“Look, on the bright side, sis, you’re immortal now at least?” She’s trying to make a joke, but her tone is more than sympathetic, and her embrace is familial. You feel warm in her arms, even if you know how recent this is. “But yeah, you’re stuck here, forever, as a catgirl carnival worker. I sort of lost track a long time ago, but it’s been….a while, probably.”
“But why me?” You ask, confused and uncertain, existential dread and horror threatening to overwhelm you as you cower into your sister’s embrace. She’s helping keep you from collapsing, really the only thing. You still feel that bliss and one-ness with the cosmos that you had going on earlier, but it’s fighting a losing battle against the harsher feelings of terror.
She shakes her head, mrrring. “Honestly, ‘m not sure. The Carnival takes new ‘carnies’ at random and it’s never many. Like, if you hadn’t been the ‘one’, you’d have ended up a catgirl for a bit, hated it, kissed like, two people, and then you’d have turned back when I returned and blamed the whole thing on bad carnival food.” She shrugs with you in her arms, one hand snaking up to begin petting your ears, warm waves of soothing relaxation blanket you as the terror seems to recede a bit.
You fail to suppress an involuntary purr though you do cuddle a little deeper into her, your mind full of a thousand questions, all trying to get out and blocking the way to your mouth. Finally, one emerges, pushing through the mass by virtue of the fact that it is the most pressing issue. “What do I do now?” you work out in barely a whisper, grateful to at least get something out.
“Well, that’s sort of an easy question little sis; you work. You’re bound here, forever. And you’ll feel antsy soon if you’re not doing something productive. You don’t have to run a kissing booth, but you gotta do something.” Her hands stroke your ears more, concentrating on the tips and rubbing there, sending tingles of warm delight through you, your purrs getting louder and starting to help drown out some dread.
“I…mmmrrrrrrr…..” you humph. “What…what about my old life?” Knowing the absurdity of returning to it as a catgirl, beyond the fact that you don’t exactly remember any name but Britney Buttercup and certain things are hazier than a London morning.
“Going back like that sis? Optimistic.” A nyahahaha that prompts a glare from you. “Sorry, sorry. Mmmf, well, even if you did decide to just chance it, you can’t leave. We’re sort of bound here forever. The place is huge and magical, traveling from place to place. But we're stuck here; some magical sort of thing." She shrugs. "It's not so bad though, I haven't aged a day, gotten sick, or really missed the outside. This place has everything I need." She squeezes one of your hands, "everything you need too sis." Her smile is warm, pushing the dread further away.
You give another sigh at that, slumping more into her arms as you…