I'm at your back door with the earth of a hundred nations in my skin...

[cyfor]

And suddenly in the OT3's home where there was once nothing behind the fireplace grate, there is a cat. And a great number of shotgun pellets which are rolling everywhere, much to said cat's frustration. She has one of them in her mouth

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[nothingsodivine]

On the coffee table in the middle of said living room, there is a pile of papers from which one Desmond Descant is trying to use as a means to figure out an adequate plan for infiltrating an Oklahoma slave camp for Nephilim, although at the present moment, he's scribbling a note to Grace in his journal. The moment he finishes it, he's alerted to the sound of something in the fireplace... And damn, it's a good thing they don't actually keep a fire going in there, but then again, the damn rift sort of... Makes that difficult.

"Whoa!" He balks, going over to the grate (and sidestepping the shotgun pellets) with the intention of unlocking it and letting the cat out. "Lucky I was here, kitty. Our friend the hideous cat-beast might have made a snack out of you."

Because he trusts that thing can probably get past that damn grate if it wants to. Either way, best not to tempt fate.

[cyfor]

And Cy somersaults into the living room, a shotgun pellet still in her mouth. She drops it at his feet. "Phwaw. Watch that first step, it'll eat your toes."

And with that, she sets about gathering up the rest of her runaway children pellets, carrying each one daintily over and dropping it next to the first by his foot.

[nothingsodivine]

Des is stunned. So for a few moments, he just watches her carrying her shotgun pellets in blank silence, before taking heed of the fact that nothing ever got done by staring blankly at the talking cat with a fondness for ammo.

"Okay. Talking cat. Not the weirdest thing that has ever come through that grate," he mutters to himself before stooping down to get more on her level. "Uh... What're you doing?"

Because... That's clearly the question here. Not why can you talk? Or you know, some vague explanation on how she got here. No, he wants to know what the deal is up with the shotgun pellets. THAT IS THE WEIRD THING.

[cyfor]

She looks up at him, twitching her ears back and forth in surprise. "I'm bringin' out the dead."

And she picks up another one and drops it with a plink on the pile. She is unconcerned with the fact that she is now in a strange house, in a strange Chicago in a strange universe. Strangeness is in fact something to which she is accustomed. Lucky her.

[nothingsodivine]

Des blinks. Okay, the kitten talks and is creepy. That's just... His entire life, isn't it?

"Okay. Well, before I take this moment to recite far more Monty Python than is absolutely necessary for either of us right now, can I ask for a better explanation than that? I mean, you're in my house and if we're bringing out any literal dead here, I'd like to be made aware of it."

....He can't believe he's having this conversation with a cat.

[cyfor]

She sneezes and sits down, the better to look down her nose at him. Which she must look up to do, but being a cat, the height difference doesn't do much to alleviate the utter kitty scornfulness. "They got better things to do than play in ball pits."

Cy contemplates the pellet pile, flicks her tail into the air, and starts perusing the living room for interesting things to claim as her own. Oh, and she's tracking mud. Everywhere.

[nothingsodivine]

Des mentally facepalms and straightens up. Martha's going to be so displeased to find strange Rift-kittens tracking mud everywhere and... Bringing out the dead or whatever it is she's doing.

Size advantage is a definite... Advantage, so Des catches up to her and immediately scoops her up in one hand to prevent further tracking of mud in the house and to... Possibly get her to stand still and listen to him for a second.

"You want a short version or a long version of your circumstances right now, kitten. I promise you that one isn't any better than the other."

[cyfor]

She gives him a look of ferocious disapproval. "Didn't your momma tell you not to interrupt a girl in the bathroom?"

[nothingsodivine]

Des gives her a look to match it... Which makes him look like such an idiot. He cares not. "Didn't yours ever tell you not to treat other people's houses like they're your personal litter box?"

He is arguing with a cat. He cannot get over this and if he were not so determined to win said argument, he'd be a bit more concerned about this.

...Of course, that fact alone is mildly concerning.

"Now I can happily drop you outside, but there's about six inches of snow and a giant monster cat that eats little kittens for a snack. Your move, kitty."

[cyfor]

Headtilt. Thin spiderwebs of blue light drift up around her. "If the sand don't leak."

He might notice that in the past few seconds, tiny kitty has gotten a lot heavier. The blue lights seem to fracture and bright, hot whiteness roars up in their place.

[nothingsodivine]

Des notices the sudden shift in weight and drops her a little bit involuntarily at the feel of the heat, grimacing a little. Hey, she's a cat. She'll land on her feet. Probably.

He takes a step back, frowning. "Okay. You are not a normal talking kitty, are you?"

We're not sure what construes a normal talking cat, but this is Des.

[cyfor]

Well, now there is not so much a talking cat as a MASSIVE SNOW-BEAST OF PREHISTORIC AWESOME sprawled on his floor. It yawns, displaying with the languid ease of a hunter in its element the massive saber teeth curving down on either side of its chin. "Who's normal? Normal's no cat, my boy."

She stretches. And oh. She's still covered in mud.

[nothingsodivine]

Des is... Not having this. Or he would not be having this if there was not a GIANT MOTHERFUCKING CAT-BEAST in his living room. Maybe it can eat the Doctor's cat-beast... Except, no. Nothing would ever eat that fucking cat-beast. It's all bones... And more bones.

Des is just going over here to sit down on the couch and facepalm. "So all this is normal for you, right? This... Talking and suddenly being very large and... Stuff?"

Because if it is.... God, he doesn't want to know what the Rift did to her.

[cyfor]

Cy rests her head on her paws and blinks at him with supreme calm. "'course it is."

Of course, people don't usually listen to her, but who is she to alert him to that fact? She likes being listened to! And besides, talking is perfectly normal.

[nothingsodivine]

This is supremely strange. Thank God, he's used to that, but still. After a moment of silent contemplation, Des launches into a Complete History of the Rift (Abridged).

"So that thing in the fireplace- see the shiny? You're a cat. You should be able to recognize shiny. That thing tends to grab people from their own universes and toss them into this one. You're in Chicago, which is Illinois, which is in the United States, which is North America, and it's December 2008. The Rift only goes one-way so once you fall out here, you can't get back. Also the Rift changes you when you come through it- either you get weird superpowers or your eyes change color or you turn into something, although you seem to have two of these things down already, so I'm a bit afraid. And dear God, I need a beer."

And he promptly hops off the couch and moves towards the kitchen, practically making a flying leap through the door, but even still he cannot stop the opening chords of Baba O'Riley blaring through the house.

Fucking doors.

[cyfor]

When he comes back, should he come back, Cy will once again be small. Small and pawing at the grate, trying to get it open again and investigate the shiny for herself. Because she finds the idea of something snapping her up and not letting her go home to be both rude and offensive and she is a cat. One does not do such things to cats if one wants to keep one's toes.

She will find the person responsible for dragging her away from Ace and bite them. Hard. And on the nose. Yes, the nose. Or maybe the ear. But the nose is less dignified.

Victory! The grate is opened.