|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Jan 18, 2011 9:57 pm
 The girl was slender, her body willowy and long-legged with the beginnings of what might just be a nice set of boobs (which this feline was thankful for!). Her fur was milk-cream with sooty points, her tail flagging out behind her like a snake, back and forth and her ears were small and slightly rounded. Khloe -- or perhaps one might've known her in the catshow rings as "Stonecreek Unusually Unusual" -- had been told at one point in her life--by both a friend and mentor, Venus, and her newly-found big brother, Impulse, to just be herself. Which was hard. Because what twelve year old girl knew what 'herself' even was. Still she was trying. She hadn't exactly found her 'niche' so to say...but she was pretty darn close. Dressed in skater pants, a baby-t with a smiling cupcake on the front with rainbow sprinkles, and several plastic bracelets adorning her hands, probably the most unusual thing about the girl was the fact that her dark hair had been dyed and tacked up in a half-mowhawk the color of rainbows. She was definitely Impulse's sister. With hands stuffed in her pockets, she scuffed the toe of her sneaker into the pavement, kicking a can along as she went. Baby-blue eyes darted back and forth with each loud obnoxious sound, each twisting scent that attacked her poor nostrils until she wanted to pinch her nose closed. Khloe was deemed 'antisocial' by most, but the plain truth was that, overwhelmed by senses, she couldn't help but be a bit snappish. Especially now that her brother had a litter of kittens that ran around the house. Khloe flattened her small ears against her brightly-colored hair and sighed.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Jan 18, 2011 10:17 pm
What he needed was, like . . . a blindfold or something. Why was he staying in the Casino with its damn bright lights he didn't understand. Denali was hospitable, but that didn't mean Nemesis liked her or her kid with the metal arm. Both of them were too . . . nice. Which had to mean they weren't actually. They were probably just acting so they'd eventually get something out of him. What exactly, he didn't know - but there wasn't such a thing as "free meals" and a "free home". There was always compensation to be had.
Sure, Denali hasn't asked anything of him yet to confirm those suspicions. But soon. Nem was sure soon he would learn.
Everything had balance. The Law of Equivalent Exchange. Karma. And apparently to balance out his too damn good eyesight, he'd have to hamper it with something.
Hence his venture outside the obnoxiously loud casino, being his usual skulking self. A piece of good cloth shouldn't be hard to find, right? . . . right?
Sigh. Of course nothing was easy.
At this point in the day Nemesis was tired of chewing his lip in frustration, so he sought something else to occupy his gnashing teeth. A rather nice set of fishbones were found after some scavenging within a dumpster, smelling awful but otherwise feasible. It had rained earlier, so the kitten took advantage of several puddles to dip the bones in and somewhat clean before he stuck it in his mouth.
Most of the spines were gone, leaving the bare bones indeed of the fish: most of the backbone and the skull. It was still a choking hazard, but hell. He felt cool having the fish stick out of his mouth, like the humans with cigarettes or something. In conjunction with his facility collar, for once Nemesis thought he had a pretty badass image.
Now, back to the cloth find- JESUS.
The pure rainbow might have been in someone's hair, but good God it bothered his eyes to have even glanced in the girl's direction. He hissed, dropping the fishbones briefly. "What the hell!" he growled. "Eyesore, how about you tone it done some?"
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Jan 18, 2011 10:34 pm
Khloe's eyes were locked on the can -- which used to be rootbeer, she decided -- but her other senses were anywhere but. Her ears scanned back and forth, little radars that picked up footfalls, cars backfiring, and the caw of seagulls above, scavenging for food. She could smell the stench of this city, hot asphalt like pepper and the glass reeking of cleaner. Her nose twitched and she snorted, shaking her head as a fishy smell touched the back of her sinuses, unwanted.
And that's when she heard it. Or rather, him. Her blue eyes lazered into the snowshoe before narrowing. Fishbones sat at his paws--the source of the stench--before she realized 'eyesore' was -her-. What. The. Hell. "Excuse me?" Her lips twisted into a scowl, ears flattening and tail puffing up as she glanced towards the alleys. She reeeeally didn't want to fight someone, at least not physically, and from the look of his scars? She was gonna guess he'd kick her a**. "Surely you're not talking to me."
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Jan 18, 2011 10:41 pm
"'Surely' I am," he mocked, scowling. God, was this another holier than thou person, thinking fancy grammar made them cool? So thought the guy who had seconds before thought himself a badass for holding fishbones in his mouth. "The hell are you doing wearing rainbow barf?" Nemesis had to lower his eyes from the intensity of the colors, sharp blue eyes returning her laser gaze. "Put on one of those grocery bags in the trashcan behind me or something so you don't go blinding someone else."
Of course he could have just, you know, ignored her after that and gone away; no more bright colors in his eyes. But nope. Nemesis always seemed to be rooted to the spot once his anger was incurred.
Oh God, he just noticed her t-shirt was also fuggin rainbows and . . . a cupcake? "Jesus, it's like you want to get noticed or something!"
