Schrödinger couldn’t quite work out why he couldn’t lick his new master. He had met a lot of different creatures over the past year but not only did his new master have no fingers but he also lacked skin, he could feel absolutely nothing under his rough little tongue. He felt like he just lapped at air and something that tasted like death. A bit like the rotting mouse he’d eaten on that planet last night.
At least he had thought it was a mouse, it was certainly something similar.
He couldn’t rub himself on his master’s legs because his master had no legs, but he could wonder around the flaps of his cloak, the material floating around and over his orange fur. At first his master had resisted such a move but had warmed to the affection he was trying to offer. When he had first been transported to his new home, under the arms of a very solid man his old master had referred to as Tanith, he had been locked in a small room and was forced to live in his own filth and go hungry-ish until someone figured out how to care for him. Though, if they had just let him out of the room he could’ve looked after himself. The years with his old master had taught him to be self-sufficient, something he hadn’t needed with his original mistress.
He missed her a little. She had fingers. She could pet him.
Not that he didn’t receive any fuss - the occasional pat from a passing Jaffa was enough to get him by. A few had figured out that he liked to be scratched just behind his left ear (but not the right) but others still petted him a little too hard. He’d almost been floored by quiet a few heavy hands. Some were wary after the incident with the one called Tal’e. (Schrödinger remembered the booming sound of the name from his master, echoing around the walls of his strange orange home). He had been caught squatting down and stroking him, something he had been enjoying, when his master came along shouting, yelling, his very voice vibrating across the wall and floor.
Schrödinger too was wary after that.
He had enjoyed his comfy life with his mistress. She had been sweet and he had been fat but there was something interesting and almost exciting about hunting strange new creatures on his old master's world. The delight Narim had for him was a wonder too, and he was never scooped out of the man's lap. He was well fed and every month taken to be cleaned, preened and well presented. He had more attention in those first few months with Narim than he had had in his entire life, and his mistress had been a very tactile human.
The fire and explosions and fear had been horrible. His world was crumbling around him and he wasn’t sure where to go. He hadn’t really ventured out of the small city and into the wilderness that surrounded. He wasn’t sure what creatures or people were out there and if they would be edible like mice or dangerous like dogs. He had been safe in Narim’s world, a little white haven, a cocoon almost. It had been like a dream, a weird dream but still safe and warm and loving.
Now it was loud and dangerous and bright red hot flames of anger. With his master stood in the very middle of it all, and his old mistress no where to be seen. He had realized only reprieve would be outside the city, away from the red, orange, loud noise and people dying.
He ran away, wishing he hadn’t eaten so many of Narim’s strange leftovers and trying to get his furry little legs move faster when he was lifted into the air and was suddenly facing a dark haired man sporting a horrible sneer of a smile and gripping him for to tightly.
He hated his new home at first, the mother-ship (though, he never saw anyone’s mother, or even any females), the fire that lit the corridors gave him nightmares, the dark brooding men made the atmosphere depressing and he just wanted to get back out into the open air to chase mice (or the local equivalent).
His break had come when the entire ship had been rocked, the lights flickering out and the pounding of feet surrounded his little room. The door opened up, he was free.
He had scampered out of the room and into the corridor to find himself in danger again as heavy feet created a maze in which he could easily trampled. Then he had found himself in a room with his with his new master, the view obscene and confusing but the attention he received later had been interesting.
The whispers around his home had suggested his new master has lost some of his mind when he ascended or descended or resecended. Something about sends….but Schrödinger didn’t care much for their whispers; he had found a new master, despite a lack of physical presence that let him sit next to him while he rained fire and brimstone down onto other worlds.
Not that he approved of what he had done to his old home, and master certainly didn’t have anything nice to say about his old mistress, but when survival and self preservation depended on others, his new master was a good person to stick with. He was the one that ended the lives of others. He had seen Jaffa drop to the floor and hauled away without a word from his master. He was the only constant, so many other people came and went, so many Jaffa, died and fell and disappeared, but his master was always around, floating around the big room with the big chairs and the obscene view of everything. Even though most of the time everything was a dark navy colour.
Interesting. The sky got darker the higher up you got, he supposed. Not that it mattered. He was fed and fussed and had sat and watched as a ship and after ship after ship blew up in quick succession one day. His master had been very happy that day, something about attaining the power of the universe. Maybe some kind of computer, as he had heard his old mistress talk about the universe a lot while sitting at the silver thing on her desk, her fingers working fast.
He had seen more than most cats and he knew that. He doubted Tibbles at Number 476 or Fluffy on Evergreen had ever seen the destruction of a planet. His master had assured him in private that he wouldn’t have liked the planet, ‘Abidos‘, too much sand. Schrödinger wasn’t too sure, he didn’t know what sand was but had found his master wasn’t a man you disagreed with (he seen the proof being dragged away once or twice).
He realized that as a cat, he couldn’t really get much more out of like now he had settled into the mother-ship. Though it would be nice if his master had fingers to lick and maybe some of the tuna cat food his mistress used to serve.
Milk, he missed milk as well, though he hadn’t had stomach cramps for a very long time. This meant his mistress had been right, milk wasn’t good for him. Shame.
That was all in the past however and Anubis was his future. Of all the things he had seen and done over the past few years life on a mother-ship felt positively normal. At least he never had to have his molecules messed with again like when Narim had first taken him home. The pool of blue they had walked through had looked like a bath but had been much, much worse. But now he had a master who realized he could clean himself and that water was for drinking.
If you had a physical body that is.
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(Some Of) The Adventures Of Shrodinger The Cat
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