fandomtownies | Magic Box, Thursday, 1/27

Entry tags:

Magic Box, Thursday, 1/27

Despite what his owner (and owner-in-law) had threatened the week before, Mr. Moxy was not wearing a dapper fedora and spats as he prowled the Magic Box aisles. Tara, it must be admitted, had tried for a scarf, but he'd neatly removed it with his paws before she got out of her dorm room.

He stalked tiny dust bunnies as Tara relaxed at the counter with a mug of tea and yet another book on possession. The topic was likely to remain a preoccupation for a while.

[OOC: Open shop, no OCD. My office is closed until noon, yay.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Aww, cat! Wes liked cats. They were so proper. And this looked like a no-nonsense sort of cat.

Wesley wandered into the shop, mainly because he saw the cat from outside. "Hello," he said to Tara, quickly wiping off his Aww look at the pretty kitty face. Or, well, trying to.

Edited 2011-01-27 15:33 (UTC)

Despite Tara's best attempts and the utterly silly name, Moxy had grown into a no-nonsense cat indeed. The girl looked up from her reading with a quick smile. "Hi," she said. "Anything I can help you with, or is this, uh, social?"

Either way, it was nice to see Wesley. She didn't run into him nearly often enough.

"Social," Wesley said, breezily swinging his arms. "Is this, ah, your cat?"

Not that it was the cutest cat he'd ever seen, or anything. Of course not.

aaaand lj is eating notifs. wonderful. sorry!

"Mister Moxy," Tara answered, with just the tiniest bit of babytalk in her voice. "I got him when he was tiny, back when my old roommate was still here. Now he's all fierce hunter."

And, apparently, curious about Wesley's shoes.

Oh! Aww, he was a curious cat! Cats were so adorable, seriously. Wes looked down, making sure the cat had a clear path to whatever shoe adventures he wanted to go on. He was considerate like that.

"He certainly looks it," Wesley agreed.

Then, to Mister Moxy, because he couldn't help the babytalk either, he all but cooed, "Oh, you're quite curious, aren't you?"

Moxy sniffed and batted one lazy paw at the shoe's toe, as if you say, Yes, of course, I can tell you're a bright one..

"He's a good cat," Tara said, fond but a little awkward. "He ... gets to come to work with me when I start worrying he'll be all bored in my dorm room, y'know?"

"Understandable," Wes said, nodding. After a moment of looking fondly at the cat, he crouched down to pet the top of his head, although he doubted very much that a no-nonsense cat like that would respond favorably. Moxy was just too cute.

"So is he a, ah, a familiar of sorts?"

Witches and cats, man. It was a thing.

Tara looked slightly befuddled by the question. "No, he's ... like a pet," she said. "I drive him crazy with catnip and carry him around in my backpack sometimes. He's not really a working cat."

From the way Moxy was letting himself be petted, he seemed to find this an entirely satisfactory state of affairs.

"Why, do you have a familiar?" It didn't seem very Watcher-y, but her entire knowledge of Watchers was Wesley and Constance, so what did she know?

Edited 2011-01-27 18:21 (UTC)

Huh. Okay, then. To be fair, his Watcher education regarding witches hadn't made them out to be the the pet-having sort. But okay. This cat was definitely too cute to be a working cat, anyway.

"No," Wes replied, smiling a little. "Or a pet. The only pet I've ever had was a bird when I was about seven, but that's it. I do quite like cats, though."

"You should get one," Tara told him. "I mean, I don't know your roommate or whatever, but it was about the best thing I did to feel like this was home, besides joining reserves."

Huh. He'd never even considered it.

"Interesting," he said thoughtfully. A cat? Really? That was so unlike him. "I'll consider it," he said. "And I suppose if I did get one, he wouldn't be terribly lonely if he had another cat to play with. Or, er, ignore."

Cats were like that.

"Moxy mostly ignored my roommate's cat back when they lived together," Tara said thoughtfully. "But ... maybe it'd be different with different cats? And lots of people have them. I'm supposed to set up a kitty playdate with Hinata sometime."

Kennedy was, it must be noted, thoroughly unaware of the 'owner-in-law' moniker bestowed upon her by the narrative. (And it could probably be argued that Moxy owned them, rather than the other way around.)

...anyway.

She hadn't brought any contributions to Mr. Moxy's wardrobe, which really was for the best, though her own wardrobe seemed to have acquired a new addition in the form of the new leather jacket she had on, and there was a bag of cat treats rustling in the pocket of said jacket, because why should they be the only ones to get something for lunch?

(Someone was still trying to stay on the cat's good side. Even though the smoked-turkey and apple quesadillas were not for him.)

"Mighty hunter cat's at it again, huh?" she asked, sparing a quick grin for Mr. Moxy as she headed for the counter.

"So far," Tara said, with an appreciative once-over of the jacket. "I live in fear he'll actually catch something and bring it to me. It's the circle of life, but I don't want to deal with freshly killed anything."

Dust bunnies included.

"Hey, that's what you have me for," Kennedy drawled, unconsciously shifting into a slightly more tough-girl pose as she said it. "Besides, some chewy tuna-flavored snacks'll distract him from that."

Tara laughed. "So if he kills a cricket in the middle of the night, I should send him to bug you?" she teased. "'Cause that's a little above and beyond."

Speaking of above-and-beyond ... did Moxy smell tuna? He twined around Kennedy's legs, trying to look adorable.

