http://maten-rou.livejournal.com/ (![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
maten-rou.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
tampered2007-03-17 02:19 am
maten-rou.livejournal.com) wrote in tampered2007-03-17 02:19 am
Log, complete
When; March 14th, Seme-Uke switch day
Rating; PG-13
Characters; Francis [![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
flehming] & Jyabura [maten_rou]
Summary; Seme!Francis meets Uke!Jyab and utter, utter cracklog ensues
Log;
The longer Francis wandered around in this strange city, the more it felt like a wicked dream; like one of those visions he sometimes used to have while investigating a case of crime. Strange people silently passed by, their faces only a mere whirl of shadows and speckled view from felidae's-eye view. They didn't seem to notice the black cat straying around in the middle of the pavement, but neither did he encounter a unwelcome rendezvous with foreign feet, so he assumed they registered him, at least as a passenger to evade.
Even if he excluded the city itself, a place weird enough to obtain some seperate sections in his brain, there was another thing that he couldn't quite associate. And he wasn't pondering about the loss of memory this city apparently had brought to him; rather he focussed on the urge that secretly had been rising in him since his arrival earlier.
What's this?, he asked himself silently. Though he insisted on finding out what this intensifying feeling was trying him to tell, his inner voice remained silent. This however only made his curious-o-meter practically shoot through the roof. His brain was practically snowed under with those questions unanswered.
Maybe it's time for the good old instincts again, he wondered. A few seconds of thinking were enough, then he decided to follow this inner urge, that'd be the most handy way to discover its will. And he let himself go.
After a short time of thoughtless walking, he gathered himself again.
Now c'mon, he ordered the urge with a strict inner voice, take over the control. Do whatever you want. I'm not interfering in any ways, fucker. Without changing his tempo, he did a small jump and climbed a wall. You can do almost everything now. I mean, not literally everything, like suddenly jumping around and attempting to kill people furiously. That'd suck. Totally suck. Passing the brick wall with sleek motions, he did another jump and clambered a ledge. Won't you take over? C'mon now, bitch. This chance will pass and you'll bite your ass if that happens. I'm strongly urging you, urge. If I could just grab into my head with a paw, I'd tug you into the control center. Another jump. Are you even listening? Another one. I swear I won't repeat this again. Ever. You little brat get into my goddamn brain or fade from my mind. Another one. I'll ignore you forever if you don't take this oppurtunity. So? Are you in my brain yet? Another one. No? You're ignoring me, aren't you? Okay, go fuck yourself, I don't care. I didn't give out this oppurtunity for me. Don't try to give me that funny feeling again EVER. Francis dared to look randomly down to the ground. And became nauseous on the spot.
Fuck. Fuck fuck fuckity fuck. The cat backed up from the sudden abyss, less anxious but more pissed at the current situation. That are three stories, he pondered, at least!, and then he lost his footing.
Luckily, a knee-jerk reaction prevented the worst, meaning he landed on his paws just in between two cycads or... something thelike.
The shock fainted from his bones surprisingly fast. Soon he shot slightly curious glances all over the different plants in this room, realising he maybe should watch out for any human beings living in here. Escaping would probably prove wiser than staying around and gratifying his everlasting curiousness. On the other hand, who could say no to a fucking cute cat?, he asked himself while thoughtlessly urinating at a potted straw.
Jyabura wasn't exactly in a bright mood. Arriving from one second to another in a weird, foreign place really wasn't the best reason to get in a good mood. This place didn't seem to be located on the Grandline, well, not even his own world anymore and a bunch of complete strangers knew his name and other details he wanted them rather not to know. Secret agents have to keep things secret, right? That was all bad enough, but if those very suspect people started talking about some countdown to the end of whichever world and curses and bullshit like that, plus a bunch of pirates seemed to have infested the place and made allies already - no. Just... no. It was all a big fucking headache.
