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xp_logsSharon drops into Terry and Darcy's suite because, to no one's surprise, she smells food. (backdated)
Humming softly to herself as she seared yet another chuck roast in her absurd cast iron frying pan. Her friends from Church in Enniskillen had given her such a difficult time when she'd mentioned she was bringing it back with her the last time she came to the States, but it had been her grandmother's and honestly, nothing worked quite as well for large meals as it did.
Though, if her grandda hasn't insisted, she wouldn't have taken it.
As she pondered that, Terry heard the door to the suite open and, considering she knew Darcy was in her room while Kyle was in the Danger Room and all of Darcy's paramours were also busy... she wasn't entirely sure who it might be, but she could hazard a guess. She didn't turn around, but she did tune out the sound of sizzling meat to focus on the other things she could hear.
And that, she thought to herself, Is a very, very low heart rate.
"I want that."
While the statement had the slight lisp that could be expected of words issuing from a mouth not entirely designed for human speech, the tone itself was entirely confident. It was emanating from the human-sized purple feline that had arrived to settle itself in the middle of Terry's kitchen. Its steady yellow gaze was locked on the already-seared chunks of meat current resting on the countertop.
Ah, so she'd been right. Smiling softly, Terry glanced over her shoulder. Kyle'd been right enough in his description, it seemed. "Do y'now? An' what do I get if I give y'one? Keepin' in mind my Kyle told me all about you."
"My gratitude." The lack of cookware flying in her direction was a positive sign. Sharon ambled closer to the small woman, nose lifted to sniff. Kyle's scent was strong here. On the woman, too. A frequent visitor. Perhaps this would strengthen her case.
"Kyle said I could have it," Sharon added, shamelessly.
"Kyle, bless him, hasn't the faintest as t'what I'm cookin' for dinner," Terry laughed, reaching out to touch the cat woman's nose with one finger. She held the boop for just a moment, then added, "I've plenty, though. Would y'care for it cooked? Rare? Or no' cooked at all?"
Sharon licked her nose, unperturbed. Shame over being caught in a lie was something she'd never related to. "Whatever is ready now," she said. She leaned forward to press her head against Terry's leg and thrummed in appreciation.
"Hm..." Terry hummed softly again, making sure it didn't resonate or cause Sharon any trouble, since she knew the woman's sense of hearing was enhanced as well. She flipped the meat in the cast iron pan, settled her tongs on the dish meant to hold all her utensils, and then reached for a plate holding two rare chuck roasts. They were meant to cook all the way through in the stew, but they'd work for Sharon for now. "D'you want any veg?"
The purring intensified in direct proportion to the increased promise of food. "Meat is best."
The door to Darcy's suite cracked open. "That's smelling great, Ter." A hand wrapped around the frame, brunette blinking almost comically large eyes as she took in the extra being in the room. "There's a purple catperson." She rubbed her temples and blinked again. "Still there," she muttered mostly to herself. Was she imagining things? "I am wherever there is food," Sharon asserted, her attention still on the meat.
Chuckling, Terry grabbed a serving fork and a carving knife, making short work of cutting the large chuck roasts into more hand-friendly pieces before handing the plate to Sharon. "Darcy, meet Sharon. Sharon, this is m'roommate, Darcy. She's as likely t'feed you as I am. Darce, Sharon's new t'the mansion. Kyle mentioned her yesterday. I s'pose she's gettin' acclimated."
"Must've missed it, I got back from Vegas late. Early? That mess with J wasn't appropriate for a call." Darcy let out a wide yawn, leaning against Terry's side briefly as she moved to the fridge. "Nice to meet you, Sharon." Mm fruit, leftover turkey, some cheese. Solid brunch. Waking food. Whatever. Be polite and not trail a hand over the very soft-looking fur on the way to the table. "You look very pettable. What's your opinion on cozy blankets and petting? Because I'm a fan, and you're gonna be my new favorite if you're also a fan."
