(no subject)
[Although Meta wasn't happy at all at having the kitty door removed and his freedom thus severely truncated, Washington's liberal application of catnip really worked wonders in making Meta forget about anything else. The continued use of it had him at times sporadically darting about the room with fierce and growling, attacking his tail, chair legs, anything if he wasn't grip-kicking the catnip mice. Othertimes, usually when he was newly doped on fresh 'nip, he'd crouch low on the ground and waver his head about drunkenly.]
[Then there were the times he just plain out passed out, usually clambouring onto whatever largest expanse of Washington he could, when he was there, usually sprawled on his stomach or chest plating. Which is where he was now, happily high and giving a low, uneven purr]
[Washington had grown used to accepting it, and was had a hand resting on the purring kitty perched on him. He's not even thinking of the idea of what would happen at the loss end, or the pain from Meta getting pissed over the cat food that was likely.]
[And, as luck would have it, this was the moment the Loss ended and Meta was instantly returned to his full size, fully armored, and still under the effects of the catnip. Which is to say, still dozing soundly and purring.]
[There's a groan of pain at the weight of that monster crushing Washington with the sheer weight. He's still not remotely worried, unlike what certain people in the castle would want. Though he does start trying to push the Meta off.]
[Meta starts to come around at the pushing, although his current grasp on reality is somehwat muddied. Or very muddied. It takes him trying to bat at Washington and pitching himself off center and falling off and onto the floor with a resounding THUD for it to really sink in that he's no longer a cat.]
[Washington starts moving to stand at this point.] Meta? Are you okay?
[Meta's growls subside for a moment as he mulls over the words, and then he's growling fiercer and grabbing onto the edge of the bed to try and pull himself up. The room seemed to be undulating and flashing like Christmas. It was pretty. He wanted to catch it. But wait -- Washington. What. He lost his balance and pitched forward, standing was too much to concentrate on with everything else at the moment]
[Washington is a bit surprised at that.] Take it easy, Meta. It's probably the catnip. Calm down...
[Meta's content to just lay down for a moment and roll around the ground, it feels so nice, but then he spots the door and the dishes and little annoyances start popping up in his head, with the additional thought that hey, he could actually do something about that now. He grabs whatevers nearest -- chair, windowsill, whatever -- to try and pull himself up again, growling a little more coherently (thought not by much) this time, you stole the door. ]
[Okay, that gets Washington backing away.] That was to protect you. If Texas found you, she would have used you for target practice with a rocket launcher.
[Not like he's going to be able to do much; once he's standing he's still got a grip on the chair to try and keep him from falling backwards. It doesn't work, mostly because the chair isn't nailed down. Meta stumbles back against the wall and tosses the chair aside., still growling, you fed me CAT FOOD.]
I'm sorry about that. I wasn't sure what else a cat could eat safely. I did better later. [Though that doesn't explain later feedings where he did it...] Besides, it couldn't have been that bad. You ate it.
[Meta snarls, pitching forward and lashing out at Washington, before promptly faceplanting. Who knew walking bipedal could be so difficult]
[Washington continues backing away.] Stop it before you wreck the room.
[With a grunt, Meta rolls onto his back and kicks out at a nighstand, shattering it and sending the journal there slipping off behind it and falling open. Then, he's just back to pulling himself stubbornly to his feet again.]
I'm just glad I moved everything important to safety when I took you in. Calm the fuck down.
[Meta growls, leaning back against the windowsill for the moment while he tries to clear the lingering catnip fog in his head. He tilts the EVA at Washington, growling lowly.]
Meta, settle down. The catnip has you disoriented still. Or am I going to have to shoot you?
[Meta tenses at that, giving his shoulder a flexing roll as he remembers when Washington shot him before. He tries to pull himself to his full height, looking down at Washington like he doesn't care. He's still gripping the windowframe for balance.]
[Wash sighs.] Meta, careful of the window. just give the stuf a chance to wear off.