fandomtownies | Strokes of Genius, Wednesday

"God, I'm frikkin' awake already, geez! Go home!"

Why, yes, that was a small green alarm clock on wheels that had followed Katchoo to work today -- although sometimes it hadn't followed her so much as it had zipped out in front of her with a mocking buzz, or occasionally been right on her heels beeping a staccato marching rhythm. It had even managed to climb the steps somehow, which just made her brain hurt, and now it was making dutiful patrols of the store's aisles. Not for Katchoo's lack of trying to stop it; she'd already tried to smash it every day since she'd gotten the damn thing, and was now reduced to occasionally yelling at it.

"Thanks for the present, Francine," she muttered as Clocky passed by on another circuit, emitting an electronic raspberry at her. "I swear, if that girl had a brain she'd be dangerous."

The noise she heard from somewhere down by the drafting supplies was the evilest evil cackle she'd ever heard an alarm clock make, ever.

Katchoo just groaned and covered her head with her arms.

[OOC: . . . yes, Katchoo's Christmas present has, thanks to the wacky of Fandom and very much against her will, turned into a pet of sorts. I kept meaning to get an establishy post up earlier but woo weird week so far. Think of Clocky as a single-purpose and extremely bratty little droid. Actually it'll probably like you, provided your name isn't Katina Choovanski. All

thatsamilkshake's brilliant idea! Fie on thee, OCD! I spurn thee!]

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Not even the rain could dampen Harper's enthusiasm over finding an art supply store. "Oh, this place is so awesome!" she squealed at the girl working there. "Tell me everything you carry."

Katchoo looked up from the counter and . . . didn't really try not to wince at the squealing. "Art supplies, maybe," she suggested dryly. "It's a pretty broad category and I didn't memorize the inventory."

Clocky rolled up and whistled at her scoldingly. "I didn't ask you," she informed it.

"I think I could spend forever here, looking through everything," said Harper, a dreamy look in her eyes.

She didn't see Clocky, but she definitely heard something. "What's that noise?" she asked.

"It's an alarm clock, but it thinks it's a dog or something," grumbled Katchoo. Oh, god, this girl reminded her of kids back at Puncture High swooning over boy bands. "Yeah, if you did that you'd know everything we carry, huh?"

"Oh, that's silly! How would an alarm clock think that it's a dog?" said Harper.

Brain? Still not broken, despite everyone's attempts over the weekend.

"That's what I want to know," Katchoo griped. "Got it for Christmas and as soon as it came out of the box it just came alive or something."

Clocky wheeled out from behind the counter and chirped cheerfully at Harper, earning it a disgusted look from Katchoo. "Oh, you would."

Harper gawked at Clocky for a moment. "Oh, it's a robot!" she finally decided. "You know, my boyfriend Justin built a robot once. He even let me help."

If Justin was in Fandom, he'd cringe to think that Harper was going around calling him her "boyfriend."

Clocky beeped in protest at that; it wasn't a robot! It was just a clock. With a sense of purpose.

"Did he, now?" Katchoo asked with what could only be termed a smile if one were generous to a fault.

"You must have some sort of remote control around here somewhere..." said Harper, trailing off as she looked around.

Because really, there were no such things like clocks with a sense of attachment to their owners, or all that other nonsense people had been trying to tell her about. At least, that's what Harper truly believed in her heart.

There was that electronic raspberry from Clocky, who zipped away across the store and back again.

"I wish," Katchoo said. "I frikkin' wish. Tried to throw it out the window this morning and it got away from me."

"Uh huh," said Harper. "And there are little squirrels in fedoras that gather the notes they read on the radio. Nice try. Someone tried to pull that over on me the other night."

Harper's brain was proving to be very difficult to break.

Now Katchoo's smile got a little predatory. "Oh, yeah, them. They're boozers, too, you know."

Clocky chirped, loudly -- look at me!

"Stop showing off, you piece of electronic hellspawn," Katchoo growled as Clocky tilted sideways and did wheelies around Harper.

"They probably hang out at the bar with the gremlins that hide under the beds," added Harper with a smirk.

She watched Clocky, keeping an eye out for a remote.

Katchoo propped her chin up on both hands, elbows planted firmly on the cover of her sketchbook. "Nah, haven't seen the gremlins at Caritas. There's a dragon in the boiler room, though," she added. That part wasn't true, of course, but Ronan had gotten her good with that one, and she had to pass it on.

"Oooh, dragons in the boiler room. That's a good one," said Harper.

It was ironic that the Russos had taken in a pet dragon at one point, not that Harper knew.

"Not dragons. Just the one," Katchoo said. "But for all I know it coulda spawned by now."

"I'll have to go looking for it after I find this drunk squirrel in a fedora," said Harper with a smirk.

Strokes of Genius, Wednesday

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