Summary: Gertrude let one cat in. Said cat has a habit of bringing in other cats.
A/N: During @dcartcorner's stream the topic of avatars as cats came up and I decided to write a little something for it. I have another part with the Distortions that might be posted later. Also worth noting: I do not own a cat, never have, I'm horrible with cat breeds, so I've tried to describe Simon/Peter/Elias through this art and Mike's look is taken from this
Lastly: Not beta read by someone else, just me and my lil google document.
Pt 1, You're here! / Pt 2, Michael and Helen Distortion, Agnes / Pt 3, Annabelle, Jude, Oliver / Pt 4, John, Jane, Maxwell, Manuela / Pt 5, Jon, Martin, Sasha, Tim / Pt 6, Melanie, Daisy, Basira, Georgie / Pt 7, Jared, Gerry, Nikola / Bonus, a visit to the vet / Halloween bonus!
Simon was the first cat she actually adopted. It had been one of her coworkers who had wanted to get rid of him due to their financial situation and asked Gertrude about it. Claiming that he was old and an inside cat, easy to take care of. She had agreed. Thinking it would be easy and that, in the worst case, Simon would not live for long after getting him. She could not have been more wrong.
Sometimes he could have passed as a kitten. Rather small for what he was meant to be, thin despite the amount of food he ate, his gray fur was not fluffy enough to hide how thin he could look. Despite it all, the veterinarian had claimed him healthy. He was also not that much of an indoor cat. Sometimes, whenever he felt like it, he would wander out of the house, sometimes gone for days. Gertrude did not mind it that much. He was a rather loud and talkative cat after all.
Simon also had a habit of getting more cats to her doorstep.
One day she opened the door to see small Simon standing proudly in the middle of two new cats. One looked nearly ridiculous next to him. Light beige and at least three times bigger and fluffier, with yellow eyes that sort of made it look like he did not want to be there. To the other side was a mainly brown cat, who seemed to be in a perfect middle of size and fluff. A bit of white around the eyes, nose, stomach and paws. He looked at her with judgemental green eyes and for a moment she worried if a cat could actually see into someone’s soul. Since they kept coming back she had named the two Peter, the fluffy cat and the other Elias.
Peter came and went. Similarly to Simon, he could be gone for days, maybe even weeks. Whenever he was home he was with Elias and/or Simon, being quiet and calm. Elias was probably the most judgemental cat she had ever come across. He was not really loud or overly talkative, but he could spend hours in a corner just looking at her without blinking. It was a bit creepy and sometimes it felt like he was secretly planning to kill her in her sleep.
Four months ago Simon was gone for a week, only to come back in with a very disgruntled cat. Looking rather similar to Peter, though smaller, thinner bit of brown around the eyes, paws, tip of ears and tail, including a branching scar most visible on the back. Despite the cat not being a small kitten, Simon still managed to drag them there. The cat had seemingly accepted its fate, making Gertrude question how far from home they were.
She had taken the cat to a veterinarian the day after. It was a male, named Mike, who had once belonged to a couple that passed two years before in a house fire. The scar was older, though it had gotten infected over the two years. She had gotten more of a rundown of everything that was wrong with Mike and she planned to simply let him up for adoption, except Simon did not seem to leave Mike’s side. So, Gertrude accepted Mike in. If only until he was healthy again, by then Simon would hopefully be over it.
Since then Gertrude had tried to throw Mike back on the streets while Simon was away. Except the pair kept coming back. Which caused her current situation. Sitting on her sofa, trying to watch TV, except she found herself staring at Mike, who had made himself comfortable on the shelf next to a vase, glaring back at her. His paw slowly raising towards the vase, never breaking eye contact. Gertrude narrowed her eyes. Until -
There was no crash. The vase was no longer on the shelf but it was also not shattered on the ground. Her eyes did not leave the falling - flying? - vase. It did not really stop the small cat from glaring at her.
