Married Kitten
Tenebrae - Wednesday, November 30, 2016, 7:17 AM
-=--=--=--=--=--=-<* A09: Southern Banks of the Tornmawr *>--=--=--=--=--=--=-
Overhead, the Highbridge spans. Here is a pleasant enough bank, if one does not mind the ship traffic amid the broad and winding Tornmawr. A few picnicers spend their time here and a few blankets are present. Many of them are craftsfolk and other "ordinary" people, as well as a multitude of tired river sailors here on break. Or, the watchful husbands and wives of sea-sailors. To the south, the great river empties into that great expanse.
"...I don't know if I should worry that you're organizing a /party/, or that you won't tell me who's in it without smiling /THAT/ way." A certain familiar-looking grey-skinned half-Sil is lying on the riverbank, propped up on one elbow. She's talking to - gasp! - Sandy, of all people. There's two baskets beside them - one's open, and the other is not, and there are evidences of what might possibly have been pastry fights. Minimal evidence but still.
"Who said I was organizing it?" says Sandy, laughing. "I'm just intending to go and make it awful. Differently, though, than last time." She brushes her front off.
Mikilos wanders, as is his way at times, idly reading from some large text or another in his hands. The wizard doesn't pay that much attention to where his feet take him, they've done a pretty decent job on their own thus far, not taking him off anywhere too dangerous. And he does keep enough attention to not run into anything or step in front of anything lumbering... at least, not recently.
Roselle eyes Sandy with misgiving. "...What exactly are you planning on doing, and whose poor party are you planning to go make awful?" she enquires with justifiable wariness. "And...ack! Sandy quick catch the basket..." She sits up but is just a bit too late to prevent the second basket from tipping over and disgorging an indignant, fluffy-bundle of grey kitten who /streaks/ off towards freedom - in whatever direction it has fallen out in. This, very likely, is the Beer Wizard - err, Beer Engineer's - direction since kittens can Sense where to be most underfoot.
Sandy herky-jerks after it! She crawls on the ground after the kitten becasue the ground is too muddy to really get up and go after it without slipping. She reaches Mikilos' ankles and grabs the kitten right there. Then up at the freakishly tall elf.
"Oh, she likes you," she says, dryly.
Mikilos mmmms absently, finishing the sentence he's reading before looking up. Or rather down. "What? Who's this? You're not trying to get me married again, are you?" <repose>
Roselle pauses, mid-scramble for Kitten Retrieval. "...Who's getting married?" she asks then looks uuuup and exclaims, "Mikilos! Beer engineer of all people!"
"No one is trying to get you married, and I'm already wed, thank the Gods," says Sandy with a scowl at Mikilos. She finally, with the kitten in hand, gets to her feet.
"Somehow this is all your fault anyway."
Mikilos considers a moment. "No one's told Svar about polyamory, have they?" He crouches down, peering at the bundel of fur. "Who's this?"
Roselle evidently hasn't been told about polyamoury either. "What's polywhahuh?" she asks, looking a bit lost. "And oh! We don't know yet, Sandy just got it!" This last is about the kitten of course.
"Pretty sure it's acceptable in Sith tradition. Probably. More likely polyandry, though." Sandy snorts, then puts the kitten back in the basket, moving back towards it. "Little stinker," she grumbles at it.
Mikilos frowns thoughtfully, and shrugs, nodding to Roselle. "Marriage complications none of us need just now." Turning focus back towards Sandy, he smiles. "Fairly sure it has opinions on your scent as well."
Roselle wrinkles her nose. "It's enough of an adjustment being spoken for...and ohhhh the kitten likes Sandy." A grin. "It pee'd on her! Territory marking!"
"YOU DON'T NEED TO GO SHARING THAT, ROSELLE," says Sandy, loudly.
Mikilos smirks, but nods. "The sharing of water is a sacred pact in some cultures. The idea of 'I peed on this, it's mine now' is pretty universal, but what exactly is entailed by that claim of ownership can vary wildly."
Roselle gives Sandy a demure, innocent smile which would be convincing on an Oruch. Not. But Mikilos' comment makes her /choke/ with laughter and she splutters for a moment, turning suddenly pink.
