I'm at your back door with the earth of a hundred nations in my skin...

[cyfor]

And suddenly in the OT3's home where there was once nothing behind the fireplace grate, there is a cat. And a great number of shotgun pellets which are rolling everywhere, much to said cat's frustration. She has one of them in her mouth

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[nothingsodivine]

On the coffee table in the middle of said living room, there is a pile of papers from which one Desmond Descant is trying to use as a means to figure out an adequate plan for infiltrating an Oklahoma slave camp for Nephilim, although at the present moment, he's scribbling a note to Grace in his journal. The moment he finishes it, he's alerted to the sound of something in the fireplace... And damn, it's a good thing they don't actually keep a fire going in there, but then again, the damn rift sort of... Makes that difficult.

"Whoa!" He balks, going over to the grate (and sidestepping the shotgun pellets) with the intention of unlocking it and letting the cat out. "Lucky I was here, kitty. Our friend the hideous cat-beast might have made a snack out of you."

Because he trusts that thing can probably get past that damn grate if it wants to. Either way, best not to tempt fate.

[nothingsodivine]

Des does in fact return and he makes the mistake of stopping in the doorway, so the whole living room is now treated to the sounds of Roger Daltrey belting. The reason for this not moving is because... Well, curiosity is about to shred the cat into a million little pieces.

He bolts for the fireplace and, again, snatches Cy up by the scruff of her neck, because apparently he didn't learn his lesson the first time and then deposits her back on the floor before grabbing a pillow off the couch.

"Okay, so. Apparently 'this way lies death' doesn't register to you. Allow me to elaborate on how badly you do not want to do that." He throws the pillow into the Rift and it comes back in a flurry of shredded cotton and cloth, henceforth making the living room even more of a disaster area. Well, at least it's not as bad as the cat-beast and the dog destroying the house that one time. This living room has seen worse.

[cyfor]

EEE FEATHERS. Cy misses the point completely as she is now busy launching herself into the air and snatching at the elusive creatures made of fluff that are now attacking everything. 'This way lies death' has not made an impact, Des. No, in fact it translated more or less into 'shove things in there and they become epic toys.' She will set about doing this as soon as she has caught that feather over there that keeps FLOATING at her so smugly.

[nothingsodivine]

Des gives a long-suffering sigh and walks back over to the couch to sit and watch her for a moment, wondering vaguely how he's going to explain this to Martha. "Okay, one thing we definitely didn't establish was names. I'm Des and you are...?"

Des may or may not have learned the benefit of not giving people his full name... As it is ridiculous and people not hearing the whole thing means he doesn't get to be mocked... Or something.

[cyfor]

"I'm Cy! Cy for Sign Here." She picks up a shotgun pellet, drops it next to the fireplace, and hooks the little metal ball neatly through the Rift. A bunch of metal splinters come showering back out. Lather, rinse, repeat. One must gather varied data for an accurate statistical analysis.

[nothingsodivine]

Right. OKAY, THEN. Des has decided that this is a cat worthy of the Doctor's affections and makes it a point to thrust said kitty at the Doctor when he comes home... Possibly Martha will blame the Doctor for her existence and not him. Yes, because anyone can be blamed for the existence of a kitty out of a Rift.

"You know, the definition of insanity is repeating the same process over and over again, expecting different results, but I'm getting the impression that you're well aware of the definition of insanity."

DES QUESTIONS YOUR SANITY, CAT... Des should seriously question his own.

[cyfor]

"Unsoundness of mind sufficient in the judgment of a civil court to render a person unfit to maintain a contractual or other legal relationship or to warrant commitment to a mental health facility." She says it without understanding a word, that much is obvious. And then shoots another shotgun pellet through the fireplace before declaring the experiment over (and herself bored).

Time to investigate his journal. Because it makes funny noises in her head.

Nom.

[nothingsodivine]

Des makes to rescue his journal. "Heeey. Not for eating!" He mutters, retrieving it from kitty paws/teeth/whatever. "This, kitten, is a psychic journal. It's how we keep in contact with each other around here... You'll probably get one."

A beat.

"Maybe. I mean... You don't have thumbs, so that might be a problem."

[cyfor]

"Oh thumbs. Don't need those."

Only now she has them. An intense swoop of dizzy and the fact that there are now TWO legs where there should be FOUR sends her staggering and falling on her face. She clutches at her head with the weird spiders that now seem to be attached to her legs.

"What'd you do?!"

[nothingsodivine]

This is not Des's best day ever. He jumps out of the chair, just stares the pale white haired girl who used to be a cat and prays to whatever god will hear him that Martha doesn't come home, because... Yeah, he really wants to explain the naked girl in his living room.

"Me?!" He balks and flails. "I didn't do... What?"

And then he promptly proceeds to throw a flannel blanket at her like naked is a communicable disease and he wants to stop the spread. And now he's just going to pace and wonder why his life kinda sucks.

[cyfor]

She proceeds to be hit in the face by a flannel blanket and then throw it rather clumsily through the Rift because THAT WAS RUDE. She manages to throw about half of it through the Rift, at least. The rest of it gets tangled around her legs and she proceeds to roll around on the ground getting more tangled by the minute and growling to herself. "Thrones bones and automatics, Ace, this business isn't kosher."

[nothingsodivine]

"No shit, Sherlock," Des grumbles, casting a glance at the !cat on the floor, tangled in the blanket. It's not that Des is a prude- he's not. There's just... Something unseemly about a naked girl in his living room.

"Will you put something on? Please? Just while you're in that shape? Or... Just turn back into a cat again or something."

Yes, because that's probably easy. Well, she managed the MONSTERCAT well enough...

[cyfor]

She glares at him. "Oh, it's easy business, is it?" A final kick and she's free of the blanket, laying on her back and panting a bit.

"Clap on, clap off, clap 'em in irons." She sits up very, very slowly and stares at the hand-things at he end of her arm-things. Front of hand, back of hand, hand? Rolling over onto hands and knees. Weird knees. She sits back so her legs are folded under her and wobbles a bit. "You broke something, didn't you. All those cotton balls gumming the gears."

[nothingsodivine]

Convincing her to wear clothes is going to take some doing... Here's hoping John Smith doesn't choose right now to venture into the living room. Des is pretty much convinced that the Casa doesn't have any smelling salts.

"You know if you don't get, like, a toga or something, there's a guy here who will have a heart att- I DIDN'T BREAK ANYTHING!"

And Des is appalled that she'd even suggest such a thing! He's also appalled at how much she talks like a less ethereal Kara.

[cyfor]

And now comes the first attempt at standing upright, because that is what human-shaped-things do, yes? Only it doesn't work so well and she very quickly falls on her butt. "Got Romans hiding in the closet? Bring out your Romans!"

Attempt number two. Failure number two. And now she's tangled in the blanket again.

[nothingsodivine]

And the cat-girl continues to not listen to a word he's saying. Des just sighs and retrieves his beer from wherever the last place he abandoned it and plops down on the couch, making it a point not to look at Cy the Naked Girl Wonder.

"Bend with your knees," he offers, his tone the picture of resignation as he sips his beer. This is just... Insane. And beer and resignation are the best way to deal with it.