"I am your new favorite," Sharon affirmed, made magnanimous by the plate of meat in her hand. As Terry was still using the kitchen space Sharon made the minor concession of moving to the nearest table. There was a certain Hanna-Barbera quality to how the feline rose to her hind legs long enough to set the plate on the table before jumping onto the nearest chair, but like all cats Sharon ranked dignity significantly below a full stomach.
"Oh good." Darcy reached out, fingers curling against the base of Sharon's closest ear in a light scritch. Her brain wasn't quite firing on all cylinders yet, filter lost somewhere between her plane landing early and crashing out in her bedroom. "Very soft fur, yes. I'm going to eat, find the best blankets, and talk you into petting and a nap. Warm cat. Big cat. This is going to be as great as borrowing Wolfie from Garrison." She dropped her hand, brushing some fine purple hairs onto her shirt before tackling her own food.
Terry watched the two of them eat, placing the most recently seared roast in a Dutch oven and grabbing a second from beside the stove as well. "Have y'any food allergies, Sharon?"
Sharon switched her tail contentedly at Darcy's pet before setting into the food. "To my knowledge: Caffeine. Large amounts of lactose. Anything in the allium family. All will make me vomit in sufficient quantities." She picked a chunk of meat from the dish and downed it in two swift but oddly dainty gulps. She paused to lick the juices from her whiskers and turned to Terry. "Apology. Just realized I did not ask your name."
"Och, I'm Terry, love," the redhead answered, sliding the onions she'd intended for the stew to the side. She began chopping up the potatoes, though, since they were already clean. "I spend a fair bit o'time over in Kyle's suite. His suitemate's Arthur -- delightful man. But I'm here quite a bit, too."
"Hmm. We may have to test the alliums a bit, with your permission. See what the limits are, if dried instead of fresh is as bad, that sort of thing. We'll get lactose free milk, or maybe something that isn't cow-based. And I've already got a list of low-lactose or almost lactose-free cheeses, so I'll get you some small bites to test. Assuming you don't mind, of course." Darcy's phone was out, shopping list filling out with modifications as she talked. "Caffeine's pretty easy to avoid. Do you know if you have the same reaction to mint as domestic housecats? If so, we'll make sure there are some safe herbal blends on hand that won't get you high as a kite. And, y'know. Some that definitely might."
"I am open to experimentation. If I vomit I will simply do so on those who offend me." Sharon studied Darcy over her plate as she scooped another chunk into her mouth. Her tail gave an inquisitive flick. "You smell like electricity," she remarked. "Your power?"
"Yes, at least a chunk of it. Technology too. I do not want to be vomited on, but we will figure something out to see what your limits are safely. And I will bribe you with treats. Whatever equivalent of a spa day sounds good for you, maybe. Soft clothes. Big steak or some fish, make up a little for any discomfort it costs you." Darcy looked at her own plate, contemplating the fruits on it, then dropped a small handful of blueberries and a few slices of apple on Sharon's plate, plus a tiny sliver of parmesan. "You up to some culinary experimentation, Ter? See where the limit is on these allergies in a few weeks so we can adjust menus accordingly?"
"Aye, we'll take it carefully. No vomitin', leastwise no' if we can help it," Terry agreed as she pulled out the celery from the fridge to wash it. She checked the level of the broth in the pot, then set about getting the rest of the food prepared. "D'you like the mansion so far, Sharon?" She asked, brushing stray strands of hair out of her face as she glanced over her shoulder at the other two women.
"I am enjoying myself. The new and interesting people I meet are feeding me on a regular basis." Sharon bent over the plate to lap up two of the blueberries with her tongue. "Any vomit should not be taken personally. I am a cat. Vomit is frequent and inexplicable."
Darcy nodded. "This is fully accurate of my old man Crooks and his long hair. I'd introduce you two, but he's old and just settled back down to sleep. He'll probably growl at you a little, uh... can you talk to domestic cats? Is that a thing?"
