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Pussyfooting
Posted: 14 Dec 2014, 16:07
by Zodiac
Those that walked the night and were forever enslaved to it thought they understood the darkness, but they were newcomers to such games in the cosmic scope of time itself. Creatures such as herself were born with such skills and knowledge ingrained into their very being and used it without even thinking about it. When one would ask what lurks in the shadows, those that knew would say 'vampires' but did the vampires know what lurked, lived and thrives in the shadows long before they were ever brought into a unholy semblance of life itself? Hardly.
Vampires, zombies, and others were harmless fiends compared to what she could spy dimly in the darkest corners of the night as she prowled about. She was a passing guess in such halls of darkness. Her eyes seeing such things as they truly were and if she could speak she could tell them things perhaps they themselves did not realize. Her line were the heirs to such secrets of light and darkness and had been a part of them since light divided into darkness. Genetic memory held volumes of such tidbits of information that would not be rediscovered for millennia yet to come, but to her it was simply old news if she processed thought as homo sapiens did.
She simply understood. She knew, by instinct if not rational thought. She moved like a ghost past those who now claimed the night as their own personal hunting grounds. Passing from sight without a sound as her paths took her around the town. Would such things as the vampires listen if she suddenly was able to voice her impressions and instincts into terms they could understand? Doubtful. The arrogance of man- alive, dead, or in between- was legend. What would something as simple as she know of the night? The darkness? The depths of evil and chaos? What hid just beyond human eyes that could ever make such as they run and lock themselves in their coffins like children hiding from the boogeyman? Her words would be considered nonsense and dismissed.
Not all, of course, but the amount that would strive to understand such as her was not enough to matter, and what secrets the few would gain from the likes of her would be dismissed as the ramblings of the insane.
If she could, she would pity them.
Her person was different. The girl tried to understand the clues and hints her nature allowed her to share with other creatures, yet the girl could only gain the barest of scraps in the process. It was not her fault. They were made so differently for two creatures some insisted were forged by the same hands in the beginning. The 'Creator' had been most generous when the likes of the living shadow had been designed and put onto this world, yet had cheated what some would say was the pinnacle of creation. How unfair that was in human eyes, yet to the twin points of emerald fire that could see so much in the blackness it made perfect sense. Her senses was a firestorm of activity and perceptions and she knew the thing was near long before she saw it. The surrounding air temperature had dropped a couple of degrees and the atmosphere has suddenly turned a touch. The scent alone screamed like a banshee but even the sharpest of vampire noses would not catch it for several more yards in approach (far better than a normal human, yet still tragically short) and her eyes saw hints of the unnatural aura that was suddenly beginning to form as she approached the spot. A plethora of evidence and insight, yet the humans (collectively) would stagger blindly right into it without a clue. Poor things they were she would think if she was capable of such complex thoughts.
The large cat stopped and sat on her haunches, allowing her tail to curl around her feet as she waited for the thing to make itself known. It did not take long.
The thing roared as it discovered it was not alone. The lumbering hulk paused as it looked down at the bit of fur sitting in its path as its limited mind debated the problem. The feline, on the other hand, just stayed focused on the entity. Vampires called them 'fadebeasts' and perhaps it was an accurate title considering their limited perceptions. Genetic memory named them something else, if such things mattered. She had seen others of the night kill them on sight. Her own person had finally learned how to do it as well. A menace. A threat. A danger. They were called, but did any of them truly understand what they actually were and what their purpose was besides target practice?
The cat knew, again by instinct, and let out a low note of warning to the behemoth while holding her place. She was not here to cause it harm of stop it from doing what it was here to accomplish. In that, the pair was alike to a degree. They were avatars of something none of the world around them even began to understand.
The beast roared again as it considered the problem before it. One of its hands reached out for the cat and the feline responded by arching its back and yowling loudly. The fur bristling as it flashed its fangs. Claws ready to attack as it gave a final warning. The thing hesitated as those eyes fixed on it sharply as the two 'spoke' to each other in a way beyond the evolved concept of words. If her person was with her, she would have lashed out to emphasize the point and help protect what was hers, but she was alone this night so simply made her point clear.
