Log: Cat! Cat cat! cat cat cat!
Aug. 20th, 2023 03:14 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsMutant cats. That's it. That's the log.
aka Liam and Sharon meet
Sharon's ear flicked in the breeze as she dozed on the branch, arm tucked under her cheek while the other dangled freely. It had taken some looking to find one of a suitable size and angle, but the Institute had quite a bit of acreage, and now she was free to live out her sub-Saharan African dreams. The couch in her apartment and the power of imagination had not been the same. She still missed it sometimes, but a small part of her resented living twenty years without even the option of an alternative.
Her ears pricked to a sound. Footsteps. She cracked a sleepy yellow eye, wondering whether this was someone she would deign to acknowledge to continue with her doze. Then she got a good look at the newcomer, and suddenly she was very, very awake.
Wandering the grounds to familiarize himself with them, Liam thought Xavier's was very... manicured. Even the unkept forested areas were groomed. So weird. Not... bad though. He'd find a number of trees that looked interesting to climb and explore.
Including.... was that a purple cat in the tree? Hissing as it fell, he jumped back, cats had 9 lives and landed on their feet, no way was he going to try to catch her! She was as big as him!
Knowing how to fall didn't mean Sharon looked graceful while doing so. The subsequent twist and tail-thrash she was forced to execute simultaneously put all four feet beneath her and made her look like an agitated windsock. She landed a few yards away from Liam, back arched and fur bristling.
"You! Who are you!"
"You made me go poofy!" Liam retorted, unsuccessfully trying to brush his hair down with his hands, tail thrashing behind him in irritation. "I hate being poofy!"
Another cat!! Another cat! Sharon's fur began to settle as her initial surprise was replaced by excitement. She stalked a few steps closer and then hunched low to get a better smell. Male, obviously, but young. Still in mid-adolescence. But another cat!
"You made me fall," Sharon pointed out. "You deserve to be poofy. Who are you? Your smell is new."
Trying to sniff subtly, because it weirded people out, even if she was a cat and doing the same, he circled her, tail waving much more leisurely than it had been, though not quite wagging. He wasn't a dog. "I didn't 'make' you do anything," he shot back, "You fell because you're not as good at catting. I'm Liam. And I am new."
"I am Sharon," she replied, primly, "and I am the best at catting. It was you who interrupted my nap." She remained where she was to give the boy time to get used to her. The only outward sign of her excitement was the unusually fast twitch of the tip of her tail. Slowly, she raised herself into a sitting position. "I would like to smell you," she said, but the statement had a lilt at the end that indicated it was a question.
Snorting and rolling his eyes, Liam dropped so one hand was on the ground, knees bent so he could move quickly. Shoving his face near her neck, he pulled back almost as quickly, "I haven't met anyone like me since Aunt Greer died!" Except maybe she wasn't dead after all. His ears flopped as he realized that.
"I haven't met anyone like me." Sharon took a step closer to him and leaned into him for much longer than he had leaned into her, tasting the scent from the glands on his ears, his cheeks, his temples, his jaw. His sadness tugged at her. Impulsively, Sharon pushed her face against his jaw and nuzzled him. "Your aunt died? Condolences. My mother, too, recently. Difficult."
"She was my birth mom. But I called her aunt. She might not be dead now though? I don't know. I'm sorry about your mom, it sucks," when he realized that Greer probably died, he'd mourned but there hadn't been a public funeral or anything, no one in town had known her. She'd stolen in and out in the night according to her own schedule and whims. "But now she's not in pain?"
"No. Not in pain." She elaborated no further on the subject. Sharon gave Liam a soft lick on the cheek and examined him curiously. "No fur on face? Strange. But stripes." Her whiskers brushed against his cheek as she lifted her nose to touch the nearest ear. "Fur here, though."
He shook his head, ear twitching automatically at the touch, "I shave though. A little," like.... once a month. One day he'd have decent facial hair. Just not today. Hair was different than fur, it grew differently and it behaved differently, too. Took forever to dry. Liam reached out to stroke Sharon gently with a couple fingers, "You've got a lot. How do you groom it all? I'd die if I had that much fur to groom every day."
Sharon leaned into his hand with a contented rumble. As expected, the boy knew the most pleasing spots.
"I have my ways," she said mysteriously. "Is this your shape? Do you change?"
