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xp_logs(slightly backdated) Madin stumbles upon Match and Sharon cleaning up following her Valentine’s gift.
Match watched Sharon roll in the snow, meat and frozen blood around her maw as the big cat held her watermelon. His stomach was knotted, but he kept a brave face as the purple cat enjoyed her gift. “I think that’s all the meat, Cats. I only got two pounds. And I took out all the seeds.” He added.
The great cat, currently on her back with the rind held to her mouth with both paws, paused in her happy rolling to gaze up at Match. A satisfied rumble sounded deep in her throat before she gave the rind one last swipe with her tongue and pulled away. Her tongue flicked out to touch her nose, now smeared with watermelon and chunks of ground hamburger.
“Hmm, gotta hose you off, you know that, right? There’s no way we’re not gonna make a mess if you’re covered in,” a slight gag but he soldiered on, “covered in bits.” Hose in hand, Match turned the faucet to begin a steady stream of water. Slowly he shuffled towards her, treating the girl more like a big cat and unwilling to startle her.
Sharon made a grumbling noise but climbed to her feet, raining little chunks of snow and meat. Normally she would have protested, but he had just bought her a very nice Valentine's Day dinner. A bath with her husband was probably customary.
Sharon padded up to Match, braced herself on the pavement, and gave herself a hard shake.
Madin walked around the corner of the mansion in time to see Sharon shake herself off, red mist dotted with chunks (of meat??) and pieces of watermelon rind splattering the otherwise fairly pristine walk and Match.
"What the fuck?"
Match cringed at the question more than the mess that had become the front of his jeans, spray of water splashing more onto the sidewalk than he’d meant. Turning, he saw Madin and the panicked shock turned confusion. “Oh, hey Madin. We were celebrating Valentine's Day.”
In deference to the fact they were now in mixed company, Sharon shifted enough that her mouth was able to fulfill a function beyond mangling. "Is true," she affirmed with a lazy flick of her fail. "We are enjoying a day of domestic bliss. Husband has received clothing for our children, and I have received round meat."
Mince, mixed with watermelon was unfortunately liquid. And red. "Jesus. It looks like you fucking killed a pig out here." Madin sighed. "Youse are gonna have to clean that up. It's going to freeze again tonight." The mechanics of living in a cold climate had involved asking Kyle and Liam a lot of questions about things like "Why is there ice everywhere?" and "What the hell shoes do I wear for work? I didn't know snow soaked everything wet." At this point, all that was clear was that this was going to become Madin's stupid frozen mess tomorrow if they weren't careful.
“No, it was just ground beef, I put it into a watermelon for Cats,” Match explained rather calmly now that he wasn’t afraid of being berated. “It’s just… real red.” He returned to the task of carefully cleaning said red mixture.
"Is biodegradable," Sharon pointed out.
"I mean, yeah, but it's also on the path and it's going to turn into ice. You need to clean that up before it freezes or do sand or something, I don't know. I've never lived somewhere this cold before."
Sharon regarded Madin for a long, unblinking moment before she looked back to Match.
"This is noted, husband?" she said. "The path must not be frozen over."
“Huh? Oh, okay. Cats, you stay still, okay?” There was the belief that the mostly cat-girl understood what was about to happen as Match snapped his fingers. He was, of course, very careful to keep Sharon in mind as a flame moved down the path to dissipate the water. Oh, right, water. “Madin, could you turn the hose off?”
They obeyed, turning the tap off and unhooking the hose again.
Perfect. Match laid down his end of the hose to use his dominant hand to focus. "Okay, don't move, Cats." Which was as much warning he gave before he began to move the flame. There was the unfortunate point that the stray pieces of meat sizzled as he moved the fire to make sure the path was clear.
Sharon remained still as the flame split around her like water parting to either side of a stone. She said nothing, but the look she shot Madin was equal parts proud and smug. A faint scent of burnt meat hung in the air.
Madin grinned. "That's pretty cool." They frowned for a moment. "Hey, want to make a bit of money? I have some funds for a contractor and I have to pay him like $32 an hour to do the driveways evvery time it snows. I'll give you $25 an hour cash if you can just keep the drives and paths snow free and also, like, not muddy."
The fire flickered, pausing in its movement, before disappearing all at once, almost as if it hadn't been there at all if you ignored the area of perfectly dry walkway surrounded by snow and cooked bits of beef. Match cocked his head at Sharon, using every ounce of his brain to see if he could suddenly develop telepathy and ask the question internally rather than out loud. Not this time. There was always next time. "Is that a good deal?"
Sharon stepped forward with a dismissive lash of her tail. "Payment shall be no less than $35 per hour. You see how swiftly he works. His labor will entail a fraction of the time required by contractor. With this arrangement additional convenience is yours also. Do not forget husband has a household to support, and in his other job he is sometimes paid in lizards."
