milliways_bar | (no subject)

They haven't got robes or feet for attacking, just trackballs. Shiny, shiny trackballs. Hack and Slash have been sent to watch out over their charge (http://community.livejournal.com/milliways_bar/17037949.html), so techincally (natural? these two ARE bots), they're watching out for just about everything else.

Excuse their misplaced well meaning affections, they've just lost custody of their beloved pet null, Nibbles.

Scrap is about to pounce when she 'hear's them and decides to not pounce. The /last/ metal thing she pounced hadn't gone over well. Well, it had ended with milk, but that was beside the point.

She sits and mews at the strange .... things?

Yes. They are strange, strange bots. Don't worry, they work for truth, coding, and the Command.Com way these days.

One blue and metallic, three fingered 'hand' comes down to pet the little creature on the head. Pettings! With flashy lights coming from the chest of this thing.

Petting /is/ petting. She can't be too particular about that sort of thing. She purrs and turns over on her tummy for more petting.

Now the little kitten is just encouraging them. Hack decides it's his turn to ~~spoil~~ shower the kitten with affection.

The hand in question just keeps on scritching, yeh, they've missed having a pet these last few cycles...

Scrap is just fine with being spoiled. The bar has done that already. And the nice par patrons and their /milk/.

She wiggles on the floor, her tail twitching in responce to the rubbing.

Cuteness leads to petting, petting leads to tummy rubs, and tummy rubs lead to.. A small black kitten being picked up and snuggled by each of the mookbots, showering Scrap with babytalk.

Scrap does understand, mostly, but if the bots do not understand cat she probably will not be able to respond well, though she does try to nod and shake her head at once in a "Sorta" fasion.

Bonzo notices Scrap. Yes, the kitten gets his notice. "Hey there..."

Bonzo! Its Kit's friend!

Scrap attaches one claw into the loosest portion of his clothing and attempts to climb up.

Bonzo grabs Scrap to help her up (or at least attempts to). "No ripping the clothes, Scrap." Pause. "You alright?"

Scrap mews once in responce, perfectly understanding the boy, before clawing her way up to his sholder where she settles, her nose poking into the top of his shirt, wiskers ticking.

Bonzo winces visibly as Scrap climbs his body. "Ow..." And there's a bit of flinching as she prods into his shirt. "Please...don't do that. I'm still sore."

Scrap pulls her nose out and looks at Bonzo reprochfully, having smelled the faint smell of dried blood.

She twitches her tail once, looking for an explination.

"Wrong end of a bl...a gun." Pause. "Blame Achilles." Or the door. Your pick.

Scrap twitches her tail. There are no guns where she comes from. Nor does she know Achilles.

In all, his explination does not satisfy her curiosity.

Bonzo picks up on the unsatisfied curiousity. "The guy that killed Petra did his best to kill me." Pause. "He didn't succeed."

Scrap hisses, digging her claws in just slightly. Not enough to draw blood, but they're there.

Wince. "Could you please not do that, Scrap? It hurts."

Scrap rather thinks that Bonzo is a winer. Maybe she'll tell Ray that sometime, or maybe she'll go find that other person. The one who gave him the pretty medalian.

Scrap goes to jump off. It is a long ways down...

Bonzo blinks as Scrap jumps off. "You didn't need to get off me...just not dig your claws in."

Scrap lands lightly, she is a cat after all, and stalks away.

Oh oh oh cute, kitten inna bar!

Sariel's not paying attention to her feet when that little kitty comes by. Feet on floor, girl on chair, feet not on chair, say thankya. Her boots have laces, and though neatly tied, they're prime targets for little kitten claws to yank at. Just saying.

And Scrap is just a sticker for pouncing on shoelaces, /espessaly/ if they move. And the very ends are swining just lightly. It doesn't take much for Scrap to pounce upon them.

Serves Sariel right for having just twitched one foot ever so slightly. Swinging shoelaces indeed, and--what the heck? A surprised glance down reveals a, "Oh how cute! Hi kitty!"

Pause. "Er... are you a normal kitty, or do you talk?" considering her last encounter with a cat in the bar, it's a fair question.

Scrap can understand just fine, but no, her vocal cords to not go to human-talk. She springsonto Sariel's lap and shakes her head, purring.

Right. That about settles that. "I had to ask." And with that little bit of first contact-ish business out of the way, "Aww. Hi, kitty. You're a cute little thing!" The fact that said cute little thing is also purring helps as well, to be sure. Scrap is now getting pet, ears to tail.

Of course Scrap is cute. She's a kitten!

The purring gets much louder.

Sariel tends to agree with that viewpoint.

Excuse her while she melts at all the purring going on. "Awww." One of the fingers of the other hand is held in the direction of a little kitteny nose, the better to be sniffed or nibbled on at will. "Who do you belong to?"

The proffered finger is getting a tounge bath at themoment, so Scrap cannot answer. She really should wear that collar the bar gave her. Not that she has an /owner/, but she has her prefered people.

Oh, great. Now she's getting kitty kisses. There are worse things, at least... like little teeth. Ow. And besides, the cute is just plain irresistible by this point. Sariel's finger likely tastes a bit like guava; blame the fruit eaten at dinner.

Dark eyes scan quickly for a collar and find none. "You just look for snuggles from everyone, hmm? At least you're a friendly kitty." As opposed to some she knows *cough* Commander Data's cat *cough*.

Scrap nods and rolls over to get back to her feet. Being petted is nice, but there are plenty of people left to pounce tonight in the bar.

Sariel lets the kitten go--keeping her against her will would just be wrong. She does give the friendly little thing a last scritch behind the ears, though.

And Scrap licks the hand one last time before bounding off to pounce someone else.

"Oh!" I startle and drop the book I've been reading when I feel something tug at the hem of my dress.