"Not in the way it is for people," Sharon replied as she picked up a slice of apple. Rather than swallowing it whole, this she held to her muzzle for a clumsy nibble. "But basic moods, yes. Hungry, want to be social, want to be left alone, leave my territory, feeling sick or hurt. Some vocalizations, but mostly body language and olfactory signals. Cannot command an army of feline minions. Disappointing."
"If y'know Kyle, have y'met Shamu?" Terry asked, tossing the large pieces of celery she'd cut into the pot with the meat and broth before starting on the potatoes. Skin-on, she thought, and since they were already clean, she set about quartering them. "Black and white, lovely little cuddlebug. Though it is too bad y'can't command an entire army of cats..."
After such clumsy bites Sharon was managing to crunch the apple slice with unexpected delicacy. "I know of Shamu through screens only, but Kyle says he too has weaponized naps to his advantage. I will observe his technique." A pink tongue flicked out to lick her whiskers. "Like cats very much. Even if they refuse to do my bidding."
"You will have a few here to meet. Topaz is out for a bit, but you'll see her Midnight slinking around. All sleek and black and blending into the shadows. Some ferals that run around the grounds, but they mostly stick to the barn area. There are bobcats in the woods. Not many, but you might run across them." Done with her own snack, Darcy stood to drop her plate in the sink. "Anything else need done for the stew right now, hon?"
"Och, no, I'm fine, with the last o'these," Terry said, indicating the potatoes. "Might be good t'get some bread out, though. Have it toasted? Butter and mayhap some honey or jam? Sharon, love, d'you like sweets like jams and jellies?"
"I will eat. Prefer salty and savoury. Umami? The mysterious flavor." Sharon bent over her plate to lap the remaining meat juices from the surface. "Seem to have much food. Do you cook for all?"
"Sometimes. We aren't the only ones, but we do a lot of bigger batch cooking because we've got the ability and patience for it. My gran cooks enough to feed a small army, even though there was ever only the six of us at home. Farm work is hungry work though, and three of us were still growing." Darcy pulled a loaf of bread from the box and started slicing. "We both like taking care of people."
Sensing weakness, Sharon pressed her luck. "What is your policy on strays?" she asked, hopefully.
Suppressing a laugh, Terry cast Darcy a smiling glance before turning to look at Sharon. "Generally for the mansion, or us specifically an' in this suite in particular?"
Sharon contrived to shift in a way that displayed her bony hips and skinny ribs to their full, pathetic effect. "Which will provide the most food?"
Laughing, Terry said, "Love, you're welcome t'come here any time y'like and you're always welcome t'the food in the fridge or the freezer if you're hungry. Don't hesitate t'check what we've made or stored. Just let us know what you've taken so we don't plan on usin' it for something else, aye? An' we've plenty o'extra pillows an' blankets t'make up the couch or a spare bed, if we can get Kyle t'move one in. Or someone else. I've heard the attic here's practically a trove o'antiques."
"You like to cuddle, I plan on keeping you." Darcy's answer was more blunt. "Er. Wait, that sounded less creepy in my head. Anyways! Our couch is generally open to anyone who wants to crash on it. My bed is full of pillows and blankets because I like being surrounded by comfort. If my door's not locked I don't mind visitors. And yes, there's some great stuff in the attic. Not much clothing left, but furniture, other odds and ends that have been left behind. We'll figure out a label system for Sharon-safe food."
The cat thrummed again, the noise resonating to a thunderous degree in her great throat. "I approve of comfort and having my dietary needs catered to," Sharon declared with perfect honestly. Feeling her place was now assured, she jumped from the chair and settled onto the small throw rug in the middle of the kitchen, fingers mindlessly kneading beneath her. The claws made contented skrp skrp noises as they plucked at the fibers.
"Same. I think we're going to get along just fine." Darcy put the sliced bread in a basket with a towel over it, then lowered herself to the floor next to Sharon. "I'm gonna pet your ears now."
Smiling softly, Terry turned back to the stove to keep an eye on the pot and to finish searing the other chuck roasts she had. If Sharon was going to be coming around more often, she'd need to stock up on more meat than she already did for Kyle. That reminded, her, though -- maybe Kyle could take Sharon deer hunting.
