Warren and Sharon - Sharing is Caring?

[xp_angel]

In which Warren has a very interesting conversation with an incredibly blunt Sharon





"You are the Horny Seagull."

Warren turned his head and frowned, a mouthful of his artisanal popcorn on route to his mouth.

"And I never thought I'd ever say this but you are one rude, naked pussy. Can I help you?"

A human-sized but fully quadrupedal purple cat was sitting in the doorway. If one was so inclined to look one might notice the blunter snout and mobile lips that allowed her to speak legibly, but that would require one to look past her measured yellow eyes. She stared at him for a few seconds too long before turning her gaze towards the bowl of popcorn sitting next to his laptop.

"I want that," she declared.

"So do I, which is why I made some." He returned his attention to his laptop. Contrary to popular belief, Warren did actually work -- just not very hard or very often.

Unfortunately, today wasn't one of those days and he wasn't in a mood to be friendly.

"I want some." Sharon slouched into the room and circled the table; invitations were for other people. "You don't smell like sex yet," she remarked. "Is that why you're in a bad mood?"

That caught his attention...and also had him try to discreetly smell at his shirt. He was in his work clothes, although he had removed his tie. "Bobbi's working late, yes.... I'm just waiting for her before we go home and -- wait, who are you? I think I would have noticed a feminine blob before."

And to offset the rudeness, he pushed his bowl towards her. "Sea salt, olive oil, parmesan...you can have some. Not all. I'm hungry "

The newcomer hopped onto a chair and reached for the bowl. The paw she used to reach for it was actually a rather distressingly human-like hand.

"I am unmistakable," Sharon agreed. "Do you use mutant names? My name is Catseye. Or Sharon. Both are fine." She used her tongue to transfer the kernels from her palm to her mouth, crunching delicately as she did. Her tail thrashed once in approval. "Very good. Your food always smells good."

Warren watched in fascination at how Sharon ate the food. Although he had a physical mutation, he'd never really thought much about others. The wings, while a hindrance at times, were easily hidden and he was able to pretend he didn't have them when need be. That would obviously not be the case for some. "Naturally, I'm a good cook -- do you always look this way?"

A purple tail flicked. "Do you?" Sharon asked, unperturbed. She hooked a kernel on the tip of one claw and crunched again before answering. "I was disappointed, maybe. The people here look mostly human. Some exceptions, but not many. I was curious about you. You look human, but I always smell fresh feather dust. That dust is from the breakdown of keratin sheaths when new feathers grows in. So you have that as an integumentary mutation somewhere I can't see. And you are not heavy enough when you move. I think your bones are pneumatized, like a bird's. Broad shoulders and chest for specialized muscle attachments, maybe. I surmise you have, or can grow, wings." She licked the salt from her fingertips before adding, as an afterthought, "Also, I heard you called the Horny Seagull."

"I am very confused as to who you are, but you're not wrong about what you're saying. My bones are hollow, and I do have wings." He squinted and tried to size her up. Honestly, if it wasn' for her voice and name, he wouldn't have been able to tell the gender of the being in front of him. Not that it mattered at all -- it was just disconcerting when someone knew so much about you and yet you had no idea who that person was. "I do always look like this," he said, motioning to himself. "I don't change. My mutation also assists in muscle building and my metabolism. Basically, it just makes me more perfect and attractive." He went to unbutton his shirt before stopping suddenly. "Wait, how old are you? If I take off my shirt, will you be offended? I don't need a lawsuit on my hands."

"I turned twenty this year, and clothing is a pointless encumbrance," Sharon replied with perfect solemnity. She dipped her head, watching him with interest. "Show me, please. I would like to see."

"As long as you make sure people understand my name is Warren or Angel. Not Horny Seagull. That's undignified." Warren did as he was asked though. Within a few moments, he was taking off the leather harness and he moved his shoulders rhythmically, as he stretched out his wings. It was always a wonderful feeling to not be trapped but considering he was planning on still driving back to the city, he had kept them folded up. Maybe he would ask Bobbi if she wanted to stay at the mansion for the evening. That would be more comfortable. "Et voila," he said, his arms stretched out. "Behold the perfect specimen of man."

Sharon leaped from the chair and stalked over for a closer look. A low, interested thrum issued from her throat.

"Sternum seems human," she mused. The feline face wasn't very emotive, but her voice was more animated now. She circled around to Warren's side and raised herself on her hind legs for a better look at the join of wings and shoulders. At her full height she stood nearly six feet tall. "No carina? But you have arms to get in the way of normal avian muscle attachments. Uncinate processes of the ribs to strengthen, maybe. Vestigial, or can you fly?" She started to extend a hand towards the enticing white feathers, then remembered her manners.

"I want to touch," she said, but her tone indicated this was open to negotiation.

Warren listened to her spool out knowledge at an impressive rate. What she said was largely correct. It was impressive, considering he'd never really been to see an actual doctor unless you counted Cece or Jean. "I can fly," he said. "I can fly very well. And you're allowed to touch if your hands are clean. I follow a very specific cleaning regimen and don't wish to wash them tonight. I'm tired and blow-drying takes entirely too long before bed."


