Gift Post #12 (II)
Title: Commands The Night Sky
Recipient: kuroshiro_neko
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairings: Blair
Summary: A Portrait Of The Nymphomanic Cat As A Young Kitten.
Notes: This is technically manga-verse, but the only way you'd know the difference is one offhand reference that is utterly unimportant.
Warm. Warm. A dark figure envelops her, holding her and her sisters in place, a great black wall surrounding them. Not frightening. Reassuring. Warm. Safe.
Sound. Thump. Thump. A repeating sound, playing on ears that will one day guide her through the night. The sound plays again, and again, emanating from the massive figure watching over them. Thump. Thump. Thump. It soothes. Comforts. She presses her cheek against the Big One's chest, curling up as close as she can. Warm. Safe. Thump. Thump. Thump.
She thinks a name for the Big One, her great protector: Mama. She mewls contentedly as she falls into sleep.
Hunger.
Her stomach craves food, demands that she feed, and she crawls in, seeking out a nipple with her mouth and sucking on it. Milk flows, soothing her aching sides.
Her sister, jealous, tries to push her aside. Her first fight. Only a game. Only playing. Still safe. Still warm. She and her sister roll and tussle, biting and clawing lightly. When she claims victory, she returns to Mama's side and resumes where she left off.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Mama licks her face when she is finished. The rough texture of her tongue. The message of approval. Of love. She closes her eyes and tries to pull away, but is nonetheless content.
Purr.
Her first kill: a mouse half her size. It had fled, skittering away and down the alley with her and her sisters in pursuit. It was faster, but they were many, weaving through the legs of giants, keeping it in sight.
It was too fast. It would escape. Her sisters fell away one by one, until only she remained. She would catch it. She would. She could feel her muscles ache, legs complaining as she worked them past their limits, but she did not slow down. Something was in her legs. Energy. Light. She felt her weight fall away. Some force impelling her forward.
She leaped, and felt it push her forward, pushing her higher and farther than she had ever been before. Than she'd thought possible. She panics. This isn't right. Her instincts kick in, send her twisting in the air, but there's no need to right herself. All it does is cause her to spiral gracelessly through the air.
She lands on top of it, and a different set of instincts react. She closes her teeth around its neck and bites hard. It squirms, fights, trying to escape with its life, thrown into a blind panic. She shakes until she hears a snap and it falls still.
She takes it back to Mama, who purrs and cleans the blood from her face. She has her name now: Commands The Night Sky, for the killing pounce. It is with a hint of sorrow that Mama congratulates her, for she can feel the time of separation coming on quickly now. Already, she can feel her milk drying. Each milestone only brings it closer.
That is of the future, though, and the People largely concern themselves with the present. Now is a time for joy. Purring with pride, she shows the newly christened Commands The Night Sky where all the best meat is to be found in her prey.
Danger.
Commands The Sky shrinks behind the dumpster, along with her sisters, Mama ushering them into hiding. A giant was near. Commands The Night Sky could smell it - smell her, for the scent was tinted with feminity. And something else as well, something that set their hackles up. She was not like the other giants. There is something wrong with her scent, something they had never smelled before. It spoke to their hindbrains, warning them, sending a signal in a single sensation: Danger.
Mama hissed in warning as the giant found them, rounded the corner of the dumpster and found her and her daughters. The giant was not tall, as giants go, but it wore on its head an enormous black mass, a strange pointed shape made of cloth, making it seem even larger than it was.
Found you!
Meaningless noises in a foreign tongue. The giant reached down, pointing at each other them in turn, and Mama clawed at the outstretched hand, seeking to protect her children. The giant pulled back its hand with a yelp of pain, and Mama hissed again, triumphant.
Too soon. It need not even touch her to send her into the wall, stunned. The giant goes back to pointing at each of the kittens in turn.
Now, which one of you was...aha!
Its finger alights on Commands The Night Sky, and before any reaction can be had, its hand is lashing out, grabbing her by the scruff of the neck and hoisting her aloft. She snarls and twists, clawing and biting at the giant to break free. It only looks annoyed.
That's enough out of you.
More meaningless noises, emanating from its mouth. There is a snapping sound, and suddenly she falls limp. Her body will not respond, and she hangs limp in the giant's grasp, helpless to resist as she is dropped into a bag and carried away.
I can't believe my luck! My own magical cat, and a natural one too! Wait until Shaula sees it, she'll just die of jealousy. Now, you'll need a name...