Dreaming or not, he had found Kaku and a place to stay, so at least he could awake from this weirdest of all dreams in an acceptable place as he didn't intend to stay here much longer. It was just that he was in a really... weird mood today. He felt weak, and merely thinking of being weak felt really fucked up and wrong. An elite assassin for the Government doesn't feel weak. Period. Not that he's even used to feel that way, but technically he wasn't even allowed to do so. Jyabura had no idea that the current curse had fully hit him already.
Beer. A good cold can of beer could fix that all, maybe. For a short time. So he thought as he fetched one from the fridge with an irritated sigh and turned around to preferably lay down on the couch and do absolutely nothing, when the sight of a pissing cat distracted him quite good. A pissing cat in what now was his living room. Any, really any other day, this fucking cat would have been dead already, nothing more but a red fleshy spot on the wall. But today, the wolf would merely stare in repressed hate and say something along "Uuuuh...?!" in utter confusion.
Oh, yeah, right. What did I just think to myself about human beings...?
The cat's bright eyes glared at this can-opener kind of guy (as he already held a can in his hand) with a piercing look before his leg dropped.
"You know, it's really distracting to be watched while peeing," Francis said with shallow traces of sarcasm. As shallow as that fucking abyss before. Usually he settled on that meowing thing... but something was different today.
I am talking to a human, he thought to himself a bit outraged, I am talking to a fucking human, I am not even allowed to talk to a fucking human, WHAT THE SHIT. Although, or maybe because he just had broken an old law, he didn't feel guilty. Far from it. It felt almost good in a criminal way.
So, again. There was a pissing cat in his living room, watering one of the prettiest plants (wasn't it strange that Kaku's apartment looked nearly like he had chosen the plants himself?) and obviously talking to him. Now, the talking part wasn't that shocking. Being half an animal by himself, he could indeed understand pretty much any other animal language, though this miserable disgusting meowing didn't really count as a proper language. But this cat used human language, far from any ear-insulting cat cries.
Alright. He must have been on a really good trip, dreaming from cities in parallel universes where everyone and anyone knew his name and pissing cats insulted him. He simply proceeded to walk towards the sofa, sit down and carefully put the cold can against his forehead. Man. A dandy fine trip indeed. Hopefully it would be over soon.
Yeah, there you go, Mister Can-Opener.
Francis raised his leg again and started a rerun on that peeing stuff. He exactly knew why he marked this special plant as his territory. It was because... yeah. Because he landed next to it and probably could use some kind of pilotage area if escaping from this flat failed. Or just a place where he could return after ultimatively uncovering the flat's darkest secrets, after solving its most pulchritudinous and delicious riddles. Or... something like that.
Absorbed by such thoughts, he first noticed the ominous reaction to his talking when his leg subsided again. Now he didn't know about other humans, Preterius though had already been crazy, still even his reaction had been not that... accepting.
Speaking obscenely, it didn't just irritate Francis but also stressed him, slightly at least. So he did a few steps into the flat, opened his mouth and claimed:
"Hey, can-opener. In case you didn't already notice it, I was fucking talking to you."
Jyabura looked down at the tiny creature with raised eyebrows and a glare, which was, compared to his usual personality, peacefully and calm. Zen, even. Weirdly enough, he still didn't feel like kicking this stupid cat out. Hell, he didn't feel like defending himself against this whole shit at all. He more felt like...
"Well uh... I was, but... I... I'm sorry...?" he stuttered with confusion and actually felt sorry. For what, he couldn't exactly point out. Something was really wrong. That clearly wasn't himself a bit, but damn. Quickly he searched for an expiring date on the beer can. How many of those did he have already? With an experienced quick move he opened the can and took a deep sip. What.
"Better be," Francis growled.
"Now I'm revealing one fucking huge secret of the whole catkind and you sit there and don't even react. I mean, I'm not saying you should actually kneel down and worship me, but..."
Then he paused, visibly thinking.
"Maybe you should," he uttered thoughtlessly. Albeit he didn't exactly know the reason, he was sure that giving orders would be an awesome way to deal with the current situation.
