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xp_logsShortly after revealing her human form, Sharon attracts the attention of Warren -- who, in turn, attracts the attention of Felicia.
Sharon was beginning to feel personally victimized by gravity. She'd only spent a few months as a quadruped, there was no reason her balance should be this poor. Granted, before leaving home she'd rarely gone more than a few hours without shifting to one form or the other, so perhaps she was just out of condition. However, as a concept martyrdom was the most appealing, so Sharon chose to err in that regard.
She was feeling particularly persecuted by the clothing situation -- first that she was required to wear it, and second that, due to her height, she was currently making due with a pair of yoga pants and cami top. It was just as well she still had to ration her shapeshifting. A sudden change was all it would take to find out exactly how a cat would wear pants, and given how stretchy the material was Sharon already knew the answer would be "badly".
Oh, well. She might concede to dressing like a person, but nothing said she had to move like one. Consequently when she was faced with a staircase Sharon did what she always did: take them on all fours. It was just common sense.
Another day, another boring teleconference. This time, Warren felt too antsy to sit in his office or even be at his office. Plus, he'd fallen asleep at the mansion and had zero desire to put on actual pants. Sweats and a t-shirt were enough for him today. He made himself a turkey and brie croissant -- homemade of course -- and wandered around while he made inane noises into his phone. Of course, that all had to stop, chewing included, when he rounded a corner and was confronted by an ass. An ass wearing yoga pants. Crawling up a set of stairs.
Literally crawling.
And the worst part was he didn't recognize who the woman was.
"Yeah ... so Stevens, you really need to do some more due diligence with this merger. Nothing you are saying makes me want to throw money at you and we know how much I love spending money." He took another bite and just watched.
It wasn't the voice that attracted her attention but the smell. Specifically, the smell of fresh pastry. Sharon paused halfway up the stairs, tail suddenly upright and twitching as she scented the air. Her head turned as if on a swivel.
"Warren Worthington," Sharon said, flexing her spine to nearly a 45 degree angle to regard him. Slowly, she rotated her pelvis to assume a comfortable sitting position, tucking her tail safely against the step. Minding where her limbs were positioned took more care than it normally would. She paid no mind to where his attention had been focused; hers was directed entirely towards the croissant in his hand. She licked her lips.
"I want that."
Oh there was a tail.
How had he not noticed until now? He pulled the phone away from his mouth and hissed "No, it's mine -- what? No Stevens, I wasn't talking to you. Why would I want your expense report? Don't you have an assistant?" Warren glared at Sharon and took another bite. It was weird to look at her very feline body in a non-feline way. He had no idea how to process all of this. She had an intriguing androgynous look to her that he wanted to capitalize on. "Anyways I'm done speaking with you. Get it together and then call Illyana. If she thinks your plan isn't stupid, then you can talk to me" He hung up and took a second bite, his sandwich now almost half-way done.
"Why are you not you right now?"
"Have no idea to what you are referring." Sharon walked her feet forward, lifted herself on the heels of her hands, and swung her body down to the next step without enduring the embarrassment of trying to stand. "Have been me my entire life. You are simply unobservant, maybe?" She repeated the action , one step closer to a flakey pastry crust.
"You're not a cat." He said it matter-of-factly. "You're a different you. Ergo not you." Another bite of his sandwich. "I am plenty observant. For instance, when I saw you crawling, I stopped because yours is not a body I've seen before. That is by nature observation ."
She'd finally made it to the ground floor. Sharon grabbed the banister and levered herself to her feet, then rose to her toes to stretch her legs. It felt good. It was important to remember to walk plantigrade, however. If she didn't she had a tendency to forget where her knees were.
"I am always cat," Sharon replied as she moved her tail like a counterweight for better balance. Feeling a little more stable, she removed one hand from the banister. "Difference is cosmetic only. Do your wings cease to exist just because they are covered?"