She can hear her sisters crying after her as she is carried away, but she will never see them again.
Years pass.
“Damn, those Shibusen bastards are persistent!”
Rusume, the Squid witch, dashes frantically from one end of her lair to the other, packing up what little she has time to grab. A protective barrier spell holds the door fast, but not for long; Already it is beginning to strain as a steady series of blows hammer it.
“Blair!” she shouts up to the attic, calling on her familiar. “Blair, you damn lazy cat, get down here!”
The charm protecting the right window cracks and breaks, sending glass shattering into the room. She swears and tosses a poisonous ink bomb through it. Hopefully that would slow them down some. She looks around again, and realizes that Blair is still not present.
“Blair, hurry up! There's no time!”
Finally, agonizingly slowly, a nude woman descends from above, climbing down as though she had not a care in the world.
“What on earth were you doing up there?” Rusume demands, dropping her belongings in a pile at the center of a magic circle. Blair yawns.
“Sleeping.”
Rusume looks outraged. “Sleep-whatever, there's no time! Help me cast the transportation spell, quickly!”
Blair looks at her, and then down at the pile of things on the ground. She shrugs her shoulders: “Nah. Don't wanna.”
“Don't wanna?” Rusume's voice is tinged with panic. “Blair, Shibusen is literally knocking down the door! We don't have time for you to get in the mood!”
Blair shrugs again, and then sits down on a plush chair. “That's more your problem, isn't it?”
“Do you really think those thugs are going to distinguish-”
She never got to finish her sentence. The spell protecting her front door breaks with a crack of thunder, and a man wielding a small black hammer bursts through it. Before Rusume can even turn around, he has her by the throat, pinning her against the wall.
“Stop!” she screams in vain. “Don't, please! Blair! Help me! Blair!”
A black cat, seated on her plush chair, looks back at her, blinking its wide eyes. If such a thing was possible, you might have thought the cat was grinning.
Nobody notices the cat as it hops down from the chair, and pads silently over to Rusume's belongings. They are too busy killing a witch. Likewise, they are too busy claiming the witch's soul to notice the cat taking a hat from the top of the pile, and placing it upon its head.
Blair strides out the front door unobstructed, and without so much as a smug glance behind her. A mere familiar no longer, she would once again command the night sky, and nobody would ever tell her what to do again.
Recipient: kuroshiro_neko
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairings: Blair
Summary: A Portrait Of The Nymphomanic Cat As A Young Kitten.
Notes: This is technically manga-verse, but the only way you'd know the difference is one offhand reference that is utterly unimportant.
Warm. Warm. A dark figure envelops her, holding her and her sisters in place, a great black wall surrounding them. Not frightening. Reassuring. Warm. Safe.
Sound. Thump. Thump. A repeating sound, playing on ears that will one day guide her through the night. The sound plays again, and again, emanating from the massive figure watching over them. Thump. Thump. Thump. It soothes. Comforts. She presses her cheek against the Big One's chest, curling up as close as she can. Warm. Safe. Thump. Thump. Thump.
She thinks a name for the Big One, her great protector: Mama. She mewls contentedly as she falls into sleep.
Hunger.
Her stomach craves food, demands that she feed, and she crawls in, seeking out a nipple with her mouth and sucking on it. Milk flows, soothing her aching sides.
Her sister, jealous, tries to push her aside. Her first fight. Only a game. Only playing. Still safe. Still warm. She and her sister roll and tussle, biting and clawing lightly. When she claims victory, she returns to Mama's side and resumes where she left off.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Mama licks her face when she is finished. The rough texture of her tongue. The message of approval. Of love. She closes her eyes and tries to pull away, but is nonetheless content.
Purr.
Her first kill: a mouse half her size. It had fled, skittering away and down the alley with her and her sisters in pursuit. It was faster, but they were many, weaving through the legs of giants, keeping it in sight.
It was too fast. It would escape. Her sisters fell away one by one, until only she remained. She would catch it. She would. She could feel her muscles ache, legs complaining as she worked them past their limits, but she did not slow down. Something was in her legs. Energy. Light. She felt her weight fall away. Some force impelling her forward.
She leaped, and felt it push her forward, pushing her higher and farther than she had ever been before. Than she'd thought possible. She panics. This isn't right. Her instincts kick in, send her twisting in the air, but there's no need to right herself. All it does is cause her to spiral gracelessly through the air.
She lands on top of it, and a different set of instincts react. She closes her teeth around its neck and bites hard. It squirms, fights, trying to escape with its life, thrown into a blind panic. She shakes until she hears a snap and it falls still.
