dream ♫ oo2 ♫ hickory dickory dock
Boris found himself an unfamiliar building. But as with any other day, he took it as an opportunity to explore. Although, there was a feeling he had that made him sick to his stomach. It was not physical hunger (nope, no desire for fish), but something close to greed.
But he couldn't quite place it.
Hoping to get an answer as he walked, he tried to suppress it. As he passed down the halls, he was greeted by little signs of instruction. 'Turn left,' one said, 'Turn right,' said another after Boris had turned left, 'Turn to the south-west,' was another instruction after Boris had turned left then right.
But the one he found most peculiar was, "Speak of the known nursery rhyme that is known for the repeating chime."
Ooh. Rhyming. Cute.
It took him a moment, but Boris did so enjoy a riddle. And in comparison to most riddles, this one was easy as cake. He was curious where this sign would lead him, so he had no problem chanting the following out loud.
"Hickory Dickory Dock,
The mouse ran up the clock.
The clock struck one,
The mouse ran down!
Hickory Dickory Dock."
Nothing happened. …. Boring.
So Boris turned on his heel and tried a different way.
Though as he passed an old grandfather clock a minute later, he heard it chime (CLANG!) and stopped in front of it. And he was sure he saw a little shadow run down along the edge of it. Quickly Boris reached for it, but the little mouse got away, and Boris found only a strand of blond hair in his hand.
Examining it, the Cheshire Cat grin spread across his face.
Oh. Maybe not a mouse, but a rat. And he so did have a grudge against this rat in particular.
Now how would he get the rat out again? He can't say the same verse over. And all the other verses of the rhyme had to do with other animals that Boris failed to care about. The mouse failed to be mentioned again…
That is, until they got to noon.
So with that, Boris opened the face of the grandfather clock and continued to forcibly spin the minute hand with his finger until nearly 11 hours had passed. Why, as he looked out the window, he could've sworn the sun was in a different place now.
Not that it mattered. All that mattered was the hunt for this rat.
"Hickory Dickory Dock,
The mouse ran up the clock," he started.
Just as expected, the "mouse" ran up the clock. Boris flashed a toothy grin as he continued.
"The clock struck noon."
CLANG!
"He's here too soon!" The mouse gave a surprised squeal as Boris proceeded to snatch it up and hold it by its tail. His fingers were poised to just slip. Idly, he noticed that the 'rat' portion of this tiny one seemed to just have been a costume.
But Boris could recall that irritating smile, those words that infuriated him, the look in those eyes that always seem to be borderline taunting him, and all he could think of was a rat that didn't know its place and decided to mess with the cat. Yes. The one in his hand and at his mercy was indeed a rat.
… And what kind of cat would he be to pass this golden opportunity~? Bottom's up!
Tossing his head back and dangling the damned rodent by its tail, he finished the rhyme.
"Hickory Dickory Dock!"
And with that, the mouse dropped, just as Boris's mouth shut with an audible snap.
[Boris wakes in a very good mood, opening his eyes mid-purr. Smirking to himself and looks lazily at the Dreamberry.]
It has been a while since I've gotten a good chase in. I may be out of practice~
[He gets up and stretches in a very cat-like manner, tail curling as he laughs happily.]
I think my feline instincts are acting up~ Do I have any willing volunteers to answer my whims?
[ooc: Yeah, guys. Boris did indeed just dream of eating a shrunken-down rat-looking Vincent. He has no regrets.]
But he couldn't quite place it.
Hoping to get an answer as he walked, he tried to suppress it. As he passed down the halls, he was greeted by little signs of instruction. 'Turn left,' one said, 'Turn right,' said another after Boris had turned left, 'Turn to the south-west,' was another instruction after Boris had turned left then right.
But the one he found most peculiar was, "Speak of the known nursery rhyme that is known for the repeating chime."
Ooh. Rhyming. Cute.
It took him a moment, but Boris did so enjoy a riddle. And in comparison to most riddles, this one was easy as cake. He was curious where this sign would lead him, so he had no problem chanting the following out loud.
"Hickory Dickory Dock,
The mouse ran up the clock.
The clock struck one,
The mouse ran down!
Hickory Dickory Dock."
Nothing happened. …. Boring.
So Boris turned on his heel and tried a different way.
Though as he passed an old grandfather clock a minute later, he heard it chime (CLANG!) and stopped in front of it. And he was sure he saw a little shadow run down along the edge of it. Quickly Boris reached for it, but the little mouse got away, and Boris found only a strand of blond hair in his hand.
Examining it, the Cheshire Cat grin spread across his face.
Oh. Maybe not a mouse, but a rat. And he so did have a grudge against this rat in particular.
Now how would he get the rat out again? He can't say the same verse over. And all the other verses of the rhyme had to do with other animals that Boris failed to care about. The mouse failed to be mentioned again…
That is, until they got to noon.
So with that, Boris opened the face of the grandfather clock and continued to forcibly spin the minute hand with his finger until nearly 11 hours had passed. Why, as he looked out the window, he could've sworn the sun was in a different place now.
Not that it mattered. All that mattered was the hunt for this rat.
"Hickory Dickory Dock,
The mouse ran up the clock," he started.
Just as expected, the "mouse" ran up the clock. Boris flashed a toothy grin as he continued.
"The clock struck noon."
CLANG!
"He's here too soon!" The mouse gave a surprised squeal as Boris proceeded to snatch it up and hold it by its tail. His fingers were poised to just slip. Idly, he noticed that the 'rat' portion of this tiny one seemed to just have been a costume.
But Boris could recall that irritating smile, those words that infuriated him, the look in those eyes that always seem to be borderline taunting him, and all he could think of was a rat that didn't know its place and decided to mess with the cat. Yes. The one in his hand and at his mercy was indeed a rat.
… And what kind of cat would he be to pass this golden opportunity~? Bottom's up!
Tossing his head back and dangling the damned rodent by its tail, he finished the rhyme.
"Hickory Dickory Dock!"
And with that, the mouse dropped, just as Boris's mouth shut with an audible snap.
[Boris wakes in a very good mood, opening his eyes mid-purr. Smirking to himself and looks lazily at the Dreamberry.]
It has been a while since I've gotten a good chase in. I may be out of practice~
[He gets up and stretches in a very cat-like manner, tail curling as he laughs happily.]
I think my feline instincts are acting up~ Do I have any willing volunteers to answer my whims?
[ooc: Yeah, guys. Boris did indeed just dream of eating a shrunken-down rat-looking Vincent. He has no regrets.]