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xp_logsAfter the indignity of being saved in Askew World, Sharon tries to instigate a power struggle with North. Compromises are made. (Backdated to July 8th, 2024.)
Surveillance had been initiated hours ago. The activity was everything she excelled at: spiteful patience, the occupation of a tight space, and the invasion of areas in which she was only questionably allowed. She'd heard stakeouts were considered boring, but Sharon, who regularly ensconced herself beneath furniture for far less reason, could not relate.
The cat had been in a light doze when the sound of the suite door opening signaled the arrival of her quarry. Beneath the couch a pair of yellow eyes cracked open.
Her unsuspecting target entered, jacket in hand, footfalls muffled by the carpet as North headed straight for the couch and settled heavily on it. Fortunately for Sharon, Felicia's taste in furniture meant that the seat barely sank under his weight as he leaned over and started unlacing his boots.
Sharon hadn't moved at the man settling over her hiding spot, but the sight of shoelaces being loosened mere inches away made her entire body tense. She tried to focus her attention on the target scent. Remain still. Don't break cover. Maintain surveillance.
The end of a lace flicked directly in front of her face, and Sharon broke. A small purple paw shot out from beneath the couch.
The reaction it caused was instantaneous. North leapt up and over the coffee table, abandoning a singular boot and withdrawing a pistol from its concealed harness, safety flicked off in the time it took for him to turn and level it at his would-be assailant.
For several long seconds, the German blinked at the purple furry appendage batting at the laces of his footwear.
Then, ever so calmly, he holstered the firearm and toed off his other boot, arms crossed over his chest as he waited for Sharon's next move.
All pretense of stealth was ruined once guns had been drawn. The questing paw slowed, then stilled, and finally withdrew. There was a long pause.
A purple head poked out from beneath the couch to stare up at the German with slit-pupiled scrutiny. When he made no move Sharon slipped free, giving her head a little shake to resettle her fur before moving to inspect.
Rather than approaching North directly, the cat moved in a wary arc, yellow eyes never once leaving his face. Halting a few feet away, she sniffed the air; a low grumble began deep in her throat. Still moving with the utmost caution, Sharon slunk to an armchair, jumped into the seat, and hunched down to stare at him.
He held her gaze for a while, then bent to pick up his boot with a quiet, almost resigned, sigh. Only now did he realise that the window near the kitchen -- the one usually left unlatched for Jubilation's benefit -- was slightly ajar.
"How long have you been in here, Sharon?"
Sharon had long since determined that a fixed gaze was ten times more unsettling than a statement. The stare continued, as if feigning ignorance might lead North to second-guess himself and wonder if he were addressing some other feline with an unnatural fur color. The only sign of life was the motion of her tail-tip as it jerked in tense little flicks.
Failing to get a response only prompted North to resume putting his coat and boots away, seemingly wholly unbothered by Sharon's sudden appearance and inexplicable hostility. He shot a text off to Felicia as he wandered off to the kitchen to pour himself a drink.
[Your purple friend has paid us a house visit.]
The response is nearly immediate, as only Felicia bored on the treadmill trying to burn off the day could be.
{I'm going to guess she isn't napping}
{Give me 10 I smell}
Slightly less than ten minutes later the suite door opened. Felicia only caught the slightest glimpse of a purple-furred apparition staring down her partner like a sleep paralysis demon before her presence registered. The transformation was immediate: the low but persistent growl suddenly terminated in a delighted meep, and Sharon sprang from the chair to greet Felicia like the friendliest kitten at the petshop. She raced over, tail high, and butted herself against the older woman's ankles with a thunderous purr. Her body language clearly communicated that whatever appeared to have been happening before Felicia's arrival: no it hadn't.
"Hey babiest girl," Felicia accepted, scooping up her princess to her chest, ear rubs strong and soothing. "I see you met the grumpy old man. Tell me what’s wrong.”
Said grumpy old man let out an audible sigh, shooting his partner a Look before disappearing from view. They heard the fridge open moments later, followed by the rustling of items as North started to put together their dinner.
Sharon leaned into Felicia's hand before turning a pointed glare towards the kitchen. Her grumble struck the perfect balance between plaintive and annoyed. In a lack of so many words it said:
Who, and why, is this man?
“Come on, you know David. He tells me you’ve met,” Felicia reassured, settling onto the couch and placing Sharon beside her with a long pat from the top of her head to the end of her still angrily wagging tail. “I mean. Sort of. Probably wasn't the best of circumstances for exchanging, you know. Common interests and favourite colours.”
This assertion was met with a grudging flick of the tail. Sharon cast a sulky glance at North as he moved about the kitchen, then returned her gaze to Felicia. Yes, her yellow eyes said, it was possible this man had rendered her critical assistance the day prior, but they also suggested this had not been proper compensation for the fact Sharon felt she had been promised Felicia, who the universe had then failed to deliver. A grave crime indeed.
Felicia laughed quietly, rubbing a knuckle against Sharon's cheek and letting her scent. "I'm going to need you to at least pretend to like him. Pretend to tolerate would also work. I'd hate for two of the most important people in my life to not get along."
Turning her head towards the kitchenette she continued, louder. “That means you too, babe.”
It earned her the blandest look a man could muster. "We are having fish tonight."
Butting against Felicia's hand one final time, Sharon turned back to North with a bearing that proclaimed he had been given leave to prove himself.
Fortunately for all involved, the fish was excellent.
Surveillance had been initiated hours ago. The activity was everything she excelled at: spiteful patience, the occupation of a tight space, and the invasion of areas in which she was only questionably allowed. She'd heard stakeouts were considered boring, but Sharon, who regularly ensconced herself beneath furniture for far less reason, could not relate.
