“Sleeping here last night was a real help -- thanks for that."

Calley nodded his head, sending the lime green squeaky hedgehog on a quick trip towards his lap. One mini-volleyball serve later, a startled sqwak!, and the extremely engaging little squeaky was arcing back up towards his hair. Catch-wobble-balance: good! Now, reply: “No problem. I don’t mind. And about jobs and stuff—seems kind of silly to be worrying about that right now, don’t you think? Maybe. It’s just that the Antoneyku guy seems willing to put us all up, with food and everything, while we try to run this Resistance gig. So normal jobs don’t exactly need to be high on your list of things to get, I’m thinking.” He tilted his head precariously to the side, and looked at Teresa. “Speaking of which: do you want to go to the place where everybody else is? I know you met Syn ‘n’ all, but I’m guessing since you’re back here, she didn’t take you. I could, if you wanted. I should probably get going there eventually, anyway, what with the not telling anyone last night that I was leaving thing. It’s no problem if you’ve got other plans, though.” Since Syn hadn’t taken her back to the Labs, chances were very good that Syn had her reasons in that. And when Syn had her reasons, other Sanctuarians tended to have orders. It was very possible that the Order’s Daddy didn’t want the Kabal’s Mommy to know about little Teresa, here. If that was the case, well... it was a little late for that.

Sonya can't help but chuckle at Calley's hedgehog-juggling act. She's really not sure if he does it as an intentional distraction, or if that's just the way he rolls... she's beginning to suspect it's a little of both. Either way, it's entertaining to watch.

> “about jobs and stuff [...] the Antoneyku guy seems willing to put
> us all up, with food and everything, while we try to run this Resistance gig.
> Speaking of which: do you want to go to the place where everybody else is?

Last night she'd have agreed in a minute, her primary goal being to make contact with Syn and the rest of the Order... it had been her primary reason for talking to Calley in the first place, really.

This morning, with that goal already achieved and Syn a phone-call away, she hesitates.

For one thing, Syn clearly wanted her gathering info on the outside... otherwise she'd have brought Sonya in last night. Which Sonya was fine with, then, but Calley's offer is nevertheless tempting... being out on her own isn't that much fun, and she'd much rather be surrounded by... well, if not friends, at least friendly acquaintances.

On the other hand, the more she thinks about the situation, the less clever an option living with the Resistance sounds like. "Thanks for the offer... really. I don't know, though... last time I tried to hook up with an arrangement like that I came within a couple of minutes of being rounded up by the Gestapo, you know? And, yeah, this Hunter guy may have managed to keep his group and their hideout secret and special... but now that he's hosting a bunch of mutant refugees how long is that really going to last? The cops have got to know that some mutants escaped their little dragnet operation, and they're going to start looking around. They'll find the new hideout sooner or later."

She shrugs apologetically, still somewhat embarassed by her unwillingness to risk herself for 'the Cause', and adds: "I know, you think I'm a coward. Well, maybe I am, but there's a lot braver and tougher folks than me cooling their heels in the Camps, or worse, so... well, there's worse fates, you know?" Her tone is defensive and argumentative, despite the distinct lack of anyone actually attacking or arguing with her; an attentive listener might easily detect the signs of internal conflict on the matter.

A moment later she deflates and shrugs again, helplessly. "But you're right, it does seem pretty stupid to be worrying about how I'm gonna make a living when we're in the middle of a war. Hell, I don't know." She hesitates again, then adds "Is your cat-sitting offer still open?" Not that she's all that excited about the actual 'cat' part, but it beats spending another night on the street when her current pocket of cash runs out.

Calley noted the hesitation, and kept up the hedgehog juggling. Yep. Teresa was an Order member: or at least, Syn had gotten to her in some way or another. Last night, he thought she seemed really keen on figuring out where everyone is. Today... Heh. That was fine. He learned more from that second’s pause than he probably would have by taking her to Mondragon Labs. The lime green squeaky hedgehog agreed.

"Thanks for the offer... really,” she began. Then she began to list her reasons. Good reasons, practical reasons, reasons based on past experience and emotion and everything from A to Z. The lime green squeaky hedgehog was amused. He nodded in time to Calley’s own nods.

"I know, you think I'm a coward. Well, maybe I am, but there's a lot braver and tougher folks than me cooling their heels in the Camps, or worse, so... well, there's worse fates, you know?"

Heh. Teresa really did have a guilt-complex. Cute. Calley, personally, didn’t bother with them. Yeah, he had been the literal definition of ‘not helpful’ at both the Mansion raid and the Sanctuary raid, and friends, girlfriends, and acquaintances were now incarcerated. But something to really keep in mind: he wouldn’t have been able to do much, anyway. Even if you took the exploding collar out of the equation and returned free and independent will to the picture, Calley still wasn’t a fighter, and honestly, it didn’t take a genius to figure out that if that law passed, something big was going to happen. Both places should have been prepared. They weren’t, and that wasn’t his fault.

