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"How the hell do you lot keep wandering around willy nilly and not get picked up by some poor shmoe of an Animal Control agent?" The demanding voice was rough, possibly because there was a coppery smell like blood and dirt and oil, the Captain, wearing black and orange racing leathers, had peeled off his gloves and was eyeing red, split knuckles, and talking around a fat, bleeding lip as he sat on an pile of boxes, overseeing an collection of stray cats who eyed each other, him, and ********* warily from paper plates of catfood.

"...Or does that happen? Does the poor b*****d get sent down for a mental health evaluation when he tries to tell people he picked up a talking cat that blasted it's way out of it's cage with a head-laser like a shark in a bad Spy film?"

"...s**t if you were a white Persian I would pay you your weight in Salmon steaks to say "No Mr. Bond I expect you to die." He chuckled.

"Well... normally it's for the cats that can't pull an Oliver Twist." He tipped his chin toward the other cats, then dug into a plastic bag mostly hidden behind him. "But I think I can spare a can. Choices are limited, I'm afraid. When you bulk and bargain hunt, they don't exactly come in an big flavor set, but these guys don't seem to care. You want uh... 'Tuna and Chicken in Aspic... Turkey Medley...I don't know what it's a medley with... or... Supposedly Beef in gravy. I don't think I've got anything else in here right now..."

He rummaged vaguely, frowning at the cans. "The hell is Aspic anyway? Stuff looks like evil jello but they seem to like it. Even my cats at home tend to go out of their way to eat it first." He crinkled his nose slightly, clearly not on board with his pets choice of first-nibble.

"Any of those sound interesting?" He asked, holding up an colorful can with a photograph of a faintly annoyed looking tabby on it, tossing it into the air and letting it flip a few times before catching it again. Whatever fight he'd been in before he'd come down here didn't seem to have slowed him down terribly much.

"Fine uh..." he reached in and pulled out the first can he touched without looking, relying on luck to pick something the cat would like. "Turkey in Gravy it is." He added.

He winced from his split knuckles as he pried open the tin, emptying it rater unceremoniously onto a paper plate for his small, fuzzy visitor. "No offense if I don't join you." He added, putting it down and pushing to toward her, at a distance he reasoned relatively safe from other cats, though he paused to very gently discourage a would be thief, able to ignore the furious growl and fast claws thanks to the thick protective gear. Not that he'd admit it but some of the advantages to powering up had nothing to do with healing quickly or jumping two stories or so. Self repairing gear was a damn nice perk.

"It's fine, I mean, they're strays. Most of them don't get to eat regularly, so they're apt to fight if someone looks sideways at their dish, regardless of who."

Realgar explained, glancing back over the plates and cats, some of whom were now drifting away skittishly, licking their chops.

"...Yeah sometimes. I come through and feed the cats. So I move around a bit." If she was looking to point someone his direction, he didn't plan on giving her specifics, and shot the small cat a slightly leery glance.

"Don't worry, fluff-butt. I'm not carrying a load of starseeds or anything. Just a little tangle."

"The Negaverse has a few cats of it's own." He reminded her. "Besides, you aren't exactly typical cats, now are you?" He gave her a wry smile at this, gesturing at the star on her forehead, and then at the strays drifting away one by one. "If one of them started talking to me I think I'd go see a shrink."

He considered for a second, debating her request for more food, then pulled out a second can.

"Sure, I guess I can handle that. More of the same?"

"You're going to have to take up that debate with the cats in question. Not my department." Realgar shrugged. He wasn't really sure how the whole cat thing worked to begin with, but it did sort of make sense that they be corrupted similarly to many of the Negaverse Senshi. Many. Not all. Then again there was Zirconia, but she was, last he knew, still unique.

"Here ya go, second verse, same as the first." He offered, popping open another can and dumping it onto a plate for her, tapping the can against the plates to try and encourage the last bits to fall out.

"Speaking of cats, I don't suppose you know a "*********", Friend of mine, Zia, mentioned her but didn't happen to tell me what I was looking for. Not too surprising I guess, she was kinda having a s**t night. And before anyone asks, the only crime of which I can be accused is financing her nearly inevitable indigestion from too much chili-cheese-burger consumption."

Why no he wasn't still slightly paranoid of order agents after Ixion had tried to give him a hot foot. Nope. Not even a little.

"No offense but I've met a few white mooners who come convinced that I'm incapable of doing something that doesn't involve nigh on theatrical levels of evil."

Maybe it was just easier to attack people if you dismissed the part where they started out normal people, where they had to do mundane things like laundry and shopping and bills.

Made real idiots out of themselves looking for the cat they were talking to.

....Fuccccccccccccccccck. Damnit he felt like a moron. Well... Zia hadn't really described her, but still. ********. Embarrassing.

"You're H... well damn." He cleared his throat, trying not to look as humiliated as he felt. "I'm Realgar."

He wondered if she had mentioned him.