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Entry 403; Day 513
May. 16th, 2010 04:09 pm[Voice Post]
(Click.))
((A little soft fumbling, furry sounds, murmurs, a small sound somewhere between purring and a meow. It takes a moment or two. Some sounds like a very small throat being cleared. Then a voice--Cain's voice, but so much smaller, strange-sounding, vaguely...feline.))
No, there. Ah--it always takes a moment. You'd think I'd be better at this by now. It's easier with the--
--larger device. Just like that.
So I've found myself a cat today. Yet again. I knew it the moment I opened my eyes and found my room to seem far larger than it had last night. And it was thereafter I found my whiskers, paws, tail, ears--all the rest of it. It always takes longer to get used to the teeth, though. I've gotten better about speaking while in this shape though, I must admit.
I should have known the City would do this to me, after I'd said yesterday how surprised I wasn't a cat, with this weekend being one of those weekends when it seems the City is overtaken with multiple curses and utter chaos--this person suddenly a child, that one confused beyond belief, men turned to women, another turned into a bird or dog. And here I am a cat.
((A pause, a soft sound like a cat grooming itself, licking its shoulder, considering what next to say or do, like one might straighten one's cuffs or gloves.)) Why do I do that? I'm not really a cat, and yet--
Anyway, Kassandra and Noir seem calm as ever about my being rather like them again, and Kassandra insisted that I be well-groomed before she would leave me alone. That was, perhaps, a bit much. She always does that when I wake up as a cat. I wake up, leap down from my bed, and she sets to work on my ears. Noir too seems calm enough with me in this shape, of course. But what else could one expect of a clockwork cat? Perhaps Kassandra's only especially maternal. I've no idea.
I do wonder what they think, though, when I turn into a cat. Perhaps they don't think about it at all. Perhaps I'm just this other cat who comes and goes from time to time. Or perhaps they know who I really am--by scent or something.
I've absolutely lost count of how many times I've been a cat, but it's becoming a monthly ordeal at this point. It's almost like some joke the City is playing on me. I wonder if it will persist until I'm allowed to go home.
I suppose only in the City could I say that waking up to find myself turned into a cat now causes me more boredom than alarm. I've learned a bit from having woken up with whiskers before. I can turn on and even use my Network device, I get myself out of my room, up across the roof, out the window, down to the kitchen, through secret passages, into the cupboards--nearly anywhere I could go as a human, and perhaps more places, given my smaller size.
Well, given the chaos on the Network and in the City streets, I think I can find ways to entertain myself, even if I have a tail and whiskers.
Riff, you shall still be expected to attend to me in the usual way--or, well, the usual way for a cat, at least. And, if you don't, I shall stay completely underfoot and demand that you carry me about. Or else lie on top of whatever it is you're doing and be utterly in the way. Or drape myself all over your shoulders. I shall stay completely in your way, however it happens, as it is a cat's nature to do.
It's not every cat that has a butler, after all.
I think I shall be well entertained today, tail and all.
((A moment or two more of fumbling: damnable paws. Ah, but there's the button.))
((Click.))
[//voice post ends]
[ooc: Cat-liketyping talking detected! Tah dah~ Cat!Cain is back again~ I do love cat!Cain, I admit, and the whole monthly-cat-transformation thing is getting amusing to me. And this time Riff can have a lovely cat!Cain fur collar. Cain just wants Riff to carry him around all day, really. Sounds like an excellent day. Meanwhile, if you want your character to have seen a particular, peculiar black cat with slightly ragged ears and greengoldgreen eyes, please feel free. Cain will be wandering about a little today, if he can tear himself away from Riff.]
(Click.))
((A little soft fumbling, furry sounds, murmurs, a small sound somewhere between purring and a meow. It takes a moment or two. Some sounds like a very small throat being cleared. Then a voice--Cain's voice, but so much smaller, strange-sounding, vaguely...feline.))
No, there. Ah--it always takes a moment. You'd think I'd be better at this by now. It's easier with the--
--larger device. Just like that.
So I've found myself a cat today. Yet again. I knew it the moment I opened my eyes and found my room to seem far larger than it had last night. And it was thereafter I found my whiskers, paws, tail, ears--all the rest of it. It always takes longer to get used to the teeth, though. I've gotten better about speaking while in this shape though, I must admit.
I should have known the City would do this to me, after I'd said yesterday how surprised I wasn't a cat, with this weekend being one of those weekends when it seems the City is overtaken with multiple curses and utter chaos--this person suddenly a child, that one confused beyond belief, men turned to women, another turned into a bird or dog. And here I am a cat.
((A pause, a soft sound like a cat grooming itself, licking its shoulder, considering what next to say or do, like one might straighten one's cuffs or gloves.)) Why do I do that? I'm not really a cat, and yet--
Anyway, Kassandra and Noir seem calm as ever about my being rather like them again, and Kassandra insisted that I be well-groomed before she would leave me alone. That was, perhaps, a bit much. She always does that when I wake up as a cat. I wake up, leap down from my bed, and she sets to work on my ears. Noir too seems calm enough with me in this shape, of course. But what else could one expect of a clockwork cat? Perhaps Kassandra's only especially maternal. I've no idea.
I do wonder what they think, though, when I turn into a cat. Perhaps they don't think about it at all. Perhaps I'm just this other cat who comes and goes from time to time. Or perhaps they know who I really am--by scent or something.
I've absolutely lost count of how many times I've been a cat, but it's becoming a monthly ordeal at this point. It's almost like some joke the City is playing on me. I wonder if it will persist until I'm allowed to go home.
I suppose only in the City could I say that waking up to find myself turned into a cat now causes me more boredom than alarm. I've learned a bit from having woken up with whiskers before. I can turn on and even use my Network device, I get myself out of my room, up across the roof, out the window, down to the kitchen, through secret passages, into the cupboards--nearly anywhere I could go as a human, and perhaps more places, given my smaller size.
Well, given the chaos on the Network and in the City streets, I think I can find ways to entertain myself, even if I have a tail and whiskers.
Riff, you shall still be expected to attend to me in the usual way--or, well, the usual way for a cat, at least. And, if you don't, I shall stay completely underfoot and demand that you carry me about. Or else lie on top of whatever it is you're doing and be utterly in the way. Or drape myself all over your shoulders. I shall stay completely in your way, however it happens, as it is a cat's nature to do.
It's not every cat that has a butler, after all.
I think I shall be well entertained today, tail and all.
((A moment or two more of fumbling: damnable paws. Ah, but there's the button.))
((Click.))
[//voice post ends]
[ooc: Cat-like