"There's a lot of things I didn't think I'd ever do. Funny how none of them turns out to be good."

”Yeah, interesting how bad judgement seems to affect everyone,"

No kidding bad judgment. Like running into a fire filled building when you’re standing on a perfectly good sidewalk doing a perfectly good community service. Things could get confusing and Sara wasn’t sure if she could say that she would never do that again. Logically or emotionally.

I third it. The motion passes, unanimously. It's just a damn shame we can't erases all the little black marks on the world, ain't it? Let's just start calling this camp the eraser factory, shall we?"

"You can if you wanna. But the only thing being erased is a few physical bodies. Memories are what last, and I'd say those are being burned in."

“An elegant way of putting that, Neena.” Had the news traveled about Shya? That concrete angel. Sara wasn’t sure.

Sara held up her wrist where her cuff was and pulled it down to show the permanent scar from the electrical burns she had almost constantly been receiving for the first weeks at the camps. There was a ring around her wrist, where the cuff sat that had no fur and displayd her pink scarred skin making the same ring. “It’s sort of like when you tie a piece of string around your finger, only this is my wrist.” She let the cuff slide back in place where it covered the bald ring around her arm.

"Mister, I don't know what kind of a thorn got stuck in your side, but I honestly hope one of these days you figure out how to get rid of it. You'd probably look halfway handsome if you smiled once in a blue moon."

Sara’s head tilted and she tried to envision a smile… ok maybe he would… you know, look ok… for a norm….

"For starters, I'd suggest some decent music. With melody.... No wonder you filched it from him."

Sara shrugged. A small smirk made it’s way across her furry face. “It was sort of nice not having to worry about walking into second hand ear aches while making deliveries. Those are almost as bad as the smell of the second hand smoke I have to endure from other individuals.” Among the smell of other things Neena had been sticking in guard undergarments, but that was worth the discomfort. “How do you strange people walk around with noisy bits of plastic stuck in your ears anyways?”

((ooc: Many apologies for the delay in reply!))

> "Yeah, interesting how bad judgment seems to affect everyone."

Rupert glared at the woman, with a deepening scowl. The corners of his mouth twitched briefly up; then the scowl tugged them back down. Okay. Point to the woman in the arm cast; be damned if he was going to let her know it, though.

> "You can if you wanna. But the only thing being erased is a few physical bodies. Memories are what last, and I'd say those are being burned in."

> “An elegant way of putting that, Neena.”

Rupert was distracted from raising an eyebrow at the black woman's yawn by the start of the lion lady's show-and-tell. That raised wrist of hers. It wasn't hard to figure out what she was trying to get him to see. He stared at that ring of scarred flesh, and all he could think at first was, Huh. So there is skin under there.

> “It’s sort of like when you tie a piece of string around your finger, only this is my wrist.”

He had the good sense to look slightly ashamed. Slightly. Maybe 'uncomfortable' was closer. "I guess that healing of yours isn't nearly as useful as it's cracked up to be," he jibed.

> "Mister, I don't know what kind of a thorn got stuck in your side, but I honestly hope one of these days you figure out how to get rid of it. You'd probably look halfway handsome if you smiled once in a blue moon."

Rupert stared at the woman. A deadpan stare. "Please. Stop trying to picture me as handsome." That the woman was thinking anything at all along those lines was, to be completely honest, more than a little unnerving. It was safe to say he hadn't trying to think of what would make her beautiful. ...Until now. He couldn't help giving her a glance-over. Three showers, a week of decent meals, and something other than a glorified burlap sack for clothing would be a good start. He glanced towards the lioness, and gave a little shudder. A complete genetic make-over would definitely be a good start.

> "For starters, I'd suggest some decent music. With melody...."

Rupert glanced back towards the black mutie. Never mind. Showers, food, and clothes couldn't make a woman beautiful if she didn't have any taste for music. "Excuse me," he pointed a finger at her chest, "but did one of our Neanderthals-for-hire hit you over the head? 'For What It's Worth' is right up there with Billy Joel's 'Goodnight Saigon' and Genesis' 'Land of Confusion'." His hackles were up. His musical hackles. She could insult him all she wanted, but leave his playlist out of it. Especially the contemporary anti-war songs.

> “How do you strange people walk around with noisy bits of plastic stuck in your ears anyways?”

Rupert stared at the lioness. It was a 'do you actually expect me to answer that, mutie?' stare. Finally, he looked between the two women. "Don't you have laundry to wash? Get a move on."