For the split of a second Jyabura was about to actually kneel down and... worship the piss cat. Now, Jyabura wasn't exactly stupid, he just prefered to think clear and easy ways. Sometimes this was called being rational. So, the first rational thought in his state that came to his mind was as innocent as it was, well, caring. Because right now, his main priority was to please the cat, for whatever exact reason ever. "Um, wouldn't you be happier with... a bowl of milk? Or, fish? Don't you guys like stinking fish?" he asked Francis, in honest interest.
"Stinking? What an impertinence."
Francis gave a piqued look and added cynically:
"It's not like our senses are much superior to human ones."
A small pause followed which was mainly used to brood. Now this guy didn't seem to be too bad. If Francis didn't lose the ground beneath his feet, he actually could this guy make to... obey his orders. Well. How awesome was that.
As for testing his new hypothesis, he didn't shut up but rather spoke out his culinaric interests:
"Liver. Most of us cats really fucking adore liver." In the mute, he asked himself for a second why he always had the urge to swear. But the whole situation was just so... odd, probably he had to relieve himself from all the stress or something.
"My personal favourite is sautéed liver," he then explained, giving this guy a requesting look. For a second, he pondered about speaking out his dominating thought: Now c'mon, get going, bitch.
Surprisingly enough, the wolf caught the cynical hint. "My senses are even superiour to yours. At least one." And God dammit, fish did stink. Very much so. So did the lake of cat piss in the corner, but bitching about it still didn't come to his mind.
"Liver... what?" He didn't understand the second part. He didn't even know how to write this. "Sorry kitty, no liver. But we have onigiri. A lot of it." he added before taking another deep sip of beer. Either he was getting used to the situation or the beer helped a lot with it.
Actually, Francis was trying to doubt the first part aloud. However, he forgot to do so because the second part fully distracted him. What. No sautéed liver? Francis' tail nearly dropped. Fucker.
"Now if you could explain to me what the heck onigiri is."
Didn't sound like too many points at Scrabble, though. Too many i's. He was almost able to hear Gustav mess up the syllables.
"Rice. Balls of rice. Kaku makes them. He makes a lot of them. I can't catch up with eating them" he explained with the not so hidden hint of being slightly fed up with any kind of onigiri already. Well, it didn't matter. Sooner or later, he'd start to hunt in the forests and feed of the animals he'd caught there. He did so since his first arrival in the City, but he couldn't remember. For now it had to be onigiri.
"I don't think you'll like them" he said with a tone of pity in his voice.
Now wasn't that just GREAT. Francis almost sighed in frustration. Test one failed, eh?
"I'm not actually starving anyway," he explained dryly after doing the last few steps and finally taking a seat on the sofa. Time for test two. Maybe I should just cut the level of my demands.
"But I could use some fluid. Water would be great. And you don't happen to have those tiny umbrellas..."
His upper lip raised to reveal the quirky imitation of a human grin. Get going, chop chop!
After some lithesome movement, he was stretched out on his cushioned place, not quite unsuspecting but rather overly self-concious in noticing any approaches and defending himself at this moment. Hence he gave indeed a relaxed look.
In a very dog-like manner the man tilted his head to the side and gave his oh so lovely guest a confused look. How do drinks and umbrellas go along? Well, whatever. He shrugged, indeed got up and fetched the cat a tiny bowl with water, feeling even warm and fuzzy inside to have pleased the furball. And, oddly enough, he didn't mind. What he was doing now would even be a no-go to fellow humans, except maybe for a possible girlfriend. There was no need to start even thinking about how wrong this was towards a cat who commanded him around after flodding his apartment with litres of disgusting catpiss.
"There you go um... kitty" he said in a stunningly stupid matter. Even if he didn't notice it anymore, his behaviour would indeed seem weird and unnatural towards others.
"Francis," the cat answered. "I outgrew that kitty stuff a certain while ago."
Calmly, he got on his paws again, just to scrunch down before that bowl and dip his tongue inside. The stupidity of that can-opener didn't actually amaze Francis. After years of living together with Gustav, maybe that wasn't all too surprising.