Leave me alone. Be about your business if you know what is good for you.
The hand pulled back as a low note of confusion escaped the thing's lips. The cat relaxed and began to walk again in that haughty gate most felines had as she passed between its legs and continued her journey. The beast turned and watched for a few moments before something caught its attention and it began to lumber in the direction the cat had come from. The cat could care less what the thing did now. It had learned its lesson concerning her. It had its business and she had hers and that was all that mattered cosmically speaking.
(tbc)
Re: Pussyfooting
Posted: 15 Dec 2014, 12:29
by Zodiac
The rat squealed a death knell as the fangs bit deeply into its body. She had finally grown bored of the game. Sometimes she let them scurry off back to their holes when she was finished, but tonight she felt hunger despite the fact her person always made sure she had plenty of food and water and comforts. This was the way of things. The REAL way. The life of a pampered pet was a thin illusion humans believed in. Her true self needed, demanded, to be catered to. Around her, other sets of eyes like her kill possessed watched in fear of her. To their eyes and limited perceptions, she was a goddess of life and death that had come to dance among them and give her blessings of both.
She was their darkness. Their damnation. Yet in the same light she was mercy and salvation. Just as it had always been. If their minds were more like the humans, would they bow and grovel in her presence? Perhaps offer tributes and sacrifices to appease her nature? An image would present itself of her sitting in a pool of light as her worshiping hoard of rats cavorted around her hoping to please her and still her wrath. Even if such a thing happened, neither the cat or the rats would see it as anything more than instinct. No values or ego inflating/deflating, or badge of superiority/inferiority to be gained. It would simply be a fact and nothing more.
She devoured the best parts of her kill and then moved on. Leaving the remains for the rat's brothers and sisters to devour as they saw fit. It was the way of things. Simple.
The cat slipped out of the alleyway and approached the large fence separating Wickbridge from the Zone. Unnoticed by the guards or the curious, she slipped between the lengths of wire and entered the area. The 'quiet' of the place attracted her. She could sometimes rest her undisturbed among the ruins. A few nimble bounds that denied her bulk and she sat on top of a abandoned car and basked in the moonlight. She looked up at the glowing orb above in silence. Her eyes saw the Moon in ways humanity collectively could not. She dimly was aware what the glowing orb represented and what it truly meant as she meowed softly, as if in respect for the entity represented by the cold lifeless hunk of rock that circled her home. It was a moment of tranquility that soon ended.
Her hackles raised as she sensed she was not alone. Muscles tensed only to uncoil violently as she jumped aside a second before the feral hands grabbed at her. She hissed and yowled loudly at her attacker, but unlike the lumbering brute earlier, there was little intelligence to deal with here. This thing was beyond any form of communication save the blind hunger that motivated it into action. Whatever non verbal means the cat had to expressive itself fell on nothing in reply. The feral jumped up onto the car and hissed in reply as it saw food within its reach. The cat bolted past the creature and dashed across the open ground. The feral was quickly in pursuit now. 'Easy prey' was a rarity in its view of things and not be allowed to escape so easily.
Another bound and the cat landed on top of a dumpster and turned to face its latest problem. The thing had no sense of strategy or tactics to it. It simply charged straight at the cat in a slobbering rage of need. Again, she yowled a warning and hissed as she stood ready, but it was wasted effort.
The feral ran right into the metal side of the dumpster. So intent on catching its prey, it failed to realize something was causing it to fall short of its goal for a moment. Claws lashed out, tearing fresh wounds into the already ruined flesh of the thing. Undaunted, it began to climb up in single-minded determination. Now the cats natural weapons lashed out against its face. The feral howled as one lucky strike found one of its eyes. Causing it to burst like a bloated, rotten grape. When she saw the thing's attention was suddenly divided, she ran again. The broken gates of the graveyard open in welcome as she slipped into the darkness and dodged about among the gravestones. A few moments later, the feral charged in, now more determined than ever, but it soon gave up the search as fresh prey caught its attentions. She watched the thing go about attacking someone else (vampire) from her perch on top of one of the mausoleums. She debated for a few moments till her senses told her she was safe up here, then settled down to nap.