"I'm not paying $35 unless he's willing to register himself as a business so Kyle doesn't go ape and all that jazz. $25 is my limit for a cashie. That's cool, though, I'll ask Hope. I can probably get her to do it for $10."
"More per hour for vastly fewer hours is simply good fiscal sense. As for your alternative -- you would ask her?" The cat's voice dripped with disdain. "Her, who is the very reason we still endure drafts in our halls and require a full kitchen remodel? The money saved will be outstripped a hundred times over in landscaping fees. Besides" and here Sharon circled Madin like a lioness circling its prey, "was it not you who was so insistent husband apply his powers more often, and to greater good? Yet now when you see evidence of his skill you would renege on this simply because the worth of his labor is known."
Madin resisted the urge to turn to follow her. "$28." That was said with finality.
"$30 per hour. For far fewer hours, as I said, and the convenience of an in-house service. A contractor must first make the journey. Match need only step out the door." Sharon paused in front of Madin and looked up at him with her huge yellow eyes. "I must be firm. After all, husband has many mouths to feed."
"Nah. That's too high. Sorry we couldn't work it out." Madin turned and began to walk away.
Sharon watched them leave, then flicked her tail in the manner of a shrug and turned to Match.
"I am sorry for taking this opportunity from you, husband," she said, "but is my duty to see you are not exploited. Your pay should be commensurate with your worth."
Madin stopped walking and turned back. "Christ, Sharon. Don't you know how bargaining is supposed to work? You follow me when I walk away, because you want me to give you money. Figures though. Rich kid like you'd have no fucking clue." They eyed Match. There was no way he was going to say yes after Sharon had said no and it wasn't like Jones paid much. "I'll do you the $30." They muttered this reluctantly. "You don't want to do it, use half to hire Jono or Hope or like, find another fire mutant."
Match almost felt bad watching Sharon haggle wages up, but thirty dollars an hour was like a million dollars that he could put towards a rainy day. “That’s a good deal,” while the end of the sentence rose he looked to Sharon for any obvious rejection of the offer. Finding none, he turned to Madin and nodded. “Alright, I wanna be not bloody but then I can come back and finish clearing the snow. I’ll let you know how long it took when I’m done. That good?”
"Sounds good. Catch you around, bro." Madin gave him a little wave and began to head back down the path.
Sharon waited for Madin to get out of earshot, then turned to Match with an air of smug self-satisfaction.
"You see, husband? Where would you be without me?"
Match watched Sharon roll in the snow, meat and frozen blood around her maw as the big cat held her watermelon. His stomach was knotted, but he kept a brave face as the purple cat enjoyed her gift. “I think that’s all the meat, Cats. I only got two pounds. And I took out all the seeds.” He added.
The great cat, currently on her back with the rind held to her mouth with both paws, paused in her happy rolling to gaze up at Match. A satisfied rumble sounded deep in her throat before she gave the rind one last swipe with her tongue and pulled away. Her tongue flicked out to touch her nose, now smeared with watermelon and chunks of ground hamburger.
“Hmm, gotta hose you off, you know that, right? There’s no way we’re not gonna make a mess if you’re covered in,” a slight gag but he soldiered on, “covered in bits.” Hose in hand, Match turned the faucet to begin a steady stream of water. Slowly he shuffled towards her, treating the girl more like a big cat and unwilling to startle her.
Sharon made a grumbling noise but climbed to her feet, raining little chunks of snow and meat. Normally she would have protested, but he had just bought her a very nice Valentine's Day dinner. A bath with her husband was probably customary.
Sharon padded up to Match, braced herself on the pavement, and gave herself a hard shake.
Madin walked around the corner of the mansion in time to see Sharon shake herself off, red mist dotted with chunks (of meat??) and pieces of watermelon rind splattering the otherwise fairly pristine walk and Match.
"What the fuck?"
Match cringed at the question more than the mess that had become the front of his jeans, spray of water splashing more onto the sidewalk than he’d meant. Turning, he saw Madin and the panicked shock turned confusion. “Oh, hey Madin. We were celebrating Valentine's Day.”
In deference to the fact they were now in mixed company, Sharon shifted enough that her mouth was able to fulfill a function beyond mangling. "Is true," she affirmed with a lazy flick of her fail. "We are enjoying a day of domestic bliss. Husband has received clothing for our children, and I have received round meat."
Mince, mixed with watermelon was unfortunately liquid. And red. "Jesus. It looks like you fucking killed a pig out here." Madin sighed. "Youse are gonna have to clean that up. It's going to freeze again tonight." The mechanics of living in a cold climate had involved asking Kyle and Liam a lot of questions about things like "Why is there ice everywhere?" and "What the hell shoes do I wear for work? I didn't know snow soaked everything wet." At this point, all that was clear was that this was going to become Madin's stupid frozen mess tomorrow if they weren't careful.
