cutting_edgex23 | (no subject)

(no subject)

It's mid-afternoon when X opens the front door to her apartment and lets Stitch wander through.

The light through the stained-glass wisteria gives the bedroom a soft purple glow, and the rest of the light --

Well.

Apparently kittens like that sort of thing.

(They will probably not continue sleeping for very long.)

X takes advantage of their relative stillness to move toward the freezer and her stockpile of fish food.

It is no coincidence that there is a squirt bottle on the coffee table.

No coincidence at all.

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Stitch's enters in a signature pattering of footsteps; ears pricked forwards, head tilted back, nose working furiously. He has encountered the aroma of X's apartment before, though never firsthand as it were. And never all at once. He peers about curiously, matching sights to the bouquet as it were. The sleeping kittens are the recipients of a headtilt, large black eyes watching them with interest.

Edited 2009-10-20 02:48 (UTC)

They don't wake up for a few moments, at least until X opens up the fish tank and starts dropping in fish flakes and bloodworms.

Then they move like tiny little rockets.

Oh dear.

Stitch blinks, eyes widening. Moving kittens are vastly more interesting than sleeping ones. The alien watches in mute fascination as the two tiny felines hone in on the fishtank. Because he's helpful like that.

One of them has already managed to scale the tank stand before X gets to the squirt bottle.

Her aim is unerring, and the kittens retreat to the corner to lick their wounds.

And plot their revenge.

Then X replaces the tank cover and puts the fish food back in the freezer.

While she's thus occupied, at least one of the kittens decides that Stitch is an acceptable substitute toy.

Uh oh.

Stitch does not flinch as the squirt bottle is brought to bear. Shut up.

In any event it is quickly eclipsed by a bout of extraterrestrial snickering. Few things are as amusing as rumpled feline dignity.

The kitten approaches at a stalk, low and to the left. One step. Two steps. And then, in a sudden burst of speed, charges toward the odd creature that has appeared in its newly claimed domain before swerving away at the last minute to arch its back fixing the new arrival with the goggle-eyed stare of all kittens the multiverse over.

Edited 2009-10-20 03:41 (UTC)

X, whose keen sense for approaching trouble has been honed by calling Stitch a friend (and cousin) for quite some time, scruffs the kitten, then picks it up so it can climb on her shoulder.

Even the prick of tiny claws does not phase her.

She is immune.

"Heh, gatuki sorqueesta," Notes Stitch, grinning at the kitten. "Iki bobo."

Which is of course when the second kitten errupts from its hiding place under the couch and affixes itself to the back of his head.

X squirts the offending kitten with the bottle -- attempting to not hit Stitch in the process, then reaches down to extricate Thing 2 from the back of Stitch's head.

This may take a little while.

So it goes.

"Do not move, Stitch."

You will not like what happens if you move.

Moving would, indeed, be a very unwise thing to do.

"OGATA!" exclaims Stitch, arms windmilling frantically. "Ah-chooga moopa!"

"That is not helping," X says, a little distracted.

The kitten on her shoulder takes advantage of this inattention to start tangling its paws in her hair.

X, meanwhile, is bent over Stitch, fingers working tiny claws out of heavy blue fur.

"There."

And now she has two cats.

And her hair is a mess.

X does not find the latter part relevant.

Stitch turns, a hand going up to pat at the back of his head as he regards the two tiny cats with wide eyes. They respond in kind, fixing him with a pair of astonished gazes. The staring contest ends when the newly captured kitten begins to fidget. And then begins an attempt to devour the part of X's hand that is in reach.

"Mew," opines the first kitten. Stitch looks fromm one to the other. And then up at X's head.

"Wow."

Edited 2009-10-22 14:48 (UTC)

X just offers up a shrug, one-shouldered and quick. It almost dislodges the second kitten, but not quite.

"They are very small," X says, as if that is any sort of useful explanation.

Maybe it is.

"Emba-chua." They are, indeed.

Beat.

"Lemme see?" The request is accompanied by requisite grabby hand motions.

One of the kittens frees itself from X's hair and launches an attack on Stitch.

X waits for that issue to resolve itself before handing over the second kitten.

Go figure.

The kitten manages to secure purchase on the intended target. For a brief moment of absolute silence during which time alien and kitten stand (or in the case of the latter; cling) frozen as this new development fully sinks in. It looks something like this.

Stitch carefully wraps both hands around the kitten's middle and pulls.

There is yet another pause as this strategy is quickly reassesed. Sigh. Eventually the kitten is removed and held at arm's length for inspection.

Edited 2009-10-23 03:17 (UTC)

"I do not know if that is comfortable," is what X says after several long moments of silence.

"For the kitten."

In case that is relevant.

Blink.

"Oh, okay."

And after a moment of consideration, the kitten is readjusted. The fact that it's not trying to escape is probably a good sign, right?

Edited 2009-10-23 03:30 (UTC)

"You have not seen cats before?"

This is entirely possible.

"When they are not on television."

Well, somewhat possible.

X gets a look.

"In Milliways." And at home if only fleetingly. And from a distance. Most animals tend to give him a wide berth.

"They chase mice," he adds in stilted tones after a moment. This may have been gleaned from television. Shhhh.

"There are no mice. In the apartment."

It is unfortunate for the cats.

"It is okay."

Stitch takes a moment to scent the air. Not because he disbelives X, but now that she's brought it to his attention.

"Naga."

There are some interesting odors eminating from behind the closed door of that fridge in the kitchen though.

Edited 2009-10-25 03:39 (UTC)

"I can make dinner," X offers, after several long minutes of silence.

Several long, long minutes.

The kittens appear to take notice of this and struggle to be put down.

Dinner time means they get fed, too! Right?

"Okie daka." If she insists! The pause goes unnoticed.

"Mew!" And the kitten is released. Contact with the floor does nothing to lower the volume as it winds around X's anckles.

X bends down to deposit the second kitten next to the first, then heads for the kitchen.

The most important thing right now is to wash her hands.

Then she can make food.

Lots of food. Because it is Stitch.

He'll help (in a manner of speaking)! He might even help clean up the resulting carnage. If she makes a point of asking.

Stitch casts the mewling kittens another bemused glance before scuttling after X. Kittens are new and interesting things but he has his priorities in order.

During the course of meal preparation, Stitch will likely find himself scruffed at least five times.

It lessens the mess factor by a large margin.

And yet --

At least nothing looks like it will start leaking through the floorboards?

There is that. And, eventually, there is dinner too. As usual the actual dining passes in relative silence.

Perhaps they'll watch a movie before the evening is over and if not, watching kittens groom grated cheese out of their fur will prove to be almost as entertaining.

Edited 2009-10-25 22:32 (UTC)

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