Cissie hasn't been sleeping very well. Sharing a cabin with Tim is strange and taking some getting used to, especially given his sleep schedule--or lack thereof. Waking up and finding herself alone in the cabin is unnerving. If she was smart, she'd roll over and make herself go back to sleep, but she can't and lying awake in bed (again) doesn't appeal to her in the slightest.
She goes for a walk; she's not going anywhere in particular or looking for anyone, she just hopes that maybe she'll wear herself out enough to crash when she finally goes back to bed.
Murphy is starting to doze off when she hears someone nearby. She straightens, listens, and then eases upright, watching Cissie for a second before she whistles softly.
Cissie nearly starts at that whistle, but recovers quickly, turning toward Murphy's voice. She spots her against the tree and smiles, moving closer, sticking her hands in her pockets. "They're fine. How about you? The tree's more comfortable?"
"The tree is quieter. My cabinmate snores." Not technically true, but it's better than the real reason she's out here. "First week jitters or something? Believe it or not, it gets almost routine."
She gives a little snort of amusement at the snoring comment; somehow she doubts that's the real issue, but she doesn't know Murphy well enough to push it--yet. "Or something," she says with a shrug.
The disturbing thing is that this constant state of alarm and weird monsters and jaguars made out of metal is all more routine than she likes. Not these things specifically, but once upon a time in another life, she rode a flying motorcycle to India to battle Kali and keep her from brainwashing children with Saturday morning cartoons. And the less said about the intergalactic baseball fiasco, the better. The thing she's not acknowledging is that it's everything in between then and now that's felt off somehow.
She's worked too hard to pretend she's happy and used to a "normal" life to even let that kind of thinking articulate itself.
"Almost routine?" she repeats, focusing on Murphy's words instead. "I'm not sure if I want to know what's out of the ordinary around here, then."
"One of the local leaders threw a party a couple of months ago," she says. "Then there's the carnival and the kidnappings. I lost two weeks of time during one of mine."
Yeah, she really didn't want to know. Except that she needs to know this stuff. They all do. Kidnappings and losing weeks? How does a person lose a week? She's about to ask when Murphy makes that last comment, and her brain kind of stutters to a stop.
Her and Tim? As in and and? Or just and? How many ways were there to interpret that question? "Tim? We used to go to summer camp together."
Cissie shrugs, not at all realizing that she's probably walking right into some kind of interrogation trap. "It was pretty big on team building," she says. Which is not technically a lie, if you ignore the camp part. "We kept in touch for a while." ...Not that she's bitter about how that turned out.
"For a while? What happened?" She keeps her voice mild, even when she answers Cissie's question. "The fairies in the woods. They... have a habit of taking an interest in people."
Cissie looks down at the ground in front of her feet for a second, considering her answer. That question brings up a lot of unresolved issues, and while she keeps her expression even, her body tenses. "Life happened?" she says finally, looking up and giving a somewhat tight smile. "His dad died and he left the country for like a year with Bruce. Just--time and distance, you know? Even before that, he was in Gotham, I was in Pennsylvania. E-mail's great, but not perfect." She shrugs, trying to pass it off as no big deal. Tim's not the only one she's lost contact with over the years, and at least they're reconnecting now.
And, well. That's kind of alarming. "...Mildly innocent interest or creepy lock-you-in-the-basement stalker-type interest?"
Murphy decides to let that particular line of questioning go for the time being. There's touchy business there, which is information enough on its own.
For the moment.
Besides, this girl reminds her of Molly a little bit. "Both. Mostly the latter. The Star Wolf built this place as a safeguard, so none of them can... come inside the walls."
Murphy grimaces. She doesn't even know who the Star Wolf is, but knowing the name is enough to leave a bad taste in her mouth.
Cissie is more than happy to move on to this new topic of conversation. Even if it's making about as much sense as can be expected. Which is very little. "The Star Wolf? What is that? It sounds like something out of a science fiction movie or something."
"No idea," Murphy says. She shrugs and drags herself up to sit on one of the tall roots. "There's a lot here that sounds like it belongs in a movie. Or a really bad teen fantasy novel. I'm guessing from the fact that she built this place that she isn't as bad as most of the fairies we've met."
She goes for a walk; she's not going anywhere in particular or looking for anyone, she just hopes that maybe she'll wear herself out enough to crash when she finally goes back to bed.
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"Hey. Camp beds not agreeing with you?"
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The disturbing thing is that this constant state of alarm and weird monsters and jaguars made out of metal is all more routine than she likes. Not these things specifically, but once upon a time in another life, she rode a flying motorcycle to India to battle Kali and keep her from brainwashing children with Saturday morning cartoons. And the less said about the intergalactic baseball fiasco, the better. The thing she's not acknowledging is that it's everything in between then and now that's felt off somehow.
She's worked too hard to pretend she's happy and used to a "normal" life to even let that kind of thinking articulate itself.
"Almost routine?" she repeats, focusing on Murphy's words instead. "I'm not sure if I want to know what's out of the ordinary around here, then."
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Murphy studies the girl. "So you and Tim."
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Her and Tim? As in and and? Or just and? How many ways were there to interpret that question? "Tim? We used to go to summer camp together."
...Where 'summer camp' is code for 'fight crime.'
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Murphy is almost, almost sorry. The faces Cissie is making are kind of amusing, but that's not really why she's setting this up.
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"What did you mean about kidnappings?"
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And, well. That's kind of alarming. "...Mildly innocent interest or creepy lock-you-in-the-basement stalker-type interest?"
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For the moment.
Besides, this girl reminds her of Molly a little bit. "Both. Mostly the latter. The Star Wolf built this place as a safeguard, so none of them can... come inside the walls."
Murphy grimaces. She doesn't even know who the Star Wolf is, but knowing the name is enough to leave a bad taste in her mouth.
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