"No umbrella," he then noticed slightly disgruntled after looking over the tiny bowl's edge. It had started out as a mere joke, but now the thought... no, that was silly. He couldn't get pissed because a small umbrella was missing!
Okay, so Francis-Kitty really wanted some umbrella? Well damn, this kitty is going to have some umbrella, no matter how idiotic this request seemed to someone who practically ran on alcohol, but had no idea of decoratings of a drink. Jyabura put his can of beer on the table, went up to the corridor with joyful enthusiasm and returned with, well, an umbrella. One of the big ones. He opened it triumphal and watched his guest with the same satisfaction as a dog who fetched his master the slippers or the newspapers. "Umbrella!"
Francis glared upwards. He opened his mouth, but all those inner words were shouted at: "THOU SHALT NOT PASS!"
Then he closed his mouth again. Stupidity superior to Gustav's. He finally found it.
A rush of adrenaline suddenly floated his veins.
"MORON!" He shouted and jumped into the can-opener's face, violently clinging anything his claws found. Which mostly consisted in hair.
The wolf-man was merely surprised about his failed try of pleasing his guest. What? He got his umbrella, didn't he? As for the attack, well, Jyabura was used to fight with a bigger and meaner cat all his life long. Out of a routined reflex he pluck the raging ball of fur out of his face, seemingly not even caring about the inflicted pain. Now now, a shonen manga villain was used to worse stuff. Using tekkai on his arms, a technique that hardened his body like iron, he held Francis under his kitty-armpits with a hard enough clench and looked at him with true disappointment. "It's the color, right?" he asked with a bad conscience.
Mainly resorting to hackled up hissing, the black cat struggled in the firm grip, sometimes clawing the skin of the stupid can-opener, sometimes just punching the air with his paws. After half a minute of that wordless pseudo-fight, Francis slowly became calm again. Relieving of stress and all that, huh. No wonder, he'd had better days.
"It's," he started, his voice a little raspy, "it's..."
Breathe in, breathe out. With a glance, Francis noticed his attacks didn't even leave barely a scratch. Also, the arms didn't seem to tremble, instead they just remained stiff. Now that was...
"Let go of me!"
As if to enforce his words, he punched into the air again.
"It's the fucking size. It's... the size."
Like size would matter. The man shrugged and put the hot-tempered cat right in front of him on the floor and placed himself on the couch again, eager to continue his quest of drinking beer. Hey, he tried his best with the umbrella and all. "I don't have any other umbrellas. And still no liver" he added almost melancholy. "Guess a wolf's den ain't the right place for folk like you."
Wolf's den? Wait a minute. That's... no, that's probably just a name. But that guy seemed to feel really blue about having not the right umbrella. I told you, Francis stated to himself, it was just silly. Actual compassion slowly sprouted, feeding on the shallow traces of outragedness. Calm again?
"Hey." He raised the paw, though instead of saying "Hay what's going on", he just voiced a simple "Meow."
A moment of silence before he jumped onto the sofa again. All that stress, all that confusion had started to make him feel a bit tired. Still, he was obsessed with the picture of getting what he wanted. But now he wouldn't need words for that. Sometimes a cat's way was just right.
He rubbed his fluffy, black cheek against that can-opener's forearm. Now c'mon. Can-openers rarely could say no to such an oppurtunity.
If Francis just had any idea what that kind of stuff would have caused Jyabura to do on any other day, the mere thought of it would haunt him for the rest of his kitty life. Actually, Jyabura didn't really mind cuddling. In fact he loved it. He loved it a bit too much for someone who was supposed to and indeed did kill people with his hands, and if those people had deserved death was an entirely different question. He loved cuddling Nell (though he couldn't remember anymore), he loved cuddling Kaku and he did and would love to cuddle Francis too. He'd just had a massive problem of admiting that, and not because of his rep as an assassin, but more of his rep as being a passionate cat-hater.
