Jean/Sharon: Purr-Fect Meeting
Sep. 4th, 2023 06:11 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
xp_phoenix posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
xp_logsJean encounters a purple would-be chicken thief, but everything ends peacefully.
Chicken. Oh, there were some other sides, like potato salad and grilled fruit, but the big thing was the chicken. Sharon had spent her whole life as an obligate carnivore, and she wasn't going to start fighting it now.
And the plate was unattended. This was an invitation. Could she simply have browsed from the grill offerings, or requested something directly from Kyle? Of course. Was it as fun as taking food from someone else? No. This was urban hunting.
Moving stealthily, Sharon crept up behind the chair and reached for the chicken.
But her attempt was blocked by an invisible wall, preventing her from going any further. Denied.
"Ah, the food thief I've heard so much about. We meet at last," Jean said, having returned from her trip to the drink table with a bottle of water in hand.
Sharon didn't waste time acting ashamed. She'd already been caught in the act, and she wasn't. Besides, now she had something new to interest her. She patted at the seemingly solid barrier between her and the forbidden plate.
"What is this?" Sharon asked. She patted the air again. "I cannot get."
"Correct," Jean mused. "My chicken is off limits. Especially since there's a whole table to get your own from. You get the telekinetic bubble instead."
Sharon raised herself to her hind legs, gently exploring the curve of the bubble with her clawed hands.
"Smells like nothing," she remarked, clearly fascinated. "Feels like nothing also. Like repelling force between two opposing magnets." She collapsed back onto her haunches and gave the telekinetic a wounded look. "I cannot touch or climb. Unfair."
"I could make something you could climb but...that's for the Danger Room," Jean said with a smirk. "I'm Jean. Or Doctor Grey if you're feeling formal."
"I recognize. The one who was occupied with Jessica-who-is-new when I arrived, so not involved in deworming or flea dips. I am Sharon. Catseye, if you are feeling reverential." The cat stretched long, throwing her humanoid forelegs in front of her to knead at the grass as if the fact she'd just been caught red-handed was now all in the past. She gave her head a little shake before straightening to look up at Jean. "You are still very busy? Seem tired."
Jean paused, thrown off by the comment. "I...usually am," she admitted. "I try to keep myself busy." It wasn't entirely a lie.
"How are you enjoying the mansion so far?"
"Very exciting. Never been around so many people at once. Or so much food." With a predator's unerring instinct for vulnerability, Sharon continued to study Jean with her unblinking gaze. "Sooraya and Alani are always busy also. But do not seem tired like you."
Working with so many mutants over the years gave Jean a bit more of a tolerance for unusual people. But it was what they said that was putting her a bit off kilter. Luckily she was good at masking.
"Sooraya and Alani also aren't one of the Mansion's doctors. It takes a lot to keep things running," Jean said. Again, not entirely a lie. She picked up her plate and took a bite of her potato salad.
"Also...personal things have made me tired." Perhaps if she gave a crumb of reasoning it would stop the uncanny staring into her soul.
She nodded to the food table. "Looks like they added some freshly grilled chicken."
"Understand. Have also had personal things." Sharon gave her another long look, then flicked a tail.
"Want to try something," said the cat. "I can touch?"
Jean fell silent for a moment. "Okay," she said carefully.
Sharon moved the plate of food off the chair. "I shall not steal," she promised. "Sit." The ailuromorph waited patiently for Jean to get situated, then padded up beside her. Gently, she rested her great head on Jean's lap.
"Awkward," Sharon admitted. "But wait."
There was a moment of silence, and then the purr began.
The thrum was low and rhythmic. It rose and fell like tides washing over a beach, sending vibrations through Sharon's chest and into Jean. A warm sound, solid and somehow grounding. Comforting. It rolled over them like thunder.
Not sure how to react, it took a few long seconds for Jean to get over the idea of a giant cat laying on her lap in the middle of a giant party. Luckily she was somewhat tucked away from the crowd. It wasn't the most unusual thing to happen to her. But at least it wasn't something bad. She eventually closed her eyes and let the casual murmur of people fall away as she focused on the rumbling coming from Sharon. The sensation travelled from her head to her toes, odd, but...nice.
Sharon let the purring continue for a few minutes -- long enough to feel the other woman's breathing slow and her body relax. When equilibrium seemed to have been achieved she let the purr die away and carefully withdrew from Jean's lap.
"Purring usually between 20 and 140 Hz. Decreases stress, lowers blood pressure." Sharon licked her nose, suddenly uncharacteristically self-conscious. "Helpful?"
Jean opened her eyes. She did feel calmer. Not that she had been particularly on edge, or perhaps she was, just a little. Keeping out the thoughts of large groups of people all in one space could sometimes give her a headache, especially during parties. No matter how much experience she had with it.
"Helpful," she echoed with a smile. "Thank you."
It was hard to read on a feline face, but something about Sharon's posture managed to convey relief. It was as if, just for a moment, she'd been second-guessing herself.
"Used to do for my mother," said the cat, regaining her usual confidence. "Weird, but useful, maybe. Can do again upon request." She stretched luxuriously, as if allowing the last of the awkwardness to roll from her body, and switched her tail. "Pleasure to meet. Now shall pursue freshly grilled chicken."
