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

I'm a tabby. [Though she is small even by domestic standards, her markings have nothing to do with it.]

You're nicer than most storms.

[ oh dear ;o; she's so cute. he nods, though, accepting that! ]

...I think I may also be warmer than most. [ his voice soft, gentle ] But I assure you that I can be fierce.

Rain may fall gently, only to later become a hurricane.

I know.

[Suddenly she grabs his hand between her front paws, chewing on it minus the force that would be required to hurt.]

I can be fierce too. See?

[ he winces! so fierce!! ]

So I see. [ but the warm amusement is definitely there in his tone. Thor frees a thumb and uses it to rub her forehead lightly. ]

[She totters unsteadily, wriggling with satisfaction. She enjoys having her forehead rub, but the sparkplug deters most from paying it too much attention when petting. She pushes her head against his thumb firmly once she regains some balance, purring like a broken lawnmower.]

[ most people are probably instinctively afraid of electricity. he's not most people. and damn but if she isn't just... sweet. he rubs a little more firmly ]

I take it this is appreciated?

[Cy appears completely blissed out. That purring isn't stopping any time soon. He knows how to pet a cat.]

More than a hurricane.

[ chuckle. ] Most things are, in my experience. [ rub, rub ] Is there anywhere else you would like tended to?