Log [Catseye, Hank] Just dropping by...

[x-catseye.livejournal.com]

Backdated to, ooh, a lot? Set about two-three weeks or so after Catseye's arrival at the mansion. She heads down to the lab areas to scout out potential sources of shinies. Hank turns on the charm and cheats outrageously by giving her sardines.



Slinking her way down the stairs had been easy enough. The smell of the antiseptics she associated with the medlab were hardly difficult to track once one hit the bottom of the steps, and Catseye tried to ignore it as best as she could while moving in closer. This should be the time where only one person was in the medlab - and since it was that person whose schedule she wanted to figure out. Just because knowing was good. And his lab was the one with all the shinies too.

Hank looked up as he heard the just-open door swing a little wider. Then he blinked. Nobody there, that was odd... He got up, looking around in puzzlement. No, still nothing. Then a flicker of purple caught the corner of his eye and he looked down. "Well, hello there, my dear," he said, pleased. "Have you come to say hello?"

"Mrr!" The slink had disappeared the second he noticed her, and Catseye trotted into sight plainly, tail held high - clearly, the medlab was part of everything she owned. She paused a few feet from him in polite cat distance 'may I come closer' and wrapped her tail around her feet, glancing around the room with casual disinterest.

He crouched down, holding out a big hand for her to sniff, should she choose to do so. "I'm very pleased to meet you, Catseye," he said politely, smiling at the dainty way she curled her tail around her toes. "I've been looking forward to it."

Leaning forward, Catseye took a delicate sniff. Ick. BadPlaceSmell. Another sniff. Not bad smell under. The fur added a familiarity to the scent which humans lacked, for lack of a better way for Catseye to classify the twist to it. That done she butted her cheek once against a larger than usual knuckle, then looked up at the table with a considering look.

He scritched very gently behind her ear with a blunt claw. "I have a present for you, young lady," he said, smiling at the feel of downy fur under his fingertip. "And I must say, with all the products I use on my fur, it's still not as soft as yours. However do you manage it?"

Catseye cleans it every day. She licked her shoulder to demonstrate, though there was nothing to do about the medlab stink now. "Mreow?" The present angle was certainly interesting, though she couldn't make out the smell of anything tasty like through the antisepticness of the room. Yet. This one knew how to greet People, though. She approved.

Hank rubbed the rounded top of her head gently. "Present, of course. This way, my lady, if you please." He got up, heading over to his Cupboard of Stuff where the remaining presents were lurking. "For the lovely young lady-cat, who I hear loves tuna, I made a special purchase." He knelt again, showing her the can but not opening it just yet. "The highest-quality sardines I could find, delicately preserved in spring-water with a hint of sea salt. Nourishing, rich with fish oils to bring shine to your coat and eyes, and deliciously fishy in flavour." It never hurt to assure a cat that you were giving her the very best.

Catseye tilted her head to the side, still looking nonchalant - though the whiskers betrayed her, quivering slightly and angling towards the tin of sardines as though trying to sense what was inside right away. It was, she reflected idly while looking up at Hank gravely, always nice to find a human who knew what the important things were. With a small preen, she purred at him in approval, and then hopped onto his chair and then the table, careful not to disturb anything. With all the grace and solemnity of a queen, she sat down and waited for him to open the can for her.

Hank smiled, and obligingly opened the can. "One moment, my dear, if you would..." he said politely, arranging the sardines on a plate... he always had a few around, for putting donuts on and so forth. And one didn't ask a lady to eat out of the can, after all. He set the plate in front of her and sat down again. "There. One gift, for a charming young lady."

Another purred reply to that and Catseye made a point of rubbing her cheek on his hand again after he'd deposited the plate. Mine. It only made sense to claim the good ones, after all. The first morsel of sardine was sampled pensively, and then Catseye fell to the snack with delicate fervor, the occasional small growl of delight escaping her.

Hank watched her eat, smiling. She was so cute, in a dignified way, like most cats. "I understand you've been making a habit of using your fellow students as pillows," he said, a little amused. "I suppose we shouldn't be surprised... I've never known a cat who couldn't find the warmest place
available to sleep. We had a lot of cats on the farm, when I was young, so I'm used to them." He grinned. "Although, for their peace of mind, you should probably refrain from changing back while in bed with them. Especially the boys. Sudden naked girls can come as a shock, at that age." At his age, too, but not nearly as badly.

When she was done, the plate neatly licked clean as well, Catseye bent her attention to grooming for a bit, even though she was now a bit thirsty - Sardines were salty. This was the best lot she'd ever tasted that she could remember though. The cans she'd found in the street before were always a bit off and even those some of the children or adults gave her in the city had been nothing like this. "Mrrr!" She hopped down the table and wound around Hank's ankles, expressing her appreciation for the gift. As for the rest - well, it wasn't like she intended to change in front of them. They kept being stupid about it anyway.

"You're very welcome," Hank said, leaning down to scratch gently behind her ears. "Would you like anything else? Milk, perhaps? I have some in the mini-fridge if you want it." The habits learned from his mother regarding feeding people to calm them down, cheer them up, or just make friends, had never yet let him down when it came to students. If it was alive and upright, insert food into it, was his mother's motto.

Oh so keepable. Purring in approval, Catseye considered the options before turning a look towards the sink at the far side of the room. She suspected Hank would consider rewarding her with bottled water first, but the fact was, sink water was that much more appealing. There was something about running water which bottled water simply did not have. Even dogs knew it, though they were dumb enough to go for toilet water instead of running water from the sink or bath tub. "Prrrmeow?" And well, what did it cost her to fall to her side and stretch a paw out at him - she rather thought the gesture would make him unreasonably happy. He seemed that kind of person, one of those for whom the smallest honest gesture of appreciation seemed like a wonderful gift.