Humming softly to herself as she seared yet another chuck roast in her absurd cast iron frying pan. Her friends from Church in Enniskillen had given her such a difficult time when she'd mentioned she was bringing it back with her the last time she came to the States, but it had been her grandmother's and honestly, nothing worked quite as well for large meals as it did.
Though, if her grandda hasn't insisted, she wouldn't have taken it.
As she pondered that, Terry heard the door to the suite open and, considering she knew Darcy was in her room while Kyle was in the Danger Room and all of Darcy's paramours were also busy... she wasn't entirely sure who it might be, but she could hazard a guess. She didn't turn around, but she did tune out the sound of sizzling meat to focus on the other things she could hear.
And that, she thought to herself, Is a very, very low heart rate.
"I want that."
While the statement had the slight lisp that could be expected of words issuing from a mouth not entirely designed for human speech, the tone itself was entirely confident. It was emanating from the human-sized purple feline that had arrived to settle itself in the middle of Terry's kitchen. Its steady yellow gaze was locked on the already-seared chunks of meat current resting on the countertop.
Ah, so she'd been right. Smiling softly, Terry glanced over her shoulder. Kyle'd been right enough in his description, it seemed. "Do y'now? An' what do I get if I give y'one? Keepin' in mind my Kyle told me all about you."
"My gratitude." The lack of cookware flying in her direction was a positive sign. Sharon ambled closer to the small woman, nose lifted to sniff. Kyle's scent was strong here. On the woman, too. A frequent visitor. Perhaps this would strengthen her case.
"Kyle said I could have it," Sharon added, shamelessly.
"Kyle, bless him, hasn't the faintest as t'what I'm cookin' for dinner," Terry laughed, reaching out to touch the cat woman's nose with one finger. She held the boop for just a moment, then added, "I've plenty, though. Would y'care for it cooked? Rare? Or no' cooked at all?"
Sharon licked her nose, unperturbed. Shame over being caught in a lie was something she'd never related to. "Whatever is ready now," she said. She leaned forward to press her head against Terry's leg and thrummed in appreciation.
"Hm..." Terry hummed softly again, making sure it didn't resonate or cause Sharon any trouble, since she knew the woman's sense of hearing was enhanced as well. She flipped the meat in the cast iron pan, settled her tongs on the dish meant to hold all her utensils, and then reached for a plate holding two rare chuck roasts. They were meant to cook all the way through in the stew, but they'd work for Sharon for now. "D'you want any veg?"
The purring intensified in direct proportion to the increased promise of food. "Meat is best."
The door to Darcy's suite cracked open. "That's smelling great, Ter." A hand wrapped around the frame, brunette blinking almost comically large eyes as she took in the extra being in the room. "There's a purple catperson." She rubbed her temples and blinked again. "Still there," she muttered mostly to herself. Was she imagining things? "I am wherever there is food," Sharon asserted, her attention still on the meat.
Chuckling, Terry grabbed a serving fork and a carving knife, making short work of cutting the large chuck roasts into more hand-friendly pieces before handing the plate to Sharon. "Darcy, meet Sharon. Sharon, this is m'roommate, Darcy. She's as likely t'feed you as I am. Darce, Sharon's new t'the mansion. Kyle mentioned her yesterday. I s'pose she's gettin' acclimated."
"Must've missed it, I got back from Vegas late. Early? That mess with J wasn't appropriate for a call." Darcy let out a wide yawn, leaning against Terry's side briefly as she moved to the fridge. "Nice to meet you, Sharon." Mm fruit, leftover turkey, some cheese. Solid brunch. Waking food. Whatever. Be polite and not trail a hand over the very soft-looking fur on the way to the table. "You look very pettable. What's your opinion on cozy blankets and petting? Because I'm a fan, and you're gonna be my new favorite if you're also a fan."