"Please. Stop trying to picture me as handsome."

Neena quirked her eyebrows and shrugged. It's not like she was intentionally trying. It was just an normal observation. Though to be honest, with all of those faces he was making, it was hard to tell.

“It was sort of nice not having to worry about walking into second hand ear aches while making deliveries. Those are almost as bad as the smell of the second hand smoke I have to endure from other individuals.”

Neena was incapable of feeling embarrassment or shame. Instead she tilted her head down to hide the smirk, and became extremely interested in the itch just underneath her cast, on her palm.

<"Come to think of it, I wonder if James's rash ever vanished?" Haven't seen that g-string lately. Hmm.....>

Rupert apparently didn't like her music remark, to judge from the finger pointed in her face.

"Excuse me, but did one of our Neanderthals-for-hire hit you over the head?"

"Several, actually. On numerous occasions," she remarked quietly as he ranted on.

" 'For What It's Worth' is right up there with Billy Joel's 'Goodnight Saigon' and Genesis' 'Land of Confusion'."

She blinked blankly. Obviously none of those names registered with her. His return stare-slash-glare made it fairly clear that this argument was going nowhere fast. She simply shook her head.

"Don't you have laundry to wash? Get a move on."

Neena snorted, and held up her arm. "Um, yeah. Gonna have a problem with that? Unless you plan on pitching in?"

She smiled sweetly.

<"Okay, let's see.... Bitter, touchy, easily irritated, sarcasm masking humor, intelligent, but very confused. Sounds like a trauma victim." She kept her prognosis to herself. But one thing seemed, at least to her, to stand out rather clearly.

Rupert had some pretty deep issues that had nothing to do with her or Sara.

"I guess that healing of yours isn't nearly as useful as it's cracked up to be,"

Sara managed to resist the urge to sink her teeth into her tounge in stopping herself from saying a little more than the thing starting up and shocking her when ever she healed, Thus starting a painful circle of events till either her body balanced out or until she didn’t have anything left to heal with. It wasn’t the first scar she’d even received either so it shouldn’t be a big deal. “You thought a healer would be absolutely perfect?” The words were asked but mumbled like she was chewing on the words. Interesting as this conversation is, the conversation was getting old.

"Please. Stop trying to picture me as handsome."

“I’d never have a problem there.” Oh did Sara say that out loud? And not mumbled either. Her eyes flicked up to look at Rupert as if trying to see if she had really said that out loud, Then shrugged and let her lips slide into a smile.

Rupert began to seem to just go on. Ok so he could be more touchy about his music than his looks. Interesting.

"Don't you have laundry to wash? Get a move on."

"Um, yeah. Gonna have a problem with that? Unless you plan on pitching in?"

Sara shrugged again. “You mean him? Help?” She shook her head, Turned to face so that she could make a good raspberry, farting sound, in Rupert’s direction, in the most child like way possible. Stupid thing to do, Yes, but Sara really didn’t care. Her ears were already starting to ring again and beginning to bother her head from the ear buds. “You know Even James picks up sacks for me. Keep in mind he is picking them up to pile them higher in my arms, but he is picking them up. You’re not the type.” At least Rupert hadn’t helped her yet, and nor had he really gotten in her way in the past.

...The black woman did not know Genesis. She did not know Buffalo Springfield. She didn't even seem to know Billy Joel. This was what that blank blink was telling him. " 'Piano Man'?" Rupert said in an attempt to trigger some sort of recognition in her brain. It was a wasted effort; he knew it on some instinctual level. The poor woman. She was musically malnutritioned..

~ “You thought a healer would be absolutely perfect?”

Rupert's eyebrow twitched. "Honestly?" He returned. "Yes. That seems like the whole point of being a healer. What? Are you a lion who can't handle hunting, too?"

~ "Um, yeah. Gonna have a problem with that? Unless you plan on pitching in?"

~ “You mean him? Help?”

The raspberry that followed didn't make his respect for the lioness rise. In fact, it gave him yet another reason to distain her.

~ “You know Even James picks up sacks for me. Keep in mind he is picking them up to pile them higher in my arms, but he is picking them up. You’re not the type.”

Rupert nodded his head in frank agreement. "Damn straight I'm not the type." He turned his gaze to Neena. "Last I checked, you didn't need two arms to wash laundry." He cast a glance to the laundry pool. "It's not as if you can actually clean anything in there, anyway. They still haven't approved my budget for clean water piping into that thing." While it was cold out, the growing murk of the water had been disgusting, but not all that bad. Now that things were getting warm again... Rupert was very afraid of what the first truly warm day was going to do to that water, and the air quality around it.