Later, to the amusement of the soldiers who guarded the main gate, she slipped out and walked away as if she owned the place. She was not what the troops were sat in place for to guard against escaping from or entering the Zone, so they laughed and allowed her to pass.
Now she moved about the people who walked the streets. Due to her coloring and nature, she was not easily noticed so she glided about the forests of legs with ease while not drawing attention to herself. Occasionally she followed someone into a building. In human terms, it was a crap shoot. The reactions once she was discovered inside varied from place to place. Some of the persons grew angry and downright violent when they found she had graced them with her presence, while others welcomed her like an old friend come to call. Some of the persons even knew her person, so fawned over her with treats and pets. It was a pleasant situation. A few places, she had learned from experience, she never went near. The vibe was simply wrong, despite the fact the persons within were friendly. They were few and far between in her travels. Names meant nothing to the cat, but the aura stood out like traffic lights in the darkness and marked them just the same.
(tbc)
Re: Pussyfooting
Posted: 17 Dec 2014, 00:59
by Zodiac
Portals.
The idea was not a new thing and the cat was used to traveling in such a fashion. Portals were handy bolt holes to escape terrifying things, such as her person insisting it was time for a BATH (or worse- the psychotic demon disguised as a person the other persons call THE VET.) Portals existed long before vampires learned how to make them and set them for specific locations. She was the living proof of that. How often did her person wonder how she could be somewhere else so quickly? Her eyes could find them with ease. Sometimes they were large enough to allow the persons to use and how did they think the 'fadebeasts' (their term) slipped into our world? But the portals she favored were tiny things. Just large enough to let her slip into, yet small enough that no human could make use of it and when she found new ones, curiosity always took control.
One of the places she wanders into is quite familiar. She has been there before with her person. The doors part for her as her bulk triggers the electric eye above. She hardly notices. She is suddenly awash in a plethora of scents familiar, no so, old, new. One stands out loudly among the others and she crouches and pauses as she looks about. If the animal could put into human terms what she was smelling, it would be something like Me-part of me-not me She let her nose guide her and she sneaked about from spot to spot in search of the source of the scent. When she found it, she crouched down and waited till the moment was right and with a wiggle of her backside charged out and pounced the smaller black cat. The pair tussled and cavorted about the displays for a time before calming down. It was in this place she discovered a portal that was new to her. The cat sniffed about the edges, ignoring the warnings from her girl-child. She had seen persons suddenly vanish in that spot and tried to warn her mother as she stepped into the middle of the circle and promptly vanished.
***
Out of reflex, she froze as the world was suddenly normal around her again. Eyes taking in the scant light to reveal the surroundings. Once she had a clear line of sight she began to pad along exploring this new place. There were persons here. Persons like her person. Not quite alive anymore and other things. The scent confused her. FISH-not fish was the closest her limited thoughts could identify the scent of an aquatic mammal. FISH-not fish PERSONS did not click. They looked like persons but smelled like fish. It was all wrong to her limited logic.
She ignored the various shiny things as she walked along. There seemed to be a lot of them for some reason. Other things too like the pods on plants she sometimes batted at when they moved in the breeze. They were larger. She poked at a couple of them before growing bored with them and moved on. Outside of water, there was nothing organic save rock. Rock everywhere. Under her paws and to the sides and above. Rocks. It was rapidly becoming a boring experience. The persons were either grabbing the shinnies or fighting the fish-not fish things. This was nothing new. She had seen things like this too many times to recall properly in other places here. She twisted and dodged the legs of combatants as she searched for a way out. There had to be one. Her nose catching the occasional scent of fresh air among the smells. She just aimed herself to the aroma while avoiding the large voids that went even deeper into whatever this was. Eventually she found something that resembled a door and she waited in the shadows. When one of the persons came inside, she darted out into the night and found herself in the wilderness as the door closed behind her.
tbc
Re: Pussyfooting
Posted: 20 Dec 2014, 05:05
by Zodiac
Now she was in her element.
