Event Log | Days 18-20

[doomcame]

WHO: K, Squalo, Taissa, Chloe & Cat
WHAT: Cabin fever, but inside a jail. The above get stuck after seeking shelter from the storm.
WHEN: Days 18-20
WHERE: VII.C.25 AKA Martin's Jail™
WARNINGS: None yet, please add them to toplevels and I'll update this as necessary.
NOTES: Make your own toplevels within and tag around for shenanigans and bad times.

Comments

The Cat | Open

[absentconstellation]

The Cat would rather die of boredom than go out in the dreadful rain and wind outside, but fortunately that isn't necessary. Instead he keeps a fairly regular schedule of healthy exercise and recreation in order to keep himself occupied during their extended stay indoors. He's happy to share his routine with all of his human companions, who would probably be willing to do a great deal in order to get him to stop sharing:

He takes regular naps that last between 2 and 4 hours, several times a day. In the 3 or so hours between naps he entertains himself in a variety of ways: stretching his legs by running laps around the building at full speed, viciously hunting large dust motes, batting toxic berries around (since they can't be eaten, they may as well be cat toys), and investigating every inch of his new home (inanimate or otherwise) with his nose, paws and teeth. He's even lucky enough to find a foam stress ball to chew on and a dusty, moldy-smelling blanket to curl up on.

From time to time the blanket moves, either because someone touched something near it, someone moved and created a breeze, or he simply imagined that it did. At these times he reacts as quickly as instinct, pouncing on the part of the blanket that moved and grabbing it in his teeth before it has the chance to escape.

Day 18

[desperate_times_right]

At one point in the inspection portion of the Cat’s day, he finds Chloe watching him thoughtfully. She's thinking about her conversation with Maddy yesterday.

“Do you have a name, dude?”

[absentconstellation]

The Cat looks up, distracted from his investigation. He gives a short mew in answer, but it sounds remarkably like the word "no". He doesn't have a name that humans can use, anyway. He wonders if they'll give him a new name, and if it will make it more difficult for him to leave. He last died only a short couple of weeks ago, after all. It's a bit soon for him to be getting attached to a new life.

[desperate_times_right]

Chloe laughs, delighted. “Maddy thinks I should give you a name but it feels kind of weird to just name you if you're smart.”

[absentconstellation]

The Cat considers this, then turns so he can face her and sits, his tail curling neatly around his feet. It makes sense for humans to think this way, but what else can they do? He is a constellation, a collection of stars given meaning as the archetype of a cat. The names he has have always been given by mortals.

[desperate_times_right]

“Oh, okay.” It's kind of eerie how much it seems like this cat can understand her. At the same time, he saved her life so she kind of has to give him the benefit of the doubt.

Chloe thinks quickly, nervous from the responsibility, then considers her last few jobs at home. Who had been the most fidgety annoying person in the camp back then?

“What do you think about Sam?”

[absentconstellation]

He mews again, a brief sound of acceptance. Such a human name is a bit unusual as cats go, but it's a lot better than 'Blackie'.

[desperate_times_right]

It's too bad she doesn't have her phone. She’d love to take a picture to show to the human Sam later.

“Well, Sam, thanks for saving my life back there. Maybe take another nap.”

[absentconstellation]

She's very welcome, of course, but her suggestion is nonsense. He has far too much energy to sleep just now. Instead he crouches down and tries to bat at her hand.

[desperate_times_right]

As long as he keeps his claws in and doesn't try to bite her, Chloe’s happy to play with the cat for a bit. It at least keeps him from literally bouncing off the walls.

[absentconstellation]

He is very cautious about his claws, though less so about his strength. He's had claws for millenia, after all, and the strength for less than a month.

[desperate_times_right]

“Whoa!” That felt almost like a high-five from a human. “Where are you hiding those muscles?”

[absentconstellation]

He stops abruptly, making a brief sound of apology. He certainly doesn't want to hurt her by accident.

[desperate_times_right]

“It's okay, you didn't hurt me.” Over time it's feeling less and less ridiculous to talk to this cat like he's a guy. “It just surprised me. I didn't know cats could hit that hard.”

[absentconstellation]

All according to his master plan...

He crouches a bit, batting at her hand rather gingerly this time. He should really learn how to deal with this odd strength.

