2020-09-10 - An Amazon River Nature Special

Dahlia has been super paranoid with the kittens. If she wasn't at home with them, they were in a covered picnic basket, going with her to wherever she had to go. Declan, with Justin's help, had gotten a small enclosure built for them to chill out in when at home when an eye couldn't be kept on them constantly. Since the kittens hadn't truly been causing any issues yet, today, Dahlia as elected to set up a sort of makeshift fort like area in the living room where they have a little more room to roam and she can watch them while also keeping an eye on the TV while she works.

And by work, that is to say, Dahlia is working on crocheting something or other for her Etsy store. There was some sort of cheesy scary movie playing on the television. She was wearing a pair of flannel pants and a gray tank top. Hair pulled back in a neat ponytail.

The biggest problem with kittens anywhere is that kittens are notoriously curious. They'll scratch and nibble at anything to get into it. Or out of it, and then back in form the other side. They dig. They claw. They scratch. They sleep in a pile and love any blanket or old sweater substituting for the warm body of their missing mum. They splatter kitten food all over their faces because they're really only figuring out how this here eating from something that isn't a tit works. They clean each other off and get into play fights about it. The three little mackerel tabbies are behaving exactly as any expert in feline behaviour might expect. Except, ever so occasionally, with a lot more teeth.

Justin comes over to keep Dahlia company and to visit with the little monsters as he's taken to calling them affectionately. He walks in and wanders over to where she is seated with her crocheting and leans over to press a kiss to her shoulder before wandering over to the kitten enclosure. "How are the little monsters doing?" he asks, and crouches down nearby, watching them for a few moments as they do their kitten thing. Caleb, the rotweiler/english mastiff mix that he has at home, has found the scent of the kittens decidedly fascinating, but has not been allowed anywhere near them. Still, he smells a bit of Caleb to them, and a bit of them to Caleb when he's around them.

Dahlia makes a happy little noise as Justin comes over and flashes him a smile. "They're doin' alright I imagine." She looks down towards where they are currently, and shamelessly, playing with one of her balls of yarn. Making an unraveled mess of it. She had purchased them cat toys of course but, well, the human's things were more fun she supposed. " She pauses in her work, laying the crochet project gently on her lap. "And they haven't caused too much trouble or torn up too much. I'm going to call Javier and ask what he things I should do with them. I don't want to put them back in the other place and I definitely can't put them in the hands of innocent bystanders...because they definitely hate that woman to death that was found in the dumpster.Aidan. That boardwalk magician? He confirmed that for me."

Caleb the dog has gotten a lot of little blue side-eyes. It's hard to read the face of a kitten -- most expressions seem to involve staring with wide open blue eyes and looking slightly lost. But staring at the much larger animal in fascination is a good sign, surely? It's possible that the little furballs are just too young to even realise the potential threat; dogs are firmly in the category of Mum Deals With This. Mum, in this case, appears to be Dahlia, Declan, Justin, or anyone else who has hands. And food, food is very important. Kittens grow up fast and they can tuck away amazing amounts of food.

Cats never want to play with the toys that you buy for them. That is one of the cardinal laws of cat. You buy them one or two small toys which they will ignore, then use wads of crumpled paper, plastic rings from milk bottles, twist ties, and anything else you don't want them chewing on and you like it. Even Justin knows this, and he is not a cat person, in particular. Which isn't to say that he dislikes cats. In fact, he finds the kittens pretty cute, teeth and all. "I know of a few of the boardwalk performers but I don't think I've ever met any of them." At least, he doesn't think he met Aiden. "Yeah, they need someone to care for them that understands the Veil. I wouldn't just hand them over to someone. But.. if they don't have their mama either, they're going to need someone to look after them, at least until they're able to fend for themselves. Who knows how big they're going to get." Veil critters be weird like that. He reaches in and gives the nearest one just a little scritch behind the ears. He's generally careful with them, reading their mood to see if they seem to be up to scritches or would rather play on their own.

Food is important. She's been primarily feeding them various types of fish - canned or just cooked by her. They probably like the canned stuff better. Dahlia's cooking is still not that great. Even when she's not cooking for other humans. "You know I've never really been a pet person." Dahlia sighed. "But...they're cute and, well. They seem normal for now besides the veil powers. I hope they don't get much bigger than an normal sized house cat. That would be difficult to try and explain." She finally moves to get up and go over to Justin and the kitties, kneeling down beside him. "I don't think this house could fit them if they got much bigger than that."