Just as in town, the more natural landscape around it held its own symphony of sights, sounds and scents that the feline basked in as explored. It had dangers as well, but the majority of them were dangers her senses and instincts labeled as 'normal'. Wolves and her larger cousins were no true worry to her. Her size and speed her advantages, but her first encounter with a bear had been something of an eye opener. It took her mind several moments to comprehend how something so large and un 'catlike' could follow her up into a tree (one of her stand by skill sets). Fortunately for the feline, bears do not jump from tree to tree so successfully.
Rabbits abounded, but she avoided them as a norm. The cat avoid all the animal she could as the norm for a simple reason. Not all the animals were animals. Even in the deep woods, a taint was in the air she could smell. A taint placed there by the 'alive-not alive' types such as her own person. It grew much stronger the closer she moved in the direction of the town, yet it was slowly spreading outwards even into the areas the alive-not alive did not go normally. Just enough to confuse the cat if say for example the rabbit she decided to pounce upon suddenly began to unfold into one of the alive-not alive persons.
Instinct told her it was safer not to play with other animals out here.
Besides, there other things much more fun to taunt and torment in the woods.
As one of the heirs to Bast herself and the secrets her kind knew and accepted as normal, her eyes were legend. In the course of their, and human, history a cat's perceptions of sight was nothing short of awe inspiring- if such legends were held to be true, of course. Where humans were blind, they could see with perfect clarity and perhaps understanding. She saw the wraiths that her person called into this world, even if she didn't comprehend what they actually were, and saw the occasional lost spirit in her travels floating about. Did they see her? Possibly. Some of the wraiths actually spoke, but what they said meant nothing to the feline.
She also saw the older ones. They had many names. 'Fae' was the most accepted term, but in a twitch of genetic memory 'older ones' fit the cat's perceptions because these things had been around as long as her kind had been. This was nothing new. She had seen them occasionally all her life. Especially in the places between towns and such when she traveled with her person. (Back when her person was still alive and not as she was now). If she was capable of pity, she would have felt bad for her person who always did small rituals to honor them and ask permission to rest in a place during their journey. The cat always saw them, but her person was blind to them. It was the same now but with one difference. Now the older ones would attack her person if they found her out and about away from the town. They never bothered her person before.
Instinct and loyalty grinded when the animal pondered this. Normally they did nothing to the cat. The feline would jump about and play with them. The vibes she would pick up from them so unique, but now her protective nature overrode those feelings. Whenever they were out in the woods, she would warn her person when she felt them growing close. That much the girl had been able to translate properly about the various clues the cat would give off, and promptly removed herself to a safe spot till the danger had passed.
The fun for her would truly come when the fae got within her reach. They were not used to an animal attacking them at all. Normally animals had no reaction to them, so for a simple housecat to act like a tiger had to confuse them. She would chase them, claw at them, suddenly scream when they were close. Her delights came in upsetting their normal dealings as much as possible. Their reactions were funny (to her perspectives) and on the occasion they would try to hurt her in return, again she was simply too small and too fast a target for them.
She took a roundabout route through the deep woods as she made her way back to where the persons lived while upsetting every Fae she ran across with something akin to vengeance and sinister delight.
tbc
Re: Pussyfooting
Posted: 23 Dec 2014, 02:37
by Zodiac
Her paths in the wilderness usually had little goals to them (beyond tormenting the fae) but there was one place that from time to time caught her interests. A small ping of memory would go off when she saw it if her paths took her into the area. She would sit and look up, and up, and up, at the large tree. Dimly she'd recall playing in the branches of the giant with her person or wandering about annoying the other persons that actually dwelled within its embrace. Her tail twitched lazily as her eyes saw the hints of traps spread about. If she wished, she could slip through them like a ghost and explore yet again (more accurately: annoying those within yet again), but she was tired now so turned from her observations and kept moving along.
As she emerged from the foliage and stepped out onto the deserted road, instinct told her that her playmates were 'trapped' behind her. If the cat was capable of higher reasoning-at least as we understand such things- she may have pondered the problem. There was no ley lines or any signs to suggest there was something keeping the older ones from following her or any of the alive/not alive back into the town proper. All manners of other creatures roamed the town freely, yet the Fae shied away from the dwellings. Also, she had watched her person (and other persons) summon the least of the older ones to do their bidding, so if something could be summoned, it could walk in as well but they chose not to. She paused and shatted on the invisible line as if in contempt.
