Jacobs’ Journal: Tape 7.5 - Suppawt
Having passed out for several hours, Administrative Oversight Jacobs sleeps in his desk chair, legs propped atop his desk.
The sound of his door creaking open startles him from his drunken stupor, ever-alert. No rest for the wicked.
JACOBS: “H—Hello? Show yourself?”
Jacobs observes no movement, with the door only slightly ajar. After a brief moment, his right hand removes itself from the desk drawer where he keeps his spare firearm. He reclines again and raises his legs back into their prior position.
Suddenly - a heavy weight leaps onto his abdomen, simultaneously pinning him into place and shocking him into a frozen stare into the eyes of SCP-529. She looks around, barely acknowledging Jacobs’ confused stare. She inspects the view and stability of her perch.
Jacobs: “Josie? How the…That door was closed.”
Josie finally looks directly at Jacobs, an element of cheekiness in her stare.
Jacobs: “Can you…open doors?”
Josie begins preening, starting an obnoxious bath starting from her chest on down. Or rather, as far down as is possible. Jacobs regards her with mild irritation, mostly because he also feels mildly impressed at the feat.
Jacobs: “And I thought Lambert was the security risk. Clever little—“
Jacobs reaches up to scratch her ear, but Josie swats his advance away, staring at him directly again.
Jacobs: “So-rry. Didn’t realise being the bed doesn’t come with patting perks.”
Josie returned to bathing, ignoring her bed’s sarcasm. Jacobs rolls his eyes.
Jacobs: *sigh* “Suppose it’s the best gift I’ve gotten for any Christmas. Being the pet bed. Had more than enough wishing I had one, now I can be one.”
Josie pauses and sniffs Jacobs’ face with light little huffs. She eventually opens her mouth, taking deeper sniffs whilst wearing the goofiest expression. Jacobs’ brows furrow as he simply doesn’t know what’s happening.
Josie sneezes right into Jacobs’ face. After a moment, frozen by the sudden spritz, Jacobs wipes his cheeks and mouth clean with his sleeve. He holds back a building anger, keeping his breathing in check.
Jacobs: “I ask you: what could have possibly warranted that?”
Josie turns, sniffing the air, almost following the scent. Jacobs traces her gaze to the two empty bottles of whisky near the wastepaper basket on the floor, one overturned. Jacobs turns back slowly to the cat, his anger boiling over into a distinct embarrassment no human had ever encouraged.
Jacobs: “Well…fair. I suppose I’ve made my own bed on that matter.”
Josie, having seemingly finished cleaning her half-body, loafs atop his chest. Despite this, he can still feel the weight all the way down onto his stomach where nothing visible is resting. Jacobs gets comfortable as Josie’s eyes remain half-open, and stares up at the ceiling.
Jacobs: “I’ve tried dogs. I know people say they’re loyal—don’t get me wrong, they are—but I could never get past how eager they are to please. It feels like overwriting something to make it yours. By the time it’s trained, it’s no longer a dog. It’s a tool. I’d struggle owning someone like that, suppress them.”
Jacobs feels a tapping on the top of his right hand. Looking down, he spots Josie patting his hand, and presenting her head. A half-smile on his lips, Jacobs reaches out and scratches behind her ear. She moves her head so that Jacobs’s scratches move to her chin. Josie sinks into the slow scratches, closing her eyes and purring rhythmically.
Jacobs: “You know what you like. That’s good. Y’know what, Josie? Merry Christmas.”
Leaving his hand under Josie’s head for her to sleep atop, Jacobs closes his eyes and knows he’ll be able to face the hangover tomorrow a little easier.
areudirty
snowghoul
2087
turnnoffyourmind
s-u-f-j-a-n-s-t-e-v-e-n-s
