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xp_logs(Backdated) April is still stuck, bored out of her mind, and in need of Enrichment. Sharon supplies, with various reactions from Marie-Ange, Alex, Inez, Jubilee, Artie, and Namor as their merry chase has them zooming through the mansion.
Sharon, as was her wont, had been watching for some time. There was something very satisfying about watching someone while remaining unperceived herself. She liked to stalk.
Still, though, occasionally her observations revealed something that seemed to require her intervention, and this seemed to be such a case. Finally, Sharon reached a decision and padded into the gym to address its lone occupant.
"You are in distress?"
April stopped her half-hearted kicking at the bag, pivoting on her other foot to face the voice. Oh, Sharon. She didn't know if the other woman could sign, so she leaped to her bag, pulling out the proloquo. Several careful taps later, the electronic voice chimed "I am bored and hungry. Tired of stuck."
"Yes. I have heard this." Sharon was well below eye level at the moment, having declined to be bipedal today; some days clothes were simply too oppressive. The great purple hybrid raised herself onto her hind legs for a better look at April's transformed face, ears twitched forward and whiskers quivering with attention.
"You said you shifted entirely only once before," Sharon mused as she studied April's pupiless eyes without a hint of self-consciousness or discomfort. "I recall this from first meeting. This form is to what you referred?"
April nodded, wide white eyes fixed on Sharon's face. She bared her teeth, showing off the sharp points stretching much farther across her face than normal as she searched for the right buttons. "You can look," sounded between them, and she opened her mouth wide enough that Sharon could see the differences up close. "Will not bite."
Sharon clicked her teeth playfully. "I would bite back," she vowed. The cat peered into April's huge eyes, tilting her head this way and that. "Thought at first eyes would be compound, like insect, but of course spider eyes are single lense. Still forward-facing, but size is considerable. Assume field of vision has expanded accordingly. Must be greatly advantageous." Her yellow eyes traveled downward. "Nose is reduced, but is expected. Olfaction is often sacrificed for visual acuity. Tendrils also aid in tactile discrimination, maybe. Teeth I see are adapted to pierce and tear."
Satisfied, Sharon lumbered back a few steps and dropped back to her haunches. "Is very impressive, this form. Pleasingly sleek also. I approve."
A few tendrils reached out, chasing, but mostly April sat still for a few seconds in intense concentration until a tail-like tendril appeared on her lower back. "I am cat," the electronic voice chimed. She moved to sit on her haunches like Sharon, tendril-turned-tail curling around her ankles.
Sharon crouched, hindquarters raised and hips wiggling to display her own. "If only you were so lucky," she said. "But I understand. Like cat, you cannot speak. Know this feeling well. Spent large part of this year as such. Fortunately speech is not crucial. You are bored? Then you must catch."
With a sudden burst of power Sharon darted to the side, flowing all the way into a big cat as she did. She launched herself into the air and hit the heavy bag April had so recently been using, sinking the claws of all four feet into the fabric as the momentum rocked it to the side. The cat stiffened, bunched her muscles, and used the next swing to launch herself into the air and well on her way to the gym door.
The tendril wrapped around her feet flicked in interest, and she leapt from her position, chasing after Sharon with a rumbling noise of joy. Amusement flowed through her mind as she bounded through the halls, chasing the large cat in front of her through the gym doors and the hall.
Walking through the halls while typing out an email on her phone was supposed to be only a very slightly bad idea. Marie-Ange had ears, she usually could tell when someone was approaching even if she was lost in trying to arrange a meeting between Topaz and a network administrator for a hospital in Kingston upon Hull. It should have been a simple meeting, it was turning into negotiations, and they had not even made contact.
She backspaced furiously, re-wrote a sentence and then heard the thud of running, and had just enough time to leap backwards into the wall as catastrophe of purple ran down the hall, followed by a shamble of black and blue and white. Her phone, mercifully, was in a protective case, and landed on the hardwood floor with no damage. Her double-blended chestnut praline frappe with salted caramel drizzle also landed on the floor, bottom down, straw up, and with only one splash to give any evidence of the chaos.
One splash - all along Marie-Ange's foot, ankle and calf, dripping down suede boots.
Normally, April would stop and apologize. But also normally, April was human and wouldn't be running down the hallways like this. Instead, she flung herself around a corner, narrowly missing the blonde man near the landing as she stretched a hand towards Sharon's back leg and missed.
