[open] a cat's a cat for all that

[sophicsulphur]

Iris Fortner is in distress. Of course, this isn't unusual, what with the metric fuckton of fail that living with the Fuchizakis drops on her on a near-daily basis. But this isn't that kind of distress, nor is it the kind that comes with snowstorms and blackouts and other strange manifestations of the Rift. No, this is almost entirely mundane; at

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[askthemoon]

"Shoo!"

Remus had been wandering when he came upon Iris, looking for a good quiet place to settle down and read, or possibly something interesting to do. And considering she looks quite distressed, he's not about to just pass by. So he has come to help her against the kittens.

He's trying to discourage them by swatting at them with his book. Gently. He'd rather not hurt them, after all.

"Off, you beasts. Off! --You all right?" The question is directed at Iris, of course, as he attempts to dislodge one of them from her without getting scratched.

[sophicsulphur]

She's now cringing beneath her wings, a defence mechanism that doesn't entirely help when your "shield" is the very thing being attacked. It seems to be an instinctive reaction. She kind of wishes she had a better one, for moments like this.

"Y-yeah, I think so, kinda, just-- ouch!" She plucks another kitten from her back, and stares it reproachfully in the face before setting it down. "They're really-- I know it's not their fault, they're just kind of-- terrifying! Yow!"

[askthemoon]

"Yes, well, anything that attacks as a mass would be, a little bit." He frowns at the one he has by the scruff of his neck.

Remus is not a cat person, not by a long shot. It's probably got something to do with the whole wolf thing.

"There we go --" He pulls two from her wings as carefully as he can, to keep feathers from coming off, and sets them down. There's a small growl that he doesn't entirely mean to let out as one takes a swipe at his sleeve. "None of that, now. I think that might be -- no you don't, shoo -- the last of them, Miss. Now it's just a matter of -- go -- keeping them off."

[sophicsulphur]

"I'd never have thought I'd be so frightened of kittens," she remarks, flicking her hand at an orange striped one that keeps pawing at her socks. They really are very sweet. Just also very problematic.

Now that their game is over, several of them are already poofing out of existence, with others sitting off to one side and studiously licking themselves as if to convince any passersby that, of course, they intended to lose this particular round. A few still remain interested, milling at Iris' feet and occasionally jumping up, but she's managing to dodge them well enough

[lasttimeilost]

Leon knows in theory that he has a curfew, especially on school nights, but after several hours of being incredibly frustrated with homework, he needs to get out of the apartment, away from the Bergmans and the busy lights of Chicago. Of course, he also has to be in school tomorrow morning, so he can't go as far as he might like, so he finds himself wandering in the woods of Grant Park

[sophicsulphur]

If Iris knew what was running through his mind, she wouldn't think it was creepy at all. She's not here dancing for anyone else, this night, but if the inspiration and awe that she feels in her heart is reaching others through her dance, then she can only be glad of it. Her wings are a wonder to her, and she wants them to be a wonder to others as well. After all, isn't that part of the point of angels? To be something that mortals will look upon, and in looking, know there's something more?

She doesn't notice his shadow, or his physical presence. In this darkness, all is shadows, and the darting light of the candle catching an angelic form might just as easily be a figure formed from branches of a tree, or a reflection from a hanging web. But the thin pulse of his energy slips under her skin, a strange second rhythm entering into her dance. Life. And magical life, at that. She wouldn't have picked up on an animal this way

[lasttimeilost]

There is certainly a moment, when she first turns around, that Leon almost steps back, not wanting to disturb her in this clearly personal moment. He blushes in the dark.

"No ma'am," he says respectfully, lowering his head. There's a power working here he doesn't entirely understand. "I was just... watching." He raises his head. It doesn't exactly sound weird, when he says it like that. "You're a wonderful dancer."

He watches the glow of the candles in her eyes, and his breath hitches in his throat. "I didn't mean to bother you," he says quietly, lowering his head again.

[sophicsulphur]

"You're not," she says, her voice light and airy. This, dancing out in the woods with her wings spread wide, is quite the happiest she's been in a long time, and not even interruption can break that spell. "I don't mind."

She can't help a little blush herself at the compliment. "And thanks. Everyone says I'm clumsy. But I think I'm not too bad, if I can be myself." Her head tilts, her fiery eyes regarding him. They're a deep shade of brown, in normal light, but the candle's glow makes everything seem ethereal. "Did you wanna join in?"

[cleffiesreborn]

He's been watching her

[sophicsulphur]

She wasn't going to look up. It has to be all a dream this time. Has to be. But there's something about that voice that makes recognition circuits flare, that forces her to lift her head and regard his face, despite every instinct in her protesting against it.