With unexpected wariness he started stroking the cat's fur and it was one of the rare things on this day that weren't fake. Still, that cat better be gone by midnight when the curse was over and someone had to deal with the catpiss.
Rating; PG-13
Characters; Francis [
flehming] & Jyabura [maten_rou]Summary; Seme!Francis meets Uke!Jyab and utter, utter cracklog ensues
Log;
The longer Francis wandered around in this strange city, the more it felt like a wicked dream; like one of those visions he sometimes used to have while investigating a case of crime. Strange people silently passed by, their faces only a mere whirl of shadows and speckled view from felidae's-eye view. They didn't seem to notice the black cat straying around in the middle of the pavement, but neither did he encounter a unwelcome rendezvous with foreign feet, so he assumed they registered him, at least as a passenger to evade.
Even if he excluded the city itself, a place weird enough to obtain some seperate sections in his brain, there was another thing that he couldn't quite associate. And he wasn't pondering about the loss of memory this city apparently had brought to him; rather he focussed on the urge that secretly had been rising in him since his arrival earlier.
What's this?, he asked himself silently. Though he insisted on finding out what this intensifying feeling was trying him to tell, his inner voice remained silent. This however only made his curious-o-meter practically shoot through the roof. His brain was practically snowed under with those questions unanswered.
Maybe it's time for the good old instincts again, he wondered. A few seconds of thinking were enough, then he decided to follow this inner urge, that'd be the most handy way to discover its will. And he let himself go.
After a short time of thoughtless walking, he gathered himself again.
Now c'mon, he ordered the urge with a strict inner voice, take over the control. Do whatever you want. I'm not interfering in any ways, fucker. Without changing his tempo, he did a small jump and climbed a wall. You can do almost everything now. I mean, not literally everything, like suddenly jumping around and attempting to kill people furiously. That'd suck. Totally suck. Passing the brick wall with sleek motions, he did another jump and clambered a ledge. Won't you take over? C'mon now, bitch. This chance will pass and you'll bite your ass if that happens. I'm strongly urging you, urge. If I could just grab into my head with a paw, I'd tug you into the control center. Another jump. Are you even listening? Another one. I swear I won't repeat this again. Ever. You little brat get into my goddamn brain or fade from my mind. Another one. I'll ignore you forever if you don't take this oppurtunity. So? Are you in my brain yet? Another one. No? You're ignoring me, aren't you? Okay, go fuck yourself, I don't care. I didn't give out this oppurtunity for me. Don't try to give me that funny feeling again EVER. Francis dared to look randomly down to the ground. And became nauseous on the spot.
Fuck. Fuck fuck fuckity fuck. The cat backed up from the sudden abyss, less anxious but more pissed at the current situation. That are three stories, he pondered, at least!, and then he lost his footing.
Luckily, a knee-jerk reaction prevented the worst, meaning he landed on his paws just in between two cycads or... something thelike.
The shock fainted from his bones surprisingly fast. Soon he shot slightly curious glances all over the different plants in this room, realising he maybe should watch out for any human beings living in here. Escaping would probably prove wiser than staying around and gratifying his everlasting curiousness. On the other hand, who could say no to a fucking cute cat?, he asked himself while thoughtlessly urinating at a potted straw.
Jyabura wasn't exactly in a bright mood. Arriving from one second to another in a weird, foreign place really wasn't the best reason to get in a good mood. This place didn't seem to be located on the Grandline, well, not even his own world anymore and a bunch of complete strangers knew his name and other details he wanted them rather not to know. Secret agents have to keep things secret, right? That was all bad enough, but if those very suspect people started talking about some countdown to the end of whichever world and curses and bullshit like that, plus a bunch of pirates seemed to have infested the place and made allies already - no. Just... no. It was all a big fucking headache.
Dreaming or not, he had found Kaku and a place to stay, so at least he could awake from this weirdest of all dreams in an acceptable place as he didn't intend to stay here much longer. It was just that he was in a really... weird mood today. He felt weak, and merely thinking of being weak felt really fucked up and wrong. An elite assassin for the Government doesn't feel weak. Period. Not that he's even used to feel that way, but technically he wasn't even allowed to do so. Jyabura had no idea that the current curse had fully hit him already.