Gertrude had no real clue how long it was like that. The vase floating on the spot, her looking at the vase and Mike glaring at her. Like a picture, frozen in time. At least until -
THAT FIRST SITE IS EVERY WRITER’S DREAM DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY TIMES I’VE TRIED WRITING SOMETHING AND THOUGHT GOD DAMN IS THERE A SPECIFIC WORD FOR WHAT I’M USING TWO SENTENCES TO DESCRIBE AND JUST GETTING A BUNCH OF SHIT GOOGLE RESULTS
Having Canadian online friends is amazing because sometimes you'll find yourself talking about country differences, sometimes you'll get history lessons, and they're just great people!
But then there's when they message you *bonk* every time you say sorry and get called Canadian because of how much you say sorry
Having Canadian online friends is amazing because sometimes you'll find yourself talking about country differences, sometimes you'll get history lessons, and they're just great people!
But then there's when they message you *bonk* every time you say sorry and get called Canadian because of how much you say sorry
Having Canadian online friends is amazing because sometimes you'll find yourself talking about country differences, sometimes you'll get history lessons, and they're just great people!
But then there's when they message you *bonk* every time you say sorry and get called Canadian because of how much you say sorry
A monster is used to people running, screaming, frozen in fear begging etc. But someone sighing cracking their neck, rolling up their sleeves, and walking towards them is new.
The monster didn't quite know what to do. What could it do in such a situation? It was used to scaring children away, where the child would normally retreat to the parents room for comfort and condolences until morning came.
Tonight was seemingly different. You, the parent, had walked into the childs bedroom, fully intent on questioning, berating, and scolding this monster on WHY it was so intent on scaring your child. This wasn't even the first time either. It'd been happening weekly. Week after week of your scared, tired toddler running to your bed. They'd complain of a monster appearing from under their bed, scaring them out of sleep before breaking down into hysterics and sobbing, no longer able to continue their story.
The monster in the room had simply backed away from your small, angered form. Its back was pressed flush and flat against the wall, holding up its hands in surrender. Its taller form made it so it was hunched over in such a small room. Its tail dragged along the floor and it's arms and claws barely reached the ground, when they dangled down. Its knees were bent too.
"You-! ... You tell ME why you're here AGAIN!" You couldn't contain just how angry you were. You jabbed a finger up at the monster, absolutely fuming; smoke was practically billowing from your ears, "Weekly!! This happens weekly! And if you don't tell me what's up with that, I'm gonna beat the crap outta you!"
Now, again. The monster had no idea what to do. This was the first time it had been threatened, and the first time it had been in this childs room, "... Well... Uhm... You see..." It started off, uncertain. It had never needed to explain to a mortal, of all things, why it was doing its job. "... I'm with a group.? There's myself and the other monsters under the bed, in the closet, all those good places–... We, take turns... And randomly choose children to spook and you child is... Just... Unlucky I suppose-"
The monster would've never been prepared for how it was quickly jabbed in the stomach, making it hunch over in shock and pain. It couldn't make a noise of pain fast enough. It had almost immediately received a quick punch to the face. That of which sent it onto its butt, looking up at you in a daze of absolute terror.
"... Next time you, or your friends, come here... I'll make that experience much worse for any of you," And you had left the room to go console your poor, crying toddler. They were in your room, after all. And you both needed a good night's sleep.
The monster took a long time before it finally got up, holding its sore face. The mortal had no fear when processing that there had been a committee of monsters... They were just a hot-headed, tired parent. It wondered if angry parents would have to be added to the list of 'what to avoid' when scaring a child. Or maybe just change their policies from scaring to... Possibly protecting? It wasn't certain. But it admired the parents drive to protect their child. It was alluring, in an admirable way.
The monster had gotten down onto all fours after those thoughts, climbing under the childs bed. It couldn't possibly, physically fit underneath in the words of physics and science, but it didn't need science. It was magic, after all, as all monsters are 'legends of make believe'.
Though as it slipped away into the magical realm of nightmares and terror, it could only look back at the underside of the childs bed. It was sure to be back, and maybe not to scare the child, per say... Now it wanted to have tea, and possibly lessons, with this terrifying mortal.
Hyperfixating on a character but instead of contently talking and posting about how amazing and perfect they are you refuse to shut up about how much you hate them and want to see what happens to them when you put them in a microwaves
