June 30th
Ryland slowly walked into the shop, for the second time today, and looked around. Wait... had he already been in the shop? Looking around, it finally clicked and he giggled lightly at himself. He was wearing boxers, but had lost the pants somewhere... though he couldn't remember where. Though he still wore the messy, unbuttoned white shirt. He had bandages around his head that were in need of a changing, but they were loose enough so that he could manage his hair, which made him happy, so he wasn't complaining about the bandages... Though it would be nice to have a fresh change. He wouldn't want... whatever it was that made him wear bandages to get infected.
Yes, he had even forgotten how he got the head injury, and all he knew was that Jepherie was very strict on him to wear bandages. Giving off a very soft growl, he walked over to a couch, seeing it was empty and completely unoccupied, and laid down on his back. He had one leg up, bracing it against the cushions of the couch, and one leg hung off the side of the couch. There was barely enough room for someone to fit on the couch with him, they would just have to practically lay on him in order to be comfortable. He didn't feel like sharing a couch... so he didn't plan to, unless he was threatened or tired of someone laying on top of him.
Cold turkey was not working out for him.
Quinn may have been lackluster outside of the apartment, but if you were caught with him inside...well, he could turn anyone on you faster than you could blink. And damnit he had told their caretaker that the coon had been drinking himself into a stupor every night. Not that it wasn't true...
But Captain Murray Callaghan did NOT function properly without at least a pint of booze running through his blood. He pinched the bridge of his nose with the tips of his claws, sitting up in time to watch Ryland go down. Ah, a pleasant distraction at last! He remembered the ol' kitten all right, even if he didn't remember what exactly had taken place.
Unfolding himself, Murray climbed to his feet and swaggered over to the bandaged furball, leaning over with a tinkle of fine jewelry.
"Why, h'lo th're, Puss."
Ryland had his eyes closed, but his moment of peace was interrupted, causing his brows to furrow. He rested an arm over his forehead and lay there, not moving from his position. Tilting his head, he simply stared up at Murray. Who was this coon? Well, he had absolutely no clue at all, not even a little bit of a clue. That was quite some bump he had got on his head.
"Hello... Do I know you... or something?"
Ryland tilted his head to the side and closed his eyes again before opening, his brows slickening out as he focused on nothing other than the Coon. He was trying to figure out if they had met before or not, and what had taken place because not many just wandered up to one and called them 'Puss.' Though he liked what the Coon called him much more than the infamous 'Kitten' everyone kept saying he was.
Curiosity killed the coon. A clawed hand raised the bandages upon Ryland's head, a surprisingly delicate movement for Murray. Yeah, the nasty little wound confirmed it: the cat had been hit on the head an was just about as dumb as a brick now. Nice.
"So yeh're IQ is somewher' between a rock n' a ho's'-plan'? Tha's real nice," he mused, brow crinkling. But honestly, how could HE be forgotten? Murray felt hurt! Or perhaps he was just hungry.
"We spoke o'carse, with'n th' horn as well, y'member? Kid wi' pink hair...n'...well hell, we nearly fought n' all. N' then..."
Apparently his mind worked around the after affect of his lack of drink.
"A promise? Yeh. Tha's it."
"My IQ is perfectly fine, my memory of anything before my accident is lost, thank you very much."
Ryland laid back on the couch and had a huffy air about him now that his intelligence had been insulted. He pretended not to be listening to Murray, but a brow raised as he tried to remember a kid with pink hair and a horn who almost faught with Murray. Finally he slowly looked towards Murray and sat up on his elbows again, raising one brow as the other went nearly flat.
"Who promised who what?"
His mind began to stir slowly at the mention of a promise from the Coon's lips. Closing his eyes, a name was drawn up. Murray.. Was that this Coon's name? It seemed to be fitting in his mind.
"Did I make you a promise, Murray, cause if I did... I would have to make sure the promise was kept or I'd feel aweful... Murray is your name, right?"
"Yeh made me a prom-- 'ey! Yeh remembered m'name!" Murray straightened and puffed out his narrow chest, lengthy tail giving the floor a sweep. He could have easily fooled Ryland into thinking he was someone else entirely, which would have been a hoot once he gained his senses, but his naivete had caught up with him. Damn.
But the cogwheels within his mind began to churn, and as they clicked backwards, it was as if they pulled the corners of his lips upwards. Ah haaahn...
"Yeh..." he said softly. "Yeh ma'e quite a promise, Puss m'dear..."
Ryland tilted his head and then smiled lightly. Ah, so it was the coon's name. Sitting up a bit, he reached back and re-tied the bandages to make them tighter. They were too loose after Murray lifted them to see his wound... At least he was nice about it. Leaning back down onto his elbows he closed his eyes a moment before he looked back up towards the coon, only to get a slightly uneasy feeling from the smile he was giving off.
