Chapter Text
Jimmy was lounging in a solo world he'd made years ago. He didn't exactly have any plans at the moment; since him and his friends had been freed from the life games, there hadn't been much of a reason to call them up.
He flipped through the old files he had of the series loaded on his communicator, plus the more recent ones where he wanted to just have fun with his friends. Games, unique worlds, challenges...
He sighed, struck by familiar boredom. Just like all of his friends, he was practically ageless and had an infinite amount of time to do quite literally whatever he wanted.
"Norman, this is what everyone calls choice paralysis." Jimmy said as he snuggled his cat closer. Having tamed the cat, it enjoyed the same immortality he did, so long as this world remained intact.
"Mao." Norman replied, helpfully.
"You wouldn't get it. I'll bet you don't even know how many centuries you've lived." Jimmy said with a huff. Norman purred and settled into a loaf position. Jimmy, also keen on that sort of relaxation, flopped on his mattress next to Norman, face-down. His cat was barely bothered by his dramatics.
To be fair, Jimmy did this on a frequent basis. Think, fail to come up with ideas, talk to his cat, moan and complain about it, and inevitably call up a friend. In the past, before the life games, he would sprawl out on his back with his arms and legs splayed in every direction. After the games, he had his wings to worry about squishing.
He didn't mind them, per se. They looked neat and the yellow went surprisingly well with his usual style. But they were cumbersome and hard to get used to, along with the tailfeathers that had been slowly making themselves known. He had no clue how Grian managed his wings which were a decent amount bigger than Jimmy's little canary wings. It might have made up for getting them in the first place if Jimmy could actually fly. But no. Of course he couldn't, because that would be too easy.
Ugh, stupid Watchers and their sick sense of humor.
"Mao." Norman said. Without looking, Jimmy reached up a hand to clumsily pet Norman while his face remained buried in the sheets.
"Mao."
"You're talkative today. What's up, big man?" Jimmy asked, finally picking his head up.
"Maaaao."
"You've gotta show me if you want something."
"Mrr." Norman did not get up, but shuffled over until he was right next to Jimmy's head and started to promptly groom his hair and feathers.
"Thanks, big man."
"Mrrr."
So Jimmy laid there, bored out of his mind, no ideas for new games, facedown in his mattress, while his hair was being methodically re-styled by his cat.
...Maybe it was time to move on to the next stage of the cycle and call a friend. Maybe... Grian? Hadn't seen him in a while.