The cat then continued across the road and slipped into the outer neighborhood like a shadow among others. The problem was not hers. In the translations of her impressions she was content. The older ones could not follow her back to her person and cause her harm. That was enough.
Disinterested eyes kept the animal from running into the small dramas playing out around her as she walked along. She had seen these stories play out too many times to even focus her attentions beyond avoiding getting stepped on. Alive/not alive preying on the alive. Alive/but more hunting the alive/not alive. Creatures hunting all the above. Scavengers searching for things for their masters. All mixed into the dramas she had seen in other towns where her person and herself traveled the lands. The concepts of drug deals, stealing, sex, murder, and a hundred other concepts the persons have worked to perfection during their time on this world meant nothing to the feline. It was 'Person Stuff' to sum it up, just as a human would jest about 'It's a cat thing'. The Persons, no matter what sub category they fell into, made war with each other in such manners. On this, the animal had no concept to even compare such behavior to. Her own kind fought on occasion, but not as a constant thing. Defend themselves, their spots, the young. Those ideas would make sense, but to prey upon one another for the very sport of it? Also, these two legged things ruled the world? How?
In the places where the gods and goddesses dwell, sympathetic laughter rang out as one of the least of creation wondered the problem. How could a cat figure out a problem even such as they were baffled by.
More familiar sights and scents came to her now as she continued South. The large lighted sign that told the persons Welcome to Honeymead Marketplace meant nothing to the cat, but the scents drew her like a beacon she could not ignore. There were quite a lot of them. This area she considered Hers basically. Her turf, her domain. Very few strays dared to enter unless they wanted to deal with her in a less than friendly mood. She didn't mind the occasional guest or another passing through (or when others came with their persons) but it was made clear. All of this is mine. That included the persons who recognized the cat and said kind words to her as she passed. Sometimes basking in attentions such as pets or the occasional treat. The Market was her Queendom, but the throne itself sat in only one place.
tbc
Re: Pussyfooting
Posted: 12 Jan 2015, 15:44
by Zodiac
The top of the bookcase gave her a perfect view of the whole storefront area below. It afforded her the upper hand in any potential confrontation and kept parts of herself free from curious hands (the small persons could not resist pulling her tail while the larger ones enjoyed stepping on it. Neither was acceptable.) and left her free to doze or keep watch with impunity. It wasn't her only 'spot' to be sure. The entire building was covered with invisible markers she had left with her presence and she moved back and forth between them gracefully while keeping a sharp eye on the persons who came and went from this place.
One person kept her attention far more than the rest. Her Person. She and the girl shared a connection few would even understand, save other persons who had spent years with a cat to tend and guide them. The concepts of time and miles not understood the way persons do, but so much of it with the pair as one had been devoted to this by herself. Was it love? Her kind showed affections but no one was sure if her kind truly loved, especially something that was not one of their race, but how many times had she surrendered herself into her person's care when she was ill? Whose food did she take, even when the urge to be her own provider burned strong within her? When she gave birth, only one hand was welcomed to comfort her and to first behold the little glories she brought into this life. Any other would have been met with fang and claw, but not her person. The two obsessed on each other at times. The cat had attacked and raged when her person was attacked and forced into this 'Alive/Not Alive' life she was trapped in now. She had failed in her self appointed task that night, but continued undaunted. How many days ended and found her curled beside the girl as she slept the sleep of the Alive/Not Alive and as she dozed her ears searching for anything to betray the fact her girl might be in danger?
More than any, even her person, would ever realize.