"Okay.. I made quite a promise to you.."
Ryland nibbled his bottom lip, looking cutely up towards Murray as his fluffy tail flicked against the couch cushions. Oh, would the coon hurry up and spit it out? If Ry's promise had been so big, then shouldn't they discuss it now so it could fall through or... something? Propping himself up further on his elbows, he nodded his head firmly.
"So, what was this promise, Murray... Or do you need to whisper it into my ear?"
His slender arms folded, head canting to the side as he adopted a rather dramatically pouty look. He needn't even speak for it to say "must I repeat it to you?" Murray took a seat upon the couch's arm, tail flicking to the side.
"Indeed yeh di'." He glanced backwards, his good eye narrowing to a gleeful half-moon. He could keep the kitten guessing, or tell him right then an there; perhaps Ryland could even suggest something more than he was thinking? It wasn't too bad, I can assure you this.
"But a prom'se is worthless if'n you forge' what i' was," he sighed loftily, clicking his heels upon the floor.
Ryland looked up at him and rolled over onto his stomach when Murray sat down on the arm rest. Thinking for a few moments, he stared up at Murray and his eyes got a slightly sad look. He felt horrible. Did he make a really big promise, or just a minor one?
"Well... did it..."
Ryland paused and bit on his lower lip. There was something about kissing in the back of his mind, but that couldn't be right. His eyes widened slightly and he shook his head just a little bit and let out a sigh before he sat up on his knees.
"Murray, the only thing that pops into my mind is something about kissing... but..."
Tilting his head to the side, he gave a sigh and looked down, his eyes closed tight. It took him a few moments before he put a hand on Murray's leg and leaned forward, pressing his lips lightly against the coons. His face went bright red and he refused to open his eyes until he pulled back. He moved his hand from Murray's lap and sat down, his cheeks flushing with a red tint.
A devilish smile curled his lips as the kitten pressed his mouth against his. He wasn't at all surprised, nor did he make any move to return the action. Murray simply sat there, grinning like the Cheshire and milking every solitary second of Ryland's guilt.
"'Mbarrassed, lass?" he teased, eye narrowing as he shifted on the arm, leaning back. "Firs' kiss?"
His claw curled beneath the cat's chin, drawing it upwards. His eye seemed to disappear against the fringe of his dark lashes - despite being sober, something about his clear-headed state of mind was more disconcerting than his usual inebriation. He was actually thinking for one.
"S'pose it isn' as 'mbarrassin' as yehr real prom'se?" Now to test the kitten's boundary of mind.
Yes, he had even forgotten how he got the head injury, and all he knew was that Jepherie was very strict on him to wear bandages. Giving off a very soft growl, he walked over to a couch, seeing it was empty and completely unoccupied, and laid down on his back. He had one leg up, bracing it against the cushions of the couch, and one leg hung off the side of the couch. There was barely enough room for someone to fit on the couch with him, they would just have to practically lay on him in order to be comfortable. He didn't feel like sharing a couch... so he didn't plan to, unless he was threatened or tired of someone laying on top of him.
Cold turkey was not working out for him.
Quinn may have been lackluster outside of the apartment, but if you were caught with him inside...well, he could turn anyone on you faster than you could blink. And damnit he had told their caretaker that the coon had been drinking himself into a stupor every night. Not that it wasn't true...
But Captain Murray Callaghan did NOT function properly without at least a pint of booze running through his blood. He pinched the bridge of his nose with the tips of his claws, sitting up in time to watch Ryland go down. Ah, a pleasant distraction at last! He remembered the ol' kitten all right, even if he didn't remember what exactly had taken place.
Unfolding himself, Murray climbed to his feet and swaggered over to the bandaged furball, leaning over with a tinkle of fine jewelry.
"Why, h'lo th're, Puss."
Ryland had his eyes closed, but his moment of peace was interrupted, causing his brows to furrow. He rested an arm over his forehead and lay there, not moving from his position. Tilting his head, he simply stared up at Murray. Who was this coon? Well, he had absolutely no clue at all, not even a little bit of a clue. That was quite some bump he had got on his head.
"Hello... Do I know you... or something?"
Ryland tilted his head to the side and closed his eyes again before opening, his brows slickening out as he focused on nothing other than the Coon. He was trying to figure out if they had met before or not, and what had taken place because not many just wandered up to one and called them 'Puss.' Though he liked what the Coon called him much more than the infamous 'Kitten' everyone kept saying he was.
Curiosity killed the coon. A clawed hand raised the bandages upon Ryland's head, a surprisingly delicate movement for Murray. Yeah, the nasty little wound confirmed it: the cat had been hit on the head an was just about as dumb as a brick now. Nice.
