For the WIP meme - there's a cat? Thank you!
ok, so that one wavered between the cat being a were-cat or a dragon, and I think I was leaning more toward dragon:
Steve doesn’t actually figure out he’s gotten adopted by a cat until his second least likable roommate, Joe, flicks cigarette ash out the kitchen window and says, “We’re not zoned for that, dude.”
Steve squints an eye at the large gray tom sitting on the counter, finishing his tuna fish sandwich for him; too sleek, with a long, graceful tail, green eyes and an overbite on his wide face. He’s got an oversized silver medallion hanging from a thin, worn leather collar that says, Steve knows, MURPHY, and also, on the back of it, I go wherever the fuck I want.
“How are we not zoned for a cat?” Steve says. Zoning is specific. Zoning isn’t not allowed. Zoning doesn’t cover cat piss and scratched walls.
Joe shrugs, eyes hooded. He’s got cold coffee at his elbow and he’s wearing his I-got-fired, grungy tank top, and Steve thinks, not for the first time, that he needs a new place to live.
Not necessarily because of the cat, but because Joe and his first least likable roommate, Frank, suck.
