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 Posted: Mon Nov 21, 2011 4:04 pm
Breu had probably started to get used to his angry stray, the wild beast he'd captured in the park. He'd started to get used to the way she seemed to wind her way under foot any time he wasn't looking, to the solid bulk of her back against his when he slept, the sharp dig of claws into his legs when he passed the bed during the day, the insistant, yellow-green stare every time he came into the kitchen.
He hadn't had her long, but -- it didn't take long for a cat to set up camp and make a home her own. And it didn't take long to get used to her being there.
Breu would step into the kitchen as always, and she was sitting on the counter, as always, no matter how many times he chased her down. Those eyes narrowed on him, watched him pace quietly across the tiled floor to the refridgerator, likely still half asleep. She tipped her head to peer inside around him, and when he straightened, she stretched on the counter.
Her mouth opened. For a second, it seemed like a yawn. Then the words came spilling out.
"Make more chicken salad."
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Posted: Mon Nov 21, 2011 4:19 pm
He dropped the milk.
Not his finest moment to be sure, but the cat just –talked- to him. He was pretty sure he was awake, he was positive he wasn’t drunk, and he hadn’t been using his paints without opening a window so hallucinations were ‘out’ barring something like inexplicable swamp gas leaking into his flat.
Fortunately the milk only spilled some of its contents upon impact and he was able to pick the jug back up and deposit it in the sink so he could be sure he hadn’t cracked the bottle. But still, the cat had talked.
//Beg pardon? // He blinked falling back into what might be considered ‘bad habits’ given he was ‘state side’ and he was addressing a cat who’d just spoken in lightly accented English. He was though, a ‘Knight’ or a page at least; he turned into someone who fought strange monsters with naught but his boots and a rather shoddy antler. He also had an unreasonable objection to mirrors and was positive his face wasn’t what it should be.
“Chicken Salad.” He blinked. “Right…” He said dazed, it made his own accent heavier but he wasn’t thinking about that so much as he was staring at the cat as he grabbed the can opener.
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Posted: Mon Nov 21, 2011 6:17 pm
The long arch of her tail swept up behind her, eyes narrowed again as the tip twitched from one side to the other. He'd stepped within reach, and that was his mistake: she wiggled and shifted, leaning forward on her forelegs and then, all at once, springing off the counter in a comfortable sort of leap.
She landed gracefully on his shoulders, but it still would likely knock him off balance. The sudden thud of four paws against skin, of pressure placed just here and here and here, would probably surprise the hell out of him.
"You can be trained, I think." Her claws dug in, just barely pricking him through his shirt.
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Posted: Mon Nov 21, 2011 6:59 pm
He grabbed the counter so he didn’t tip and loose her and a good deal of skin. “You talk… you bloody really talk.” He said and shook his head as he pulled out the rest of the ingredients to make the chicken salad. “Either I’m dreaming or this is some new lunacy like floating antlers.” He said pausing to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Or you’re of the twyleth teg.” He added after a moment, he couldn’t say that option didn’t excite him more than a little.
“You d’inna talk before, what happened did I hit my head or sommat? SO glad you approve though princess, would hate to think I was one’a the unfortunate souls to be rejected by royalty.”
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Posted: Tue Nov 22, 2011 8:48 am
"Princess. I like that." Her tail swished into his face, briefly, giving him a mouthful of fur -- and then settled more comfortably around his neck as she eased down. The painful pressure points of paws against his shoulder relaxed into something softer as she sprawled, one paw hanging down.
"I'm no more fairy than you are." It was yawning, lazy -- except that her eyes tracked the ingredients as he worked with a feverish sort of excitement. She wanted that chicken salad bad enough that she couldn't even pretend at indifference. "Though -- I say that having seen you in your antlered getup."
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Posted: Tue Nov 22, 2011 9:25 am
“Well It’s nae like I chose the damned outfit.” He said shuffling slightly from foot to foot despite the fact it stood a risk of dislodging the chicken-enraptured feline draped around his neck. “Could you always talk or is this a recent development?” He asked as he mixed the chicken salad together. It was an odd feeling, reminiscent of the dreams that he’d never quite been able to shake after the accident. Not a bad thing in his opinion but he suspected he’d be in therapy or lock up faster than you could say Tir na Nog if he told anyone he still thought about them.
“There you are… chicken salad all done up. Would ye like that on toast or just a dish?”