"I am your new favorite," Sharon affirmed, made magnanimous by the plate of meat in her hand. As Terry was still using the kitchen space Sharon made the minor concession of moving to the nearest table. There was a certain Hanna-Barbera quality to how the feline rose to her hind legs long enough to set the plate on the table before jumping onto the nearest chair, but like all cats Sharon ranked dignity significantly below a full stomach.
"Oh good." Darcy reached out, fingers curling against the base of Sharon's closest ear in a light scritch. Her brain wasn't quite firing on all cylinders yet, filter lost somewhere between her plane landing early and crashing out in her bedroom. "Very soft fur, yes. I'm going to eat, find the best blankets, and talk you into petting and a nap. Warm cat. Big cat. This is going to be as great as borrowing Wolfie from Garrison." She dropped her hand, brushing some fine purple hairs onto her shirt before tackling her own food.
Terry watched the two of them eat, placing the most recently seared roast in a Dutch oven and grabbing a second from beside the stove as well. "Have y'any food allergies, Sharon?"
Sharon switched her tail contentedly at Darcy's pet before setting into the food. "To my knowledge: Caffeine. Large amounts of lactose. Anything in the allium family. All will make me vomit in sufficient quantities." She picked a chunk of meat from the dish and downed it in two swift but oddly dainty gulps. She paused to lick the juices from her whiskers and turned to Terry. "Apology. Just realized I did not ask your name."
"Och, I'm Terry, love," the redhead answered, sliding the onions she'd intended for the stew to the side. She began chopping up the potatoes, though, since they were already clean. "I spend a fair bit o'time over in Kyle's suite. His suitemate's Arthur -- delightful man. But I'm here quite a bit, too."
"Hmm. We may have to test the alliums a bit, with your permission. See what the limits are, if dried instead of fresh is as bad, that sort of thing. We'll get lactose free milk, or maybe something that isn't cow-based. And I've already got a list of low-lactose or almost lactose-free cheeses, so I'll get you some small bites to test. Assuming you don't mind, of course." Darcy's phone was out, shopping list filling out with modifications as she talked. "Caffeine's pretty easy to avoid. Do you know if you have the same reaction to mint as domestic housecats? If so, we'll make sure there are some safe herbal blends on hand that won't get you high as a kite. And, y'know. Some that definitely might."
"I am open to experimentation. If I vomit I will simply do so on those who offend me." Sharon studied Darcy over her plate as she scooped another chunk into her mouth. Her tail gave an inquisitive flick. "You smell like electricity," she remarked. "Your power?"
"Yes, at least a chunk of it. Technology too. I do not want to be vomited on, but we will figure something out to see what your limits are safely. And I will bribe you with treats. Whatever equivalent of a spa day sounds good for you, maybe. Soft clothes. Big steak or some fish, make up a little for any discomfort it costs you." Darcy looked at her own plate, contemplating the fruits on it, then dropped a small handful of blueberries and a few slices of apple on Sharon's plate, plus a tiny sliver of parmesan. "You up to some culinary experimentation, Ter? See where the limit is on these allergies in a few weeks so we can adjust menus accordingly?"
"Aye, we'll take it carefully. No vomitin', leastwise no' if we can help it," Terry agreed as she pulled out the celery from the fridge to wash it. She checked the level of the broth in the pot, then set about getting the rest of the food prepared. "D'you like the mansion so far, Sharon?" She asked, brushing stray strands of hair out of her face as she glanced over her shoulder at the other two women.
"I am enjoying myself. The new and interesting people I meet are feeding me on a regular basis." Sharon bent over the plate to lap up two of the blueberries with her tongue. "Any vomit should not be taken personally. I am a cat. Vomit is frequent and inexplicable."
Darcy nodded. "This is fully accurate of my old man Crooks and his long hair. I'd introduce you two, but he's old and just settled back down to sleep. He'll probably growl at you a little, uh... can you talk to domestic cats? Is that a thing?"
"Not in the way it is for people," Sharon replied as she picked up a slice of apple. Rather than swallowing it whole, this she held to her muzzle for a clumsy nibble. "But basic moods, yes. Hungry, want to be social, want to be left alone, leave my territory, feeling sick or hurt. Some vocalizations, but mostly body language and olfactory signals. Cannot command an army of feline minions. Disappointing."
