Room 222, Wednesday Afternoon
It wasn't that Jackson didn't like cats (although it was true he'd never been much of a pet person). It was that cats didn't like him. Or hadn't, since he'd changed. And this cat in particular seemed to just absolutely hate him.
And yet:
"This makes no sense," Jackson told Mr. Moxy after getting hissed at again for trying to get the damn cat off his bed. "If you hate me so much, why are you taking naps on my bed?"
Moxy just hissed at him again, then curled up as if he thought the discussion was over. Which it probably was because even though he could heal himself, Jackson was getting really tired of getting scratched to hell and back just for trying to clear his bed.
Jim's whole stupid catsitting operation was putting a damper on his whole pre-graduatin week. Goddammit.
[ooc: Open door/post, mild SP warning.]
And yet:
"This makes no sense," Jackson told Mr. Moxy after getting hissed at again for trying to get the damn cat off his bed. "If you hate me so much, why are you taking naps on my bed?"
Moxy just hissed at him again, then curled up as if he thought the discussion was over. Which it probably was because even though he could heal himself, Jackson was getting really tired of getting scratched to hell and back just for trying to clear his bed.
Jim's whole stupid catsitting operation was putting a damper on his whole pre-graduatin week. Goddammit.
[ooc: Open door/post, mild SP warning.]