back dated log: Liam and Sharon
Jul. 15th, 2025 08:22 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsSharon finds out what Liam is doing now that he's 18 and confronts him. And fish.
The sun was nearly set for the day, but Liam didn't care as he lay out on the tree branch reading his book. His eyes allowed him to see easily in the dark and the book was too good to put down and go inside, why bother? It was nice and warm out, too.
"Kitten is taking a break from his hussy ways, I see."
Sharon stood below him, currently human-shaped in order to better convey the impression of disapproving older sister. It had clearly been a last-minute switch; the left side of her hair was dusted with bright green burrs.
"What?" Liam asked, confused. "You're not making any sense," he used his finger as a bookmark, closing the book around it.
"I do not?" Sharon calmly lifted her phone from the strap around her neck and began to tap. After a moment she raised the screen to Liam to display a looping video of a distinctive orange foot flexing and unflexing a set of claws into a patch of carpet.
"Foot content," she pronounced. Her yellow eyes fixed him like a spotlight. "This I shall send to your mother."
Oh. That. He made a face, "How did that even end up in your feed, Sharon? You got some hidden kinks?" Grinning, he set the book aside against a couple other branches near the trunk, shifting his position to face her better, "Nothing wrong with taking money from furries. Why shouldn't I monetize these babies?" He flexed a bare foot for emphasis.
This got a scoff. It sounded uncannily like the noise Sharon made in bigcat form. "As Cat we are simply better. For others to acknowledge our superiority, this is proper. Is Kitten's lack of discrimination that I criticize."
"Better?" He repeated skeptically, making a face, "You're being dumb again. I discriminate! I could have flexed other things," he leered to make a point.
Sharon's tail, already twitching with irritation, suddenly puffed.
"Last year we were abducted for walking-while-Cat through a public park only," she snapped, "and Liam has now decided to advertise?"
"Not where I am!" Shit, he wasn't stupid! "I very intentionally made sure there was nothing that could indicate my location or anything personal in it. Other than the obvious. And everything here is super locked down with security. I'm not dumb, Sharon, no matter what you think."
"Intelligence, this is not the issue. Hormones make all decisions suspect." The older girl's tail flicked in irritation. "Is as expected. Now that you have had intercourse your mind shall be on tomcatting around only."
"It's pretty fun, you should try it," Liam replied, then paused, "But it can get kinda wet. If you do it right."
It was easy to tell when Sharon was about to snap off a withering retort: the expression on her human face was almost identical to the look she got when she felt a hairball coming on. This time, though, something else throttled back the insult. Sharon's tail curled forward to wrap around her, closely followed by her arms. She seemed to be both searching for words and aggravated that she had to do so.
"Neither sex nor Kitten's fluids are of concern to me," the older girl said. "Is the roaming, the risk-taking. This I worry about. Too many toms have I seen hit by cars in pursuit of a queen, and is not cars I worry about for Liam. The world is not safe for us."
Roaming? "Where am I going?" He asked. Well, okay, there was college. And maybe college parties, but those were both unrelated to his OM account. "Yeah, the world isn't safe. But I'm not going to live in the mansion my entire life, scared of it. Or here." He knew that intimately, just like she did.
"This I know." And she did, though she didn't like to think about it. Sharon made a short, sharp sound somewhere between a sigh and a grunt. "Fine. Kitten shall be a hussy if he wishes. But you will be careful. As fellow Cat you are family, even though you are Orange."
"I will be the best hussy," Liam laughed. Who even used that word anymore? Sharon, apparently. "But I think a male-hussy is a 'himbo.'"
"If you refer to yourself as himbo, you are not himbo. This is known." The older girl sniffed, but her tone had dropped back to its usual levels of feigned exasperation.
"Toms," she tsked.
"I never said I was a himbo. You're the one that called me a hussy, I was just correcting your insult so it was gender- appropriate," he stuck his tongue out at her.
"Hussiness is a state of mind." Sharon turned back towards the mansion with the posture of one telegraphing a lack of concern, but her tail twitched in quiet acknowledgement.
"Come. There is fish."