The cat's ears twitched as a familiar pattern was going on below among the persons and her person. She stood up and stretched herself before jumping down off of her perch and following her person and the other person to the back and slipped in ahead of them when the door was opened. She knew what was coming. The persons would play with the pictures again and talk. Almost every person who came to play with her person (especially the ones just like her person. Alive/Not Alive) fell under her scrutiny and eyes as they played the game. Sometimes she would watch from the back of her person's chair, but most often she would ascend to her private throne and settle against the silk skirts her person wore in comfort on the girl's lap. Some of the persons were unnerved as they played the picture game. The way she looked at them like some scientist studying a bug and debating should it be killed or not. Over time, she and her person had learned to understand each other and the subtle (and not so subtle) clues she would give would be noticed at once. Her perceptions far sharper than even the ones her person now had as a result of her being changed. The moment she would sense something was off, she would let her know. The touch of her person's hand flowing down her back a silent signal to her that her help and presence was always welcome and appreciated and thus, the two 'queens' held court in the room of purple colors.
She had failed her person once. It would not happen again.
tbc
Re: Pussyfooting
Posted: 31 Jan 2015, 01:09
by Zodiac
Despite being the queen in her own castle, there were elements within her domain that if she had any say in the matter simply would be exiled to somewhere else outside of her range of influence. Her person had surrounded herself with others considered animals as well.
One was the owl.
She had found it when it was a youngling. Injured, separated from it's parent. She had tried to put it out of its misery several times, only to be stopped by her person and another. Another alive/not alive who was part of her person now in some way she could only sense-not understand. She suffered the bird as her person healed it, fed it and raised it. It was not very smart in the cat's view. Several times her person tried to give it back its freedom, but the bird kept returning to her. The thought of another creature so dependant on another made her inner self bristle in the equivalent of disgust. Now she was forced to share her person with the bird, who demanded her attentions far more than she did.
Remove the bird, the problem would be solved. Why didn't her person and the others understand this? She tried to do this, but was stopped every time. It was maddening. There was another bird elsewhere. A crow. It was more like her, so it wasn't so irritating.
She only tried to eliminate that one when the mood found her.
A couple of the drooling, nasty things (dogs) were within her realms as well, but they were smarter than the birds, thus they understood their places in the order of things. They had their purpose, she supposed, but they never challenged her place in things (as the stupid owl did) so only an occasional reminder was called for to keep things in their proper lines of order.
Only one of these others commanded any respect from her at all, but only for its insidious nature. It lived in her person's gardens. Sometimes she played games with the serpent, but she never grew too complacent or let her guard down around it. The serpent was sly and bided its time as it slithered about its own queendom and once it caught her by surprise. She barely jumped out of the way as the snake struck out to claim her. She saw how the serpent disposed of its meals in the past and was lucky she did not end up in its coils. Several times she had pondered disposing of it, but it was simply too large and strong.
She never relaxed or slept in the gardens unless her person was there as well.
To say she was the only one like herself would be an error. There were two more who understood what it was to be perfection. One was part of her. Her last remaining child from her one, sole litter (so far) Often people saw them together and commented how much the daughter was a mirror image of the mother, but if that idea could have been explained to her, she would scoff. There were hundreds of differences between them she could see with her senses. The child was.... a child. It did not grasp things as she did. She tried to teach her offspring, but often it did no good. She would lay somewhere in the home and watch the child amuse her person with her antics and playing and just close her eyes in a type of disgust.
Such a waste.
The other was an oddity. A male (no longer a male in human views). Unlike her he was orange and was in charge of her person's person, but he never seemed to do a very good job of it. He was ignored by his person. That idea alone made her feel a degree of pity for him (it) and it seemed she had adopted his person as well. The persons were a pair of sorts in their interactions and dealings and often she would lay on the bed watching over them both as they slept away the daylight. Sometimes her child joined her but she doubted it had a clue as to why she did what she did. She was never mean to the orange one and often allowed him to bathe and groom her or to keep company next to her when she slept by the fire.
