the tar cat on the magellan circles around the porter's legs as he makes his way onto the ship, back from another late night delivery, smelling of chiralium, tar &. blood. &. yet the cat does not mind, instead flapping it's wings &. mrrping at him, rubbing it's head at the ankles of the porter's clothes. the cat has taken to sleeping with him whenever he came aboard the magellan, sleeping by his feet, head or even beneath the bed, wherever it sought fit. the tar cat knew the man's schedule, never showering before going to bed, always going to strip &. immediately sleeping within his private room. which is why the cat follows after him, trotting behind sam.
as the magellan lowers in its tar pool, bay door steadily opening to bathe sam in the glow of the interior, he's not surprised to find the tar cat waiting for him. its become an odd ritual of late — unsure of how he managed to garner the attention of the little creature, sam has accepted his fate as its designated person of choice for the meantime, & oddly enough the porter doesn't mind the company. ❝ you didn't have to wait up, ❞ sam says, eyes flicking down to the creature rubbing against his pant leg. ( he's still unsure of how tarman came to possess such a creature in the ship. ) sam waits until the cat is a few steps away from him to stomp his boots on the ground, rid himself of any clinging dust — or what he can easily get rid of — before he's making his way to the elevator.
with new rituals comes old ones & sam doesn't hesitate in beginning to strip himself of his gear. backpack hung up before anything else before he's toeing off his boots. ( he'll need to get a new pair soon. his heels are killing him in those now. ) so follows his porter suit before he's in his undershirt & briefs; sam makes his way to the sink in his quarters to quickly splash water on his face, wipe the back of his neck & feel relatively human again. all the while he knows the cat is waiting for him to climb onto his bed. luckily, sam has no intention of keeping either of them waiting.
with a groan he plops onto his back on the mattress, hands coming to fold across his chest. the minute bounce of the mattress alerts him to the tar cat's presence & how tonight its deigned to sleep by his head. shutting his eyes, his jaw cracks with a yawn before he's settling down for the night — sleep creeping into his bones all but instantaneously.