We could have helped them prepare. Perhaps having someone point out their blatant idiocy would have aided them in correcting it. We could have provided a list of suggestions, as well. Having escape routes and safe houses planned certainly comes to mind.

Slate, you can’t be growling over pancakes one minute and thinking of the big picture the next.

I see no impediment to doing so.

...Yeah. Go and look up ‘contradiction’ in our memories of that dictionary you read.

To repeat: there wasn’t really anything he could have done. ... Nothing.

"But you're right, it does seem pretty stupid to be worrying about how I'm gonna make a living when we're in the middle of a war. Hell, I don't know. Is your cat-sitting offer still open?"

Calley waits until he’s sure she’s finished, then he begins to list: “Okay, A.) that’s totally fine if you don’t want to go to the Resistance right now. If you change your mind later, you can always come then. No problem. B.) Don’t just... assume what I think.” He didn’t know why, but that bugged him. Honestly, it was a really good thing for people to assume what he was thinking—quite a large part of his future plans relied upon people assuming they had him pegged, actually. But it still bugged him. “C.) ‘Cause I don’t think you’re a coward. There’s bravery, cowardice, and running away, and somewhere in there, there’s a line that defines them. But then you toss in ‘intelligence’ and ‘common sense’, and that line usually moves.”

Calley. You are expressing opinions again.

Crap.

We have discussed this.

Crap. Yeah, sorry. Crap. No opinions, right. Got it.[/i]

“Umm, what I mean is... it was probably smart for you to run. And stuff.”

Anti-climatic, but better.

Thanks. Did you like the ‘And stuff’?

...Yes.

“Okay. So. D.) Stop beating yourself up, and E.)” he grinned, “yeah, the cat-sitting position is still open. Though honestly, the more I think about it, the less sense it makes to bring him back here. I’m pretty sure the friend he’s with won’t just give him to a pound or anything, even if he doesn’t hear from me for awhile. I should probably just leave him there. It’s just... he sometimes doesn’t like new places, much, so I sort of wanted him to be able to stay in the apartment. But it doesn’t really matter all that much. Oh!” He waved his hands. “That’s, ah, not to say that you can’t stay here. I mean, I really won’t be using the place much, so I guess you could, if you wanted to.”

Actually, that would make some of our plans significantly harder. We will have to find a new place to train in peace. I do not trust the lab training rooms—there are far too many prying eyes there, of late.

Not really an issue, Slate. We’ve got money up the wazoo. There’s always a place for someone with money up the wazoo.

Calley's doing that thing again where he seems distracted by something Sonya isn't aware of at all.

She's gotten used to it -- after all, Calley does a lot of weird things, and that is not by any stretch of the imagination the weirdest -- but it catches her attention this time as he stumbles in the middle of his little speech. He seems to be struggling with something, but that's not quite right either... it's more like he's being lectured, and for a moment she wonders if he's wired and reporting to someone via a microphone or something, except it all happens so fast she wonders if she's just imagining it... way too fast for a real conversation.

Anyway, while it's distracting -- rather like the hedgehog-juggling -- it's not distracting enough to let her ignore the lecture he's giving her in return, to which she nods in response. "Yeah... you're probably right. It's just that I'm tired of running away, is all. Maybe it's the smart thing to do, but it sucks, and I'm sick of it."

She shrugs, intending to end the thought there, and is a little startled when her mouth runs on without her. "Not that I'm all that much use in a fight to begin with -- not like you with that tiger-shifting thing, or Abyss, or that crowd -- but I just don't like running away and letting other people deal with the mess. It isn't right." She laughs a little and adds "Also, repeating myself. I really hate repeating myself. Which I'm doing right now. So I'm going to stop. This is me, putting away the little self-pity violin," she suits gesture to word, "and growing up. And, also, this is me appreciating the cat-sitting offer. Especially if it doesn't involve the actual cat. You're sure it's not a problem?"

> "I really won’t be using the place much, so I guess you could, if you wanted to.”

"Oh! No, I don't mean to chase you out of your own apartment, that's ridiculous. Bad enough you slept on the floor last night," although that really hadn't been particularly Sonya's fault, she reminds herself, but still. "I can sleep on the couch, and I really don't take up a lot of space. And I can get scarce if you, you know, want to bring someone home or store kidnapped llamas here or whatever."

Thinking about it another moment she adds, hesitantly, "Um... so, is it OK with Slate, too? I mean, I promise not to touch his pancakes or anything."