"Oh, you are far too charming for your own good," Hank said delightedly, reaching out to touch the outstretched paw for a moment. "And if water is what you prefer, water you shall have. May I pick you up, my dear, and carry you to the sink?" It  was always polite to ask before picking even an ordinary cat up, let alone one who was technically a student. As well as her undeniably sharp teeth, there were all those claws to consider. But she was too adorable and soft to resist.

Such good manners. Clearly, a cat had paved the way before to teach this one proper etiquette. He was doing everything right. Well - he had fur as well. That might explain a lot, even though he didn't smell like a cat. She thought she might recognize what the not human part of things was, but being not sure, it was best to simply not address such matters. A twist to get to her feet, and a moment spent leaning against his leg to again say a very polite thank you, and then Catseye stretched up, paws resting on the side of his thigh, claws sheathed safely. Catseye thinks being carried is a good thing.

Hank picked her up, and couldn't resist spending a moment snuggling her and scratching under her chin before going over to the sink. "Now, would you prefer the water running, or in a dish?" he asked, as she peeked over his arm at the sink, her nose in his fur. "Please indicate the sink for running water, or the shelf to your left for a dish." She was amazingly good at getting her point across... but then, cats usually were.

Both her paws were busy doing the very feline 'holding on to neck only not' thing, so Catseye availed herself of the usual handy device in such situations. Her tail ceased it's habitual catlike weaving and curled up very deliberately, before pointing (somehow politely no less) at the sink itself. FurryBlue even knows about running water. Catseye thinks there is bliss. He had to be part cat. It was the only explanation. Even if he didn't smell like it.

"When I was a boy," Hank explained, turning on the water and putting her down gently beside the sink, "I was owned by a very intelligent cat. You note I won't say that I owned him... given that I was the one who served his meals, emptied his litter tray, and got used as a pillow when his Majesty desired sleep, I'm definitely sure I wasn't the one doing the owning. He liked to drink running water too... although running milk was even better. The cows got a little indignant about it upon occasion."

Now, the idea of running milk certainly had merit. Catseye would have to think about that. Until then though, running sink water would do and she lapped at it, perched on the edge of the sink and with one paw firmly leaning on the faucet. While she was a big cat, the only unusual feature of the sink was that it actually did make her stretch out a bit, far more so than the usual sinks did - a tribute to Hank's own size. FurryBlue needs a cat again. She'd have to give it some thought though. She'd already gotten Moira a pet baby mouse of all things. This whole giving people something to worry over thing might get to be a bit too much. Well, until then, Catseye could keep close particular attention to this one. And the lab full of shinies, too.

Hank smoothed the fur along her back gently while she drank. "You know, you're definitely a very pretty addition to the Mansion," he said admiringly. "Fur is simply the ONLY thing to be seen in, don't you agree?" Then something struck him, and he made a thoughtful noise. "I wonder if you've had your shots..."

There was a sudden silence in the room, only the sound of running water left as Catseye slowly turned her head to look at Hank through narrowed eyes. Perhaps she had heard wrong. The faint click of impressive claws now leaning on the faucet drew her attention to that particular reflex, but Catseye was too busy to fix Hank with an unwavering stare to really pay any attention to putting the claws away. Much. Catseye does not like needles.

"Oh, dear... you don't like that idea, hm?" Hank smiled ruefully. "I promise you, however, that you would like tetanus a great deal less than you'd like the shot. Tetanus makes you get very ill, and your jaws clamp shut so you can't eat or drink, and... well, a little over half of everyone who actually contracts tetanus dies of it. Much nastier than a needle."

Catseye knew all about shots, just as she knew all about tetanus, really. With a sigh she flicked her tail in a definite no, then at the spot the vet had pricked her the last time the Cat Lady had talked her into putting up with the nonsense. Well. Bribed her. Heavily. Over a long period of time. She then tapped the table twice. That was how many years ago it had been. If he didn't get the number tapping, she could always do the paw thing, she supposed - but this one was clever. Very clever.

"I'm.... not sure if that means you've had two shots, or it's been two years since you hade one," Hank said, after a moment. "Either way, there's no need to go into it now, I suppose. I just thought of it this moment, since you probably haven't had any of the human-shots, even if you've had the cat ones." He smoothed the fur on her back gently. "I promise not to give you any today, anyway. Or without talking to you about it first."

Well, the 'not without talking to her' along with the petting and the still lingering smell of sardines in the room was enough to mollify Catseye, who relaxed slowly, even venturing a low purr after a moment. Her gaze went over the room idly, head cocking slowly at one point at something shiny caught her attention in one corner of the room, winking slowly now and then in the light.

"That's better." Hank smiled, scratching gently under her chin. "Now... has anyone discussed physical training in your human form with you? At all?" He hadn't noticed any mention of the idea on the boards or anything, but he did miss things sometimes...

Catseye looked to the side of touch shiftily at that, though she didn't want to move her head away. Rats. He knew when and how to ask questions, that one. "Mrrr?" She gave him a wide-eyed 'what are you talking about' expression, all the while determined to avoid that as much as possible. Which shouldn't be hard, really.

"You know what I mean, young lady," he said firmly. "We can talk about it another time, but we ARE going to talk about it." She wiggled out of his hands, and he grinned. "Stop by if you ever want more sardines, though," he added kindly. "I know snacks are important, and I'll keep some on hand."

She paused in her escape to butt her head against his leg pleasantly, and then made a beeline for the lab door, pausing only to politely close it behind her before running down the hallway and for the stairs leading to the first floor. She had more people to go claim.