"Fish!" He jumped from the tree, eager, "Is it already dead or do I need to clean it?"
The sun was nearly set for the day, but Liam didn't care as he lay out on the tree branch reading his book. His eyes allowed him to see easily in the dark and the book was too good to put down and go inside, why bother? It was nice and warm out, too.
"Kitten is taking a break from his hussy ways, I see."
Sharon stood below him, currently human-shaped in order to better convey the impression of disapproving older sister. It had clearly been a last-minute switch; the left side of her hair was dusted with bright green burrs.
"What?" Liam asked, confused. "You're not making any sense," he used his finger as a bookmark, closing the book around it.
"I do not?" Sharon calmly lifted her phone from the strap around her neck and began to tap. After a moment she raised the screen to Liam to display a looping video of a distinctive orange foot flexing and unflexing a set of claws into a patch of carpet.
"Foot content," she pronounced. Her yellow eyes fixed him like a spotlight. "This I shall send to your mother."
Oh. That. He made a face, "How did that even end up in your feed, Sharon? You got some hidden kinks?" Grinning, he set the book aside against a couple other branches near the trunk, shifting his position to face her better, "Nothing wrong with taking money from furries. Why shouldn't I monetize these babies?" He flexed a bare foot for emphasis.
This got a scoff. It sounded uncannily like the noise Sharon made in bigcat form. "As Cat we are simply better. For others to acknowledge our superiority, this is proper. Is Kitten's lack of discrimination that I criticize."
"Better?" He repeated skeptically, making a face, "You're being dumb again. I discriminate! I could have flexed other things," he leered to make a point.
Sharon's tail, already twitching with irritation, suddenly puffed.
"Last year we were abducted for walking-while-Cat through a public park only," she snapped, "and Liam has now decided to advertise?"
"Not where I am!" Shit, he wasn't stupid! "I very intentionally made sure there was nothing that could indicate my location or anything personal in it. Other than the obvious. And everything here is super locked down with security. I'm not dumb, Sharon, no matter what you think."
"Intelligence, this is not the issue. Hormones make all decisions suspect." The older girl's tail flicked in irritation. "Is as expected. Now that you have had intercourse your mind shall be on tomcatting around only."
"It's pretty fun, you should try it," Liam replied, then paused, "But it can get kinda wet. If you do it right."
It was easy to tell when Sharon was about to snap off a withering retort: the expression on her human face was almost identical to the look she got when she felt a hairball coming on. This time, though, something else throttled back the insult. Sharon's tail curled forward to wrap around her, closely followed by her arms. She seemed to be both searching for words and aggravated that she had to do so.
"Neither sex nor Kitten's fluids are of concern to me," the older girl said. "Is the roaming, the risk-taking. This I worry about. Too many toms have I seen hit by cars in pursuit of a queen, and is not cars I worry about for Liam. The world is not safe for us."
Roaming? "Where am I going?" He asked. Well, okay, there was college. And maybe college parties, but those were both unrelated to his OM account. "Yeah, the world isn't safe. But I'm not going to live in the mansion my entire life, scared of it. Or here." He knew that intimately, just like she did.
"This I know." And she did, though she didn't like to think about it. Sharon made a short, sharp sound somewhere between a sigh and a grunt. "Fine. Kitten shall be a hussy if he wishes. But you will be careful. As fellow Cat you are family, even though you are Orange."
"I will be the best hussy," Liam laughed. Who even used that word anymore? Sharon, apparently. "But I think a male-hussy is a 'himbo.'"
"If you refer to yourself as himbo, you are not himbo. This is known." The older girl sniffed, but her tone had dropped back to its usual levels of feigned exasperation.
"Toms," she tsked.
"I never said I was a himbo. You're the one that called me a hussy, I was just correcting your insult so it was gender- appropriate," he stuck his tongue out at her.
"Hussiness is a state of mind." Sharon turned back towards the mansion with the posture of one telegraphing a lack of concern, but her tail twitched in quiet acknowledgement.
"Come. There is fish."
"Fish!" He jumped from the tree, eager, "Is it already dead or do I need to clean it?"
