Prison Break - Marilyn’s Chronicles: Sorority
Title: Marilyn’s Chronicles: Sorority
Author: clair-de-lune
Character: Sara
Genre: Gen
Rating: G
Words: ~ 540
Disclaimer: Not mine. Just borrowing them for a while.
Summary: There are not a lot of females in there, and she feels quite a connection with her.
Notes: Thanks to torigates for her help with the translation.
Previous chronicles
There are not a lot of females in there, and she feels quite a connection with her. But she has to admit that every now and then, she’s a bit jealous of her. When she realizes that Charles and his fellow human beings (the ones she has a bit of affection for; she doesn’t really care about the others) go and see Sara to be taken care of, listened and even comforted. As if she wasn’t able to listen and soothe them. As if she hasn’t spent days and nights, summers and winters listening to Charles talking about his life, his daughter, the reasons why he’s inside these walls. As if she wasn’t able to help him feeling better when she purrs at just the right moment, rubs her head against his or affectionately blinks at him.
No really. Sometimes, Sara trespasses on her territory, and Marilyn doesn’t like that.
She likes even less that Sara doesn’t need her to be listened and comforted. Because Sara doesn’t confide to her (and yet Marilyn sees and hears things, things that Sara doesn’t necessarily want people to see and hear...). On the other hand, it’s right, Sara delivers more than her share of caresses and compliments when they cross path. And Marilyn acknowledges that the soft skin of Sara’s cheeks and hands, when Sara kisses her between her ears or strokes her sides, is a nice change from Charles’ rough touch.
She tells herself that, actually, there’s a certain rivalry between the two of them; Sara is just a bit too much like her and Marilyn can’t give her all the affection she does deserve. Damn, even their respective hair is equally sumptuous, neatly taken care of and praise worthy...
She often feels compassion for her. For them. They’re alike in so far as they’re here, but in the periphery, present but not able nor willing to merge in. They can heal, listen to and soothe them, but they can’t help what lead to the necessity to be healed, listened and soothed. They have to handle the consequences and can’t do anything to cure the causes. They’re so useful and totally helpless at the same time.
And every now and then, she’s scared for her. She is terrified that day too, flattened into a pipe while all hell breaks lose around them. She sees her locked all by herself in this small room, she hears her hissing breath and, even from the distance, she smells her fear. She wishes she can do something to help her but obviously, she isn’t cut out for that. It happens sometimes, those bursts of so human anger and violence. They’re the only things that really frighten her beyond words because she doesn’t understand them and she knows that, in those moments, even she is not safe.
Sara isn’t either. But Sara breaks a pane of glass and retrieves a long, sharp piece. She huddles up, ready to jump, and Marilyn thinks that if Humans could move their ears like she can, Sara’s would be plastered to her skull; she would show her teeth in a warning grimace, a hissing, warning sound coming up from her throat.
Rrrr. In moments like these, she definitely has admiration for her flair.
-End-
End notes: This was the last of Marylin's Chronicles. Thanks for reading.
Marilyn being the attention seeking cat she is, she obvisouly loves comments.
Author: clair-de-lune
Character: Sara
Genre: Gen
Rating: G
Words: ~ 540
Disclaimer: Not mine. Just borrowing them for a while.
Summary: There are not a lot of females in there, and she feels quite a connection with her.
Notes: Thanks to torigates for her help with the translation.
Previous chronicles
There are not a lot of females in there, and she feels quite a connection with her. But she has to admit that every now and then, she’s a bit jealous of her. When she realizes that Charles and his fellow human beings (the ones she has a bit of affection for; she doesn’t really care about the others) go and see Sara to be taken care of, listened and even comforted. As if she wasn’t able to listen and soothe them. As if she hasn’t spent days and nights, summers and winters listening to Charles talking about his life, his daughter, the reasons why he’s inside these walls. As if she wasn’t able to help him feeling better when she purrs at just the right moment, rubs her head against his or affectionately blinks at him.
No really. Sometimes, Sara trespasses on her territory, and Marilyn doesn’t like that.
She likes even less that Sara doesn’t need her to be listened and comforted. Because Sara doesn’t confide to her (and yet Marilyn sees and hears things, things that Sara doesn’t necessarily want people to see and hear...). On the other hand, it’s right, Sara delivers more than her share of caresses and compliments when they cross path. And Marilyn acknowledges that the soft skin of Sara’s cheeks and hands, when Sara kisses her between her ears or strokes her sides, is a nice change from Charles’ rough touch.
She tells herself that, actually, there’s a certain rivalry between the two of them; Sara is just a bit too much like her and Marilyn can’t give her all the affection she does deserve. Damn, even their respective hair is equally sumptuous, neatly taken care of and praise worthy...
She often feels compassion for her. For them. They’re alike in so far as they’re here, but in the periphery, present but not able nor willing to merge in. They can heal, listen to and soothe them, but they can’t help what lead to the necessity to be healed, listened and soothed. They have to handle the consequences and can’t do anything to cure the causes. They’re so useful and totally helpless at the same time.
And every now and then, she’s scared for her. She is terrified that day too, flattened into a pipe while all hell breaks lose around them. She sees her locked all by herself in this small room, she hears her hissing breath and, even from the distance, she smells her fear. She wishes she can do something to help her but obviously, she isn’t cut out for that. It happens sometimes, those bursts of so human anger and violence. They’re the only things that really frighten her beyond words because she doesn’t understand them and she knows that, in those moments, even she is not safe.
Sara isn’t either. But Sara breaks a pane of glass and retrieves a long, sharp piece. She huddles up, ready to jump, and Marilyn thinks that if Humans could move their ears like she can, Sara’s would be plastered to her skull; she would show her teeth in a warning grimace, a hissing, warning sound coming up from her throat.
Rrrr. In moments like these, she definitely has admiration for her flair.
-End-
End notes: This was the last of Marylin's Chronicles. Thanks for reading.
Marilyn being the attention seeking cat she is, she obvisouly loves comments.