle messing around, giving them kittens was one thing but for them to be children that actually existed albeit in another reality? Kittens that were actually children, children that were both like them? It was frightening. And Helen didn't really want to think of it, if only for the feelings it stirred.

Helen had taken herself from her room, wandering the halls and rooms of the castle in an attempt to find something (or perhaps someone else) that could give her something different to think of. A simple distraction would be nice, or perhaps another problem elsewhere that she could bury herself into, even if she couldn't do too much to help. It would be nice, really.

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Danny was brooding about his situation here and nothing was new. What was different is that he had decided to go out in his ghost form to explore the castle. Maybe count the screams. Sure, people said that everyone was okay with ghosts around here. But he had a tough time believing that.

This cat, if she saw him, would have been one of those that was okay with ghosts, if only from being used to them here (although her first sighting hadn't produced too much surprise either). Helen stopped for a moment in the corridor that she'd been walking down before walking again - she'd been a cat for some time now and was still finding odd, occasionally difficult, to walk on four legs; her balance wasn't quite up to par.

Spike hadn't had the best month himself, even if it weren't for the magical distractions that were constantly forcing his attention. They're starting to wear him down - to the point that he took to avoiding interactions as much as possible. He hadn't been coming out of his hole much since the latest prank got pulled on him, but even he has a limit to how much he can sleep.

When he was roaming and suddenly saw a cat in the hallway, he hesitated. His loss came with the unfortunate side effect of being extremely short, not much bigger than the cat, and dealing with another animal chasing him is the last thing he needed.

Keep walking, kitty.

Thankfully for Spike Helen had no interest in chasing him - she'd done quite enough of that lately when the castle had seen fit to give her kittens, and chasing the both of them? She was due for a nice rest, if she would simply allow it.

But she stopped walking, looking at him for a moment. Dragons were an unusual sight in Paradisa, at least compared to the majority of individuals in the castle, but she had a feeling that she'd seen this dragon before (because how many small dragons were there?). It was a moment before Helen decided what to do, instead just simply sitting. He could walk on by or say hello, but she was at least being a little friendly?

When she didn't seem outwardly aggressive, he heaved a sigh. Magic aside, he never was a big animal fan. Paradisa's bread of animals just tended to be a lot less predictable than the kind he was used to.

Tentatively, he started to walk past. Not dropping his suspicion while he was in a vulnerable place. "Awfully tame cat."

He's just passing through, really. On his way to something else, something (that barely counts as) important. Except Sherlock Holmes has never been one to miss details, and there's something about this cat in this hallway at this time that catches his attention.

He stops in the middle of the hall.

"Hello."

Now there was something that Helen hadn't expected - she'd fully expected Sherlock to ignore her as she walked (she'd noticed him quickly and had carried on) but the little 'hello' makes her stop.

Stop in curiosity. Turning her head to look, to see if he was actually looking to her (which he was) and then to wonder why, not that his expressions ever told too much. And then... well then she just wonders. Sherlock Holmes having a moment of puzzlement. Her being the cause of it isn't ultimately surprising, she's been a mystery to many over her centuries, but as a cat, and to Sherlock?

Well, now that is something she wants to see - to test him on. So Helen turns, walking a little closer to him ever so cat-like. Hello, Sherlock.

Ah, acknowledgment. That's nice. (Expected.) He approaches her (carefully, quietly) and then crouches, studying her. Whatever he was planning to do before, something here must be trumping it, because he doesn't seem all that concerned about going on his way. He just watches, evaluating.

Then he offers his hand, the way that people do when they invite cats to sniff them before trying to pet them.

That sniffing goes ignored, firstly because she's not actually a cat and secondly because she doesn't actually need to know what you smell like (or what you've been doing). Instead of walking further forward she just sits in front of him, watching and waiting for what he'll do.

He draws his hand back when it becomes obvious she's not responding to it, and smiles.

"Who are you, then?"

somewhere there

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