She takes it back to Mama, who purrs and cleans the blood from her face. She has her name now: Commands The Night Sky, for the killing pounce. It is with a hint of sorrow that Mama congratulates her, for she can feel the time of separation coming on quickly now. Already, she can feel her milk drying. Each milestone only brings it closer.
That is of the future, though, and the People largely concern themselves with the present. Now is a time for joy. Purring with pride, she shows the newly christened Commands The Night Sky where all the best meat is to be found in her prey.
Danger.
Commands The Sky shrinks behind the dumpster, along with her sisters, Mama ushering them into hiding. A giant was near. Commands The Night Sky could smell it - smell her, for the scent was tinted with feminity. And something else as well, something that set their hackles up. She was not like the other giants. There is something wrong with her scent, something they had never smelled before. It spoke to their hindbrains, warning them, sending a signal in a single sensation: Danger.
Mama hissed in warning as the giant found them, rounded the corner of the dumpster and found her and her daughters. The giant was not tall, as giants go, but it wore on its head an enormous black mass, a strange pointed shape made of cloth, making it seem even larger than it was.
Found you!
Meaningless noises in a foreign tongue. The giant reached down, pointing at each other them in turn, and Mama clawed at the outstretched hand, seeking to protect her children. The giant pulled back its hand with a yelp of pain, and Mama hissed again, triumphant.
Too soon. It need not even touch her to send her into the wall, stunned. The giant goes back to pointing at each of the kittens in turn.
Now, which one of you was...aha!
Its finger alights on Commands The Night Sky, and before any reaction can be had, its hand is lashing out, grabbing her by the scruff of the neck and hoisting her aloft. She snarls and twists, clawing and biting at the giant to break free. It only looks annoyed.
That's enough out of you.
More meaningless noises, emanating from its mouth. There is a snapping sound, and suddenly she falls limp. Her body will not respond, and she hangs limp in the giant's grasp, helpless to resist as she is dropped into a bag and carried away.
I can't believe my luck! My own magical cat, and a natural one too! Wait until Shaula sees it, she'll just die of jealousy. Now, you'll need a name...
She can hear her sisters crying after her as she is carried away, but she will never see them again.
Years pass.
“Damn, those Shibusen bastards are persistent!”
Rusume, the Squid witch, dashes frantically from one end of her lair to the other, packing up what little she has time to grab. A protective barrier spell holds the door fast, but not for long; Already it is beginning to strain as a steady series of blows hammer it.
“Blair!” she shouts up to the attic, calling on her familiar. “Blair, you damn lazy cat, get down here!”
The charm protecting the right window cracks and breaks, sending glass shattering into the room. She swears and tosses a poisonous ink bomb through it. Hopefully that would slow them down some. She looks around again, and realizes that Blair is still not present.
“Blair, hurry up! There's no time!”
Finally, agonizingly slowly, a nude woman descends from above, climbing down as though she had not a care in the world.
“What on earth were you doing up there?” Rusume demands, dropping her belongings in a pile at the center of a magic circle. Blair yawns.
“Sleeping.”
Rusume looks outraged. “Sleep-whatever, there's no time! Help me cast the transportation spell, quickly!”
Blair looks at her, and then down at the pile of things on the ground. She shrugs her shoulders: “Nah. Don't wanna.”
“Don't wanna?” Rusume's voice is tinged with panic. “Blair, Shibusen is literally knocking down the door! We don't have time for you to get in the mood!”
Blair shrugs again, and then sits down on a plush chair. “That's more your problem, isn't it?”
“Do you really think those thugs are going to distinguish-”
She never got to finish her sentence. The spell protecting her front door breaks with a crack of thunder, and a man wielding a small black hammer bursts through it. Before Rusume can even turn around, he has her by the throat, pinning her against the wall.
“Stop!” she screams in vain. “Don't, please! Blair! Help me! Blair!”
A black cat, seated on her plush chair, looks back at her, blinking its wide eyes. If such a thing was possible, you might have thought the cat was grinning.
Nobody notices the cat as it hops down from the chair, and pads silently over to Rusume's belongings. They are too busy killing a witch. Likewise, they are too busy claiming the witch's soul to notice the cat taking a hat from the top of the pile, and placing it upon its head.
Blair strides out the front door unobstructed, and without so much as a smug glance behind her. A mere familiar no longer, she would once again command the night sky, and nobody would ever tell her what to do again.