Giles is already waiting when Dimitri arrives. Or, well, he isn't. But he appears as soon as Dimitri enters the library, shadows unfurling around him as he steps out of thin air. He nods in greeting, but won't be the first to speak.
Dimitri? Who's Dimitri? Nobody here by that name. Just a fluffy orange cat, not quite running, but trotting at speed without concern for dignity or affectation. It meows loudly at the sight of Giles, and wastes no time in rubbing up against his shins with a surprising amount of force.
Ah, so 'we don't have to talk' was for Dimitri's sake, not his own.
Giles smiles just a little, kneeling down to pat it gently. "It's alright, I'm not going anywhere." he whispers, scratching behind the cat's ear, trying to find the spot he knows from personal experience is juust right.
Ah yes. That's the good shit. The cat braces its front paws on Giles's leg, the better to shove its head into his hand.
(It's for both their sakes. Dimitri has questions, but he doubts Giles wants to be asked any more than Dimitri wants to hear the answers. The last thing either of them need is for Dimitri to unload all those questions in yet another fit of sobbing hysteria. The cat still radiates terror, and there's a desperate urgency to the roll of its purring -- I'm here, I love you, don't leave me -- but it's muffled. Simpler.)
He'd thought about shifting to match — partly because the corner of his mind that wont stop turning wonders if a person transformed into a cat by means other than a Contract would fulfil the parameters of his own Contract's loophole, assuming a cruise ship counts as part of the natural habitat of a domestic cat (if anywhere truly counts, that is) — but the fear hanging in the air is what stops him. Sometimes what's needed is to be held by someone a lot larger, why else does he keep doing this same thing, after all?
So Giles scoops the cat up, still giving little scritches behind the ear and whispering quiet words of comfort, and carries it over to one of the couches.
There's not much room for the cat to purr any louder, but it manages. It tucks its paws up and butts its head against Giles's cheek --
-- there's no? Smell?
Dimitri's sense of smell is fairly sharp even as a human, and of his senses it's the one he trusts the most. Cat-shaped, it's even more acute. It's never lied to him about the dead, so why does Giles smell blank? And why can't Dimitri remember what he should smell like? Someone is holding Dimitri, and if it isn't Giles, who is it?
The purring cuts off with a nervous "Rrow?" The cat squirms, pawing at Giles's shoulder.
Once they're fully settled on the couch, Giles lets go of the squirming cat. Still patting, but allowing a very easy exit if Dimitri needs it.
"I know I don't smell quite real, but I promise it's still me, Dimitri. I was designed to be... unobtrusive." He pauses, before continuing a lot quieter, "It would be unseemly for a servant to draw undue attention, and odour cannot be voluntarily suppressed."
Even Giles isn't immune to the fact that animals are a lot easier to talk to, despite him using his cat form for that very reason.
Animals are easier to talk to because there's less expectation of judgment, or comprehension. In Dimitri's case that's even mostly true. The cat's grasp of language is partial, and Dimitri's memories when he reverts are hazy and fragmented. The cat understands that it's receiving an explanation, that the explanation is meant to reassure, and that the thing being explained is a source of grief.
The cat butts its head against Giles's chin, then settles back down across his lap. Its purring resumes, less desperate, only rumbling and constant.
"There you are," Giles says softly, "You're alright, everyone is safe."
It's grounding, in a way he hadn't expected, to focus on soft fur beneath his fingers, on the gentle rumbling of a cat's purr. It shouldn't be surprising, he knows the value of a therapy animal lies in that as much as it does anything else. After all, why else does Mr Ainsel join when Ossie dons the role of Blackbird Bishop? But for all that, he hasn't been on this side of the equation in a long while.
So he wont be moving from this spot any time soon.
It would be impolite to shift Dimitri before he's ready anyway.
It'll be a while. Dimitri's soothed, secure, for the first time in weeks, and down crashes a wave of exhaustion that's been building since the ship emptied.
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ring_for_giles) wrote2022-06-15 11:23 am
no subject
My apologies, Dimitri, I was indisposed
Read: spent the entire day as a cat, vaguely contemplating never changing back.
I have returned and am quite well. You needn't worry after me.
He knows that won't necessarily help, but he can't truthfully provide much more without causing more concern.
no subject
Thank you.
It's good to hear from you.
May I see you.
We don't have to talk but.
The text interfaith interred face ants race.
The screen.
Is hard to believe.
no subject
Where would you prefer to meet?
no subject
It may as well be tradition at this point.
Dimitri's ridden out enough meltdowns there that it's wrapped around to feeling preemptively soothing.
no subject
Giles is already waiting when Dimitri arrives. Or, well, he isn't. But he appears as soon as Dimitri enters the library, shadows unfurling around him as he steps out of thin air. He nods in greeting, but won't be the first to speak.
no subject
Sorry about the cat hair. Stress.
no subject
Giles smiles just a little, kneeling down to pat it gently. "It's alright, I'm not going anywhere." he whispers, scratching behind the cat's ear, trying to find the spot he knows from personal experience is juust right.
no subject
Ah yes. That's the good shit. The cat braces its front paws on Giles's leg, the better to shove its head into his hand.
(It's for both their sakes. Dimitri has questions, but he doubts Giles wants to be asked any more than Dimitri wants to hear the answers. The last thing either of them need is for Dimitri to unload all those questions in yet another fit of sobbing hysteria. The cat still radiates terror, and there's a desperate urgency to the roll of its purring -- I'm here, I love you, don't leave me -- but it's muffled. Simpler.)
no subject
So Giles scoops the cat up, still giving little scritches behind the ear and whispering quiet words of comfort, and carries it over to one of the couches.
no subject
-- there's no? Smell?
Dimitri's sense of smell is fairly sharp even as a human, and of his senses it's the one he trusts the most. Cat-shaped, it's even more acute. It's never lied to him about the dead, so why does Giles smell blank? And why can't Dimitri remember what he should smell like? Someone is holding Dimitri, and if it isn't Giles, who is it?
The purring cuts off with a nervous "Rrow?" The cat squirms, pawing at Giles's shoulder.
no subject
"I know I don't smell quite real, but I promise it's still me, Dimitri. I was designed to be... unobtrusive." He pauses, before continuing a lot quieter, "It would be unseemly for a servant to draw undue attention, and odour cannot be voluntarily suppressed."
Even Giles isn't immune to the fact that animals are a lot easier to talk to, despite him using his cat form for that very reason.
no subject
The cat butts its head against Giles's chin, then settles back down across his lap. Its purring resumes, less desperate, only rumbling and constant.
no subject
It's grounding, in a way he hadn't expected, to focus on soft fur beneath his fingers, on the gentle rumbling of a cat's purr. It shouldn't be surprising, he knows the value of a therapy animal lies in that as much as it does anything else. After all, why else does Mr Ainsel join when Ossie dons the role of Blackbird Bishop? But for all that, he hasn't been on this side of the equation in a long while.
So he wont be moving from this spot any time soon.
It would be impolite to shift Dimitri before he's ready anyway.
[wrap]
He sleeps.