Really, he just scratched the places he liked being scratched. It was a safe bet. Tilting his head and blinking at the question for a moment, Liam finally replied, "Yes? I mean....I hope I get taller as I get older? But yes? Do you... not?"
"Mmm." Sharon's tail thrashed playfully. "Curious about other mutants. So many change only with puberty. Can't relate. You either, maybe. Once you settle, you move and act like you have always lived in your body."
He shook his head, "I was born a cat," he answered, "Well. A cat-boy. I've always looked like this. Just like a kid. I didn't...I dunno. Manifest lasers out my eyes or whatever. Why? Did you turn into a cat later?" that sounded horrible.
Sharon gave him an affectionate swat. "I, too, am an always-cat," she replied, pleased at the commonality. "Mother was cautious, few places to roam in Manhattan. Homeschooled, obviously."
That sounded horrible. Sitting on the grass, Liam shifted to better pet her and get closer, almost snuggling, "That sucks. You didn't get to run around and climb trees and catch fish or anything? And you didn't lose your mind? How? That sounds awful. How did you survive?" He was not home schooled.
Sharon settled her chin on his knee. "Snuck out sometimes. Lots of practice hunting New York City vermin. And friendly with the local cats, of course. But no. No experience in the countryside. Lots of internet, though." She sounded almost wistful. "You fish? Fished with your hands, or with a rod?"
"Both," he answered, "And deep sea fishing and saning. All sorts of fishing. We live by an estuary by the ocean. The water's cold, but there's tons of fish and stuff. Depends on what I wanted to catch. Is there fish in the lake here?"
"Yes! Show me how to fish. I have seen them there. Taunting me." Sharon rolled off him, excited now. Liam fell squarely in the category of Kitten as far as she was concerned, but in some areas he clearly had superior practical experience. The reality was a little irksome, but somehow it stung less coming from another ailuromorph. At least Liam considered her mannerisms perfectly appropriate and could reciprocate in kind.
"Come! I'll show you!" Excited, Liam took off into the trees towards the lake, assuming Sharon would follow. She was a cat, it was chase, what wasn't to love? And fresh fish! Nothing was better than fresh fish. Nothing. Not even sun beams or scritches in just the right place.
He didn't think of himself as a kitten or Sharon as an adult cat, merely that they were both cat- people and they did what was natural to them. And that definitely included fishing.
aka Liam and Sharon meet
Sharon's ear flicked in the breeze as she dozed on the branch, arm tucked under her cheek while the other dangled freely. It had taken some looking to find one of a suitable size and angle, but the Institute had quite a bit of acreage, and now she was free to live out her sub-Saharan African dreams. The couch in her apartment and the power of imagination had not been the same. She still missed it sometimes, but a small part of her resented living twenty years without even the option of an alternative.
Her ears pricked to a sound. Footsteps. She cracked a sleepy yellow eye, wondering whether this was someone she would deign to acknowledge to continue with her doze. Then she got a good look at the newcomer, and suddenly she was very, very awake.
Wandering the grounds to familiarize himself with them, Liam thought Xavier's was very... manicured. Even the unkept forested areas were groomed. So weird. Not... bad though. He'd find a number of trees that looked interesting to climb and explore.
Including.... was that a purple cat in the tree? Hissing as it fell, he jumped back, cats had 9 lives and landed on their feet, no way was he going to try to catch her! She was as big as him!
Knowing how to fall didn't mean Sharon looked graceful while doing so. The subsequent twist and tail-thrash she was forced to execute simultaneously put all four feet beneath her and made her look like an agitated windsock. She landed a few yards away from Liam, back arched and fur bristling.
"You! Who are you!"
"You made me go poofy!" Liam retorted, unsuccessfully trying to brush his hair down with his hands, tail thrashing behind him in irritation. "I hate being poofy!"
Another cat!! Another cat! Sharon's fur began to settle as her initial surprise was replaced by excitement. She stalked a few steps closer and then hunched low to get a better smell. Male, obviously, but young. Still in mid-adolescence. But another cat!
"You made me fall," Sharon pointed out. "You deserve to be poofy. Who are you? Your smell is new."
Trying to sniff subtly, because it weirded people out, even if she was a cat and doing the same, he circled her, tail waving much more leisurely than it had been, though not quite wagging. He wasn't a dog. "I didn't 'make' you do anything," he shot back, "You fell because you're not as good at catting. I'm Liam. And I am new."