"So yeh're IQ is somewher' between a rock n' a ho's'-plan'? Tha's real nice," he mused, brow crinkling. But honestly, how could HE be forgotten? Murray felt hurt! Or perhaps he was just hungry.
"We spoke o'carse, with'n th' horn as well, y'member? Kid wi' pink hair...n'...well hell, we nearly fought n' all. N' then..."
Apparently his mind worked around the after affect of his lack of drink.
"A promise? Yeh. Tha's it."
"My IQ is perfectly fine, my memory of anything before my accident is lost, thank you very much."
Ryland laid back on the couch and had a huffy air about him now that his intelligence had been insulted. He pretended not to be listening to Murray, but a brow raised as he tried to remember a kid with pink hair and a horn who almost faught with Murray. Finally he slowly looked towards Murray and sat up on his elbows again, raising one brow as the other went nearly flat.
"Who promised who what?"
His mind began to stir slowly at the mention of a promise from the Coon's lips. Closing his eyes, a name was drawn up. Murray.. Was that this Coon's name? It seemed to be fitting in his mind.
"Did I make you a promise, Murray, cause if I did... I would have to make sure the promise was kept or I'd feel aweful... Murray is your name, right?"
"Yeh made me a prom-- 'ey! Yeh remembered m'name!" Murray straightened and puffed out his narrow chest, lengthy tail giving the floor a sweep. He could have easily fooled Ryland into thinking he was someone else entirely, which would have been a hoot once he gained his senses, but his naivete had caught up with him. Damn.
But the cogwheels within his mind began to churn, and as they clicked backwards, it was as if they pulled the corners of his lips upwards. Ah haaahn...
"Yeh..." he said softly. "Yeh ma'e quite a promise, Puss m'dear..."
Ryland tilted his head and then smiled lightly. Ah, so it was the coon's name. Sitting up a bit, he reached back and re-tied the bandages to make them tighter. They were too loose after Murray lifted them to see his wound... At least he was nice about it. Leaning back down onto his elbows he closed his eyes a moment before he looked back up towards the coon, only to get a slightly uneasy feeling from the smile he was giving off.
"Okay.. I made quite a promise to you.."
Ryland nibbled his bottom lip, looking cutely up towards Murray as his fluffy tail flicked against the couch cushions. Oh, would the coon hurry up and spit it out? If Ry's promise had been so big, then shouldn't they discuss it now so it could fall through or... something? Propping himself up further on his elbows, he nodded his head firmly.
"So, what was this promise, Murray... Or do you need to whisper it into my ear?"
His slender arms folded, head canting to the side as he adopted a rather dramatically pouty look. He needn't even speak for it to say "must I repeat it to you?" Murray took a seat upon the couch's arm, tail flicking to the side.
"Indeed yeh di'." He glanced backwards, his good eye narrowing to a gleeful half-moon. He could keep the kitten guessing, or tell him right then an there; perhaps Ryland could even suggest something more than he was thinking? It wasn't too bad, I can assure you this.
"But a prom'se is worthless if'n you forge' what i' was," he sighed loftily, clicking his heels upon the floor.
Ryland looked up at him and rolled over onto his stomach when Murray sat down on the arm rest. Thinking for a few moments, he stared up at Murray and his eyes got a slightly sad look. He felt horrible. Did he make a really big promise, or just a minor one?
"Well... did it..."
Ryland paused and bit on his lower lip. There was something about kissing in the back of his mind, but that couldn't be right. His eyes widened slightly and he shook his head just a little bit and let out a sigh before he sat up on his knees.
"Murray, the only thing that pops into my mind is something about kissing... but..."
Tilting his head to the side, he gave a sigh and looked down, his eyes closed tight. It took him a few moments before he put a hand on Murray's leg and leaned forward, pressing his lips lightly against the coons. His face went bright red and he refused to open his eyes until he pulled back. He moved his hand from Murray's lap and sat down, his cheeks flushing with a red tint.
A devilish smile curled his lips as the kitten pressed his mouth against his. He wasn't at all surprised, nor did he make any move to return the action. Murray simply sat there, grinning like the Cheshire and milking every solitary second of Ryland's guilt.
"'Mbarrassed, lass?" he teased, eye narrowing as he shifted on the arm, leaning back. "Firs' kiss?"
His claw curled beneath the cat's chin, drawing it upwards. His eye seemed to disappear against the fringe of his dark lashes - despite being sober, something about his clear-headed state of mind was more disconcerting than his usual inebriation. He was actually thinking for one.
"S'pose it isn' as 'mbarrassin' as yehr real prom'se?" Now to test the kitten's boundary of mind.
