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 Posted: Tue Jan 24, 2017 8:37 am
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Posted: Wed Jan 25, 2017 3:59 pm
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Posted: Sun Jan 29, 2017 4:32 pm
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Posted: Sat Feb 04, 2017 6:30 pm
Solo: Evening's End
WC: 552
“What are we doing with our lives, Bob?”
Ears twitched and green eyes cracked open as he heard his name, the large ginger cat glancing in his so-called owner’s direction without bothering to move his furry head. Fingers fell down to gently rub behind his erect ears - Rob never could manage to pet as comfortably as his ex-wife did, but the Guardian didn't fault him for it. The lawyer always had been smoother with his words than his actions.
Letting out a low rumble in gratitude, Bob inched closer to his partner, arching his back against the man’s pants leg as his feet dangled out onto the couch. In the background, the Breaking Bad marathon continued playing softly, sounds of Walter White attempting to weasel his way out of another close call intermingling with the soft whips of the fan blades overhead.
“We’ve been here for six months now. Six months. I would have thought we'd be making bank by now, at least.”
Scams take longer than that to turn a profit, boss. The cat thought to himself idly, looking up at the chiseled chin of the handsome, thirty-something lawyer. Rob was right, though...time had flown and the little house they'd taken to calling home had been their residence for already half of a year. What had they done in that time?
While Rob had been working towards building his law firm, Bob had taken to the streets of Destiny City. He'd run into senshi, Negaverse officers, even other Guardian cats during those months - thankfully coming out unscathed through most of those encounters. He'd done his best to stay low, out of trouble and out of sight of the higher authority figures.
And all….for what?
As content as he'd like to consider himself, something was missing. He'd enjoyed his time lounging, people watching and food mooching. Television was still in its trashy prime, but even sitting around watching the boob tube wasn't the same anymore. So why was he restless?
Thoughts passed alongside the minutes as he remained pressed against Rob, both males watching the television screen without truly watching it. Hydra was probably out there, bright eyed and spirited. Was she getting into a fight right now? And what of Aue, with his gruff personality, was he currently being abused by his Negaverse owners? Or disposed of, if his overseers had finally had their fill of the Order senshi. The ginger puss even thought of the tiny chibi he'd tricked - in six months time, had Goretti managed to discover what it took to become an adult senshi? Would he now consider Bob an enemy, if approached again?
His concentration shattered as the lamp flickered off, Rob rising from the couch as he made half an effort to brush the fur from off his pants.
“I think it's time for bed, buddy.”
The glass tumbler rose, the lawyer tossing back the remains of the amber liquid inside. Setting the glass back on the side table, he cleared his throat and socked feet began their journey towards the bedroom. He paused, looking back. “You coming, Bob?”
With a yawn and a stretch, the Guardian slowly slid off from the couch into a ginger pool, giving himself another moment to stretch before sauntering off after his lonely friend.
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Posted: Thu Feb 16, 2017 7:47 pm
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Posted: Tue Feb 21, 2017 7:19 pm
Solo: Valentine's Late
WC: 1065
A week after Valentine's Day and Bob was finally out shopping. Having no wallet and no thumbs made for a difficult task, but the ginger Guardian didn't have a problem coming up with alternative methods. After all, most of his life consisted of creating Plan B's to work with, being a cat stuck with a mind that was more intelligent than most Joe Blows that walked the streets of Destiny City. How cruel irony was, blessing him with a clever noggin' but no human body to execute his schemes with.
Ah, well.
His long bushy tail swayed back and forth as he ambled down the sidewalk. Eyes continued to glance towards both sides of the street, sizing up each store for opportunity and potential. Passing one of the local Italian restaurants, he inhaled a long whiff of what smelled suspiciously of lasagna and beautiful, delicious meatballs. Maybe a hint of garlic? Was this the place with the long garlic breadsticks that practically melted in your mouth, even after sitting out for a few hours?
No. He had a mission and he couldn't be distracted. First his task, then he could dine like a king on Tellini's leftovers. Maybe if he was lucky, the busboy would toss out some fresh leftovers right after the dinner rush let out.
Forcing his head forward, he willed himself to keep padding onward, refusing to look back towards the delicious temptation until the smell had left his tiny nostrils. Only as he passed the local drugstore did he pause, looking up towards the automatic glass doors as he debated. It wasn't as fancy as Tiffany's or anything - then again, fancy shops like jewelers didn't tend to toss out anything but the employees' trash and endless amounts of boxes. Maybe this joint would have something of interest in the back?
His list of who to shop for had shortened dramatically, but that was no cause for slacking. Once upon a time, he might have had a handful of lovely ladies to shop for, but now that he'd been transplanted into a new city full of happy, peppy new people, he had to start fresh and new. Bob style.
Checking to ensure the coast was clear, the Guardian inched his way closer to the dumpster located directly behind the drugstore. There were two large containers, both tucked away behind a shoddy looking wooden fence - was it there to attempt to hide the fact there was garbage beyond the planks, or a pitiful attempt to keep critters like himself out?
Either way, Bob had no trouble pushing open the wooden gate and making his way into the small area, hopping up into the first dumpster's opening. The smell was atrocious, but not nearly as bad as some of the trash behind the food joints he routinely checked out - eh, he might have to take a bath after, but surely this adventure would prove worth it, right?
~
Half an hour later and the redhead reappeared from the depths of the second dumpster, a plastic bag sporting the drugstore's logo securely fastened around his neck. Inside, an assortment of oddly shaped items jumbled around, clicking and thunking as he made his descent to the pavement, then his exit from the trash bins.