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Jan 18, 2011 10:59 pm
She was aware that he was mocking her and her fists clenched at her sides as she tried to stave off a blush from reddening her cheeks -- this guy was one of THEM: people who loved to see you get upset and she wouldn't have it.
Still, his suggestion stung. With a deep breath, she looked down at the rootbeer can and focused on breathing. Then she ran both hands -- bitten down fingernails and all -- up and over her hair, as if she could -feel- the rainbows. "Sorry if it bothers you," she snapped hotly, crossing both arms over her mostly-flat chest. "But my brother says I can be whoever I want to be."
He had a point--as backwards as she was, she did like attention. And yes, she knew that with good attention also came...not so good attention--people like this boy. "What do you care? It's my body, my hair. I'm not -hurting- anyone! At least I'm not dancing around NAKED in the middle of this forsaken stinkbomb of a city! Would you rather see THAT?"
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Jan 19, 2011 9:54 pm
That third to last sentence stuck out faaaar more than the idea of seeing a girl naked. By the way, ew. Sometimes he saw naked or half-naked cats back at the Facility, both men and women, and to be honest the body was a most grotesque thing to see bare: all scars or emaciated, or sometimes ironically distended from malnutrition, or limbs were missing, or there was blood, or there was some odd combination of the aforementioned.
But then, he had never seen a "normal" body before.
"Not hurting anyone? You big fat liar, my eyes're about to start tearing up from the color!" the kitten hissed, not even taking pleasure from seeing her upset. Not that Nemesis usually did - at most he would be satisfied if the aggravated person left him alone. "You so lazy, fine! Here." In a rare act of "kindness", Nemesis returned to the garbage and snatched a tan grocery bag from the top layer (probably from a few hours ago even), bringing it back and shoving it at her feet. "Go put it on before you piss someone off. And tell your brother he's stupid thinkin' 'whoever you want to be' is a good idea. Nobody ever knows who they want to be."
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Jan 20, 2011 9:48 pm
Khloe couldn't believe her ears at the utter -crap- this boy was spewing. She opened her mouth to snap something back, ears pinned against her brightly-dyed hair and her tail lashing angrily back and forth, but she decided against it. Taking a deeeeeep breath and letting it out, she glanced up at the sky and tried to reign in her temper before it got her into something more physical than a verbal spat.
"Well I'm oh-so-very-SORRY," she bit out between clenched teeth, "that I'm hurting your poor innocent eyes." Reaching out, she picked up the root beer can and chucked it at him, though her aim was lousy and it flew over the top of his head. "I'm not lazy--you're just a d**k! I'm not putting a BAG over my head for you--I don't even KNOW you!"
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Jan 21, 2011 2:44 pm
Even though the can soared over his head, Nemesis still ducked his head instinctively, ears flattening; he had shrunk within seconds to half his size, with his head tucked close to his body and his back hunched as if he was expecting a blow. The kitten went from a glaring bully to an intimidated little kid in a matter of seconds, all from seeing her arm move to throw something at him.
He stayed as much in that position, eyes wide up at her. The shouting had cowed him with his defenses lowered like that. Inwardly Nemesis was trying to unlock his body from this unconscious maneuver, a most hated side-effect from his time at the Facility. He looked weak; he should never look weak.
It was a friggen rootbeer can! Not . . . Not that other thing. Quit being such a baby! he hissed at himself, and slowly he began to relax from his position into a upright sitting one.
"...You have lousy aim."
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Jan 21, 2011 9:36 pm
She watched as the feline went from poised and dangerous, to a sniveling coward... He feared a -root beer can- and Khloe had to snort to supress her laughter -- she knew it wasn't nice, or right, but after his attitude, it was a nice change.
She quirked a lopsided smile, straightening out her shoulders, watching him curiously. "So that's it, then? You're a jerk because you've been abused." Maybe the scars weren't from fighting at all. Maybe he had a right to react to her this way. Maybe it wasn't his fault. For a moment, she felt bad for him.
"You one'a those Facility cats?" She nodded to his strange, blue collar. "Not that it's any of my business or anything and -heaven forbid- you get sympathy from a GIRL...but...hey, you can't stop a girl from trying." She shrugged, watching him.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Jan 22, 2011 11:17 pm
s**t, not this again. He was starting to dislike - no, loathe how much the collar tight about his neck made him look like such a weak child that was rescued from hell. That was obviously why people felt pity for him, right? Not from anything he'd done, just that he was from bad circumstances.
Thing was, he'd tried pity. He'd tried pitying his fellow caged cats over there. Pity didn't get you anything, though. Not pity, not sympathy, not hope. Only action got anything done in this world. Pity only reminded you of what you couldn't do.
Nemesis hissed softly at the word Facility none the less, as good as an affirmative to the girl. "Don't think you get me just because you know where I come from," he asserted, back to glaring . . . though with less intensity than before. "Don't you dare start thinking that just 'cause you hear stories from other cats from there, you get me. I hate psychology; I hate it."