Beer. A good cold can of beer could fix that all, maybe. For a short time. So he thought as he fetched one from the fridge with an irritated sigh and turned around to preferably lay down on the couch and do absolutely nothing, when the sight of a pissing cat distracted him quite good. A pissing cat in what now was his living room. Any, really any other day, this fucking cat would have been dead already, nothing more but a red fleshy spot on the wall. But today, the wolf would merely stare in repressed hate and say something along "Uuuuh...?!" in utter confusion.
Oh, yeah, right. What did I just think to myself about human beings...?
The cat's bright eyes glared at this can-opener kind of guy (as he already held a can in his hand) with a piercing look before his leg dropped.
"You know, it's really distracting to be watched while peeing," Francis said with shallow traces of sarcasm. As shallow as that fucking abyss before. Usually he settled on that meowing thing... but something was different today.
I am talking to a human, he thought to himself a bit outraged, I am talking to a fucking human, I am not even allowed to talk to a fucking human, WHAT THE SHIT. Although, or maybe because he just had broken an old law, he didn't feel guilty. Far from it. It felt almost good in a criminal way.
So, again. There was a pissing cat in his living room, watering one of the prettiest plants (wasn't it strange that Kaku's apartment looked nearly like he had chosen the plants himself?) and obviously talking to him. Now, the talking part wasn't that shocking. Being half an animal by himself, he could indeed understand pretty much any other animal language, though this miserable disgusting meowing didn't really count as a proper language. But this cat used human language, far from any ear-insulting cat cries.
Alright. He must have been on a really good trip, dreaming from cities in parallel universes where everyone and anyone knew his name and pissing cats insulted him. He simply proceeded to walk towards the sofa, sit down and carefully put the cold can against his forehead. Man. A dandy fine trip indeed. Hopefully it would be over soon.
Yeah, there you go, Mister Can-Opener.
Francis raised his leg again and started a rerun on that peeing stuff. He exactly knew why he marked this special plant as his territory. It was because... yeah. Because he landed next to it and probably could use some kind of pilotage area if escaping from this flat failed. Or just a place where he could return after ultimatively uncovering the flat's darkest secrets, after solving its most pulchritudinous and delicious riddles. Or... something like that.
Absorbed by such thoughts, he first noticed the ominous reaction to his talking when his leg subsided again. Now he didn't know about other humans, Preterius though had already been crazy, still even his reaction had been not that... accepting.
Speaking obscenely, it didn't just irritate Francis but also stressed him, slightly at least. So he did a few steps into the flat, opened his mouth and claimed:
"Hey, can-opener. In case you didn't already notice it, I was fucking talking to you."
Jyabura looked down at the tiny creature with raised eyebrows and a glare, which was, compared to his usual personality, peacefully and calm. Zen, even. Weirdly enough, he still didn't feel like kicking this stupid cat out. Hell, he didn't feel like defending himself against this whole shit at all. He more felt like...
"Well uh... I was, but... I... I'm sorry...?" he stuttered with confusion and actually felt sorry. For what, he couldn't exactly point out. Something was really wrong. That clearly wasn't himself a bit, but damn. Quickly he searched for an expiring date on the beer can. How many of those did he have already? With an experienced quick move he opened the can and took a deep sip. What.
"Better be," Francis growled.
"Now I'm revealing one fucking huge secret of the whole catkind and you sit there and don't even react. I mean, I'm not saying you should actually kneel down and worship me, but..."
Then he paused, visibly thinking.
"Maybe you should," he uttered thoughtlessly. Albeit he didn't exactly know the reason, he was sure that giving orders would be an awesome way to deal with the current situation.