Little claws swat playfully at Justin's fingers. A furry little tummy is exposed, a shade lighter than the back, as the kitten topples over on wobbly feet. It nibbles thoughtfully on its own paw and then opens its little mouth to give the strange object an experimental nibble. Everything is normal and fine and par for the course except, well, that's a rather unusual amount of sharp little teeth.

"Yeah, since when did you start randomly adopting strays?" Justin asks with an amused smile. "I remember how long it took you to warm up to Caleb." He nods, looking them over. "They do seem normal enough save for all the teeth." He takes the swatting in stride, not minding the little scratches here and there. "And that's only really weird if you're looking for it. I guess as long as they develop like normal cats.. they could make good mousers, maybe. Know anyone with a barn that needs barn cats?" He grins over at Dahlia sidelong.

"Well, it was either take 'em in or live with the guilt if another person got ate." Dahlia mused. "I'd rather take 'em in." She reaches in and carefully lifts up one of them. "I should give them names, shouldn't I?" Thinking on that as she cuddles the kitten to her chest for a moment. There's another soft laugh. "I've got no clues. Maybe some other shiny people do. I mean. The real scary thing is their power. Do they know they have it? Can they consciously use it to do stuff? Too many variables."

"Wait, they ate someone?" Justin asks, suddenly looking from Dahlia to the kittens and then back again.

"Yeah." Dahlia nodded. "That article in the paper a bit back? With a lady being found in a dumpster. Her husband was taken in for it but...she was chewed up. Sort of. I don't know if it was only these three or if there's more of these little guys running around town."

All the innocence. Three little pairs of blue eyes looking back at Justin. Particularly the pair belonging to the little face that's trying to suck on his thumb. All. The. Innocence.

Justin squints down at the little kitten that's sucking on his thumb, those many many little teeth very dangerously close. "Don't get any ideas, little monster," he says quietly, and then scritches behind it's ears. Anyone who knows a cat knows that not a one of them is innocent, and these no moreso than their non-demonspawn kin. "I suppose we could give them names. I'm going to call this one Damian." He shrugs his shoulders. "I don't know." He looks down at the kitten and says, "Do you know what you are, little guy? Can you do crazy glimmer things like we can?" He talks to the thing as though he fully expects an answer, when really, he doesn't.

"Mew," says Damian.

It's an answer. It's just perhaps not the most useful answer.

Dahlia's eyes widened for a moment. "Damn it. I just remembered. That Aidan guy? He'd mentioned something about talking to cats...like other house cats or something. I didn't even think to have him try talking to these guys." She frowned. "Maybe I can text him...though..." She lifted the one she was cuddling just a bit to peer at it. "I don't know if they would even know. It'd be like trying to talk to an infant I imagine." She sighs, though a twitch of a smile quirks on her lips. "So we've got a Damien. I'm gonna name this oneeee Crowley." She decided. Because giving the demon kitty and demon name is a lovely idea! "We can let Declan name the third one if he wants."

"You should," Justin agrees, chuckling a little bit when the kitten mews at him. "Thanks, little guy. Wish I could understand you." But he can't, and so he just continues to play with them a little bit. He grins over to Dahlia and says, "Alright. Damien, Crowley, and .. whatever Declan decides to call the other one." He shrugs his shoulders and says "Maybe, maybe not. I mean, animals mature way faster than people do. They could already be like talking to a seven or eight year old person at this point. We don't really know how old they are."

"Mew," says little Crowley and looks up at Dahlia with big blue kitten eyes. Then he yawns, displaying an amazing amount of pink mouth and white teeth, and curls up to tuck his stumpy little tail over his nose.

The last mackerel tabby kitten cants its head and watches both humans curiously. "Mew?"

Dahlia set Crowley down carefully back and then picked up the as yet unnamed one. Even if they couldn't understand the kitties, she felt like the kitties understood them on some level. "You're gonna get a name before the night is over. Declan's going to name you." She assured it. Then looked to Justin. "You're right. They might be older than they look." She cuddles the nameless kitten for a few extra moments before placing him back as well.

