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neutral_omens2006-05-29 02:57 am
chantinellie.livejournal.com) wrote in neutral_omens2006-05-29 02:57 am
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Date: May 29, 2000
Setting: The Manor grounds and upstairs
Status: Private (Ellie, and Some Others) XD
Summary: An unexpected discovery and a surprise gift.
Ellie had no particular agenda in mind for that day. The Manor was safe and comfortable, but by the same token it could also be a bit boring. This wasn't necessarily such a bad thing, for someone who'd spent millennia as an infernal prostitute and several years since as a refugee from Hell; but she did find herself wishing at times for something interesting (in the non-disastrous sense of the word) to happen.
'Something' arrived unexpectedly on her way in from the greenhouse, in the form of a tiny scrap of fluff she almost stepped on before realizing it was there. Only a plaintive mew! warned her in time, and she backpedaled hastily in surprise, to find herself staring down at a small, fluffy, wobbly-legged kitten, barely old enough to be separated from its mother.
"Well. Hello there," she said bemusedly. "Kind of redundant, aren't you? It's not like I need a warning, I already know I've got the rottenest luck imaginable..."
The kitten sat up primly, wrapped its tail neatly around itself, and began to lick one of its paws.
"No offense, cat, but for a harbinger of doom, you certainly don't look very menacing." Ellie shook her head and walked around the small creature, prepared to leave it where it sat, but came to a halt as another thought occurred to her.
"You know, you really shouldn't be here," she said to it admonishingly. "There are a lot of dogs around this place. Big ones. And wolves, and wolf-shaped critters. And I think some horses that get loose on occasion and might step on you."
The kitten, supremely unconcerned, rolled onto its back and dangled its little paws in the air, then stretched languidly, sprawling lazily across the footpath.
"I'm serious. Not to mention the birds of prey," Ellie added with a slight frown. "You're just about a bite-size snack for them, and they'd probably appreciate the irony. Trust me, this is no place for you. Better move along. I'm sure some eight-year-old girl somewhere would be delighted to spoil you with milk and tuna and...whatever it is that cats like." Ellie had never owned a cat, nor any other type of pet (well, there'd been an imp once in the fire-gardens, but that had been ages ago and had not ended happily.)
The kitten yawned and blinked at her with large, innocent yellow eyes. It had one white paw, she noted, like a single white sock standing out in blinding contrast to the rest of its jet-black fur.
"Go on, shoo!" she told it impatiently, waving her hands in a way that must have looked rather silly. The cat failed to take the hint, and shut its eyes as though it had no intention of moving.
"Well, drat," Ellie muttered, stymied. She stood there with her hands planted on her hips for several minutes, deliberating.
If the silly thing got eaten or squished, or died of exposure or starvation, it had only itself to blame, she thought stubbornly. Stupid cat, wandering away from its home and mother at such a tender age. The thought occurred that some cruel or careless human might be reponsible, and that just irritated her more.
Ellie turned and strode back toward the Manor, but got no more than a few yards up the path before she was turning around to come back and stare at the miniature feline again.
She couldn't just leave the little guy out here all alone. Dammit.
Grumbling under her breath, she picked the kitten up by the scruff of the neck and held it at eye level. It hissed and spat at her, scrabbling at the air with all four paws, indignant at having its nap interrupted. Yellow eyes blinked at her balefully from beneath a whimsical ruff of cowlicky black fur, and she had to laugh.
"Now, who do you remind me of?" she asked, grinning and cupping the kitty in both hands. She'd just had a wicked idea, which was also the only solution that made much sense.
She had no interest in a pet, and of the Manor inhabitants she knew, most seemed either too self-absorbed, too callous, too irresponsible or barely capable of caring for themselves, let alone another living creature. And of those who remained, most had too much to deal with already.
Which is how, fifteen minutes later, a certain lavish suite on the second floor decorated all in red came to contain a wicker basket, in the middle of which a small black fluffball snoozed contentedly, charmed to wake when someone else entered the room. Around its neck was a nice new collar, and tied to the collar was a bright red and gold tartan bow.