Just as things should be.
tbc
Re: Pussyfooting
Posted: 23 Feb 2015, 05:51
by Zodiac
She ran as if her very life depended on it. Such a thing was odd for the feline. Where others would hesitate or flee, she would stride in boldly to conquer, dominate, own. That was her normal behavior against living (and otherwise) things and while some might argue the storm seemed to be almost alive that Thursday, it was an entity that did not recognize the cat as anything more than just another bit of flotsam in the chaos it was creating with its passing. She had already begun the trek back to the warmth of the fires in her person's home when the winds began to pluck and tear at the world around her. Lighting flashed and the cat turned its attentions upwards in the darkness and saw the boiling mass descending downwards to overtake the area. Her pace quickened now and by the time she ran past Argent Manor, the rains had begin to hit. She hated to be wet if not by choice and this rain almost stung when it hit her. Instinct was screaming in her skull now. RUN! FIND SAFETY! The trees a passing blur now as she put more effort into her flight. The wind and rain working in tandem now as it lashed out. She stayed on the ground as best she could as the roads began to change into rivers. Instinct told her find shelter, but something more aimed her at a specific point. Branches, small to begin with, snapped free and fell as she darted across a road she could not avoid, and then another. The third road she crossed her feet failed her and she slid to the side of the road and tumbled back into the rapidly freezing grass. In her limited perspectives, water turning to ice this quickly was rare and thus a very bad thing. She jumped and yowled as a car also began to skid on the ice, only to crash into a tree a few feet to her left. She turned and ran. The concept of if the driver was alright alien to her as she made a direct line across Thornside Park. She was close now to her goal and ignored how the water in her fur was turning to ice.
When the first tremors hit, she stopped dead in her tracks. She had felt the ground shake before when her person and others like her did things to cause it to happen, but this was bigger, larger than anything they had managed. The ground cracked open. Another first in her experiences and she shied back a few steps in confusion. Her eyes found a undamaged path and raced along it as more shakes began around her. Now the water was freezing in the air as snow began. If her instincts could be understood by humans (or others) it might sound like a continuing loop of ALL WRONG! ALL WRONG! Another shake filled the ground and parts of the buildings began to break loose and fall. The cat screamed in almost blind panic now. Almost tempted to dark into the nearest hole it could find till it saw its goal at last. A final burst of speed took the animal across the frozen, rapidly snow covered street and around to the back of the building. Her head nudged the cat door open and she slid inside.
The fire was out. She meowed loudly to announce her presence. Why was there no fire? Her person always had a fire going? The shakes had upset her home as well as she walked past items that had been tossed from shelves or rattled and slid off tables as she looked about the rooms searching. The lights and heat was still on (for now) and she walked past bowls of food and water and flopped herself next to a heating vent as she began to chew the ice from her fur. Slowly she began to feel warm again as she patiently continued to clean herself, pausing occasionally to look around and meow in curiosity.
Her person wasn't here. Normally that was not a surprise, but if her person wasn't here then her person was out there where she had (barely) escaped from. The animal did not feel comfortable in that and , despite instinct, got up and approached the cat door again. Her head butted against it but found it did not open as it always had. She tried again and this time it moved just enough to allow snow to fall inside on the mat, then snap shut again from the pressure of the snow building up against it outside.
"Meow." her normally confident voice now holding an octave of fear or concern now. She turned and began to inspect the rooms closer. She found her daughter comfortably hiding in the overturned laundry hamper under various bits of clothing, while the orange one was hiding under the desk. Both of them were reeking with fear. Another tremor shook the entire building and even herself stood ready to run for a moment before relaxing again.
Eventually, the three cats were huddled together on the bed of her person. She had soothed and calmed them both as best she could. Her child was curled up against her side while she used the orange one as a pillow for her head. Occasionally her eyes opened as if looking for something. By the time the power began to flicker and finally fail in the Ivy Bluffs complex, all three were fast asleep.
TBC
Re: Pussyfooting
Posted: 07 Apr 2015, 02:41
by Zodiac
The world around her was slowly going back to normal. She had watched her person work to put their home back into a sense of order after the storm. Glass swept up, items replaced or repaired. Everywhere she traveled after that night she saw the same thing playing out. All the people (living and not so living) working to put things all back together as they had been before.
It did not matter to her, of course. Her world was seriously compromised since the storm. Her places had been flooded, damaged. Where she normally found prey was now empty of life. Even the woods surrounding the town has suffered. The wild ones had casualties as well, but they would return in time. The only thing left undisturbed were the fae. They seemed most amused by what had happened to the town for reasons she could not understand. After all, she was just a cat.