Alex was yawning as he made his way down the hall. He was hungry, and nothing in Scott's suite or his own was appealing to him, so down to the kitchen he went. He was about to step off the last step onto the landing...
When something ran by him.
What it was, he couldn't say. It seemed to be a purple and black and blue blur, and maybe he heard growling? Impossible to tell. But then it was gone, and Alex was alone. He looked around, waiting for someone to confirm what he had seen, then pressed a hand to his forehead. He'd really thought the fever had broken.
"Scoooooooott," he whined as he turned to go back upstairs, hunger forgotten.
*****
Inez had been having a relatively good day - she'd taken it off from work, had gotten to sleep in, and had just finished a good workout that had her heart thumping in that sweet spot. The only thing she wanted now was something to replenish her reserves, and while she pondered just what might do the trick on her way to the kitchen she didn't pay attention to her surroundings. A momentary lapse, to be sure, but she was in the mansion and what could happen to her there?
So when she nearly tripped up over a purple lightning bolt that sizzled past her shins, she cursed, loudly. "Th' fuc-" she started, reaching out with one arm to brace herself against the wall, only to be interrupted by a second unidentified flying object thunder by her other side, throwing off her newfound balance.
Inez's hand slid down the wall and she fell, her shoulder banging into the wall, and she managed to turn that into a controlled slide down onto her backside as she looked off into the distance where those two blurry figures kept racing away from her.
"Th' fuck?!"
'Whoops,' April thought as she clipped the pretty blonde. Sharon was gaining, though, and she couldn't let the other woman win. Not by a large margin, at least. A tendril slipped free enough to pat the woman on the leg as she disappeared down the hall and through an open door.
****
Jubilee had a look of intense concentration on her face as she slowly placed the last domino in the fractal pattern she’d been working on for the better part of the morning.
She was currently hanging upside down from the ceiling, having jury rigged silks to allow her to move across the room while not disturbing any of the Rube Goldberg machine she’d been building.
Unfortunately for her subscribers on Patreon, the sudden whirlwind of two agents of chaos darting into the room in a flash of purple and black speed, setting off various parts of the machine and getting slightly caught up only to tear out with a series of yowls and cursing growls was not something Jubilee would be placing on the Internet.
Even if it did leave her laughing helplessly as the two culprits made a quick exit back out of the room.
“Dudes, you so owe me dinner when I see you next.”
A sleek tendril waved an acknowledgement as April fled the room, still hot on the heels of the speedy purple menace in front of her.
******
Sharon's idea of a merry chase had sent her past, over, and occasionally through many obstacles, but there was one deterrent powerful enough to force a change of direction: glimpsing the diminutive form of Artie Maddicks at the end of a hallway. The cat scrambled to get all four legs underneath her as she implemented an emergency change of trajectory, veered away from the traitorous hallway, and had just enough time to begin congratulating her own reflexes before almost colliding with Namor.
Namor, who was not, in fact, a man, had developed the ability to manspread his aura of royalty across the entirety of the conjoining hallway. He stood much like a brick wall — solidly impenetrable, suitably dense to any sympathies, and difficult to break his attention as the only immediate reaction he gave to the barreling purple menace was an ear twitch. He patiently folded a dog-ear in his current book before deigning to look down in disappointment.
No words. No critique. Just a single, skeptical eyebrow.
It took all four of her legs working at maximum splay to bring Sharon to a stop before she could take the knees out from beneath the ruler of Atlantis. She did not, however, reckon with April's hot pursuit.
April barreled into Sharon's sudden stop with a flurry of limbs and tendrils and a momentum that had them both skidding into Namor's legs. She looked at Sharon. Looked up at Namor. Back to Sharon, then reached out a tendril and lightly tapped Sharon's nose. "BOOP," she managed to rumble gleefully, before taking off and out onto the grounds.
Many things could be performed with dignity, but disentangling oneself from the winged ankles of another person was not one of them. Sharon was faced with two options: the route of self-respect, where she apologized to Namor, or the coward's route, where she rewrote the recent past and continued on with her life as if the incident had never happened.
The decision was obvious. Without a word Sharon folded her mass into that of a housecat, darted through Namor's legs, and took off after April. Self-respect was for bipeds.