Warren watched Sharon curiously as she stood up. He was a tall man and she was almost his height. Her face had a certain androgyneity to it that he appreciated. It added to her black and white view of the world. With a heavy sigh, he handed her the last bite of his sandwich. "No, my wings do not cease to exist; however, I cease to think about them. I can't. I have a persona that I need to be successful and it does not involve wings." He put his phone into his suit pocket and tilted his head. "Are you always hungry? I am. High metabolism. There's more croissants in the kitchen if you want another sandwich."
"I have never had a persona in my life," Sharon replied with a perfectly straight face. She licked her lips. "And yes. Always hungry. Calories especially important if I am to continue assuming bodies heretofore unobserved by you."
"How many bodies do you have ?" Warren shook his head and motioned for Sharon to walk ahead of him. Her gait was intriguing and he kind of wanted to check her out properly. "You're a very strange individual."
The girl rolled her shoulders lazily. "So I have been told. Often at great volume. As for details of my body, this is for me to know and you to find out . . . or not." Sharon made for the kitchen and attempted a feline saunter, which largely involved swinging her tail as a counterbalance. The key was to walk with confidence. It only counted as a stumble if you acknowledged it.
"All right, that's enough of that."
Luck powers had several benefits; perfect aim, attention elsewhere, and even sometimes just happening to be in the right place at the right time. This was not that. This was, in Felicia's esteemed opinion, the universe that handed out her nine lives tapping her foot and reminding Felicia that she owed her. Apparently her bird brain of a best friend ogling asses now ranked high enough that she just happened to be there. Hopefully it was just a particular few, or this was going to be a very busy and annoying rest of her life.
"Absolutely not," she continued, smacking Warren upside the back of the head as she crossed to stand beside him.
"Ow!" Warren reached up and rubbed his head, glaring at Fi. "What was that for?" Spoiler: he knew exactly what it was for but honestly, he was just looking . "You're the one that always tells me to appreciate the finer things in life and that right there is a piece of art."
"Felicia." Sharon's face wasn't especially expressive, but when she saw who it was it brightened like a cloud had moved past the sun. Excitedly, she reversed course to breeze past Warren as if he was now nothing but an afterthought.
"It is Sharon." The clarification was probably unnecessary, but since some people appeared to be having trouble with this it only seemed polite. The girl gestured to herself, pleased she hadn't tripped on her way over. "I am human right now. Warren has promised sandwiches."
"Hello there, clever girl. This, like all of your forms, is very pretty," Felicia said, bringing her in for a brief hug. She glared death at Warren over Sharon's shoulder, her mouth very firmly forming the word 'NO', before pulling away, smiling. "Sandwiches you say?"
The younger girl's face glowed like a starstruck fan plucked from the crowd for a personal serenade. Felicia had bestowed her Approval upon her. Sharon's tail almost vibrated with pleasure.
"Yes." Sharon gestured to Warren with a clawed hand. "We are on our way to prepare food and discuss my body."
Warren nodded. "What she said. Sandwiches first though, and then we discuss why she is human and not a cat." He grinned at Felicia. "Would you like to join us? It'll be revelatory, I'm sure. Also, you know you want a sandwich and to be mad at me later. This is melding your two favourite things."
Felicia opened her mouth to make a sharp retort, something about carbs, before flicking her focus over to Sharon and instead rolling her tongue along an incisor. "I would very much like to join Sharon for sandwiches," Felicia shot back, cheshire. "That you make. Revolution."
The girl beamed. "You will join us? We will eat at the table. I will use a chair," she added, since her preferred habit of dragging meals underneath the table was slightly less appropriate in this form. Forgetting herself, Sharon grabbed one of Felicia's hands in hers and excitedly tugged her toward the kitchen. However, her pleasure at the prospect of a meal shared with Felicia wasn't enough to undercut the essential Cat of her nature. She shot Warren a sly smile. "Correct, Warren must serve. I now have guest to entertain. It is only proper."
"Oh, I'm the one being entertained," he shot back, a huge grin as he rolled up his sleeves. "Please, tell me more about your fascinating body. I can listen all day."