The cat had been in a light doze when the sound of the suite door opening signaled the arrival of her quarry. Beneath the couch a pair of yellow eyes cracked open.
Her unsuspecting target entered, jacket in hand, footfalls muffled by the carpet as North headed straight for the couch and settled heavily on it. Fortunately for Sharon, Felicia's taste in furniture meant that the seat barely sank under his weight as he leaned over and started unlacing his boots.
Sharon hadn't moved at the man settling over her hiding spot, but the sight of shoelaces being loosened mere inches away made her entire body tense. She tried to focus her attention on the target scent. Remain still. Don't break cover. Maintain surveillance.
The end of a lace flicked directly in front of her face, and Sharon broke. A small purple paw shot out from beneath the couch.
The reaction it caused was instantaneous. North leapt up and over the coffee table, abandoning a singular boot and withdrawing a pistol from its concealed harness, safety flicked off in the time it took for him to turn and level it at his would-be assailant.
For several long seconds, the German blinked at the purple furry appendage batting at the laces of his footwear.
Then, ever so calmly, he holstered the firearm and toed off his other boot, arms crossed over his chest as he waited for Sharon's next move.
All pretense of stealth was ruined once guns had been drawn. The questing paw slowed, then stilled, and finally withdrew. There was a long pause.
A purple head poked out from beneath the couch to stare up at the German with slit-pupiled scrutiny. When he made no move Sharon slipped free, giving her head a little shake to resettle her fur before moving to inspect.
Rather than approaching North directly, the cat moved in a wary arc, yellow eyes never once leaving his face. Halting a few feet away, she sniffed the air; a low grumble began deep in her throat. Still moving with the utmost caution, Sharon slunk to an armchair, jumped into the seat, and hunched down to stare at him.
He held her gaze for a while, then bent to pick up his boot with a quiet, almost resigned, sigh. Only now did he realise that the window near the kitchen -- the one usually left unlatched for Jubilation's benefit -- was slightly ajar.
"How long have you been in here, Sharon?"
Sharon had long since determined that a fixed gaze was ten times more unsettling than a statement. The stare continued, as if feigning ignorance might lead North to second-guess himself and wonder if he were addressing some other feline with an unnatural fur color. The only sign of life was the motion of her tail-tip as it jerked in tense little flicks.
Failing to get a response only prompted North to resume putting his coat and boots away, seemingly wholly unbothered by Sharon's sudden appearance and inexplicable hostility. He shot a text off to Felicia as he wandered off to the kitchen to pour himself a drink.
[Your purple friend has paid us a house visit.]
The response is nearly immediate, as only Felicia bored on the treadmill trying to burn off the day could be.
{I'm going to guess she isn't napping}
{Give me 10 I smell}
Slightly less than ten minutes later the suite door opened. Felicia only caught the slightest glimpse of a purple-furred apparition staring down her partner like a sleep paralysis demon before her presence registered. The transformation was immediate: the low but persistent growl suddenly terminated in a delighted meep, and Sharon sprang from the chair to greet Felicia like the friendliest kitten at the petshop. She raced over, tail high, and butted herself against the older woman's ankles with a thunderous purr. Her body language clearly communicated that whatever appeared to have been happening before Felicia's arrival: no it hadn't.
"Hey babiest girl," Felicia accepted, scooping up her princess to her chest, ear rubs strong and soothing. "I see you met the grumpy old man. Tell me what’s wrong.”
Said grumpy old man let out an audible sigh, shooting his partner a Look before disappearing from view. They heard the fridge open moments later, followed by the rustling of items as North started to put together their dinner.
Sharon leaned into Felicia's hand before turning a pointed glare towards the kitchen. Her grumble struck the perfect balance between plaintive and annoyed. In a lack of so many words it said:
Who, and why, is this man?
“Come on, you know David. He tells me you’ve met,” Felicia reassured, settling onto the couch and placing Sharon beside her with a long pat from the top of her head to the end of her still angrily wagging tail. “I mean. Sort of. Probably wasn't the best of circumstances for exchanging, you know. Common interests and favourite colours.”
This assertion was met with a grudging flick of the tail. Sharon cast a sulky glance at North as he moved about the kitchen, then returned her gaze to Felicia. Yes, her yellow eyes said, it was possible this man had rendered her critical assistance the day prior, but they also suggested this had not been proper compensation for the fact Sharon felt she had been promised Felicia, who the universe had then failed to deliver. A grave crime indeed.
Felicia laughed quietly, rubbing a knuckle against Sharon's cheek and letting her scent. "I'm going to need you to at least pretend to like him. Pretend to tolerate would also work. I'd hate for two of the most important people in my life to not get along."
Turning her head towards the kitchenette she continued, louder. “That means you too, babe.”
It earned her the blandest look a man could muster. "We are having fish tonight."
Butting against Felicia's hand one final time, Sharon turned back to North with a bearing that proclaimed he had been given leave to prove himself.
Fortunately for all involved, the fish was excellent.
no subject
Date: 2025-05-24 06:45 pm (UTC)The transformation was immediate: the low but persistent growl suddenly terminated in a delighted meep, and Sharon sprang from the chair to greet Felicia like the friendliest kitten at the petshop. She raced over, tail high, and butted herself against the older woman's ankles with a thunderous purr. Her body language clearly communicated that whatever appeared to have been happening before Felicia's arrival: no it hadn't.
... so absolutely perfect cat-ness. Great job, all of you. <3
no subject
Date: 2025-05-25 02:42 am (UTC)