For the split of a second Jyabura was about to actually kneel down and... worship the piss cat. Now, Jyabura wasn't exactly stupid, he just prefered to think clear and easy ways. Sometimes this was called being rational. So, the first rational thought in his state that came to his mind was as innocent as it was, well, caring. Because right now, his main priority was to please the cat, for whatever exact reason ever. "Um, wouldn't you be happier with... a bowl of milk? Or, fish? Don't you guys like stinking fish?" he asked Francis, in honest interest.
"Stinking? What an impertinence."
Francis gave a piqued look and added cynically:
"It's not like our senses are much superior to human ones."
A small pause followed which was mainly used to brood. Now this guy didn't seem to be too bad. If Francis didn't lose the ground beneath his feet, he actually could this guy make to... obey his orders. Well. How awesome was that.
As for testing his new hypothesis, he didn't shut up but rather spoke out his culinaric interests:
"Liver. Most of us cats really fucking adore liver." In the mute, he asked himself for a second why he always had the urge to swear. But the whole situation was just so... odd, probably he had to relieve himself from all the stress or something.
"My personal favourite is sautéed liver," he then explained, giving this guy a requesting look. For a second, he pondered about speaking out his dominating thought: Now c'mon, get going, bitch.
Surprisingly enough, the wolf caught the cynical hint. "My senses are even superiour to yours. At least one." And God dammit, fish did stink. Very much so. So did the lake of cat piss in the corner, but bitching about it still didn't come to his mind.
"Liver... what?" He didn't understand the second part. He didn't even know how to write this. "Sorry kitty, no liver. But we have onigiri. A lot of it." he added before taking another deep sip of beer. Either he was getting used to the situation or the beer helped a lot with it.
Actually, Francis was trying to doubt the first part aloud. However, he forgot to do so because the second part fully distracted him. What. No sautéed liver? Francis' tail nearly dropped. Fucker.
"Now if you could explain to me what the heck onigiri is."
Didn't sound like too many points at Scrabble, though. Too many i's. He was almost able to hear Gustav mess up the syllables.
"Rice. Balls of rice. Kaku makes them. He makes a lot of them. I can't catch up with eating them" he explained with the not so hidden hint of being slightly fed up with any kind of onigiri already. Well, it didn't matter. Sooner or later, he'd start to hunt in the forests and feed of the animals he'd caught there. He did so since his first arrival in the City, but he couldn't remember. For now it had to be onigiri.
"I don't think you'll like them" he said with a tone of pity in his voice.
Now wasn't that just GREAT. Francis almost sighed in frustration. Test one failed, eh?
"I'm not actually starving anyway," he explained dryly after doing the last few steps and finally taking a seat on the sofa. Time for test two. Maybe I should just cut the level of my demands.
"But I could use some fluid. Water would be great. And you don't happen to have those tiny umbrellas..."
His upper lip raised to reveal the quirky imitation of a human grin. Get going, chop chop!
After some lithesome movement, he was stretched out on his cushioned place, not quite unsuspecting but rather overly self-concious in noticing any approaches and defending himself at this moment. Hence he gave indeed a relaxed look.
In a very dog-like manner the man tilted his head to the side and gave his oh so lovely guest a confused look. How do drinks and umbrellas go along? Well, whatever. He shrugged, indeed got up and fetched the cat a tiny bowl with water, feeling even warm and fuzzy inside to have pleased the furball. And, oddly enough, he didn't mind. What he was doing now would even be a no-go to fellow humans, except maybe for a possible girlfriend. There was no need to start even thinking about how wrong this was towards a cat who commanded him around after flodding his apartment with litres of disgusting catpiss.
"There you go um... kitty" he said in a stunningly stupid matter. Even if he didn't notice it anymore, his behaviour would indeed seem weird and unnatural towards others.
"Francis," the cat answered. "I outgrew that kitty stuff a certain while ago."
Calmly, he got on his paws again, just to scrunch down before that bowl and dip his tongue inside. The stupidity of that can-opener didn't actually amaze Francis. After years of living together with Gustav, maybe that wasn't all too surprising.
