Even though her parents disapprove of her drinking coffee, Zoe has pretty much decided to disregard that today. She's curled up in an armchair in the Coffee Shop with a mocha and a book, reading and looking sleepy, and very cranky about it. Creepy journal conversations late at night do not make for restful sleep.
In the kitchen of the Kashtta, Sam
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...actually, scratch that, there probably isn't.
He was just strolling about, using dogshapedness as an excuse not to get into awkward conversations with people, and then he decided to see if there was anything left out on kitchen shelves or tables which he could nab, and what does he find instead? Sam. And a skunkmonster.
He's not sure if this is more Sam's life or his, at this point.
His nose wrinkles. Apparently the Rift didn't decide to make the species smell any better while it was tossing it through, and it would just figure that the first time he actually runs into the man would involve way too much fur and too many limbs. Hopefully this isn't First Week Of January Redux: The Rift Monster Edition. No one needs that.
"Rrrrou..."
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Not startling it is pretty much what Sam has been doing for the past three minutes since he noticed it. He hasn't quite worked out what he should be doing beyond that, but not startling it seems like a good start.
The skunk... creature looks over at J. Back to Sam. Back, again, to J, the more obviously predator-shaped of the pair. A pair of its eyes blink. The other eight don't have lid to blink with.
For some reason, Sam finds the multiple eyes more disturbing than the excess of legs. "I refuse to wash you in tomato juice if you get sprayed," he adds.
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I do have a guardian angel, he thinks. Not that Sam, so far as he knows, can hear his thoughts, but the snark... helps. Ish. She'd probably want to kill me for it, but that's not exactly new. ...I suppose no one's thought of tranquilizers?
...there's a moment's pause while he tries to work out how to communicate tranquilizers.
...stupid canine anatomy. Shifting back human would probably startle the spider, wouldn't it?
After a moment he picks up a forepaw and taps out «TRANQ» in morse code on the floor. Now to wonder if Sam actually, y'know, knows morse code.
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Sam actually has no idea where they keep the tranquillizers. Every other time they've been necessary, there was usually someone like Juliet around who keeps them on hand.
He takes a slow step to the side, toward the door. As he takes another step, though, the skunk swings its head back toward him and hisses. Sam glares at it and mutters under his breath, "You are kidding me."
He has the vague suspicion that this is happening simply because nothing like this has happened to him in a while. He is not amused, Chicago.
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Have a surprise!Dmihug.
"O haaaai."
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LOLshadow, meanwhile, clambers up onto Tosh's shoulder to perch there and lean in to Dmitri's hand. "Hai," she purrs, her eyes half-closed. She's not as chatty when there are scritches.
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The fact that Dmitri has just appropriated part of Tosh's subconscious and is now giving it all the scritches in an attempt to determine its purr ignition would be a little creepy were she not Dmitri, and were this not Chicago. As it is, they're in luck.
"So, were you actually heading somewhere, or were you scoping out your prospects as a street performer?" she asks. "I mean, if it came down to it, I'm getting pretty good at the whole raven-syrinx thing; you could have the Amazing Talking Animal Brigade. Otherwise, I was heading down to check out - there's this conjurer who's opening up a gelato shop right next to the Coffee Shop? I'm kinda curious about the sweets there, though not as curious as I am about the entire economics and business model. ...in case you're wondering, she's some Texas expat and the shop's called Gelato Italia, which is a shame, ( ... )
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Usually it at least has the good grace to only show up when she's inside, with people who won't question it. She pauses, and then asks, "Do you really want to take that to a gelato shop?" Then again, maybe if they just start walking, they'll get out of range of whatever's causing it, and the cat will go away.
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One For Sorrow is tilting his head at that mocha. Elizabeth seems to have put the idea in his head that it's even better than baked goods, which is nigh-unfathomable, but which means he must try some. Sooner or later, this will end in disaster.
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And then the kitten says something.
"O hai," Tabitha says right back, tilting her head to the side. "Is caturday?"
She pauses, looking up at the sky.
"Is caturday evryday."
Right. She should probably get going now. If her fever's high enough that's she's hallucinating talking kittens, it's probably time to go home.
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"Is caturday nao!" she exclaims happily. "Pritee Tosh can has a me!"
Tosh sighs a little, trying to keep the cat from falling out of her arms altogether. "I'm very sorry about her. I really can't stop it talking."
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"Caturday r best day," she says, nodding. "Iz maed uv noms n loff n cheezbrgers."
She tilts her head, looking over at Tosh mildly confused. "Why would you feel the need to apologize? I'd kill to have my very own lolcat."
Is best kind, really.
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LOLshadow tilts her head, allowing Tosh to haul her back upright. "Do u has cheezbrgrs?"
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"Zoe!" She apparently thinks that armchairs are meant for two, since she flops down in a bit of open space, draping over Zoe's knees.
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That smile might be just a little more tired than usual, but never mind that. It's not important.
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