Jean nodded a little. "Pleasure to meet you too," she said, the smile still on her face. She wasn't sure how to respond to some of that, but it wasn't a bad encounter. Not bad at all.
Chicken. Oh, there were some other sides, like potato salad and grilled fruit, but the big thing was the chicken. Sharon had spent her whole life as an obligate carnivore, and she wasn't going to start fighting it now.
And the plate was unattended. This was an invitation. Could she simply have browsed from the grill offerings, or requested something directly from Kyle? Of course. Was it as fun as taking food from someone else? No. This was urban hunting.
Moving stealthily, Sharon crept up behind the chair and reached for the chicken.
But her attempt was blocked by an invisible wall, preventing her from going any further. Denied.
"Ah, the food thief I've heard so much about. We meet at last," Jean said, having returned from her trip to the drink table with a bottle of water in hand.
Sharon didn't waste time acting ashamed. She'd already been caught in the act, and she wasn't. Besides, now she had something new to interest her. She patted at the seemingly solid barrier between her and the forbidden plate.
"What is this?" Sharon asked. She patted the air again. "I cannot get."
"Correct," Jean mused. "My chicken is off limits. Especially since there's a whole table to get your own from. You get the telekinetic bubble instead."
Sharon raised herself to her hind legs, gently exploring the curve of the bubble with her clawed hands.
"Smells like nothing," she remarked, clearly fascinated. "Feels like nothing also. Like repelling force between two opposing magnets." She collapsed back onto her haunches and gave the telekinetic a wounded look. "I cannot touch or climb. Unfair."
"I could make something you could climb but...that's for the Danger Room," Jean said with a smirk. "I'm Jean. Or Doctor Grey if you're feeling formal."
"I recognize. The one who was occupied with Jessica-who-is-new when I arrived, so not involved in deworming or flea dips. I am Sharon. Catseye, if you are feeling reverential." The cat stretched long, throwing her humanoid forelegs in front of her to knead at the grass as if the fact she'd just been caught red-handed was now all in the past. She gave her head a little shake before straightening to look up at Jean. "You are still very busy? Seem tired."
Jean paused, thrown off by the comment. "I...usually am," she admitted. "I try to keep myself busy." It wasn't entirely a lie.
"How are you enjoying the mansion so far?"
"Very exciting. Never been around so many people at once. Or so much food." With a predator's unerring instinct for vulnerability, Sharon continued to study Jean with her unblinking gaze. "Sooraya and Alani are always busy also. But do not seem tired like you."
Working with so many mutants over the years gave Jean a bit more of a tolerance for unusual people. But it was what they said that was putting her a bit off kilter. Luckily she was good at masking.
"Sooraya and Alani also aren't one of the Mansion's doctors. It takes a lot to keep things running," Jean said. Again, not entirely a lie. She picked up her plate and took a bite of her potato salad.
"Also...personal things have made me tired." Perhaps if she gave a crumb of reasoning it would stop the uncanny staring into her soul.
She nodded to the food table. "Looks like they added some freshly grilled chicken."
"Understand. Have also had personal things." Sharon gave her another long look, then flicked a tail.
"Want to try something," said the cat. "I can touch?"
Jean fell silent for a moment. "Okay," she said carefully.
Sharon moved the plate of food off the chair. "I shall not steal," she promised. "Sit." The ailuromorph waited patiently for Jean to get situated, then padded up beside her. Gently, she rested her great head on Jean's lap.
"Awkward," Sharon admitted. "But wait."
There was a moment of silence, and then the purr began.
The thrum was low and rhythmic. It rose and fell like tides washing over a beach, sending vibrations through Sharon's chest and into Jean. A warm sound, solid and somehow grounding. Comforting. It rolled over them like thunder.
Not sure how to react, it took a few long seconds for Jean to get over the idea of a giant cat laying on her lap in the middle of a giant party. Luckily she was somewhat tucked away from the crowd. It wasn't the most unusual thing to happen to her. But at least it wasn't something bad. She eventually closed her eyes and let the casual murmur of people fall away as she focused on the rumbling coming from Sharon. The sensation travelled from her head to her toes, odd, but...nice.
Sharon let the purring continue for a few minutes -- long enough to feel the other woman's breathing slow and her body relax. When equilibrium seemed to have been achieved she let the purr die away and carefully withdrew from Jean's lap.
"Purring usually between 20 and 140 Hz. Decreases stress, lowers blood pressure." Sharon licked her nose, suddenly uncharacteristically self-conscious. "Helpful?"
Jean opened her eyes. She did feel calmer. Not that she had been particularly on edge, or perhaps she was, just a little. Keeping out the thoughts of large groups of people all in one space could sometimes give her a headache, especially during parties. No matter how much experience she had with it.
"Helpful," she echoed with a smile. "Thank you."
It was hard to read on a feline face, but something about Sharon's posture managed to convey relief. It was as if, just for a moment, she'd been second-guessing herself.
"Used to do for my mother," said the cat, regaining her usual confidence. "Weird, but useful, maybe. Can do again upon request." She stretched luxuriously, as if allowing the last of the awkwardness to roll from her body, and switched her tail. "Pleasure to meet. Now shall pursue freshly grilled chicken."
Jean nodded a little. "Pleasure to meet you too," she said, the smile still on her face. She wasn't sure how to respond to some of that, but it wasn't a bad encounter. Not bad at all.