Justin scritches behind the ears of the as-yet-to-be-named kitten and nods to Dahlia. "We should see if Aidan can understand them, see what it is that they are saying, if anything. I mean, they could just be hungry for all we know." For SOULS. He bumps shoulders with her and then grins when she sets the last kitten back down. "They are pretty cute, regardless. I think you did the right thing by taking them in, at least for now. Let me know what Ruiz says, hm?"

As embodiments of evil go, these three little demons seem pretty -- well, not very evil. They're just little piles of fur, piled on top of each other and purring loudly and happily at each other's presence. There is something inherently happy about well fed, content little cats napping after a long day of playing, clawing things up, taking a few literal bites out of the woodwork of the play pen, and plotting on how to familiarise themselves with the thing here that leaves interesting scents of bigger animal.

Kitten With No Name (who is indeed in from the rain) seems content with the promise of being named later. It may be entirely coincidental -- after all, cats do not understand human speech. It may not be -- this is Grey Harbor, and stranger things have walked down Main Street trying to hail an Uber. For now, at least, these little balls of potential evil aren't dangerous to anything or anyone but their chew toys.

Those, however, suffer.

"Yeah I'll text him later and ask if he meant literal cat talking and if he could talk to them." She agreed. "Maybe...maybe I need to upgrade them to chicken. That's a little sturdier than fish..." Chewier at least. Maybe it would satisfy any urges? Dahlia ponders on that a moment. Ugh, they were too fucking cute. "And yeah, of course. I'll let you know. I think I'm going to have him come over and actually see them."

"Probably a good idea," Justin agrees with a little sidelong grin. "I mean, anything that might help, right? If he can figure something out, it's worth giving it a shot." He then watches the little sleepy fluff balls curl up on each other in a pile and doze, as kittens are wont to do in the late afternoons before they get the zoomies in the evening.

(TXT to Aidan) Dahlia : Hey, it's Dahlia from the other day. With the kittens. Question. When you said you talked to house cats before, did you mean that literally?

(TXT to Dahlia) Aidan : oh hey. everything going okay with them? did you talk to your cop dude? and i talk to them literally sometimes but most of them answer back more loosely? usually they aren't big on words exactly but i get images and concepts and emotions back usually.

(TXT to Aidan) Dahlia : Haven't talked to him just yet. Next on my list. But I didn't think to ask you when we talked before...do you think you could try talking them? Maybe they would be able to give some kind of images or something different to what we saw from the black cat?

(TXT to Dahlia) Aidan : oh! sure, i could give that a try. good idea!

(TXT to Aidan) Dahlia : Sweet! <inserts address> Feel free to drop by whenever, if I'm not around typically someone is.

(TXT to Dahlia) Aidan : send me the address? and do you need any stuff? like catnip or tuna or anything?

(TXT to Aidan) Dahlia : (inserts address). Yeah I guess that would be helpful lol. I wouldn't turn down more tuna...and maybe some like...wooden blocks or twigs or something? They like to chew.

(TXT to Dahlia) Aidan : tuna and chewy things. pretty sure i can find that! see you in a bit then.

The house was a modest one story not too far off from the beach. The front door was open, screen door closed to allow a nice little breeze roll through while the unkittens snoozed. Dahlia and Justin were just hanging out on the couch after her text exchange with Aidan, waiting for the magician to arrive.

It is indeed 'a bit' before Aidan arrives; not a hugely long time, given there isn't THAT much city to cross, but long enough for him to arrive with a Safeway bag containing several cans of tuna, a few of cat food that declares itself to be a special treat, and three hardy-looking toy bones for puppies, Chicken flavoured, they claim, and the cats can't read the 'puppy' part, right?

It's pleasantly warm but not too hot today, and he's wearing red plaid trousers with black Docs and a pair of black suspenders that aren't currently suspending anything but themselves and maybe not doing the most amazing job of that, along with big round white plastic sunglasses and a black t-shirt with a pulp-style illustration proclaiming that ALIENS GAVE MY CAT A BEARD!

At the open door, he peers briefly through the screen, and as it's hard to make things out clearly with the shades and the position and the sun and all, then knocks on the screen's frame. "Hey! Um. I brought the things. Which is gonna sound really weird if I went to the wrong place."