Sharon was beginning to feel personally victimized by gravity. She'd only spent a few months as a quadruped, there was no reason her balance should be this poor. Granted, before leaving home she'd rarely gone more than a few hours without shifting to one form or the other, so perhaps she was just out of condition. However, as a concept martyrdom was the most appealing, so Sharon chose to err in that regard.
She was feeling particularly persecuted by the clothing situation -- first that she was required to wear it, and second that, due to her height, she was currently making due with a pair of yoga pants and cami top. It was just as well she still had to ration her shapeshifting. A sudden change was all it would take to find out exactly how a cat would wear pants, and given how stretchy the material was Sharon already knew the answer would be "badly".
Oh, well. She might concede to dressing like a person, but nothing said she had to move like one. Consequently when she was faced with a staircase Sharon did what she always did: take them on all fours. It was just common sense.
Another day, another boring teleconference. This time, Warren felt too antsy to sit in his office or even be at his office. Plus, he'd fallen asleep at the mansion and had zero desire to put on actual pants. Sweats and a t-shirt were enough for him today. He made himself a turkey and brie croissant -- homemade of course -- and wandered around while he made inane noises into his phone. Of course, that all had to stop, chewing included, when he rounded a corner and was confronted by an ass. An ass wearing yoga pants. Crawling up a set of stairs.
Literally crawling.
And the worst part was he didn't recognize who the woman was.
"Yeah ... so Stevens, you really need to do some more due diligence with this merger. Nothing you are saying makes me want to throw money at you and we know how much I love spending money." He took another bite and just watched.
It wasn't the voice that attracted her attention but the smell. Specifically, the smell of fresh pastry. Sharon paused halfway up the stairs, tail suddenly upright and twitching as she scented the air. Her head turned as if on a swivel.
"Warren Worthington," Sharon said, flexing her spine to nearly a 45 degree angle to regard him. Slowly, she rotated her pelvis to assume a comfortable sitting position, tucking her tail safely against the step. Minding where her limbs were positioned took more care than it normally would. She paid no mind to where his attention had been focused; hers was directed entirely towards the croissant in his hand. She licked her lips.
"I want that."
Oh there was a tail.
How had he not noticed until now? He pulled the phone away from his mouth and hissed "No, it's mine -- what? No Stevens, I wasn't talking to you. Why would I want your expense report? Don't you have an assistant?" Warren glared at Sharon and took another bite. It was weird to look at her very feline body in a non-feline way. He had no idea how to process all of this. She had an intriguing androgynous look to her that he wanted to capitalize on. "Anyways I'm done speaking with you. Get it together and then call Illyana. If she thinks your plan isn't stupid, then you can talk to me" He hung up and took a second bite, his sandwich now almost half-way done.
"Why are you not you right now?"
"Have no idea to what you are referring." Sharon walked her feet forward, lifted herself on the heels of her hands, and swung her body down to the next step without enduring the embarrassment of trying to stand. "Have been me my entire life. You are simply unobservant, maybe?" She repeated the action , one step closer to a flakey pastry crust.
"You're not a cat." He said it matter-of-factly. "You're a different you. Ergo not you." Another bite of his sandwich. "I am plenty observant. For instance, when I saw you crawling, I stopped because yours is not a body I've seen before. That is by nature observation ."
She'd finally made it to the ground floor. Sharon grabbed the banister and levered herself to her feet, then rose to her toes to stretch her legs. It felt good. It was important to remember to walk plantigrade, however. If she didn't she had a tendency to forget where her knees were.
"I am always cat," Sharon replied as she moved her tail like a counterweight for better balance. Feeling a little more stable, she removed one hand from the banister. "Difference is cosmetic only. Do your wings cease to exist just because they are covered?"