Calley applauded her putting away of her self-pity violin, in the most literal sense. The lime green squeaky hedgehog did an unhappy dance across his hair as the clapping made his head move.

“No, you won’t be chasing me out at all—I mean, that’s not what I mean. I just, ah, mean that I’m probably going to be staying where everyone else is, most of the time, except when I randomly sneak away. Like last night. And right now. And yeah...” He grinned sheepishly. “I should definitely be making with the getting back soonish. You’re welcome to sleep on the bed, or the couch, or the floor, or the kitchen counter, or wherever you’re comfortable. Umm, I usually sleep as a tiger, so even if I’m here, the bed isn’t the best fit for me.” He looked a bit more sheepish, and genuinely so, this time. “I like floors. They’re comfortable.” Beds could just get too foofy, sometimes. What was really nice was in the summer, when he could sleep on concrete—especially concrete that was still radiating heat like a baked potato, even though the sun was down. That felt so good against his tummy and the pads of his feet and that little spot under his chin, you can’t even imagine. Yeah, it was about time for him to start being a cat again. Who needed social interaction? It just got you in trouble, mostly. Somewhat nice conversations like he was having with Teresa here were kind of rare.

“I can definitely tell you if I’ve got anything planned that I need the place for, but I don’t really think I will.” He bounced the lime green squeaky hedgehog into the air, and back into his hands. “And Slate doesn’t mind. He really doesn’t mind much of anything, as long as you don’t bug him when he’s focused on something. Like...” I shouldn’t have to feel stupid when I say things like this, Slate. “his perfect... pancakes.”

Your feelings are hardly my concern.

Calley cleared his throat, and stood up. “Anyway, yeah. Should probably be going. There’s a spare key in that first drawer over there.” His pointed. “Is there anything else you need? Oh! And do you have a phone number, or something? I don’t, except for the one here, but I should probably maybe get a cell phone like the rest of the nation, at some point.” He nodded to himself, and began his slow edging towards the door. There actually was something he was supposed to do today, believe it or not. It was even on his list. “And is there anything you’re going to need, or, umm, anything? There’s a lot of food—you can help yourself.”

Thing-to-do Number Thirty-Four: Go antagonize Kaz. Which is to say: ask him to help them learn how to fight. They’d considered going to Abyss, but... Abyss was cool. Kaz, they didn’t respect, so if they screwed up in front of him, it was no big deal.

> "I’m probably going to be staying where everyone else is,
> most of the time, except when I randomly sneak away.
> Like last night. And right now. And yeah... I should definitely
> be making with the getting back soonish."

That sets off alarm bells in Sonya's mind, and makes her suddenly glad she hadn't ended up with the Resistance after all. Any facility one has to "sneak away" from is a little too, er, "structured" for her current lifestyle. I wonder what Hunter and Syn's real story is, she thinks skeptically... the more she thinks about the situation, the more reasonable her earlier concern seems. His group is the only one to avoid the dragnet, and now all the escaped mutants are checked into his little Mutant Hotel and not checking out... well, except for Syn. Sounds iffy... how do we know he isn't behind the whole thing, right?

Her mildly paranoid ruminations distract her from Calley's explanation of his preferred sleeping habits, but she nods agreeably just the same. "Well, OK, if you're sure... thanks."

> "Oh! And do you have a phone number, or something? I don’t, except for the one
> here, but I should probably maybe get a cell phone like the rest of the nation, at some point."

Sonya nods, pointing to the piece of paper still on the kitchen table where she'd left her number during their previous misunderstanding, and making a note never to give that number when she's not "Teresa." She gets the key from the drawer Calley indicated. "So, I don't want to keep you... and no, I don't think I'll need anything else, you've already done plenty. Go do whatever it is you need to do... have fun, don't get killed. And tell Slate, um, that his pancakes were admirably round." She waves, affecting a confidence she doesn't entirely feel.

“And tell Slate, um, that his pancakes were admirably round.”

Calley flashed a grin as he edged ever closer to the door. “No, no—the right thing to say is ‘Slate, while your pancakes were admirably round, their golden-brown shade was different from one side to the next.’”

...I hate you.

Hate you too, voice-in-my-head.

He scooped the cell phone number up on his way, and with a final wave, made it out the door.

Okay. So now... it’s time to see Kaz, right?

Unfortunately.

Hey, why did she say that ‘don’t get killed’ line?

Because she knows not how appropriate those words are.

That’s not actually a reason, Slate.

No: it is a fact.

Eh. True, dat.

((ooc: Continued in “A truly well-thought-out idea”.))

Missing: Two llamas
Suspects: The llama kidnappers
Reward for their return: Two llama kisses