“No, it was just ground beef, I put it into a watermelon for Cats,” Match explained rather calmly now that he wasn’t afraid of being berated. “It’s just… real red.” He returned to the task of carefully cleaning said red mixture.
"Is biodegradable," Sharon pointed out.
"I mean, yeah, but it's also on the path and it's going to turn into ice. You need to clean that up before it freezes or do sand or something, I don't know. I've never lived somewhere this cold before."
Sharon regarded Madin for a long, unblinking moment before she looked back to Match.
"This is noted, husband?" she said. "The path must not be frozen over."
“Huh? Oh, okay. Cats, you stay still, okay?” There was the belief that the mostly cat-girl understood what was about to happen as Match snapped his fingers. He was, of course, very careful to keep Sharon in mind as a flame moved down the path to dissipate the water. Oh, right, water. “Madin, could you turn the hose off?”
They obeyed, turning the tap off and unhooking the hose again.
Perfect. Match laid down his end of the hose to use his dominant hand to focus. "Okay, don't move, Cats." Which was as much warning he gave before he began to move the flame. There was the unfortunate point that the stray pieces of meat sizzled as he moved the fire to make sure the path was clear.
Sharon remained still as the flame split around her like water parting to either side of a stone. She said nothing, but the look she shot Madin was equal parts proud and smug. A faint scent of burnt meat hung in the air.
Madin grinned. "That's pretty cool." They frowned for a moment. "Hey, want to make a bit of money? I have some funds for a contractor and I have to pay him like $32 an hour to do the driveways evvery time it snows. I'll give you $25 an hour cash if you can just keep the drives and paths snow free and also, like, not muddy."
The fire flickered, pausing in its movement, before disappearing all at once, almost as if it hadn't been there at all if you ignored the area of perfectly dry walkway surrounded by snow and cooked bits of beef. Match cocked his head at Sharon, using every ounce of his brain to see if he could suddenly develop telepathy and ask the question internally rather than out loud. Not this time. There was always next time. "Is that a good deal?"
Sharon stepped forward with a dismissive lash of her tail. "Payment shall be no less than $35 per hour. You see how swiftly he works. His labor will entail a fraction of the time required by contractor. With this arrangement additional convenience is yours also. Do not forget husband has a household to support, and in his other job he is sometimes paid in lizards."
"I'm not paying $35 unless he's willing to register himself as a business so Kyle doesn't go ape and all that jazz. $25 is my limit for a cashie. That's cool, though, I'll ask Hope. I can probably get her to do it for $10."
"More per hour for vastly fewer hours is simply good fiscal sense. As for your alternative -- you would ask her?" The cat's voice dripped with disdain. "Her, who is the very reason we still endure drafts in our halls and require a full kitchen remodel? The money saved will be outstripped a hundred times over in landscaping fees. Besides" and here Sharon circled Madin like a lioness circling its prey, "was it not you who was so insistent husband apply his powers more often, and to greater good? Yet now when you see evidence of his skill you would renege on this simply because the worth of his labor is known."
Madin resisted the urge to turn to follow her. "$28." That was said with finality.
"$30 per hour. For far fewer hours, as I said, and the convenience of an in-house service. A contractor must first make the journey. Match need only step out the door." Sharon paused in front of Madin and looked up at him with her huge yellow eyes. "I must be firm. After all, husband has many mouths to feed."
"Nah. That's too high. Sorry we couldn't work it out." Madin turned and began to walk away.
Sharon watched them leave, then flicked her tail in the manner of a shrug and turned to Match.
"I am sorry for taking this opportunity from you, husband," she said, "but is my duty to see you are not exploited. Your pay should be commensurate with your worth."
Madin stopped walking and turned back. "Christ, Sharon. Don't you know how bargaining is supposed to work? You follow me when I walk away, because you want me to give you money. Figures though. Rich kid like you'd have no fucking clue." They eyed Match. There was no way he was going to say yes after Sharon had said no and it wasn't like Jones paid much. "I'll do you the $30." They muttered this reluctantly. "You don't want to do it, use half to hire Jono or Hope or like, find another fire mutant."
Match almost felt bad watching Sharon haggle wages up, but thirty dollars an hour was like a million dollars that he could put towards a rainy day. “That’s a good deal,” while the end of the sentence rose he looked to Sharon for any obvious rejection of the offer. Finding none, he turned to Madin and nodded. “Alright, I wanna be not bloody but then I can come back and finish clearing the snow. I’ll let you know how long it took when I’m done. That good?”
"Sounds good. Catch you around, bro." Madin gave him a little wave and began to head back down the path.
Sharon waited for Madin to get out of earshot, then turned to Match with an air of smug self-satisfaction.
"You see, husband? Where would you be without me?"