Next to the fluffball sat a crisp white note card, which read simply in an elegant script, "Please don't let me be eaten by something bigger."
Setting: The Manor grounds and upstairs
Status: Private (Ellie, and Some Others) XD
Summary: An unexpected discovery and a surprise gift.
Ellie had no particular agenda in mind for that day. The Manor was safe and comfortable, but by the same token it could also be a bit boring. This wasn't necessarily such a bad thing, for someone who'd spent millennia as an infernal prostitute and several years since as a refugee from Hell; but she did find herself wishing at times for something interesting (in the non-disastrous sense of the word) to happen.
'Something' arrived unexpectedly on her way in from the greenhouse, in the form of a tiny scrap of fluff she almost stepped on before realizing it was there. Only a plaintive mew! warned her in time, and she backpedaled hastily in surprise, to find herself staring down at a small, fluffy, wobbly-legged kitten, barely old enough to be separated from its mother.
"Well. Hello there," she said bemusedly. "Kind of redundant, aren't you? It's not like I need a warning, I already know I've got the rottenest luck imaginable..."
The kitten sat up primly, wrapped its tail neatly around itself, and began to lick one of its paws.
"No offense, cat, but for a harbinger of doom, you certainly don't look very menacing." Ellie shook her head and walked around the small creature, prepared to leave it where it sat, but came to a halt as another thought occurred to her.
"You know, you really shouldn't be here," she said to it admonishingly. "There are a lot of dogs around this place. Big ones. And wolves, and wolf-shaped critters. And I think some horses that get loose on occasion and might step on you."
The kitten, supremely unconcerned, rolled onto its back and dangled its little paws in the air, then stretched languidly, sprawling lazily across the footpath.
"I'm serious. Not to mention the birds of prey," Ellie added with a slight frown. "You're just about a bite-size snack for them, and they'd probably appreciate the irony. Trust me, this is no place for you. Better move along. I'm sure some eight-year-old girl somewhere would be delighted to spoil you with milk and tuna and...whatever it is that cats like." Ellie had never owned a cat, nor any other type of pet (well, there'd been an imp once in the fire-gardens, but that had been ages ago and had not ended happily.)
The kitten yawned and blinked at her with large, innocent yellow eyes. It had one white paw, she noted, like a single white sock standing out in blinding contrast to the rest of its jet-black fur.
"Go on, shoo!" she told it impatiently, waving her hands in a way that must have looked rather silly. The cat failed to take the hint, and shut its eyes as though it had no intention of moving.
"Well, drat," Ellie muttered, stymied. She stood there with her hands planted on her hips for several minutes, deliberating.
If the silly thing got eaten or squished, or died of exposure or starvation, it had only itself to blame, she thought stubbornly. Stupid cat, wandering away from its home and mother at such a tender age. The thought occurred that some cruel or careless human might be reponsible, and that just irritated her more.
Ellie turned and strode back toward the Manor, but got no more than a few yards up the path before she was turning around to come back and stare at the miniature feline again.
She couldn't just leave the little guy out here all alone. Dammit.
Grumbling under her breath, she picked the kitten up by the scruff of the neck and held it at eye level. It hissed and spat at her, scrabbling at the air with all four paws, indignant at having its nap interrupted. Yellow eyes blinked at her balefully from beneath a whimsical ruff of cowlicky black fur, and she had to laugh.
"Now, who do you remind me of?" she asked, grinning and cupping the kitty in both hands. She'd just had a wicked idea, which was also the only solution that made much sense.
She had no interest in a pet, and of the Manor inhabitants she knew, most seemed either too self-absorbed, too callous, too irresponsible or barely capable of caring for themselves, let alone another living creature. And of those who remained, most had too much to deal with already.
Which is how, fifteen minutes later, a certain lavish suite on the second floor decorated all in red came to contain a wicker basket, in the middle of which a small black fluffball snoozed contentedly, charmed to wake when someone else entered the room. Around its neck was a nice new collar, and tied to the collar was a bright red and gold tartan bow.
Next to the fluffball sat a crisp white note card, which read simply in an elegant script, "Please don't let me be eaten by something bigger."