Namor, alone, once again, chose to only recognize what had just happened with an imperial grade sigh before returning to his reading.
Sharon, as was her wont, had been watching for some time. There was something very satisfying about watching someone while remaining unperceived herself. She liked to stalk.
Still, though, occasionally her observations revealed something that seemed to require her intervention, and this seemed to be such a case. Finally, Sharon reached a decision and padded into the gym to address its lone occupant.
"You are in distress?"
April stopped her half-hearted kicking at the bag, pivoting on her other foot to face the voice. Oh, Sharon. She didn't know if the other woman could sign, so she leaped to her bag, pulling out the proloquo. Several careful taps later, the electronic voice chimed "I am bored and hungry. Tired of stuck."
"Yes. I have heard this." Sharon was well below eye level at the moment, having declined to be bipedal today; some days clothes were simply too oppressive. The great purple hybrid raised herself onto her hind legs for a better look at April's transformed face, ears twitched forward and whiskers quivering with attention.
"You said you shifted entirely only once before," Sharon mused as she studied April's pupiless eyes without a hint of self-consciousness or discomfort. "I recall this from first meeting. This form is to what you referred?"
April nodded, wide white eyes fixed on Sharon's face. She bared her teeth, showing off the sharp points stretching much farther across her face than normal as she searched for the right buttons. "You can look," sounded between them, and she opened her mouth wide enough that Sharon could see the differences up close. "Will not bite."
Sharon clicked her teeth playfully. "I would bite back," she vowed. The cat peered into April's huge eyes, tilting her head this way and that. "Thought at first eyes would be compound, like insect, but of course spider eyes are single lense. Still forward-facing, but size is considerable. Assume field of vision has expanded accordingly. Must be greatly advantageous." Her yellow eyes traveled downward. "Nose is reduced, but is expected. Olfaction is often sacrificed for visual acuity. Tendrils also aid in tactile discrimination, maybe. Teeth I see are adapted to pierce and tear."
Satisfied, Sharon lumbered back a few steps and dropped back to her haunches. "Is very impressive, this form. Pleasingly sleek also. I approve."
A few tendrils reached out, chasing, but mostly April sat still for a few seconds in intense concentration until a tail-like tendril appeared on her lower back. "I am cat," the electronic voice chimed. She moved to sit on her haunches like Sharon, tendril-turned-tail curling around her ankles.
Sharon crouched, hindquarters raised and hips wiggling to display her own. "If only you were so lucky," she said. "But I understand. Like cat, you cannot speak. Know this feeling well. Spent large part of this year as such. Fortunately speech is not crucial. You are bored? Then you must catch."
With a sudden burst of power Sharon darted to the side, flowing all the way into a big cat as she did. She launched herself into the air and hit the heavy bag April had so recently been using, sinking the claws of all four feet into the fabric as the momentum rocked it to the side. The cat stiffened, bunched her muscles, and used the next swing to launch herself into the air and well on her way to the gym door.
The tendril wrapped around her feet flicked in interest, and she leapt from her position, chasing after Sharon with a rumbling noise of joy. Amusement flowed through her mind as she bounded through the halls, chasing the large cat in front of her through the gym doors and the hall.
Walking through the halls while typing out an email on her phone was supposed to be only a very slightly bad idea. Marie-Ange had ears, she usually could tell when someone was approaching even if she was lost in trying to arrange a meeting between Topaz and a network administrator for a hospital in Kingston upon Hull. It should have been a simple meeting, it was turning into negotiations, and they had not even made contact.
She backspaced furiously, re-wrote a sentence and then heard the thud of running, and had just enough time to leap backwards into the wall as catastrophe of purple ran down the hall, followed by a shamble of black and blue and white. Her phone, mercifully, was in a protective case, and landed on the hardwood floor with no damage. Her double-blended chestnut praline frappe with salted caramel drizzle also landed on the floor, bottom down, straw up, and with only one splash to give any evidence of the chaos.
One splash - all along Marie-Ange's foot, ankle and calf, dripping down suede boots.
Normally, April would stop and apologize. But also normally, April was human and wouldn't be running down the hallways like this. Instead, she flung herself around a corner, narrowly missing the blonde man near the landing as she stretched a hand towards Sharon's back leg and missed.