You know Even James picks up sacks for me. Keep in mind he is picking them up to pile them higher in my arms, but he is picking them up. You’re not the type.”

"Damn straight I'm not the type. Last I checked, you didn't need two arms to wash laundry."

"Only if you have a washing machine, the kind that plugs into the wall." Neena rolled her eyes; obviously he wasn't going to be of any help.

"It's not as if you can actually clean anything in there, anyway. They still haven't approved my budget for clean water piping into that thing."

"This place has a budget? Will wonders never cease." She snorted and reached for the laundry bag she'd dropped. Well, washing was likely out of the question, but she could still fold clean clothes, albeit slowly. And maybe with some fancy footwork she could handle the mangle to. Maybe.

Come to think of it, she really didn't want Rupert snooping about the Laundry Supply Room. He seemed intelligent enough to notice a few things out of place, things she'd rather no one noticed.

"Thanks for you charming company, Boss. You have no idea how wonderfully it's impacted my day. I am fullfilled, and shall gladly return to my scheduled work day."

Well, no one told her she couldn't be sarcastic. Especially not him.

"Honestly? Yes. That seems like the whole point of being a healer. What? Are you a lion who can't handle hunting, too?"

Sara smirked. “Note taken on the hunting.” Perhaps he would see how she handled hunting soon enough. “The point of healing is surviving. I know I can live through more than you.”

Sara’s ears had flicked forward once, but she immediately regretted it as that ipod made the insides feel like they were buzzing. They hastily whipped back so that they were trying to close out all of the annoying things sound. Instead of listening she tried to concentrate on the dirty water and how the foolish guard expected Neena to clean with one hand. Technically it took two to properly agitate the cloths. Sor of like Neena was the left hand and Sara was the right. Rupert was the cloth they were agitating. One on one, the cloth just sort of flipped around and made the water worl. But if the teamed up and really wanted to scrunch the cleansing soap through him, they would be more effective.

One thing Rupert was right about. That water was really, really disgusting. Then her thoughts traveled to what her and Neena had hidden. Making sure James didn’t go wandering was easy but Rupert seemed like he possessed more brains than James… Or was Sara giving him too much credit there…. Sara like to think she wasn’t.

"Thanks for you charming company, Boss. You have no idea how wonderfully it's impacted my day. I am fullfilled, and shall gladly return to my scheduled work day."

Hmmmm…. Sara had to keep her face straight. Beeing that her ears were still hurting her that wasn’t hard. “As will I but you’re not all that great of boss and I don’t feel fulfilled at all.” She swung a fist full of laundry sacks over her back seemingly carelessly close to Rupert as her ever so useful tail counter balanced by wrapping around the back of his knee. Oh look. The laundry pool was behind him. Hopefully close enough.

Like the sang goes. There was more than on way to skin a cat, so there must be more than one way to do this…. What ever it was and where ever Sara was going with it. This was probably going to hurt a lot in a few seconds too, though well worth it.

(Permission was given in the c-box and if you've changed your mind, I can still change this post.)

~ "Thanks for you charming company, Boss. You have no idea how wonderfully it's impacted my day. I am fullfilled, and shall gladly return to my scheduled work day."

Rupert couldn't help it: for a brief second, he flashed a grin Neena's way. Now that woman had a sense of humor he could relate to.

~ “As will I but you’re not all that great of boss and I don’t feel fulfilled at all.”

It's probably because of that grin--and because he was looking the other way--that he didn't even suspect the lioness' actions. One second he was grinning. The next, he was startling just a little bit back because of a moving object in his peripheral vision. Then there was something behind his knee, turning his slight loss of balance into something much more serious.

Then there was a splash, and a taste in his mouth that words could describe only if written upon paper pre-soaked in vomit. Rupert sputtered; he was out of that water almost more quickly than he went in, with a face much like a cat who'd just been hosed down. He rounded on the furred freak, one finger pointed indignantly and his mouth open for a tirade the likes of which the world has never seen.

His iPod sparked, and died.

Rupert went still. Very still. His hand slowly lowered back to his side. His face calmed. "I am going to remember this," he said simply. "Enjoy your day, Ms Nobes."

Quite calmly, Rupert turned, and walked away. A trail of dirty water dripped in his wake. So did a distinct silence were his music had been.

((ooc: Thread, exit!))