"Sure, now you love me." Kennedy gave Moxy a mock-injured look but set the takeout containers aside and pulled the bag of treats out of her pocket anyway, crouching down to offer the cat a couple of them. Glancing up at Tara she added, "Hey, I'd totally do it for you-- but that miiiiiiight be a little bit much, yeah. Like, if he has to go up the stairs."

"I like needing you, but that's taking the whole thing a little too far," Tara agreed, as Moxy chowed down with something almost like gratitude. "I wonder if I could find some witchy way to just make anythign he killed go bye-bye?"

Yes, that was abusing her powers. No, she wasn't sure if she cared.

"Well, if he does it while I'm around, you know, that's one thing, but-- oh, probably," Kennedy agreed to the suggestion as she reached out to pat Moxy on the head; if that was an abuse of powers, it didn't occur to her. "That should be easy, right? Assuming he doesn't get ambitious and get, like, a rat."

That would gross her out, too.

Tara wrinkled her nose. "Would you stay in the dorms if he got a rat?" she wanted to know. "'Cause I sure wouldn't want to. M-maybe he could get a gremlin..."

"Ew. No." Kennedy was fairly emphatic about that, as she stood and tried to sneak in for a hug. (So totally sneaky. Really.) "What d'you think, Moxy, could you tackle a gremlin? And... not get bitten by it?"

Tara happily surrendered to that ever-so-sneaky-rly hug. "Does he look like he'd let himself get bitten?" she asked. "I mean, I never have, and I'm way klutzier than he is."

If less prone to trying to kill small animals, yes.

"Nah." Kennedy was less focused on actually assessing Moxy's tough-cat street cred now that there was hugging involved, though. "God, please tell me you didn't just jinx us by saying that?"

She'd never been bitten either; she liked it that way.

Tara actually looked scared for a moment despite the hug. "Uh. I wasn't trying to?"

"No. So you didn't," Kennedy declared with a firmness that bordered on desperation. "No jinxing, no gremlin bites for us. Like ever."

Kennedy, that probably wasn't helping at all.

Tara took a moment to ponder this with a nod, then:

"We're doomed," she sighed against Kennedy's neck. "What's for lunch? Think we'll finish it before we get bit start thinking we're the guys from Orlando Crime?"

"Quesadillas with turkey and, um, apple," Kennedy told her, "and cupcakes, and as gremlin bites go it could be worse?"

"Like how?" Tara asked skeptically, going over to poke at the takeout containers.

"We could get gremlin-bitten, and end up acting out some incredibly embarrassing encounter between Justin Bieber and a twelve-year-old fan," Kennedy replied, absolutely deadpan.

...and yet, terrified of the concept at the same time.

Tara took a second to process that, then cracked up. "Can one of us end up with an autograph across an important body part?" she wanted to know.

... this was horrifying.

Petrifying, even.

Nevertheless, Kennedy couldn't help replying, "Like even gremlin venom would stop me from wanting to have my hands on you?"

A moment, then, to compound the horror:

"Oh god. What if it did?"

"Then I'd say they were no good, very bad, mean, evil gremlins," Tara said, as if scolding any who were listening in. "... and I'd take you to the clinic until it wore off."

"See, this is exactly why we can't let this happen," Kennedy declared. "Because it would be wrong."

She couldn't help looking just a little bit smug about that answer.

...okay, a lot smug.

Tara chuckled at the facial expression. "Okay, if you were a cat, you'd be purring and there'd be yellow feathers around your mouth and, um, an empty canary cage behind you," she said. "It's cute."

"I'm always cute," Kennedy informed her cheerfully, swiping a piece of quesadilla for herself and taking a bite.

The cheese, as it turned out, was very, very melty, and a strand of it stuck to her chin. That... put a dent in the cuteness, somehow.

"Yeah, especially with food stuck to your face," Tara said, and went after that melty cheese with a napkin.

"I could do that myself, you know," Kennedy pretended to protest. "Besides, still totally cute."

Tara pretended to give this matter deep thought, and she was spending more time on the cheese removal than was strictly necessary.

Then: "Eh. Not so much."

She couldn't even pretend to be serious about that.

Kennedy turned the most pitiful pout she could manage on Tara for that-- as pitiful as she could manage while trying desperately not to laugh. She doubted either of them was ever fooled by this, but it was a fun little game.

"And I do know how to use a napkin. It's one of the first things Constance taught me."

"Wow," Tara commented, stepping back and grinning in not entirely feigned satisfaction. "She must have worked hard that day."

Kennedy hooked her thumbs into her belt loops and smirked. "Oh, yeah. Longest lesson day ever. So, what? Do I pass inspection, now?"

"More than," Tara noted approvingly. "I dig the jacket. Did I say that already?"

Edited 2011-01-28 21:01 (UTC)

"You sort of looked it," Kennedy replied. (She was starting to learn that demon blood was hell on nice clothing; this wasn't stopping her from replacing it with more nice clothing.) She glanced from one side to another, mischievously. "It's totally multifunctional, too. Know how?"

See, usually that would have been dirty, but Tara really couldn't think of how, so she hooked her thumbs in her pockets and shrugged. "Sorry, no idea. How?"

Of course it was dirty; Kennedy's level of incorrigibility was sadly undiminished.

"Well," she replied, leaning against the counter, "I like to think that it looks good enough on me that it looks like it'd be fun to take it off..."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Magic Box, Thursday, 1/27

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject