Dumpster Cat
"Don't you think this is all a bit dramatic, petal?" The warbling song of the weeds voice is all wrong. Too harmonic, too rich, too pretty?
"Fuck off," You yell in half-hearted defiance. "Leave me alone weed."
Petal, you're hiding in the ship's trash compacter. Please come out."
"No! Piss off! I'm fine here, I've got supplies and everything!"
"Really, petal?" The monstrous plant sighs, a curiously human sound. "There's raw sewage dripping from the ceiling. It doesn't exactly scream holiday getaway now, does it?"
"Yeah, well," You huff. "Up until five minutes ago I was safe, happy and alone! Now get tae fuck you interfering shrub!"
"Awwwwww! Someone's a spicy little kitty!"
"What!? No!" The plant is really starting to grind your gears, "I'm not a cat! I'm a person!"
"Awwwwwwww Kitty," The plant coos. "If you're not a cat, why are you hiding behind a dumpster in the rain?" The weed's strange warbling voice is filled with an alluring song. One that you can't help but focus on despite your best efforts. "Come now Kitty, I've got food for you. Your favourite in fact!"
The plant pulls a strange box out of its foliage, pulling the lid of with a crisp pop. Familiar odors waft out, carried by the rising clouds of steam.
"Is that—"
"Your Nani's chicken curry?" The plant smiles at you, "As well as chana dal, and roti. I made it myself actually."
The smug satisfaction in the weed's voice is grating, and you want to say no. You have more than enough synth cubes to survive. Unfortunately, your traitorous stomach growls like a ravenous animal.
"Would you like some?" The grinning plant pushes a bowl loaded with delicious memories towards you, "You're far too skinny, a nice hot meal will do you the world of good, Kitty."
You snatch up the offered plate and start digging in. It really is Nani's cooking: The excess of jeera because it was always her favourite spice, the married man pork that just elevated her green seasoning. Are there grated carrots in the dal? Nani always put carrots in her dal because you loved them so much. Tearing one of the buttery roti apart, you load up a portion of dal and curried potato, shoving the too large mouthful into your mouth.
It's perfect. Just like you remember, you can't help the little moan that escapes you, though hopefully the fact your face is stuffed with delicious curry and dal means the weed didn't hear it.
"Awwwww, does some Kitty like her din-dins?" You'd curse, but you're too busy eating, stuffing more of the heavenly meal into your mouth. "Slow down Kitty, remember to breath."
You're brain catches up with what the damn plant just said, and you take a deep breath to tell the presumptious weed that you're not a girl. Unfortunately for you, your mouth is full of the curried potato you just shoved in it, and suddenly breathing is high on the list of things that you'd like to be able to do.
"Kitty, are you okay?" You frantically nod your head, despite the iron band tightening round your chest. The plant's knowing grin does nothing to comfort you, "Really Kitty? You seem to be choking, are you sure you don't want help?"
You look around, desperately searching for a way out, as you repeatedly punch your sternum. You'd never really thought about it before, but the fact your chest is so flat is now deeply uncomfortable. Your eyes pop out of your face, as you frantically try to draw breath. You frenzied gaze searches your filthy hidey-hole, hoping against hope there's something that can get you out of your predicament.
You look up at the the grinning affini. Maybe the damn weed drugged you. Maybe is just the fact that your vision is dimming at the edges, but they look far friendlier than they did seconds ago. You reach up a tentative hand towards them, pleading.
"Awwwww, Kitty! You do want help." The plants grin is so wide it's a wonder the top of their head doesn't fall off. "Just nod if you want me to rescue you."
You nod, its not like you have any choice at this point.
Before you realise what's happening, you're wrapped in their vines, the errant potato pulled from your airway and tossed aside. You draw in desperate, gasping lungfuls, the stale air of the ship tasting refreshing and crisp, despite the lingering odour of sewage. It takes a couple of minutes for your eyes to stop watering, but when they do, you realise that you are held very firmly in the vines of your captor.
"Do you… think you could let me down?" You mumble in a meek voice, "I'm feeling a lot better now."
"Now what would I do that?" The plant giggles, "Left to your own devices, you'd just find another way to get yourself in trouble. I'd have to rescue you all over again."
"Put me down this instant—"
"Now now, Kitty," Your saviour shushes you with a vine to the lips. "Good girls say thank you to the kind affini that saved them."
"I'm not a girl boy! I'm a boy girl" Your protest crashes to a halt as you brain registers what you just said. "No! That's wrong! I'm a boy girl! A boy girl!"
"Yes! You're Mommy's goodest little girl!" You squirm, overwhelmed by embarrassment, as the damn weed pretty affini, tickles you under the chin. "Come on Kitty, it's time to take you home."
"Nooooooooooooooooooooo!" You yowl, "Let me goooooooooooooooooo!"
"Kitty," Your captor Mommy sighs. "If you don't start behaving I'll have to take steps."
You continue your futile struggle, but the vines that bind you are stronger than steel. You know you will never escape them, but that doesn't stop you putting up a fight. Even if that fight is more akin to wiggling like the needy little kitty you truly are.
"Have it your way Kitty." Mommy sighs again and you feel a pinch in your neck before the world goes dark.
—
"You were right, my dear flower, ferals do make the cuddliest lap pets." The musical sound of Mommy's beautiful voice washes over you. Its your favourite sound in the world. You could listen to her talk all day, but mostly you just spend your time on her lap, purring and making biscuits.
The other affini, Mommy's friend, giggles, and scritches you behind your ears. You let yourself be carried away on clouds of blissful sensation. Though of course, when Mommy does it, its somehow even better.
"She really is the cutest little kitty!" The other affini's voice is pleasant and musical, but not as good as Mommy's voice.
"I know, right!" Mommy giggles, sending electric jolts of pure affection throughout your nervous system, "And to think it was all thanks to a simple potato!"