She looked down into an open sewer and instead of hearing the sounds of her favorite prey she found the stench of death. The flooding had not been kind and she saw corpses-either drowned or frozen to death littering the underground paths she normally used. They would be back sooner than most. They always were. No matter what befouled the world, the rats always returned stronger than ever.
That's why they were the perfect prey. She could destroy all she wanted. There would always be more.
So in a world thick with the promise of more-later, the cat was basically bored to tears.
The seasons were changing. She knew this far sooner than anyone could. Even her person who gathered friends to celebrate the changes in the seasons did not sense it until long after she had. Life was returning to the world around them. Not that many of the alive-not alive paid attention to such things. They were too busy bringing more death about or making others like themselves. Their numbers were growing now. New faces and scents she had never encountered before, once an occasional thing, was now several times a night. If she could think, she would be concerned. The prey of the 'alive-not alive' did not return as fast as the rats did. Obviously they lacked the inner instinct her and other animal predators had. There was a time to hunt and a time not to. She knew this as well as every other animal, but they kept at it.
Odd.
Re: Pussyfooting
Posted: 18 May 2015, 01:35
by Zodiac
She knew that sound. Her ears twitched as she heard it. Her person was upset with something. The cat stood up and stretched herself and padded away from her place by the fire. She ignored her child and the orange one that watched her pass in mild curiosity. She made her way into the room she heard the sounds from but did not see her. Now the sounds were coming from her bedroom.
In curiosity, she jumped up on the desk she felt the girl had been sitting at moments before. Several books lay open along with some old letters. Several of them had been laminated to prevent the documents from being damaged any more than they had been due to age and constant handling. The cat sniffed about the items, finally to stare at one of the pages.
....And into darkness you will go, my star. I have seen it too many times to ignore it in various forms of divinations. Something on this road you are on now will change you in ways I do not understand. Changes that may shake you to the very core of what you are. You will not want these things, but they will happen regardless, but though you may change in ways your core can survive. Never forget who you are, where you have come from, and where your true self lies. That will be your anchor in the darkness. I wish I could protect you from this, my Angel, but I cannot. But I also know you will make me proud in that darkness as well. You will grow in ways you cannot imagine and yes, will be a power in your own right. How you will use those powers will decide who and what you have become. But consider this, in the darkness, a single light can be a dazzling thing to behold....
The feline kept staring at the meaningless words, as if something among them was striking a chord deep within. A type of recognition it did not quite understand. A paw brushed over the slick surface of the trapped letter.
....There is nothing more to say. I am sorry it has come to this, my Angel, but some things we have no control over. I will be with you, Angela, some way, shape or form. I promise you. Be proud, be strong, be my dream.
Do what you must-
Survive.
Something familiar or just idle curiosity? Ginny meowed softly. She turned her attention from the confusion of papers and jumped down to the floor and made her way into the bedroom. With a single bound, the cat landed on the bed next to the crying girl. At once she nuzzled against her cheek and chirruped softly. The girl looked up with streams of crimson leaking from her eyes. The cat never felt comfortable when she saw her person like this. She meowed and began to knead her paws against the woman's breast.
"Is okay," That strange feeling like something was crawling inside the cat's skull came again. She was now used to it. The words were meaningless, but the tones were another thing. The cat did not resist as her person took her in her arms and hugged her against her chest. Her person petting her softly as the crimson continued to leak from her eyes.
"I still miss her." a tone of sadness echoed in the cat's brain. "Every time things get so fucked up, I think 'Nana could fix this'. 'Nana would know what to do' ."
The cat settled against her person and chirruped gently, then began to purr.
"She could have done miracles with what I have learned, and all I do is mess things up more." A deep note of despair joined the tones now. The feline turned her head and meowed loudly. A few moments later, her child and the orange one jump up on the bed as well. Instinct kicks in as the other two curl up against the girl, They too sense the off mood of their person and seek to make it go away. The larger cat continued to nuzzle and purr as well. Eventually the emotional storm calmed within her person as she slipped into the sleep the alive-not alive did when they was fatigued. The large black cat gently pawed at her face before settling down against her for the evening.