Dahlia looked up, hearing Aidan and grinned. "Come on in!" She called, shifting to stand up and meet him at the door. "Thanks for comin' by." She would close the door proper once Aidan was inside. "And thanks for the donation." She nodded to the bag and chuckled, leading him over to the living area where a makeshift enclosure had been made - separate from their typical one - so the kittens could snooze in the livingroom but still be contained a bit.

Three little mackerel tabby heads perk up. Bag? Interesting things come in bags.

Aidan brings an interesting bag! Well, okay, the actual bag is pretty boring, particularly compared to the non-shopping-bag ones he owns, but alas you can't demand too much in the way of style from Safeway. "No problem," he replies to the thanks, starting to open the door and handing it over to Dahlia when she seems inclined to take it, and he steps in, taking a better look around -- and after pushing his sunglasses up onto his curls, a more effective better look around. It's pretty swiftly arrested by the little kitten-heads as he follows to the living room, and he moves toward the enclosure to look closer. "They look like they take after their dad." They can only hope, really.

"Yeah they do. I mean. They seem harmless aside the excessive chewing and stuff. So I'm hoping maybe if they can talk they'll have some insight. Maybe?" She sets the bag down on the kitchen counter and comes back with one of the bones. "This was a good idea. Hadn't even thought of going for the dog treat things." Dahlia flashed a bit of a grin and then set the bone inside the enclosure. "Alright, let's see how y'all like that."

Mew?

MEW!

Now, take the Discovery Channel. Or Animal Planet. National Geographic. Nature World. Any of those. At some point there'll be a special or a showcase on the Amazon River. It'll mention pink dolphins that some people think are river spirits that abduct and impregnate young women. But more importantly, it will inevitably mention piranhas.

And that's what the kitten pen looks like right now. Piranhas. In a feeding frenzy. Teeth, everywhere. Bone fragments, everywhere. A whirlwind of kitten-y death.

The bone is gone entirely too soon. But the three little rascals are wearing huge grins the way only cats can. The way that says we are awesome and this was FUN. Nylon bones are not supposed to disappear that quick.

Let's see indeed-- and they do.

Aidan stops short, still a couple steps away, as the bone goes in and then goes away, his eyes widening considerably. "'kay, kinda having second thoughts about letting them sniff my hand now," he admits, staring at the flurry of shreds of nylon. Nylon bones are not supposed to disappear at all, really, and these, while puppy-sized (or perhaps 'very small dog' sized) claimed to be for 'aggressive chewers'. "Um. Do we know how strong their teeth are? 'cause like. I could find some steel pipes or something? Only if they break teeth and have to go to the vet--" He breaks off. "Actually, I guess I could prolly get them healing if they did... maybe. Still though."

He pauses, shaking his head, and then takes a somewhat more ginger step toward them and crouches down outside the pen. "Heyyy, kitten-kits," he murmurs to them, but it's really only the way any human talks to cats so far. The flare of power that might be sensed is directed otherwise, a strong focus on trying to understand them in a different way, first. His eyes are somewhat narrowed as he regards them, and then there's a faint nod, and he slowly lowers a hand in to let them sniff it if they like. "They're kittens," he says, which one might well feel is a great example of Ford Prefect's observation regarding the tendency of humans to constantly state the obvious, though he follows it up with, "I mean, they're kittens, they really are, just-- they're kittens with the spark, like if cats could get born with it too? Which. I mean I don't know they can't, actually. But these guys kinda feel a little more like they were given it somehow, like maybe it's not totally born-with. It's all-- it's the flavour I think of as 'space'. You know, knowing where stuff is, moving it around, that kinda thing. It's just kinda... underneath being kittens."

And, that ascertained, he moves on to The Original Plan. "How's it going?" he asks them, and this time it does come along with another flare of power, his mind reaching out toward theirs to make contact, starting much as the physical version did: taking a look, then offering a metaphorical hand to sniff as he moves in to check them out in turn.

Dahlia stares as the kittens tear through the bone as easily as a tornado running over an wooden shack. "Jesus..." she breathed out. She nodded a bit, listening to Aidan. "You're not wrong. I mean they are totally normal kittens besides the...Glimmer stuff and the teeth. So I feel like you're right in that either they were born with it ornitnwas given to them. But they wouldn't know that right?"

