Prompt 7: You've seen the commercials, take a bite of a chocolate mint patty and feel a rush of so cold you feel like you're atop a frigid mountain? Now, imagine you found a cute little shop with a sweet grandmother selling cookies from a recipe passed down for generations. She was warm and friendly, and very good at selling her cookies. They look normal, taste normal--except when you take a bite, for a few seconds, your vision fades and is replaced by a glorious view. You're at the top of a mountain, watching the sun rise above the clouds. The sunset is beautiful and soft, and you can't even feel the absolutely frigid air despite the snowcapped mountains all around you. There is something otherworldly and timeless about the location, and even in the dark of winter it has the ability to fill you with some unshakeable hope. When you swallow, the illusion rapidly fades, and no subsequent bites guarantee any further illusion--but, maybe if you eat enough, you'll eventually find that magical bite again...
Gremlin wasn't one for holidays of any variety. Holidays were just excuses for the humans to leave their homes en masse to shop or mingle or just be general nuisances to the world at large. Holidays were gross, but winter holidays were by far the worst. Winter holidays were too cold for him to get anything out of. Summer at least had the decency to be the season of barbecues, making it an easy time to snatch hot dogs and hamburgers from an unsuspecting two-legger's grill.
It wasn't as easy for him to invade a winter gathering. If anyone was outside in winter, it was in tiny little human clusters, where they all huddled around a table outside a coffee shop and drank warm drinks. Gremlin certainly wasn't interested in trying to get in the middle of that.
There were a scattering of other potential points of interest, though.
Gremlin heard chatter. Sometimes he'd overhear girls as they strolled down the street, animatedly talking of a cute new holiday pop-up shop. Sometimes a couple would be harassing their partner for what gift they could expect for Christmas and treats would come up. It didn't happen all at once, but by mid-December, Gremlin had heard enough people talk of a specific cookie shop that he thought he may as well amble by for a visit.
He did like treats, and a warm, chocolatey cookie never sounded bad, but there was no way he was going to saunter up to the front door and expect anything good to come of that. Prissy two-leggers would call him a rat or exclaim something about mange and chase him away like he was some wretched little creature. He could sneak around back, as he had done once or twice with other eateries.
But if he was caught, he could certainly expect to be chased, thwacked with a broom, and booted right out. For whatever reason, humans took a particular offense to animals in their food establishments.
Whatever. When Gremlin wanted something, he kept after it, and he'd decided he wanted that holiday cookie.
He slunk around back, keeping his body low and clinging to the darkest shadows the building cast. The little chain that hooked around his fur ruff scraped against the ground, and Gremlin thought the sound was so obnoxiously loud that it would surely give him away if any human happened to pass by.
But a man taking out the garbage took no note of him, and as the door swung shut behind him as he reentered the building, Gremlin made a dash to follow after him. He'd barely set one paw past the threshold when another body appeared before him.
"Oh, my!"
It was an elderly woman. But aged or not, Gremlin was ready for an attack. His claws were out in a flash, ears pinned flat to his head, and yellow teeth exposed in a vicious hiss. They were both unmoving for the span of several seconds, but then the woman bent. Gremlin lurched backward, raising his claws in a warning swipe in the woman's direction.
Except she didn't move to touch him, and his claws met empty air. She set a little clear plastic sack just outside the door, tied with a red ribbon and dotted with little green polka-dots. "There you go, dear," she said warmly, and Gremlin's head quickly swiveled around as if she might be talking to someone else behind him. No one was there. He turned back to the grandma, ears flicking up in curiosity. What the actual ******** was happening here? His tail flicked, his head canted, lips still pulled back in a warning snarl.
Humans never offered him anything. Especially not wrapped treats. They saw him only as a cat. What the heck was a basic cat supposed to do with a wrapped bag full of cookies?
But if that thought crossed her mind, she didn't show it. She stood watching him, while he watched her, and Gremlin tried to puzzle out with the heck she could be thinking. But a shout from inside the store drew her attention, and the grandma moved to step okay. "Okay, dear. Merry Christmas," she said to him. With a small wave, the old woman stepped back inside fully and shut the door behind her, leaving Gremlin with a small sack of three wrapped cookies.
