Cally was lying on her back and juggling apples with her feet, so fast that all she could see was a shiny red blur in the air above the foot of her bed. How she was managing to do that and where she'd even got the apples seemed less important at the moment than pointing the accomplishment out. Loudly.

//Zelda, look! I told you I'd learn it!//
//You're too far away - I can't see. Learn what?
//How to keep everything up in the air...//
// I can't hear you-- Cally?//

Thud thud THUD, and they all fell down.

//Zelda?//

But there wasn't any answer when Cally sat up in bed, the covers tangled up around her toes.

Though the dream brought a familiar disappointment surging bitterly to the surface, the silence wasn't unusual, not anymore. What was odd was the way she felt compelled to kick away the blanket, slide out of bed, and walk over to the window to gaze up in some vague skyward direction as if she really could point the way home. Also to open her mouth, though there was no one here to talk to but the dog, and start -- oh.

( That wasn't talking. )

Cally would have a hard time coming up with a scientific explanation for that. If she were bothering to try, instead of just staring blankly (and perhaps a little bit damply) out the window.

[Open. Emo, but open.]

Yesterday had not been a good day. You could say that for everything since Cally had arrived in Fandom, but this week of meeting people -- including other telepaths and students organising their own defensive force -- and attending classes that she would have loved to take at home, it had been... not a respite from her worry, but it helped. Until she'd talked to Principal Winchester and it had all come tumbling down: she was stuck here. Perhaps not for good, but for the foreseeable future. Alone, cut off from everyone and everything that she knew, including the minds of her people, who probably all thought she was dead now.

On the bright side, she could sleep in late and take a shower while Nico was in class without disturbing him, which made up for...absolutely nothing. Perhaps tomorrow she'd work on something brighter; today she was going to settle for going back to sleep and trying to pretend it was a dream, but at least she'd do so with clean hair.

That was the plan. The reality, when she entered her room, was a very large WOOF! Also a very large creature, sitting right in the middle of her bed.

( ...What? )

Cally sighed.  //Please move over, then?// 

That earned her a sigh that was twice the length of hers, and a grudging five inches of the bed vacated. Still, it was the five inches that contained her trousers. Trousers were good!

Until she reached for them and was knocked onto the bed by seventy-three kilos of fur and slobber - which then woofed again, and started licking her face.

[OOC: Door is shut, but post is open. Anyone passing can undoubtedly hear muffled sounds of Very Large Puppy-ness.]

AKA everything you never wanted to know about Cally, a character from an obscure BBC sci-fi series that went off the air before most of you were born, and weren't afraid to ask!

( Where/when/whatevertheheck does she come from? )
( Who the frak is Cally, then, and why are you using BSG curses for a show that predates it if you don't count the original series? )
( Can haz powerz? )

This is Cally; please leave a voice message after the tone, and I will contact you as soon as I'm able.