Chapter #3Strange Device by: Unknown “You're missing the point!” The possum complained. “If you’re destroyed, but your molecules are reconstituted exactly somewhere else, is that the real you?”
Spending most of their days out on the street, far from the distractions of modern life, Ora and her friends have to entertain herself by discussing increasingly pointless topics. Currently, she has found herself debating Star Trek for some reason, despite having never watched it in her life. Ora takes one last drag on her cigarette before retorting. "No, the copy isn't the real you, because the real you is dead. Bam!" She said absentmindedly, dropping the spent butt and stomping on it with her black leather boots. "Man, these philosophical conundrums are really easy to solve. I should be, like... a professor or somethin’..."
Ora turns to her friend Sonya Adams, a scrawny little possum with only one good eye. She may be a bit boring, but she comes from a similarly ‘humble’ background. “Yeah, well, tell that to Derek Parfit,” Sonya shrugged. Ora smirked as she leaned up against the wall, enjoying the morning breeze rolling over her fur. She’s wearing the same things she always wears; a thick, gray hoodie, and similarly bland, torn-up jeans. Every outfit she has, she’s owned for years, and they’ve all gone through an incredible amount of wear-and-tear by now, barely protecting her from the elements. Technically, she’s supposed to be in school right now, but it’s not exactly uncommon for that to ‘slip her mind’. Especially given her complete lack of accountability.
Her current foster parents... she can’t even remember their names. Her dad’s Samuel, and his wife’s…. Rose, or something? Does it really even matter? Point is, they only took her in for the tax credit, and couldn’t be arsed to care about what kind of trouble Ora got herself into. She just stops by their house a few times a day to eat their food and sleep on their couch. Beyond that, she was on her own… and she kind of liked that. She liked to feel that she was in charge of her own life, like she could go anywhere and do anything she wanted. It helps that nobody cares enough to bother stopping her, though she’d had some close calls after harmlessly messing with the richer furs in class.
The sheltered brats tend to have powerful parents that go crazy when somebody messes with their ‘little angels’. Still, Ora finds ways to screw with them however she can. They all have big fancy houses, an endless supply of gaudy overpriced clothes, and trust funds and prestigious colleges waiting for them when they graduate… and what did they do to deserve any of it? Nothing! They’re the laziest people she’s ever met. Ora gets angry just thinking about it. While there’s not much she can do, she has pledged to make their lives as worse as possible, however she can…
Ora and Sonya hung out in the alleyway for hours, blathering about the kinds of inconsequential topics only bored teenagers can. Eventually, they notice the sun was about to go down, and Ora sighs. Seems like it’s time to make preparations for the night. “So… think I could hang out at your house tonight?” She asks, idly. Ora didn’t like relying on other people, but anything was better than sleeping at her foster parent’s dumpy little shack they call a home. Sonya grimaced at the question.
"I… don’t know if you should…" The possum says, almost whispering, avoiding eye contact. "My mom keeps saying you’re a… ‘negative influence’..."
“Well, she’s probably right!” Ora laughs, jabbing her in the side. “But so what? We hung out all day. What’s the harm in me sleeping over?” Sonya rubs her arm awkwardly, wincing at the raccoon's pestering. She’s well aware that Ora can be very… persistent, when it comes to getting something she wants. With a sigh, she relented.
"Alright, I’ll see what I can do…”
┅┅┅
Ora would wake up the following morning curled up on Sonya’s ratty bed, with only faint memories of the previous night. She sat up and stretched at the ringing of the alarm, weakly rubbing the sleep from her eyes. What time is it? Six? The two of them must’ve been up playing video games until at least three. Her mind still foggy with exhaustion, she looks around Sonya’s tiny room and noticed they’d made quite a mess, cans of soda and candy wrappers sprawled across the floor. The raccoon lays a hand on the spot in the bed where Sonya was sleeping, only to notice it’s empty. Her eyes darted around the room, realizing that she’s alone. Where could Sonya have run off to, at this hour?
Curiously, she climbs out of bed and creeps over to the door, only to hear a familiar sound booming from downstairs. Sonya’s mother was yelling at her, and she sounded furious. “You lied to me! You said you were in class yesterday!” The usually mild-mannered woman was practically screaming. “And now your teacher tells me you’ve skipped school five times this month! What is going on with you?” Ora rolls her eyes, knowing the frantic mother is just overreacting. Still, she feels a little guilty. Sonya sounds like she’s crying down there. Unable to listen any longer, she slides the door shut, and goes to work cleaning Sonya’s room, removing any evidence she was even there.
She spends the morning getting ready, changing out of her pajamas and donning one of Sonya’s clean outfits -- hopefully she doesn’t mind -- before reluctantly padding down the stairs. She sneaks quickly out the door, not wanting to be spotted, before waiting for Sonya outside. Eventually, the possum girl sulks miserably out the front door, the fur on her face matted, looking like she’d been crying. Sonya stares silently at the ground as the two of them walk to school, and Ora quietly watches the sunrise, unable to bring herself to say anything.
They split up when they made it there; Sonya heading for her classes, while Ora has something different in mind. She still felt terrible for what’s been happening. She has to make it up to Sonya somehow! She loitered around, trying to come up with ideas, until she noticed a couple of the rich kids fiddling excitedly with some new, overpriced gadget. Of course! Whatever they have, it must be incredibly expensive, since even they seem to be excited about it. All Ora had to do was snatch it -- whatever it is -- and she would have the perfect gift for her possum friend.
She snuck up behind the two of them, gliding silently through the bushes, quickly recognizing the two students; Elena Farmer, a doe in a pink turtleneck sweater, and her boyfriend Brett Douglas, a hyena in a leather jacket. The couple was a few years older, but remarkably unobservant; Ora was able to sneak up right behind the doe and snatch the device right out of her hands. "Yoink!" She yells, startling the couple, before sprinting away on all fours, laughing as she flees with the strange device.
“H-hey! You give that back!” The buff hyena loudly demanded, but he quickly lost track of the racoon as she darted away. Ora is practically rolling on the ground laughing by the time she collapses against the other side of the building, victorious.
"Okay, that was awesome," she smiles to herself, regaining her composure. "Now let’s see the loot!” She finally looks down at the fancy device she’s stolen, noticing that it resembles some kind of...  indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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