Posted: Tue Jan 12, 2021 9:24 pm
She'd been hearing the rumours for a while by that point. Her wanderings around the city, enjoying the winter blanket it was coated in, accented with holiday decor, had inevitably brought her up alongside humans who talked about whatever new little shops were around for the season. Most were cute decor shops, with elaborate train track displays in their windows, or dancing toys on decorated stages to entice children and adults alike in through the doors.
Glittering trees with new styles of ornaments and lights, both in shop windows and outside on fake--but still pretty--pine trees were among some of her favourites. She loved the dazzling lights and gentle warmth they seemed to bring to her mind. For her, the holidays were a wonderful time of enjoying the views, while also enjoying watching humans in their range of behaviours. Some were joyous, skipping along with children or their partners, collecting presents and trinkets and food with glee.
Others... less so, more growling and bumbling around, furious at the world for whatever inconvenience they were set within. She was more bemused by such hostilities, though winced when one woman began to screech profanities at a poor man who accidentally bumped into her while otherwise preoccupied by his partner, causing the former to lose her pile of packages she’d had balance in her arms. Those such hostilities she found distasteful. Though acted as a perfect example of how wound up the season could make people—well. If someone was that willing to shout in such a way over a simple mistake, perhaps that wound up, aggressive, chihuahua-esque behavior was more akin to their normal behavior.
Shaking her head at the Grinch-y display, she trotted off down the sidewalk towards the little pop-up cookie shop she'd been hearing so much about. Everyone kept raving about it, when she'd pick up the bits of conversation in the area. Made it easy to slowly track down the location of the shop--the number of delightful reviews grew the closer she got. Her paws absorbed some of the chill of the pavement, and she eyed the clumps of salt with distain. She'll need to clean herself off with a warm towel later, before she gave in to feline grooming tendencies. She'd no interest in getting herself sick from ingesting any of that vile stuff.
The decor around the shop front was delightful as any, whimsical and bright, full of gingerbread houses and gingerbread folk. Gingerbread horses, trees, and more, too, by the looks of it. Realta giggled a little at some of the more outlandish display of the goodies. Were those ninjas?
An exclamation drew her attention, ears perking at a sudden call. They swivelled a moment, and Realta began to head down along the side of the shop, into a small alley that lead around back. She paused by the corner, peering around to stare at an elderly woman peering down at a very defensive feline. Realta's ears flicked back against her skull as she was just in time to see the cat--furless beyond a sort of shawl--swipe at the woman. But she didn't see any hostile behaviour from the old lady to elaborate on why such a thing was necessary. In fact, her ears slightly perked again to see the lady set something down outside the door... and... well. After a moment, she just... left.
Even wished the cat a Merry Christmas. Huh.
Her brow furrowed, and after a span of a few more heartbeats, the lilac Savannah came around the corner fully to stare at the cat still a good distance away, then the bag before the door. "...what was all of that about?"
Gremlin stared at where the woman had been. He stared at the small pouch of cookies she'd left behind in her wake. He stared at the closed door, stared at the back of the cookie shop building, and then- Stared at the creature that padded near.
Another Mauvian.
His experience with other Guardians on Earth was admittedly very limited. If he had seen any, it was only in passing at Chaos Headquarters. None he'd actually spoken to. None who'd actually spoken to him. Certainly no Order cats had ever approached him, and he didn't exactly blame them. Gremlin stood incredibly still as the lilac savannah approached, still tense from his altercation with the human, but eyes wide with curiosity and wonder toward the other cat.
"I have no idea," he admitted as he stared down at the cookie pouch. It seemed to him like no one who didn't know that he wasn't a cat would offer him any kind of treat. But the woman was old. Probably stupid and frail, and doing that weird human thing of acting like animals thought like humans did. The other Guardian was surely wondering just as Gremlin was why a human would make any such offerings to something as wrinkly and hideous as he was.
But Gremlin wasn't one to turn down food. It didn't usually come by so easily.
It was only the very instant that Gremlin was about to push the treats to the other cat in offering, paw settled on the little bag and frosted blue gaze still on the other Guardian, that he paused to consider that maybe she meant what was all of that about to him. Why had Gremlin acted out as he did, as opposed to why the human had. Why had he been aggressive toward someone who wasn't to him.
That was about on par with what he imagined an Order guardian's concerns would be.
"I don't really like them getting close to me unprompted," he grumbled. "Dunno what they're going to do, and they're hardly all nice. Never would've even thought to expect something like this." He gave the sack a nudge. "Could be poison, I guess. Seems weird to put poison in a bag, though."