The surface thoughts of the three mackerel piranhas are gleeful. They enjoyed murderising the supposedly un-shreddable bone -- and part of the mystery there is that they very obviously think of it as a bone bone. Bone is organic material, bone can be shredded by sharp teeth and thus -- the bone got shredded. They haven't made the whole 'this is not something you should be able to tear' connection and hence, it does not seem to apply.

Must be nice, only having the laws of physics apply if someone actually remembers to tell you that they exist.

They are happy kittens. They are well fed and cared for kittens. They like the humans. They like their pen -- it is a safe, well explored place and sure -- some day they decide they're ready to leave it they're absolutely going to chew right through the fence and go exploring outside, but right now? Pen is good, pen is safe.

They have names. Names are good. Names make kittens more real.

Real.

It's hard, for someone touching little undefended minds with such ease, to not pick up on that particular sensation. It's a very important sensation.

Real matters.

The little monsters aren't quite convinced that they are real. But getting names and being treated like kittens -- makes you a kitten. Right?

Right, Pinocchio?

Someday, I'll be a real kitten...

Aidan regards the kittens thoughtfully, brow furrowed as he pets their little heads with his fingertips and their little minds with his own. "Names are good," he murmurs, just loud enough to be somewhere between agreement with their impression and a remark intended for Dahlia. "Nah, I don't think they know. Kinda don't get the feeling they know anything about that kinda thing," he says, that much more clearly the latter. "They should have little collars. With tags, with their names. And the address they should go back to if someone found them. 'cause that's what kittens should have."

He looks up from them, to her instead. "They know you named them, but I don't think they understand what we say otherwise. But. They want to be real kittens. Which, I mean. They are." You know. Aside from the magic and the teeth. "But the more you treat them like it, the more they feel like it too, and I think that... matters." A smile, suddenly. "They like you guys. They like it here. And they feel safe in there. I think..." he tilts his head, "I think maybe the more their world says kitten the better? And they killed that bone 'cause they know they can destroy bones, they dunno they shouldn't be able to do that one. So I'm not sure how to..."

Trailing off, he looks at the kittens again, then rises to his feet, going to the bag and taking out another of the nylon bones. The three came in different colours, one white, one medium brown, and one darker brown. The white one is now shreds, but he picks up the lighter of the other two and brings it back. Instead of dropping it in immediately, though, he crouches down by the pen again, and... bites the thing. Nothing happens to it, of course, and he exaggerates that slightly, trying to send them an impression of how this is different from real bone, how it's much harder and teeth can't destroy it like they could a real bone. How little kittens could enjoy gnawing on this for a while. And then he tries dropping it in.

Dahlia watched with anticipation, listening closely when Aidan started talking. "So.. they're like those pixies from Peter Pan? If you don't believe in them, they fade away?" Dahlia speculated. "Or. Well. Something like that...on the other hand. If we continue to treat them like kittens maybe they will actually becomennormal kittens." She shifts in her spot, kneeling down again near the enclosure to see how the kittens react to this demonstration by Aidan.

Three little heads cant in an almost puppy-like fashion as the three little mackerels clearly try to figure out what it is Aidan is trying to tell them. Whatever they are -- actually are -- they have obviously sorted that much out: The humans are trying to communicate. It's a pity that humans are so bad at it, but this statement is one that will be supported by cats worldwide, whether they came out of the Veil or not.

Then there is bone.

Glee!

And yet, they chew on it a little more tentatively. Almost as if somehow, this one is a little harder to destroy. Sometimes, they glance at Aidan, almost questioningly. There is something to be learned here, and the furry little monsters are trying.

"I..." Aidan has to think about this one for a moment. "I think it's maybe more about what they believe? And I dunno if they'd fade away or... or become something else. But it's important, being real. That much I'm pretty sure about."

He watches hopefully as the go for this bone, and brightens a touch as it does not get instantly destroyed like its predecessor. The more tentative chewing gets a feeling shared, one of approval and affection from his direction, and he tries to give them a bit of extra satisfaction and enjoyment in this less efficient sort of chewing they've discovered. Real kitten chewing. "Good kittens." He also reaches in and give them some little pettings, though that has as much to do with the fact that they're cute and soft as any more focused intention. They may not have the hang of all of it yet, but in some ways at least, they're doing a fantastic job of being, well, kittens. And as for the rest... it's a start.