Alex was yawning as he made his way down the hall. He was hungry, and nothing in Scott's suite or his own was appealing to him, so down to the kitchen he went. He was about to step off the last step onto the landing...
When something ran by him.
What it was, he couldn't say. It seemed to be a purple and black and blue blur, and maybe he heard growling? Impossible to tell. But then it was gone, and Alex was alone. He looked around, waiting for someone to confirm what he had seen, then pressed a hand to his forehead. He'd really thought the fever had broken.
"Scoooooooott," he whined as he turned to go back upstairs, hunger forgotten.
*****
Inez had been having a relatively good day - she'd taken it off from work, had gotten to sleep in, and had just finished a good workout that had her heart thumping in that sweet spot. The only thing she wanted now was something to replenish her reserves, and while she pondered just what might do the trick on her way to the kitchen she didn't pay attention to her surroundings. A momentary lapse, to be sure, but she was in the mansion and what could happen to her there?
So when she nearly tripped up over a purple lightning bolt that sizzled past her shins, she cursed, loudly. "Th' fuc-" she started, reaching out with one arm to brace herself against the wall, only to be interrupted by a second unidentified flying object thunder by her other side, throwing off her newfound balance.
Inez's hand slid down the wall and she fell, her shoulder banging into the wall, and she managed to turn that into a controlled slide down onto her backside as she looked off into the distance where those two blurry figures kept racing away from her.
"Th' fuck?!"
'Whoops,' April thought as she clipped the pretty blonde. Sharon was gaining, though, and she couldn't let the other woman win. Not by a large margin, at least. A tendril slipped free enough to pat the woman on the leg as she disappeared down the hall and through an open door.
****
Jubilee had a look of intense concentration on her face as she slowly placed the last domino in the fractal pattern she’d been working on for the better part of the morning.
She was currently hanging upside down from the ceiling, having jury rigged silks to allow her to move across the room while not disturbing any of the Rube Goldberg machine she’d been building.
Unfortunately for her subscribers on Patreon, the sudden whirlwind of two agents of chaos darting into the room in a flash of purple and black speed, setting off various parts of the machine and getting slightly caught up only to tear out with a series of yowls and cursing growls was not something Jubilee would be placing on the Internet.
Even if it did leave her laughing helplessly as the two culprits made a quick exit back out of the room.
“Dudes, you so owe me dinner when I see you next.”
A sleek tendril waved an acknowledgement as April fled the room, still hot on the heels of the speedy purple menace in front of her.
******
Sharon's idea of a merry chase had sent her past, over, and occasionally through many obstacles, but there was one deterrent powerful enough to force a change of direction: glimpsing the diminutive form of Artie Maddicks at the end of a hallway. The cat scrambled to get all four legs underneath her as she implemented an emergency change of trajectory, veered away from the traitorous hallway, and had just enough time to begin congratulating her own reflexes before almost colliding with Namor.
Namor, who was not, in fact, a man, had developed the ability to manspread his aura of royalty across the entirety of the conjoining hallway. He stood much like a brick wall — solidly impenetrable, suitably dense to any sympathies, and difficult to break his attention as the only immediate reaction he gave to the barreling purple menace was an ear twitch. He patiently folded a dog-ear in his current book before deigning to look down in disappointment.
No words. No critique. Just a single, skeptical eyebrow.
It took all four of her legs working at maximum splay to bring Sharon to a stop before she could take the knees out from beneath the ruler of Atlantis. She did not, however, reckon with April's hot pursuit.
April barreled into Sharon's sudden stop with a flurry of limbs and tendrils and a momentum that had them both skidding into Namor's legs. She looked at Sharon. Looked up at Namor. Back to Sharon, then reached out a tendril and lightly tapped Sharon's nose. "BOOP," she managed to rumble gleefully, before taking off and out onto the grounds.
Many things could be performed with dignity, but disentangling oneself from the winged ankles of another person was not one of them. Sharon was faced with two options: the route of self-respect, where she apologized to Namor, or the coward's route, where she rewrote the recent past and continued on with her life as if the incident had never happened.
The decision was obvious. Without a word Sharon folded her mass into that of a housecat, darted through Namor's legs, and took off after April. Self-respect was for bipeds.
Namor, alone, once again, chose to only recognize what had just happened with an imperial grade sigh before returning to his reading.
