entrancelogs | (no subject)

Who: Cy [

sparkplugs] and YOU. All of the yous.
Where: The library, dining room, and the grounds.
When: October 14th
Rating: Probably PG at most.
Summary: Cy wrecks stuff, eats, and makes magic birds. Action spam or prose is fine.
The Story:

The Library:

Cy began her morning in the library. She'd never taken much interest in books. At least not the words. What cat would? What she did like was the sound the paper made. It crinkled pleasantly under her feet, and the noise it made when she tore it with her teeth was delightful. Not to mention the fun that could be had playing with the scraps of paper her vandalism produced. It was also something she'd discovered tasted quite good though it was a struggle to swallow.

At various times she could be found enthusiastically destroying books, playing in a shower of paper she knocked around the room, or nesting in a pile of shredded paper in the corner. At other times she was nowhere to be found, though the evidence of her presence was scattered everywhere. She hid herself in amongst the shelves, waiting for someone to come and discover her perfect hiding place. Not that she was especially subtle. If she could stay still long enough the scrabbling of her claws wouldn't be heard, then a tail or paw peeking out gave her game away.

The Dining Room:

All her adventures in the library had managed to make her work up quite the appetite. Paper was nice and all , but it didn't do much to fill her. Hungry, Cy made a beeline for the dining room where she wished herself some nice fish. She ate this underneath the shelter of a table near the door, then waited for other unwary diners to come near enough she could pounce on their feet.

"My fish!"

The Gardens:

As the evening set in, Cy crept out into the gardens, stopping just in front of the fountain. At first she glanced around to see if anyone was looking, but finding herself alone she soon dropped her defences, no longer paying any mind to anyone around her.

She opened up her mouth, motes of light drifting out, standing out against the slowly darkening sky. It's not just light that pours out of her mouth, though. There are birds too. Tiny and unrecognisable in species, but bright and varied in colour. They flutter around Cy's head as she sits and even more emerge from her mouth.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

She does like being held, but after nearly being dropped it's a relief to get her paws back onto something solid. She flops onto her front, looking up at him.

"It was," she tells him brightly. "Do you like it?"

Even the ever-logical Armin can fall victim to the heart-melting cuteness of a tiny kitten; he can't possibly be mad at her. She even talks like a small child would, doubling the adorable effect.

"It's very nice," he lies, but with a kind voice and expression, "but you shouldn't tear up books. They have important words on them that people like to read. However, I'd be happy to get you some blank paper to tear up if you want."

She can tell he's lying, which saddens her. She thought her mess very nice. Some she'd scattered at random, but others she'd spent a long time arranging to make sure they were in place properly.

"I can use other paper," she agrees, though she's fond of the paper she's been using already. Plain paper just isn't as nice, but she supposes she can make do with it so long as she still has something to work with.

Sorry Cy, he just doesn't have a proper feline aesthetic.

"Alright, just a second."

Armin leaves to grab some paper from a nearby printer. It probably isn't as satisfyingly crinkly as paper in a book, but it will have to do. He bunches a sheet up in a ball and gently tosses it across the table, knowing that cats usually like a good game of chase.

Cy brightens as he throws the ball of paper, skittering across the table to grab at it. Once she has it firmly in her paws she rolls onto her back, bunny kicking it into submission. Once she's convinced she's won she rolls back onto her side, letting the paper fall onto the floor.

"That was fun! Do it again."

Despite being able to talk, this kitten is still certainly a cat. Armin crumples up another piece of paper and throws it again, with just the right arc so Cy can see it sail over her head.

Cy rears up to try and intercept it as it flies over her, but overbalances, finding herself flat on her back instead! She squawks indignantly, scrambling back onto her feet and proceeding to pretend that didn't just happen.

She walks slowly over to the edge of the table where it landed, then lies carefully down to chew noisily on the ball.

Armin can't help but laugh at her antics.

"You okay, kitty?" he walks up to pet her, stroking her from her head to her back. She's a little bit grubby, but it doesn't deter him, "don't eat that, it's not good for you."

The conflicting feelings of the petting and the unwanted advise leaves her unsure what to do, and the result is a confused mix of purring and grumbling. Even Cy isn't sure which one it's supposed to sound more like.

"It's nice," she insists, tearing off a strip of paper from the ball he'd tossed her and dropping it in front of him. She looks at him expectantly. "Try some!"

...Okay, you're adorable, but he's not eating paper for you. Although this situation would be a lot worse if she had offered him something like a dead mouse or bird.

"I really don't think that's a good idea, cats and humans aren't meant to eat that sort of thing. We can't digest it, and we'll get sick!"

Also it tastes like... paper...

Luckily for Armin Cy's no good at catching anything that's still alive, so he probably doesn't have to be worried about being offered dead prey any time soon.

"I never get sick," she protested, swallowing down another bite of paper to prove her point. "I eat it all the time."

"Really?"

Well, it is a talking cat. It might be magical-- no, of course it's magical. He may have stumbled across another member of the Mansion's cast, as far as he knows...

"I mean, that's good that you aren't sick, but I still wouldn't continue."

If cats could roll there eyes then that's what Cy would have been doing. She drops the paper nonetheless, though she does give it another longing look. It had tasted good.

"You don't know what you're missing, but I do," she complains, though she has no plans to stop eating paper when he isn't around to tell her not to.

"Well, you're a very good kitty for listening anyways."

He gives her a nice skcritch behind the ears.

"Do you have a name? And where did you come from?"

She forgets her sulk almost immediately, purring loudly at both the praise and the scritches. She tilts her head, allowing him better access to the spot where it feels perfect.

"I am good!" she agrees cheerfully. "My name's Cy. I'm the one who mimsies the borogoves. Who're you?"

Truthfully, she wasn't sure where she came from. She didn't like to think of the first place she'd known, nor did she fully comprehend different worlds in a way she knew how to explain.

"...Mimsies the borogoves?"

Well scloop his velunker, he has no idea what that means. But hey, Cy! It has a name. We're making progress!

"I'm Armin. I come from a place where everyone lives inside of big walls, but we're going to fix that soon. It's nice to meet you, Cy."

"I thought humans liked big walls," she says, puzzled. The humans where she came from did, and so do the ones here. "I think they're nice. They keep you warm and dry."

"Oh, no, you're thinking of houses. Houses are nice, I agree. Um..."

Ah well, it's not really worth explaining to a little kitten. Let her enjoy being unaware of a scary world full of big monsters.

"Never mind. Is anyone taking care of you, Cy?"