Sharon stared at him, then slowly withdrew her hand. Never breaking eye-contact, she swished her tongue across her palm and fingers once, twice, three times, and extended it again.


Warren side-stepped her. "Saliva only works as lube, not soap. Ew. Go wash your hands or I'm putting my shirt back on."

Sharon gave him a half-hearted hiss but complied. She dropped to all fours to get to the sink, but once she got there the familiarity with which she turned the taps and followed the standard over/under procedure of handwashing indicated the licking had only been an attempt to see just how much she could get away with. She returned to him on two legs, her tail doing a little extra work to steady her balance.

"Acceptable?" she asked with a sniff. "I kept my hands off the ground after, even though asking me to conform to human posture is a hate crime."

"And you touching me with dirty hands is against the Geneva convention," he retorted. "I told you, I'm pristine and I like to stay that way...but yes, I see they're clean so you can touch."

Sharon made a small murrrm sound and gently pawed at one wing with the tips of her fingers. "Soft," she said with approval, stroking the feathers. She leaned forward for a perfunctory sniff, then with great delicacy pulled the long feathers at the outer edge of his wing apart for a better look at how they fit together.

"Slots between primaries. Like soaring wings. Good for taking off in confined spaces." Sharon released the feathers and stepped back a few paces before settling back on her haunches. "Were you born with them?" she asked, her yellow eyes fixed on him.

One thing Warren hadn't expected was a certain delicacy from this amphorous person, and yet he was impressed that she was not tugging or pulling off feathers. In fact, it seemed on par for what she had been doing all along: inspecting him to meet her own thoughts on it. "No," he responded. "They grew during puberty. I thought they were tumours, and then lo and behold, they were wings. And before you ask, I also did not have a flight instinct. I had to work the muscles and learn how to fly. I hurt myself plenty but I seem to have a bit of an accelerated healing factor that allows me to bounce back fairly quickly. Why are you so interested? You don't even know me."

"You seem interesting. And I am interested in all things." For a moment it seemed as if she would leave things there, but a moment later she gave him a slow blink and continued. "I was always like this. My mother did not want me to leave the apartment. I snuck out sometimes at night, but never farther than a few blocks. I've never talked to other mutants. Or people." She flicked an ear and amended, "At least not in person. The internet exists."

"So the internet isn't just for porn. Good to know." This person was still intriguing him. "So you look like this and your mother didn't let you out. I'm hoping that was out of love and a misguided sense of protection rather than shame."


"It was love," Sharon said, simply. She stretched first her front legs, then her back, clearly closing the door to that topic. She returned to the table to tease more popcorn from the bowl. "Besides, I've seen internet porn," she remarked as she scooped out another handful. "Unimpressive. Seems fake, even with full penetration. The college courses were a much better use of my time."

It was hard for Warren to follow Sharon's train of thought. "College porn course? Oh wait -- you mean actually going to college... online. I'm assuming." He folded his wings in neatly and put his hands lightly on his hips. "What did you study? Biology? Philosophy? You seem like a hard sciences type of person."

"I study what I like. Zoology is very interesting. Veterinary medicine as well. Sometimes languages, but Romance languages are very easy with a groundwork in Latin. Mandarin or Cantonese as a challenge next, maybe. Whatever seems interesting." Sharon finished the popcorn and began licking up the length of her arm. "I am very clever."

"You won't go very far licking things though," he added coolly. "You're going to get kernels all over. Wouldn't it make more sense to use a napkin?"


Sharon craned her neck to move up to her shoulder, revealing impressive spinal flexibility. "You have your cleaning regimen, I have mine. Imagine how long it takes to blow dry an entire body."

His eyes narrowed. "Point. I still think it's disgusting, for the record. Not that you yourself are disgusting but the whole licking thing. This is why I don't own cats. My dog is a corgi and is so oddly shaped, he can barely lick at his parts."

"Cruel. Licking is how animals maintain their hygiene. Through selective breeding humans have done the equivalent of stealing an entire breed's toilet paper. Which I do use," Sharon added. "I'm not an animal."

The look Warren gave her said he only mildly believed her. "I'm sure Bobbi wipes his ass if need be ... with toilet paper. We aren't animals either. Bobbi is fully human, her mutation has no physical expressions really, not like mine. Or yours. Although..." He thought for a moment. "Her code name is Mockingbird, which only now I'm realizing is more avian than my code name. Interesting.... have you met her yet?"

"Not yet. Your partner? Now that sounds like an interesting person." Sharon got up and circled him to take a final look. She didn't come close enough to touch him, but her tail wrapping briefly around his knees as she did. "Thank you for the conversation. Very enlightening. You are entertaining as well as a good cook, despite your choice in dogs."

"My fiancee," he responded, his eyes watching her as she maneuvered around him. The tail was an interesting texture and he felt himself get a bit of goosebumps. The whole encounter was strange and he couldn't wait to tell Bobbi all about it. "And I am entertaining. Feel free to find me again, I suppose."

Teeth flashed briefly in Sharon's muzzle in something that, on a human face, might have been a smile. "If I feel like it," she replied, and loped away.