[obeir]

For K's part, he doesn't seem to especially mind the Cat's behaviour, at least outwardly — he knows a thing or two about what it's like being a cat, after all. Which is why he spends some time putting together a cat toy from scavenged materials. Poking a hole in one of the many bottlecaps he's found, he ties a length of thread to it and attaches the other end to a small stick. During the Cat's next designated exercise period, he brings out the makeshift teaser toy and wiggles it along the ground, hoping to catch the Cat's attention.

[absentconstellation]

The toy is somewhat shiny and makes a curious sound when it bounces on the ground, immediately capturing the Cat's attention and activating his hunting instinct. He freezes instantly, staying perfectly still while watching the bottlecap with overlarge pupils. Only the very tip of his tail moves, twitching madly.

[obeir]

Success! With the Cat now engaged in Hunter Mode, K wiggles the toy with more erratic movements to simulate prey, just as he learnt to do from Jackson Galaxy cat behaviour studies.

"Before coming out here on this rescue mission, I suggested your human companions try talking to you and asking your name," he says conversationally. He's probably the only person on the island who doesn't think it's weird to talk to animals as though they understand what's being said. Because they usually do, in his experience. And it probably helps, being an android himself and fully knowing other species and non-human beings are capable of intelligence equal to or beyond that of humanity.

"Do you have a name or preferred form of address?" he wonders.

[absentconstellation]

Now here's a reasonable two-legger. You can't get an answer if you don't ask. It may be unusual for cats to speak to humans, but it's also unusual for cats to have purple eyes. It doesn't usually take long for people to realize there's something strange about him.

He puts as much energy as possible into every pounce, leaping higher and coming down harder than necessary in an attempt to make up for his lack of activity indoors. He pauses in between jumps to answer.

"No," he says simply. The sound might be mistaken for a meow, but it's certainly and clearly a human word.

[obeir]

After a quick glance around just to make sure it isn't Squalo throwing his voice to troll him, the Cat's response is met with a bright smile. Vindication.

"I knew you could talk." But he isn't smug about it, just pleased that this means it'll be easier communicating going forward. Hopefully. And he doesn't neglect his play duties, yanking the bottlecap out of the Cat's reach at the last moment and sending it plink-plink-plinking in the opposite direction. "What should I call you, then?"

[absentconstellation]

He crouches again, watching the bottlecap closely, not really aware that his butt is wiggling as he prepares to leap. Of course he's aware that K is controlling the toy, but he allows himself to think of them as completely separate entities. It scratches the itch in his bones quite nicely.

"You may call me whatever you wish," he answers, then leaps at the toy hard enough that he skids a bit against the floor.

"Chloe has taken to calling me Sam." But Chloe isn't exactly his human. He watches over her for now, but he hasn't attached himself to anyone in this life yet.

[obeir]

K, on the other hand, both notices and finds the butt wiggling absolutely adorable; the android practically has heart-eyes watching the Cat play. He's never had an animal companion of his own, but he's always wanted one — the closest are Harley's two hyenas. But those are hers, pets she acquired with her ex if he recalls correctly, so he isn't sure if he'll ever qualify as their co-owner, though he does care for them.

"Sam's not bad, if a little plain for such a fancy cat," K says thoughtfully. "You kind of look like an Ellington to me. Or maybe a Miles, or Chet..." Because naturally his mind turns to the accomplished jazz musicians he so admires, whose music has been instrumental (pun absolutely intended) in his own musical journey. It's a compliment to the Cat, K wanting to name him after them.

"What's your home universe like?" he asks, letting the Cat catch the toy before lightly tugging against him, simulating struggling prey. "Is this how you always look? The island has altered a few of us, from the sounds of it."

[absentconstellation]

Any of those names are perfectly find to him. The name "Blackie" was one suggested for him, so his bar for creativity in names is pretty low.

When the bottlecap attempts to escape he finds himself biting it to keep it from getting away. He lets it go when he realizes what he's doing, since the game can't continue otherwise, but one fang has left a clear dent in the metal.

"I am always a cat," he conirms very precisely. Sometimes he is other things, but whatever he is, he is always a cat.

[obeir]

Bottlecap: 0, Cat: 1. Leaning forward, K reaches out to run a hand along the Cat's back as a sort of congratulations on the successful hunt. Which is really just an excuse to pet him. He may be a little guy, but he's still a cat, right? Just like he said so himself.

"Are all your senses intact?" A question inspired from noticing the Cat's unusual strength at times, especially when they'd been travelling, with the Cat perched on him.

[absentconstellation]

He starts to purr, leaning into K's hand. He is very much a cat, and he will be very displeased if people stop petting him just because he's intelligent.

"They are not. I am still adjusting to the changes."