Warren watched Sharon curiously as she stood up. He was a tall man and she was almost his height. Her face had a certain androgyneity to it that he appreciated. It added to her black and white view of the world. With a heavy sigh, he handed her the last bite of his sandwich. "No, my wings do not cease to exist; however, I cease to think about them. I can't. I have a persona that I need to be successful and it does not involve wings." He put his phone into his suit pocket and tilted his head. "Are you always hungry? I am. High metabolism. There's more croissants in the kitchen if you want another sandwich."
"I have never had a persona in my life," Sharon replied with a perfectly straight face. She licked her lips. "And yes. Always hungry. Calories especially important if I am to continue assuming bodies heretofore unobserved by you."
"How many bodies do you have ?" Warren shook his head and motioned for Sharon to walk ahead of him. Her gait was intriguing and he kind of wanted to check her out properly. "You're a very strange individual."
The girl rolled her shoulders lazily. "So I have been told. Often at great volume. As for details of my body, this is for me to know and you to find out . . . or not." Sharon made for the kitchen and attempted a feline saunter, which largely involved swinging her tail as a counterbalance. The key was to walk with confidence. It only counted as a stumble if you acknowledged it.
"All right, that's enough of that."
Luck powers had several benefits; perfect aim, attention elsewhere, and even sometimes just happening to be in the right place at the right time. This was not that. This was, in Felicia's esteemed opinion, the universe that handed out her nine lives tapping her foot and reminding Felicia that she owed her. Apparently her bird brain of a best friend ogling asses now ranked high enough that she just happened to be there. Hopefully it was just a particular few, or this was going to be a very busy and annoying rest of her life.
"Absolutely not," she continued, smacking Warren upside the back of the head as she crossed to stand beside him.
"Ow!" Warren reached up and rubbed his head, glaring at Fi. "What was that for?" Spoiler: he knew exactly what it was for but honestly, he was just looking . "You're the one that always tells me to appreciate the finer things in life and that right there is a piece of art."
"Felicia." Sharon's face wasn't especially expressive, but when she saw who it was it brightened like a cloud had moved past the sun. Excitedly, she reversed course to breeze past Warren as if he was now nothing but an afterthought.
"It is Sharon." The clarification was probably unnecessary, but since some people appeared to be having trouble with this it only seemed polite. The girl gestured to herself, pleased she hadn't tripped on her way over. "I am human right now. Warren has promised sandwiches."
"Hello there, clever girl. This, like all of your forms, is very pretty," Felicia said, bringing her in for a brief hug. She glared death at Warren over Sharon's shoulder, her mouth very firmly forming the word 'NO', before pulling away, smiling. "Sandwiches you say?"
The younger girl's face glowed like a starstruck fan plucked from the crowd for a personal serenade. Felicia had bestowed her Approval upon her. Sharon's tail almost vibrated with pleasure.
"Yes." Sharon gestured to Warren with a clawed hand. "We are on our way to prepare food and discuss my body."
Warren nodded. "What she said. Sandwiches first though, and then we discuss why she is human and not a cat." He grinned at Felicia. "Would you like to join us? It'll be revelatory, I'm sure. Also, you know you want a sandwich and to be mad at me later. This is melding your two favourite things."
Felicia opened her mouth to make a sharp retort, something about carbs, before flicking her focus over to Sharon and instead rolling her tongue along an incisor. "I would very much like to join Sharon for sandwiches," Felicia shot back, cheshire. "That you make. Revolution."
The girl beamed. "You will join us? We will eat at the table. I will use a chair," she added, since her preferred habit of dragging meals underneath the table was slightly less appropriate in this form. Forgetting herself, Sharon grabbed one of Felicia's hands in hers and excitedly tugged her toward the kitchen. However, her pleasure at the prospect of a meal shared with Felicia wasn't enough to undercut the essential Cat of her nature. She shot Warren a sly smile. "Correct, Warren must serve. I now have guest to entertain. It is only proper."
"Oh, I'm the one being entertained," he shot back, a huge grin as he rolled up his sleeves. "Please, tell me more about your fascinating body. I can listen all day."