And unbidden, a singular memory floated to his mind of a certain older cat at the laboratory, and he grew stiff and hissed some more. "It's just a buttload of crap."
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Feb 01, 2011 8:15 pm
So she was right; she'd only heard about them through the grapevine--she'd heard tales about springing loose the mistreated felines from the massive steel jaws of the Facility--she -did- live in the Ruins, after all. Her family hadn't been a part of the rescue teams, but she'd seen the scars they'd returned with.
Shaking her head slowly, she offered him a smile. "Don't worry, pal," she said. "I don't know what you've been through; how can I 'get' you? The worst thing that's ever happened in my life was being caged, primped and preened for cattery shows. The sights, the smells...the way the judges touched you with their grimy human hands." She bristled at the thought.
"I escaped them, like you escaped. But where I wanted a home, a quiet family to love me and feed me...well I'm going to be bold and assume you never want that. I got it...in a way. Not humans, of course, but I found my brother. It's nice, to have family." Realizing she'd perhaps said too much, she shut down, rolling a shoulder up in a half-shrug.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Feb 01, 2011 8:48 pm
"Tch." Family. He didn't understand that concept. Was a family a group of cats bound by blood alone? Was a family a group of cats that occupied the same area for the same purpose?
If so, family sucked.
So Nemesis liked to believe. To believe in happiness with a family was too much for his jaded, deluded heart. Happiness was an illusion; there was only pain and tolerating pain.
The kitten did visibly shudder at the girl's words about human hands, remembering all too well what hands felt like: clammy, mostly, and usually cold. Smelling of something that stung his nose - clean. Too clean. Angelic hands that brought him to the purgatory outside or the hell within . . . Someplace quiet sounded almost welcoming after all that. Quiet, with a family that love-
"Not your pal," Nemesis grumbled. "It's Nemesis. Got that?" He was scowling, but his voice was more subdued now at least. "And you're kidding me. They have cat shows out here?"
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Feb 01, 2011 9:09 pm
Khloe's lips twisted up into a wry smile as the snowshoe offered her a name. Aw, he didn't like pal? Well thank god, neither did she; it was a generic, run-o-the-mill name she called everyone. "Hn." Nemesis. Damn, it fit him, but he wasn't pissed at her at the moment, so she wasn't gonna say that. "Nemesis. I have the feeling neither of us quite like touch, so let's not shake hands on that, a'right?" She gave a small huff of laughter. "I'm Khloe, with a K."
At his words, she sighed a little. "Oh they're -wonderful-" she said with a layer of sarcasm coating her voice. "You get to spend your time in a cage when NOT being paraded around like a...well, animal, because otherwise you'll ruin your coat. You get bathed plenty--complete with noisy-a** hairdryer--and then brushed until your skin aches. They trim your claws, wipe at your eyes, and never let you be. Then you're transported into yet another cage, given a car ride that makes you wanna vomit, and put in ANOTHER cage until it's showtime. Cat shows are loud, obnoxious, and painful."
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Feb 01, 2011 9:21 pm
"Khloe with a K", huh? Whatever that meant.
Yeeah . . . Nem didn't know his alphabet. It wasn't like there was anybody around to teach him really. He also didn't quite get the deal about shaking hands for the same reason, but he believed what she said about that and didn't press about it.
Well the more "Khloe with a K" described these shows, the less he liked them - and he had already disliked them to begin with. "Like they made you their experiment?" he asked, unwittingly using such diction to compare themselves. Nemesis's scowl deepened. "Pfff. Nobody'd brush my hair unless I told them they could."
It was empowering to say as much, and this was a kid who didn't know how that felt. It was . . . nice.
"And nobody would," he added with a concluding edge on that matter. "I don't care about looking pretty or whatever. If that keeps humans away, then awesome. Maaaybe you should put mud in your hair to make sure."
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Feb 01, 2011 9:30 pm
Khloe had picked up reading from Impulse; her brother always had his nose in a book and he'd been so busy with the three little ones... It would be up to her and Gwin, their blood-mother, to teach THEM how to read when they were old enough. Impulse and Marshall did all the cleaning and bathing and feeding, after all. They had so quickly gone from brother-sister, boyfriend and bestfriend to...well, a family. A family Khloe never imagined she would've had...or would've loved as much as she did.
"It's nice," she said with a nod, "not to have them touching me, petting me, calling me names. I have a long name, too; a show name. Because I'm so strange. It's "Unusually Unusual"...because I meant ohhh-so-much to them." A snort, barely repressed, and a roll of her icy-blue eyes. "Whatever. But maybe it's not all bad; Mom loved the rings. She loved the ribbons. I'll take streetlife."
At his suggestion, she smiled. "Impulse says most humans aren't all bad...just a little clingy. He had one who died, and he didn't get overbrushed. nk I'll pass on the mud in my hair--bright colors or not, I like it shiny."
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|