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Posted: Wed Nov 23, 2011 12:36 pm
"...bread." She was already on the move again -- quick steps taking her across her shoulders, another tidy leap settling her on the counter to snuff at the bowl of chicken salad, to lick the very edge where a clump of mayonaise had clung to the bowl. A purr started low in her chest as she looked up at him. A quiet purr, yes, but definitely audible all the same, rumbling.
"The talking is new. I didn't remember before." But now, obviously, she did. She sat back on her haunches, licking at her nose, where some of that mayo still clung. "Not afraid I'll tell your secrets?"
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Posted: Wed Nov 23, 2011 3:55 pm
“Well, I’d prefer you didn’t I think that’s obvious, but at the same time what could I do about it if you did?” He paused and tapped his nose lightly to indicate she still had ‘a little something’ clinging as he fished out the bread and made her a proper sandwich.
“Do you have a name princess? Is that alright to ask?” he said carefully and set the sandwich down on a plate before her. “I should probably ask your forgiveness for shanghaiing you as well. I did rather abduct you from the park.”
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Posted: Thu Nov 24, 2011 10:45 am
Lee snapped after his finger, but it was half-hearted. It had to be half-hearted, since she didn't catch him, didn't shred skin and add a little blood to the chicken salad. She knew better than to bite the hand that fed her -- literally, in this case.
As he set down the sandwich, she leaned in to sniff it, circling the plate in a curious way, making sure he'd made it properly. wonderbread. Chicken salad. Not bad. It made her eyes glitter, one paw set on the sandwich to hold it still as she tore at it with sharp front teeth.
He could wait while she ate the first bite, that purr starting up again, licked her lips clean. "Laoise."
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Posted: Mon Nov 28, 2011 7:46 pm
He repeated her name thoughtfully and nodded pleased with the sound of it, tough but pretty in a way, it suited her as all cats’ names should suit the cat they belong to.
“I can cut that into smaller squares for you if ye like.” He offered watching her tear bites out of it, though perhaps she enjoyed tearing into it like a bit fresh kill even if it was from a can and a bit of bleached bread.
“So I don’t think I’m in the habit of tossing my own name about in the flat, but if you can read yeh probably already saw the post I imagine.”
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Posted: Tue Nov 29, 2011 10:53 am
She didn't look much like she needed it torn into squares; the look she gave him, her purr fading out to a distant rumble, was sharp and annoyed and proud. She didn't need him to do anything. She allowed him to make the chicken salad so he'd feel useful, that was all, and she could damned well eat the thing without him stepping in to d anything.
"As if I would read your letters." It came with a sniff before she dug in again, shaking her head to rip away a piece of crust with clinging mayonaise. Laoise spoke around her mouthful, somewhat muffled. "Tell me your names."
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Posted: Thu Dec 01, 2011 4:48 pm
He raised his hands in surrender to the look she gave him. “I wasn’t implying that you couldn’t handle it, I just thought that even warrior princesses might like he sandwich in fingers sometimes.”
He paused for long enough to let her calm down as well, and then rattled off his names. She’d likely find them ridiculous given she had one short, pretty and descriptive name but, he wasn’t a cat.
“Breyddwyd, Breyddwyd Ffynnon Caffal.” He said with a small shrug. “Though most just call me Breu here, simpler and they don’t mangle the saying of it.”
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Posted: Fri Dec 02, 2011 6:59 am
"Yes." She tipped her head, licking more tuna salad from her muzzle, and sat back on her hindquarters to watch him -- expression still blissed out. Still close enough to the sandwich that, should he try to take it away, assuming she was done, she might just take his hand off. Laoise wasn't done. She was just taking a little break to digest. After all, she wasn't some stray who needed to devour any food put in front of her as fast as she could.
Not anymore, anyway.
"That's too many names." Her tone was decisive, somewhat imperious. "You should just pick one. I will use Breu."
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Posted: Fri Dec 02, 2011 8:33 am
“Humans are funny like that.” He grinned at too many names. “Breu works just fine though.” He paused thoughtful, watching her for a moment. “Would you like something to drink?” He offered arching his eyebrows. He’d not really offered anything this time after the surprising demand for the chicken salad. “Will ye tell me about yerself?”
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Posted: Mon Dec 05, 2011 6:28 pm
"No. I want to know what your other name is, first." She lifted a paw to lick between her toes, sharp claws spread and shown, eyes still locked rather securely on Breu. Her tone was meaningful, was serious, implied that if he asked what she meant or danced around the question then he was a complete idiot.
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