"No umbrella," he then noticed slightly disgruntled after looking over the tiny bowl's edge. It had started out as a mere joke, but now the thought... no, that was silly. He couldn't get pissed because a small umbrella was missing!
Okay, so Francis-Kitty really wanted some umbrella? Well damn, this kitty is going to have some umbrella, no matter how idiotic this request seemed to someone who practically ran on alcohol, but had no idea of decoratings of a drink. Jyabura put his can of beer on the table, went up to the corridor with joyful enthusiasm and returned with, well, an umbrella. One of the big ones. He opened it triumphal and watched his guest with the same satisfaction as a dog who fetched his master the slippers or the newspapers. "Umbrella!"
Francis glared upwards. He opened his mouth, but all those inner words were shouted at: "THOU SHALT NOT PASS!"
Then he closed his mouth again. Stupidity superior to Gustav's. He finally found it.
A rush of adrenaline suddenly floated his veins.
"MORON!" He shouted and jumped into the can-opener's face, violently clinging anything his claws found. Which mostly consisted in hair.
The wolf-man was merely surprised about his failed try of pleasing his guest. What? He got his umbrella, didn't he? As for the attack, well, Jyabura was used to fight with a bigger and meaner cat all his life long. Out of a routined reflex he pluck the raging ball of fur out of his face, seemingly not even caring about the inflicted pain. Now now, a shonen manga villain was used to worse stuff. Using tekkai on his arms, a technique that hardened his body like iron, he held Francis under his kitty-armpits with a hard enough clench and looked at him with true disappointment. "It's the color, right?" he asked with a bad conscience.
Mainly resorting to hackled up hissing, the black cat struggled in the firm grip, sometimes clawing the skin of the stupid can-opener, sometimes just punching the air with his paws. After half a minute of that wordless pseudo-fight, Francis slowly became calm again. Relieving of stress and all that, huh. No wonder, he'd had better days.
"It's," he started, his voice a little raspy, "it's..."
Breathe in, breathe out. With a glance, Francis noticed his attacks didn't even leave barely a scratch. Also, the arms didn't seem to tremble, instead they just remained stiff. Now that was...
"Let go of me!"
As if to enforce his words, he punched into the air again.
"It's the fucking size. It's... the size."
Like size would matter. The man shrugged and put the hot-tempered cat right in front of him on the floor and placed himself on the couch again, eager to continue his quest of drinking beer. Hey, he tried his best with the umbrella and all. "I don't have any other umbrellas. And still no liver" he added almost melancholy. "Guess a wolf's den ain't the right place for folk like you."
Wolf's den? Wait a minute. That's... no, that's probably just a name. But that guy seemed to feel really blue about having not the right umbrella. I told you, Francis stated to himself, it was just silly. Actual compassion slowly sprouted, feeding on the shallow traces of outragedness. Calm again?
"Hey." He raised the paw, though instead of saying "Hay what's going on", he just voiced a simple "Meow."
A moment of silence before he jumped onto the sofa again. All that stress, all that confusion had started to make him feel a bit tired. Still, he was obsessed with the picture of getting what he wanted. But now he wouldn't need words for that. Sometimes a cat's way was just right.
He rubbed his fluffy, black cheek against that can-opener's forearm. Now c'mon. Can-openers rarely could say no to such an oppurtunity.
If Francis just had any idea what that kind of stuff would have caused Jyabura to do on any other day, the mere thought of it would haunt him for the rest of his kitty life. Actually, Jyabura didn't really mind cuddling. In fact he loved it. He loved it a bit too much for someone who was supposed to and indeed did kill people with his hands, and if those people had deserved death was an entirely different question. He loved cuddling Nell (though he couldn't remember anymore), he loved cuddling Kaku and he did and would love to cuddle Francis too. He'd just had a massive problem of admiting that, and not because of his rep as an assassin, but more of his rep as being a passionate cat-hater.
With unexpected wariness he started stroking the cat's fur and it was one of the rare things on this day that weren't fake. Still, that cat better be gone by midnight when the curse was over and someone had to deal with the catpiss.