"I am Sharon," she replied, primly, "and I am the best at catting. It was you who interrupted my nap." She remained where she was to give the boy time to get used to her. The only outward sign of her excitement was the unusually fast twitch of the tip of her tail. Slowly, she raised herself into a sitting position. "I would like to smell you," she said, but the statement had a lilt at the end that indicated it was a question.
Snorting and rolling his eyes, Liam dropped so one hand was on the ground, knees bent so he could move quickly. Shoving his face near her neck, he pulled back almost as quickly, "I haven't met anyone like me since Aunt Greer died!" Except maybe she wasn't dead after all. His ears flopped as he realized that.
"I haven't met anyone like me." Sharon took a step closer to him and leaned into him for much longer than he had leaned into her, tasting the scent from the glands on his ears, his cheeks, his temples, his jaw. His sadness tugged at her. Impulsively, Sharon pushed her face against his jaw and nuzzled him. "Your aunt died? Condolences. My mother, too, recently. Difficult."
"She was my birth mom. But I called her aunt. She might not be dead now though? I don't know. I'm sorry about your mom, it sucks," when he realized that Greer probably died, he'd mourned but there hadn't been a public funeral or anything, no one in town had known her. She'd stolen in and out in the night according to her own schedule and whims. "But now she's not in pain?"
"No. Not in pain." She elaborated no further on the subject. Sharon gave Liam a soft lick on the cheek and examined him curiously. "No fur on face? Strange. But stripes." Her whiskers brushed against his cheek as she lifted her nose to touch the nearest ear. "Fur here, though."
He shook his head, ear twitching automatically at the touch, "I shave though. A little," like.... once a month. One day he'd have decent facial hair. Just not today. Hair was different than fur, it grew differently and it behaved differently, too. Took forever to dry. Liam reached out to stroke Sharon gently with a couple fingers, "You've got a lot. How do you groom it all? I'd die if I had that much fur to groom every day."
Sharon leaned into his hand with a contented rumble. As expected, the boy knew the most pleasing spots.
"I have my ways," she said mysteriously. "Is this your shape? Do you change?"
Really, he just scratched the places he liked being scratched. It was a safe bet. Tilting his head and blinking at the question for a moment, Liam finally replied, "Yes? I mean....I hope I get taller as I get older? But yes? Do you... not?"
"Mmm." Sharon's tail thrashed playfully. "Curious about other mutants. So many change only with puberty. Can't relate. You either, maybe. Once you settle, you move and act like you have always lived in your body."
He shook his head, "I was born a cat," he answered, "Well. A cat-boy. I've always looked like this. Just like a kid. I didn't...I dunno. Manifest lasers out my eyes or whatever. Why? Did you turn into a cat later?" that sounded horrible.
Sharon gave him an affectionate swat. "I, too, am an always-cat," she replied, pleased at the commonality. "Mother was cautious, few places to roam in Manhattan. Homeschooled, obviously."
That sounded horrible. Sitting on the grass, Liam shifted to better pet her and get closer, almost snuggling, "That sucks. You didn't get to run around and climb trees and catch fish or anything? And you didn't lose your mind? How? That sounds awful. How did you survive?" He was not home schooled.
Sharon settled her chin on his knee. "Snuck out sometimes. Lots of practice hunting New York City vermin. And friendly with the local cats, of course. But no. No experience in the countryside. Lots of internet, though." She sounded almost wistful. "You fish? Fished with your hands, or with a rod?"
"Both," he answered, "And deep sea fishing and saning. All sorts of fishing. We live by an estuary by the ocean. The water's cold, but there's tons of fish and stuff. Depends on what I wanted to catch. Is there fish in the lake here?"
"Yes! Show me how to fish. I have seen them there. Taunting me." Sharon rolled off him, excited now. Liam fell squarely in the category of Kitten as far as she was concerned, but in some areas he clearly had superior practical experience. The reality was a little irksome, but somehow it stung less coming from another ailuromorph. At least Liam considered her mannerisms perfectly appropriate and could reciprocate in kind.
"Come! I'll show you!" Excited, Liam took off into the trees towards the lake, assuming Sharon would follow. She was a cat, it was chase, what wasn't to love? And fresh fish! Nothing was better than fresh fish. Nothing. Not even sun beams or scritches in just the right place.
He didn't think of himself as a kitten or Sharon as an adult cat, merely that they were both cat- people and they did what was natural to them. And that definitely included fishing.