The flicker of memory-- it hadn't been certain. She hadn't really been prepared for what she was going to face. All she'd known is that the voice sounded familiar, that it tugged on something from her recent past.

When her eyes meet his, the vulgarity of his words, the tone, the situation-- it all clicks into horrible, heartwrenching place. "You," she hisses back at him, with just as much venom.

She's going to die now, she's sure of it. Her heart's trembling. Her stomach gnaws at empty air, trying futilely to reject contents that don't exist. This is the end. Her end, in some dark and wonderless place in the middle of abandoned nowhere. This is how she's going to die.

She hates it. But she may as well face it. A flicker of sadness alights in her heart: do I really not get to

[cleffiesreborn]

Molly's dead in the background. Her body's disfigured, but still recognizable.

There's smoke in the air. It's hard to see Ivan. He's busy pulling up memories, memories of the wings-that-were-never-meant-to-be. Trying to find out what else can slake his need for her fear before he finishes it.

That feeling -- her wings are gone now -- of them pressing, not quite out like they should be. Memories of people telling her how she couldn't ever be an angel. How she can't be accepted.

[sophicsulphur]

Dimly, in the back of her mind, she knows none of this is real. Maybe none of this was ever real. Maybe Chicago, itself, was all a nightmare and a dream. It's all too improbable. Everything she loves, everything she's fought so hard to keep, destroyed in front of her. It's too simple; too obvious. The world doesn't work like this.

It doesn't stop her from screaming. There's no other reaction to that sort of assault. It can't be real, but there's nothing else to focus on, nothing else to see. It can't be real, but it is her world. And so, like someone trapped by dream-spectres, who knows it's an illusion yet can see no way out, she howls.

It's a long, continuous, bitter howling, that resonates in the metal of the old warehouse and sets its substance to ringing. Or maybe that's just her ears, protesting the deafening and constant noise.

[therebelruns]

Not to worry, Iris. Lola to the rescue! She doesn't recognize the older at first, the wings being the cause of that. But she definitely sees the bother the kittens are causing, and that's all she needs to help anyone out.

"Gatitos malo!" she says as she hurries over, carefully reaching for one and putting it down on the ground again. "Naughty! Stop it!" She shoos them away with scolding tones, "Malo! Naughty kittens, shoo!"

But when she finally looks up at the girl, her jaw falls. She just stands in utter shock for a few moments before a wide grin slowly spreads across her face. She can't believe it. She did it, she finally did it. She finally got her dream. "You're an angel," she says finally.

[sophicsulphur]

Iris recognises the voice as soon as she opens her mouth, but she's too busy yelping and swatting kittens to speak. At length, though, the kittens are dispatched, now crowding around their feet and mewing noisily. A few of them continue to bat at her feathers from the ground, but this time, she has the presence of mind to lift her wings, keeping the tempting primaries out of reach of the eager claws and teeth.

Only then does she address the girl. When she does, it's with a grin every bit as big as Lola's. "I am," she says, giggling softly in delight. "--And hey, you got my back. Literally. Thanks, Lola."

[therebelruns]

Lola sighs happily, taking a few moments just to stand back and admire her wings. They're huge, she's not seen wings like this for a long time. Her mother had huge, powerful wings - but she just guessed it was because she was an archangel.

"They are beautiful," she says, still in awe. A hesitant hand reaches up to one of them, but she holds herself back - not actually touching the feathers. That would be rude. "When did you get them?"

She nods her head, "You are most welcome," she replies with a soft smile. "You are so lucky, I need to wait just over a year for my own," She's slowly but surely counting down the days. Because she knows that when she finally gets her own wings, things will be right. She'll be able to do what she was meant to do.

[sophicsulphur]

The wing Lola reaches for does indeed flinch, just the tiniest bit. She doesn't actually pull away, because that would be rude-- she doesn't want to imply that Lola won't be decorous. It's just instinct. She can feel the slight heat of the girl's hand even through the air between them. They're so sensitive. It's kind of amazing.

"Thank you," she says, and she can't help a careful bow, keeping her wings well clear of the pool of felines at their ankles. "Just... just a few days ago. In the snowstorm."

She regards Lola with a small head-tilt. "Were you okay, by the way?" For all she'd been having the grandest of times while snowed in at Aurora's, she's aware others might not have been quite so lucky. And Lola's so young, and all on her own.

"And yeah, a year. It'll fly by," she says, knowing it won't. But she wants to be encouraging. "And then we'll be able to teach each other lots of stuff. So much stuff."