"Mikilos," says Sandy.
"I will transform you into the world's smallest elf if you continue talking. And then step on you," says Sandy, acidly.
Mikilos considers a moment, eyeing Sandy. She's bluffing. Pretty sure she's bluffing. Even if she's bluffing, she'll still do something unplesant. He keeps quiet.
The half-Sil with the braid, however, has no such compulsions. She's still spluttering, trying to get her breath back after that sudden unexpected bout of coughing. But she does manage, "Well, we have to name the kitten, after all. You can't just call it 'Little Stinker' all the time, Sandy. I mean...you could but where's the fun in that?"
"Eh. I'll see what Myrana thinks," says Sandy, to delay the inevitable. "She already has a cat. Of couse, he's made of fungus and moss, so he doesn't really count."
Mikilos says, "Well, no, Rum just has a really bad case of mange.... or something vaugely of that order. But there is a cat under that moss. We checked."
Roselle blinks a little, looking just a trifle confused as she peers into the basket. The kitten, indignant at being confined again, is voicing its displeasure quite loudly. "...Fungus and /moss/? A cat? Err..." She takes a moment to marshall her thoughts. "So. This is a cat named Rum. Which is...covered...with...moss."
"You sure about that? I'm not," says Sandy to Mikilos with a snort. "Last I chcked, he spread spores everywhere he went. It's awful. She makes bread with it, though, that's delicious, or so I am told." She doesn't want to try it.
Mikilos nods. "Myrana's familiar. He's very very odd. But yes, he's a cat. A very very odd little cat, but still a cat."
Well at least that's cleared up. Roselle looks a little less confused, but apparently the idea of a cat that spreads spores which turn into bread...takes a wee bit of getting used to. "I don't suppose they're hallucinogenic spores," she says doubtfully. "I mean...there's a time and place for those, but /still/." A sigh. "Sandy, I suppose I really /will/ have to meet Myrana now. If just to tell Fazahd that yes, I was nice and respectful."
"Not that I'm aware of," says Sandy, "Fine, fine. I'll introduce you two at some point." She waves her hand, seeming irritabe about it! Then she glares at Mikilos again.
Mikilos waves vaugely. "Rum has grown a great many interesting and usual things. Though really if you're curious, just drop by the Ox Strength Tavern sometime...er, do be aware, the regular tend to be of a rougher sort... and the Oxley are terrible people."
"She's been there. She's my aprentice, after all," says Sandy to Mikilos. She looks up towards the sky for a long moment, "Andmy wife owns the place."
Roselle pauses for a moment. "The Ox? Myrana owns the Ox?" she repeats. And then starts laughing for whatever reason. "...Well that /would/ explain some things. Maybe they put things in the ale. And I've been there, Mikilos - remember? And yes the Oxleys are...interesting. But they don't /usually/ bother me." There's a very odd little spot of colour on her cheeks. Pause. "Or maybe it was just that Jokul had Sota sitting on the counter." She then picks up the baskets, handing the one full of kitten to Sandy. "Come on Sandy. You need to feed this 'un soon, it's mewing. And err..." One basket is offered to Mikilos. "Do you want a pastry?"
Mikilos smiles, and shakes his head. "Thank you, no. And yes, I'd forgotten we'd met at the Ox. Tend to be more.... vocal... characters thereabouts."
Eyeing her for a long moment, Sandy says, "Yeah. She does. I know you've been there from time to time." She smiles at Roselle.
"Wait, I have to feed it?" she asks.
Roselle lifts a brow. "...Yes, you have to feed kittens," she says, looking a little puzzled. "They do sort of...need sustenance. I'll help you get a diluted bowl of milk together for it, but you /have/ to at least name it first." She eyes Sandy warily back in return. "What's that smile for?"
Mikilos says, "Generally, that smiles means 'run, don't look back'. But in this case, I think it's rather too late."
Roselle gives Mikilos a dubious glance. "Waaaaay too late," she notes with a cryptic sigh. "I agree, the Oxleys are awful, but as I said, they don't...really give me a lot of trouble. They just give me really strange looks and back off, like I'm mad."
"FEh," is what Sandy says. But then she's on her way off with Roselle, it woiuld appear.