His next task would be much easier: delivering the presents.
Later that evening, the following individuals would find their "gifts" in various locations.
Near Sumi's last known location, he left a large purple hair scrunchie with dark purple sequins on the fabric, the color reminding him of the color of the young cat's attire. The sequins had begun to fall off - perhaps that's why it was discarded - but Bob didn't mind it. Falling sequins was like leaving sparkles behind wherever you walked.
On Hydra's doorstep, he left a broken chain necklace, still in its box. Perhaps the merchant didn't care to fix it, but the golden seashell pendant still dangled sadly on the broken chain, a small smudge on the shell's surface. His claw had managed to entangle itself with the chain when he'd attempted to pull the box from the bag, forcing the Guardian to sit there on the doorstep for nearly ten minutes as he wrestled to get it off of his talon, leaving it in a slight state of array from the already shambled box it came in. It might have formerly had a bow on the box, but temptation proved too great and he'd batted with it for a moment or two, after dis-entangling himself.
At the entrance of Ash's alleyway (because he was not going back inside - Bob did value his life, after all), he left a broken digital watch atop a half-eaten box of expired chocolates. Two or three of the chocolates may have been eaten after the box was dumped, but Bob figured it had probably been better of him to taste test the product before giving it to the picky feline. The digital watch had reminded him of her crazy, techno-gadgets. He probably could have fixed it, given time and effort...but he had neither of those to spare that evening, not with other deliveries needing to be done.
For Invidia's alleyway, he offered two little dead goldfish, nicely plated atop a thrown out, slightly greasy paper plate. Truth be told, he had absolutely no idea how one, much less two pet fish had found their way into the drugstore's dumpster, but he wasn't going to question it. He even resisted taking a nibble from one of their tails, which was a feat in and of itself. Hopefully no stray felines would find his gift before she did - he had struggled enough not to eat them himself!
Lastly, and although it held no romance for him, he left a chipped mug on the doorstep of the dark-haired General's apartment. He hadn't planned on getting her anything, but the young woman's face had crossed his mind once he'd stumbled across the ceramic piece. In bold, overly-happy yellows and pink letters read the words GIRL POWER with various colorful daisies patterned around it. Should cheer a girl up when she didn't have a date for V-Day, right?
Eh, it was the thought that counted, anyways.
Happy with his successful deliveries, he returned to the scene of the crime, his stomach growling as thoughts of warm, freshly discarded pasta entered his mind.
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Posted: Wed Feb 22, 2017 9:05 am
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Posted: Thu Feb 23, 2017 6:44 pm
Solo: Cat's Off to Ya
WC: 553
As far as weeknight roaming went, it was a pretty good Thursday. He'd already patrolled the food trucks littering the downtown area, but his main focus were the flowerbeds separating Telliano's Italian Restaurant and El Pancho's Mexican Restaurant. The two foot stretch allowed him access to the best of both worlds, moving back and forth between the two patios, begging food off of the men and women dining outside.
It started off well. Chips, a little bit of queso and salsa from the left, a meatball and a few noodles from the right. Mindful not to destroy the flowers as he stepped over the center of the bed, he perched on the ledge and chewed on the last of the noodles, content with the freebies so far. He was so focused on his chewing that he didn't notice the stack of menus flying from the side view until they smacked against his body with a resounding SMACK.
Stars were spinning in his vision as he flew from the flowerbeds and onto the sidewalk outside of the gated dining area. An audible gasp came from the one small girl who noticed, but everyone else ignored the angry waiter berating the mangy cat for stomping around the flowerbeds and pandering to the customers.
One paw moved to rub his sore head, the Guardian growling as he stared up at the waiter. Green eyes noted the name on his name tag - Francis before the waiter forced a scoff, waving his hand dismissively at the cat before turning to a coworker and laughing about his actions.
Well, Francis, we'll see who gets the last laugh.
The ginger cat sneered as he moved to the alleyway... and waited.
~
It took four more hours of waiting for the restaurant to close. Thirty minutes later and the workers were finally leaving, Bob waiting in the wings for one particular face. Francis' face appeared among the crew, hopping into an older Toyota truck, of which Bob happily hopped into the bed of before it took off down the road.
~
When it came to patience, Bob had more than his fair share of it. He waited in the truck bed until Francis had made it into his run-down, beat up trailer and gave him enough time to get settled in for the evening. The thing about revenge was seizing the opportunity and not a moment too soon.
As soon as the light switched off in the bedroom window, he took his opportunity. Cocking his head back, he let out a piercing, extended yowl. And then another. And another. The ginger Guardian serenaded the trailer park until the light came back on, and only then did he sneak his way underneath the trailer.
Francis opened the window, only to see nothing. Frustrated, he gave up... and Bob returned to his singing. Light went on, Bob disappeared.
This continued for hours, until Bob was sufficiently satisfied with the knowledge that he'd cost the young man a night of sleep. Francis had cost him food, so he would deprive him of rest. Tit for tat, thanks to a cat.
As he departed the park, he made sure that when Francis stuck his head out for the last time that he saw the familiar looking ginger Coon's bottom as he sashayed off into the shadows.
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Posted: Mon Feb 27, 2017 4:25 pm
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Posted: Mon Feb 27, 2017 4:35 pm
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Posted: Mon Mar 13, 2017 6:26 pm
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Posted: Mon Mar 13, 2017 6:28 pm
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Posted: Mon Mar 13, 2017 6:48 pm
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Posted: Mon Mar 20, 2017 7:25 am
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Posted: Sat May 20, 2017 3:05 pm
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