"If y'know Kyle, have y'met Shamu?" Terry asked, tossing the large pieces of celery she'd cut into the pot with the meat and broth before starting on the potatoes. Skin-on, she thought, and since they were already clean, she set about quartering them. "Black and white, lovely little cuddlebug. Though it is too bad y'can't command an entire army of cats..."
After such clumsy bites Sharon was managing to crunch the apple slice with unexpected delicacy. "I know of Shamu through screens only, but Kyle says he too has weaponized naps to his advantage. I will observe his technique." A pink tongue flicked out to lick her whiskers. "Like cats very much. Even if they refuse to do my bidding."
"You will have a few here to meet. Topaz is out for a bit, but you'll see her Midnight slinking around. All sleek and black and blending into the shadows. Some ferals that run around the grounds, but they mostly stick to the barn area. There are bobcats in the woods. Not many, but you might run across them." Done with her own snack, Darcy stood to drop her plate in the sink. "Anything else need done for the stew right now, hon?"
"Och, no, I'm fine, with the last o'these," Terry said, indicating the potatoes. "Might be good t'get some bread out, though. Have it toasted? Butter and mayhap some honey or jam? Sharon, love, d'you like sweets like jams and jellies?"
"I will eat. Prefer salty and savoury. Umami? The mysterious flavor." Sharon bent over her plate to lap the remaining meat juices from the surface. "Seem to have much food. Do you cook for all?"
"Sometimes. We aren't the only ones, but we do a lot of bigger batch cooking because we've got the ability and patience for it. My gran cooks enough to feed a small army, even though there was ever only the six of us at home. Farm work is hungry work though, and three of us were still growing." Darcy pulled a loaf of bread from the box and started slicing. "We both like taking care of people."
Sensing weakness, Sharon pressed her luck. "What is your policy on strays?" she asked, hopefully.
Suppressing a laugh, Terry cast Darcy a smiling glance before turning to look at Sharon. "Generally for the mansion, or us specifically an' in this suite in particular?"
Sharon contrived to shift in a way that displayed her bony hips and skinny ribs to their full, pathetic effect. "Which will provide the most food?"
Laughing, Terry said, "Love, you're welcome t'come here any time y'like and you're always welcome t'the food in the fridge or the freezer if you're hungry. Don't hesitate t'check what we've made or stored. Just let us know what you've taken so we don't plan on usin' it for something else, aye? An' we've plenty o'extra pillows an' blankets t'make up the couch or a spare bed, if we can get Kyle t'move one in. Or someone else. I've heard the attic here's practically a trove o'antiques."
"You like to cuddle, I plan on keeping you." Darcy's answer was more blunt. "Er. Wait, that sounded less creepy in my head. Anyways! Our couch is generally open to anyone who wants to crash on it. My bed is full of pillows and blankets because I like being surrounded by comfort. If my door's not locked I don't mind visitors. And yes, there's some great stuff in the attic. Not much clothing left, but furniture, other odds and ends that have been left behind. We'll figure out a label system for Sharon-safe food."
The cat thrummed again, the noise resonating to a thunderous degree in her great throat. "I approve of comfort and having my dietary needs catered to," Sharon declared with perfect honestly. Feeling her place was now assured, she jumped from the chair and settled onto the small throw rug in the middle of the kitchen, fingers mindlessly kneading beneath her. The claws made contented skrp skrp noises as they plucked at the fibers.
"Same. I think we're going to get along just fine." Darcy put the sliced bread in a basket with a towel over it, then lowered herself to the floor next to Sharon. "I'm gonna pet your ears now."
Smiling softly, Terry turned back to the stove to keep an eye on the pot and to finish searing the other chuck roasts she had. If Sharon was going to be coming around more often, she'd need to stock up on more meat than she already did for Kyle. That reminded, her, though -- maybe Kyle could take Sharon deer hunting.
