The Cat sometimes known as Pounce (
absentconstellation) wrote in
isleofavalon2021-09-24 07:58 pm
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Time spent with cats is never wasted.
đź§™ WHO: The Cat and YOU
⚔️️ WHAT: A Cat
đź•’ WHEN: After the Event
🗺️ WHERE: Camelot
⚠️ WARNINGS: None anticipated
Warm in the Sun
The days are getting cooler, but the weather is still pleasant enough that the Cat enjoys spending most of his time out of doors. The architectural style of Camelot is such that there are plenty of fine spots to take a nap, and today he's chosen a decorative stone wall. It's out of the way enough that he doesn't feel crowded by people in the streets, far enough into the main road that it gets sun all day, and tall enough that other animals don't bother him. It's a rather lovely spot.
To passersby he is a perfectly round bun of black fur, turned golden in the sun. Anyone who comes too close will see him open a single purple eye, but otherwise he makes no move. With a bit of courage, you may even be able to pet him.
Begging for Attention
The mood in Camelot has been abysmal since the arrival of the refugees. It isn't only the tragedies that resulted in so many refugees, but the crowding and heightened tempers clashing against each other almost constantly. The Cat doesn't have any close friends that he particularly wants to see to, but he dislikes seeing so many people so unhappy when they were in high spirits just a few days before.
Spotting someone who looks particularly stressed but not particularly busy, he pads after them and meows.
Wildcard
[ Is your character somewhere they could feasibly be approached by a cat with teleportation powers? Congratulations, you've been visited by a purple eyed constellation.
flamingchemist for questions or requests! ]
⚔️️ WHAT: A Cat
đź•’ WHEN: After the Event
🗺️ WHERE: Camelot
⚠️ WARNINGS: None anticipated
Warm in the Sun
The days are getting cooler, but the weather is still pleasant enough that the Cat enjoys spending most of his time out of doors. The architectural style of Camelot is such that there are plenty of fine spots to take a nap, and today he's chosen a decorative stone wall. It's out of the way enough that he doesn't feel crowded by people in the streets, far enough into the main road that it gets sun all day, and tall enough that other animals don't bother him. It's a rather lovely spot.
To passersby he is a perfectly round bun of black fur, turned golden in the sun. Anyone who comes too close will see him open a single purple eye, but otherwise he makes no move. With a bit of courage, you may even be able to pet him.
Begging for Attention
The mood in Camelot has been abysmal since the arrival of the refugees. It isn't only the tragedies that resulted in so many refugees, but the crowding and heightened tempers clashing against each other almost constantly. The Cat doesn't have any close friends that he particularly wants to see to, but he dislikes seeing so many people so unhappy when they were in high spirits just a few days before.
Spotting someone who looks particularly stressed but not particularly busy, he pads after them and meows.
Wildcard
[ Is your character somewhere they could feasibly be approached by a cat with teleportation powers? Congratulations, you've been visited by a purple eyed constellation.
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You may.
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[ He gives his own warm smile, leaning back against the wall comfortably again. He feels the flick of a tail against his shoulder, and gestures with a light wave of his hand to their silent companion. ]
Oh— and this is Carlo~ He can't talk. I mean— I don't think. Maybe. I dunno! Not to me...
[ Alberto has no idea if cats can talk to each other. These are questions he'd like answers to. On top of whether stars are fish and whether the sky is made of water. Yet no questions about how a cat is made of stars. He just... took that one as it was... Odd boy, this Alberto. ]
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Unfortunately I have found that I am unable to communicate with the Beast People of this world.
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Heh— "Beast People." I like that. Humans act like anyone who's not human don't count as "people." It's not right. Beast People, Monster People... People are people. Even if they can't talk. Right, Carlo~?
[ He strokes his familiar affectionately, pressing his ears down with his palm across his head as he pets it. The cat gives another raspy meow, a little happier sounding this time, for those whose ears are tuned to it. Not Alberto's. But he can vibe. ]
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They call themselves The People, but I have found that confuses humans. Most immortals can speak to the People if they wish.
[ Shockingly, the humanoid ones don't usually wish. ]
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[ There's a trill of impressed laughter lacing his voice, a look of sheer delight in his eyes. He's absolutely writing a letter about this interaction as soon as he gets back to the inn! He's been plenty amazed since arriving in this world, but this honestly takes the cake— well, short of gaining magical powers and being spirited away to some interdimensional multiverse. But magical immortal talking star-cats... That's something. ]
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I am a constellation. Immortals can be killed. I cannot.
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[ Hung up on semantics here, but he's fascinated by his new friend Fidel, so he wants to understand the ins and outs of all this magic-immortal-star-cat-constellation stuff. ]
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The word "immortal" is not quite correct, but it is the best that humans can do. They do not fall ill or grow old. Unless they are killed intentionally or by accident, they might live forever.
Constellations, like the Gods, cannot be killed. This body may be destroyed, but I will simply return to the Realms of the Gods. I can make another if I wish.
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[ "Realms of the Gods" sounds quite lofty and above Alberto's comprehension, so as much as he's curious about that line, he... sticks to what he knows... ...He's still under the impression the sky is made of water and full of fish, after all. ]
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[ Sounds like an expert. ]
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[ Just a hunch, a wild stab in the dark… Kids — oy. ]
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[ He's not really supposed to use magic on humans at all, strictly speaking. Humans problems are for human gods, not star cats. ]
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[ Nosy kid. ]
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[ He gives a wry chuckle and weak smirk, but he's endeared by this weird cut-and-dry star-cat. He takes a look at the photograph he took and holds it out to "Fidel" once more, face lighting up ever so slightly. ]
Hey— do you want to keep this?
[ A little hard to follow this kid's train of thought... ]
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He lifts his head to look at the photograph again. ]
I would be honored, but I'm afraid it would quickly be destroyed. I live out and about, and I have no safe place to keep it.
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[ There's just the ghost of disappointment across his face, until a thought strikes him that cocks his brow. ]
Wait... How do you use your Everything Machine, then? Do you, like— hide it somewhere until you need it...?
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This thing! Do you even have one? Or do you just, uh… live… as a normal cat…?
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[ He knows it as a "phone", but that word is totally meaningless to him, so whatever. ]
The little one here keeps track of it.
[ He looks expectantly at the spot his familiar disappeared from, and after a moment she peeks cautiously over the ledge again. After catching Fidel's eye, she ducks down again and returns with a phone that's clearly been kept outdoors and chewed on by a variety of creatures. Apparently she can fly without needing wings. ]
Thank you.
[ The phone begins to float, and the sprite lets go of it to duck into her hiding spot again. The Cat turns back to Alberto. ]
Tree Sprites are terribly shy creatures.
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[ Alberto lets out a little exclamation of surprise, seeing her appear again. He hadn't noticed her before, although Carlo certainly had. Carlo's ears sit back on his head at the sight of her. He's just... cautious. Far more so than his ward.
Alberto smiles at the sight of it all, though, endeared, and hurries with his phone in both hands suddenly, ready to type. ]
What's your username? I'll save it! Mine's "signorvespa!" Do you know what a vespa is? The other best thing humans ever invented, hah~
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I'm not sure what a "username" is either.
[ He did try to ask, when the phone demanded he choose one. Which is how he ended up with the username "username". ]
Nor have I heard of a "vespa".
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