Death Comes In The Night On Little Cat's Feet

[death_gone_mad]

The front door flutters, as it were merely an oddly embroidered curtain. The reason why it fluttered stops her silent jog into the bar to reorient, sniff the air, and remember.

Oh, this is the public house with the undead rat servants, thinks the grey kitten with the fierce red eyes.

She continues on to the side of the pub with windows out toward the back area, and leaps on top and off of chairs, tables, and sturdy looking patrons to get to a nice looking sunlight windowsill.

Perhaps this is a good place to nap.

[OOC: smol pre-trauma Amascut here, but not in the mood for petting. Beware the deceptively fluffy kitty!]

Comments

[exiled_heir_of_the_eighth]

It's been a while since Sahaal's been able to relax in the Bar. Life back home hasn't been particularly easy, as of late.

But, here he is, sat by the window at the end of the long wooden countertop, nursing a large goblet of hypervodka and staring out the window at the early autumn afternoon. Peaceful, even through the tinted glass of his goggles.

At least, it is until a cat uses his head as a launch platforms. He whirls around, spilling some of his alcohol on the rich wood, just in time to see it settle onto the sun-dappeled windowsill next to him.

Carefully, he reaches a pale hand across to the housepet, checking for a collar because that's what you're apparently supposed to do. Maybe it's a transmogrified patron. Maybe it's got an owner he can get to pay for his spilt drink.

[death_gone_mad]

The cat takes a moment to sniff at the alcohol before she feels the hand coming toward her. Her tail bristles before she turns around to face the hand and sits on her haunches, wagging her tail.

As young as she looks, she acts like a much older cat who knows how to deal with giants. She brings up a paw to stop the hand. No claws, as there is no reason for escalating things. It ... probably looks ridiculous and cute.

[exiled_heir_of_the_eighth]

The Night Lord pulls his hand back. Slightly. Cautiously, he cocks his head, staring into the feline's unnaturally red eyes.

Ridiculous is a stretch. Given everything Sahaal's seen in Milliways, he knows appearances, especially small, furry ones, are usually deceiving. But cute? Yes.

If one of the Legiones Astartes ever stooped to use such a word.

"What are you, little one?"

[death_gone_mad]

The kitten's tail twitches for a bit before the kitten answers in a choir of voices, "a hunter of monsters and judge of the dead."

Being in the shape of a kitten is enough deceit for her today, apparently. Her tail lays still while she waits for his reaction to the noises she just made.

[exiled_heir_of_the_eighth]

"Judge of the dead..."

Sahaal trails off, thinking, remembering.

"Sarah. That's the name you use, isn't it? When you're not pretending to be someone's pet."

It's been almost eighteen months, but even so. You don't forget the first time you talked to a god, even if you're a legionary.

[death_gone_mad]

The kitten stares.

"Sarah?" Just the tip of her tail wags about. "That's a pretty name, but it sounds foreign. I'll allow it."

"Who are you, drinker of strong spirits?"

[exiled_heir_of_the_eighth]

"Fair enough." Not a denial, or an admission. The Night Lord's not that willing to press the matter, though.

"I'm Sahaal. Captain Zso Sahaal."

He sips some of his drink, letting the alcohol burn on his tongue.

"And this isn't that strong."

[angry_friendship_wolf]

Okay. On the one hand, Yamato is meant to be tough and gruff and stuff. It's his thing. He's gotta do his thing.

On the other hand, look at the little kitty look at its little face.

He doesn't want to crowd it, so he gets close slowly, like a dog inching closer to something it wants to play with but is also a little bit wary of.

[death_gone_mad]

The kitty senses the cautious approach and calmly turns around to face the human, sits on her haunches, and gives him a look that is pure refined gruff and tough. And stuff.

Except it's coming from a kitten's face. It is likely ineffective. Her eyes and ears do show he has her attention, at least.

[angry_friendship_wolf]

Ah, a fellow gruffster. A kindred spirit.

Yamato peers at the kitten for a moment, then hunches down a bit so that their faces are level, and slooowly reaches over to maybe scritch her behind the ear, assuming she doesn't move away or scratch at his hand.

[death_gone_mad]

The kitten begins tracking the hand immediately and her tail begins thumping the window sill. When the hand gets close enough, a paw comes up to meet it and give it a gentle nope.

No claws yet; there is no reason to escalate things.

Come on! Where has that gruff and tough stuff gone? Has the biological urge to protect baby devoured it whole?

[angry_friendship_wolf]

But kitten. Yamato can't be gruff at a kitten.

He cracks a quick smile at that nope paw, holding up both his hands in an 'okay, no petting' gesture.

"I'm Yamato," he says. "Nice to meet you, kitty."

[death_gone_mad]

She lays her paw back down and her tail is still.

"Yamato," echos back a chorus of voices. "That sounds like a name fom the far eastern lands." The tip of her tail starts wagging while she waits for his reaction.

[angry_friendship_wolf]

Alright, that the cat can talk is a little surprising, as is the ... chorus-y ... quality of that voice.

Yamato's world is weird enough that he can roll with it.

"Far eastern lands would be right," he says wryly. "Odaiba, in Japan."

[death_gone_mad]

"I have never heard of Odaiba or Japan," she says, "is they part of some archipelago? I know the names of the archipelagos better than the names of the cities and islands."

She thinks of all the strange fish traders have brought into Ullek and licks her lips. One of these days she will go island hopping into the eastern lands. Some day.

[angry_friendship_wolf]

"We're probably from different worlds," Yamato says, waving a hand. "Because Japan is the name of the archipelago. If you haven't heard of it, then chances are either we're not from the same world, or you're from really far in my future or past."

[death_gone_mad]

"Probably" the chorus sings. "Do the people of Japan like sailing and fishing?"

[angry_friendship_wolf]

"Probably about as much as any island nation," Yamato says. "So. Yes. A lot."