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Some werewolves become half-man, half-wolf hybrids. Some become indistinguishable from normal wolves. Kitty's type? Conservation of mass at work: she's exactly as heavy a wolf as she is a woman...but not nearly as moon-bound as the ones who usually run these woods.

That's why she's picked today to check out the grounds, when the moon isn't full and nobody has to change. Her body language says I'm not a threat, I'm just looking, I won't hunt and she's paying attention to things.

People are things too! She'd be pleased to meet you!

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Kitty laughs as well, shaking her head, "Well, it's true! She still likes to get her husband to wear striped scarves..." Kitty is fine with waiting until Ace is done cracking up. It's warm in here.

"So wrong. So wrong. Wait until y'meet him an' y'can see how wrong that is. He's all teeth an' curls!" She cackles, pushing herself up off the wall again and heading towards the wardrobe.

Kitty says, "Oh, wow...he's real? I mean, TARDIS, yeah, but he's real? Wow."

"Yup. All... what, ten of him now? Ten. Only the fourth an' tenth come in currently, nine was here for a while but I don't think he'll be about again. Too bad, he had a wicked coat." She explains, checking a door, and scowling at the pool it reveals. "Cheeky machine. Anyway. Romana...dvoratrelundar is here too, though she appears less often - still finishin' up her thesis work. An' that's why I didn't take that route, too many bloody revisions. Ah, here we go. Help y'self."

"Sweet!" Kitty says with a laugh and a shake of her head, "I only watched the show up to...five? Then I got distracted by other things."

She then dives into the wardrobe with enthusiasm, surfacing again with khaki slacks and a white tank-top...and a comfy looking black biker jacket seriously too large for her. "TJ had one like this...I'll give the rest back, but can I keep this? Please?"

"Yeah, sure. There's no way I could even begin t'wear all the clothes that are in there, an' I prefer this coat." Her coat is special, if only to her. "Don't worry 'bout the clothes - I think the old girl likes havin' someone that appreciates her work."

"Thanks." Kitty says, burying her face in the leather before putting it on, "He was killed a couple weeks ago."

Ace nods, but doesn't comment. She's lost a lot of people, one way or the other, and there isn't one that she ever believed folk that were saying 'I know what you're going through'.

Kitty nods several times, but doesn't cry. She's not going to do that, damn it. She can keep it in.

Really.

"Anyway. Thanks for the clothing."

"No worries. M'mate goes through clothin' like it's goin' out of style." She snorts, heading back to the control room.

She fails to mention that it's not just his clothing he tends to run through.

Kitty nods a little bit and runs a hand through her hair, "Your mate?"

"Spoon. Werewolf, an' sometimes there just isn't time or inclination t'get undressed before shiftin', I guess. Anyway, 'bout the only thing he manages t'save consistently is boots." She explains, off-handedly.

"Spoon's almost as bad a name as mine." Kitty says wryly, "And...yeah. Sometimes you just have to change."

Ace thinks about this and, despite her best efforts, doesn't quite manage to hold in a giggle.
"Short for Witherspoon - he's had a rough patch, an' doesn't answer to his full name anymore without some problems. Easier an' kinder t'use the nickname."

"Fair enough." Kitty says, shaking her head, "My name, I have to say, came first. If I meet him, though, I'll call him Spoon."

"Sometimes I'm fairly sure someone with a whole heck of a lot of power an' not a lot of sense has a mean sense of humor." She notes wryly. "An' Spoon's best. Or Cutie-beep, which is a translation of an' earned name in a language that isn't at all from Earth in any way, shape, or form."

It's a wonder Cora got named something remotely normal between the two of them.

"Cutie-beep?" Kitty says, mouthing it several times.

Cora is Greek for girl. Spoon panicked.

"It's a rough version of a name that requires a lot of clickin'. I don't try it, I'd probably insult someone's grandmother or insinuate someone likes goats for sommat other than meat an' milk. I'm good at doin' that sort of thing." She shrugs, easily. She is a girl who knows her limitations.

"Gotcha." Kitty says, "I get someone to screen my calls, and I get pronunciation up on the screen for the weirder ones. Or I just go straight into you're on the air, what's your question?"

"On the air? You do radio or sommat?" Ace asks curiously, as she strolls back into the control room."

"Kitty Norville bringing you the Midnight Hour - the show that's not afraid of the things that go bump in the night." Kitty pitches her voice for broadcast, giving the rich, full tones she uses to record the commercials and do most of the show.

Ace snorts - that's cheesy, that is. But then, 99.999% of radio is, and what isn't is generally public broadcasting attempting to be SRS BSNS.
"Good name for it, anyway. Least it is if it doesn't go on at noon or sommat like that."

"Midnight Fridays on over two hundred stations." Kitty says with no small satisfaction, "For a show that started accidentally, I'm doing damn good."

"Sounds like a reasonable definition of success, right there." Ace agrees. It wouldn't be her definition of success, just because she really can't see herself having a job that... doesn't involve exactly what her job is, but then Ace is not Kitty by any stretch of the imagination.

"Oh, yeah." Kitty says, "I'm doing what I love, weekly, and seeing a lot of the continent while I'm at it."

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