2022-01-02 - Looking For Kitty Pryde Approval

Walking away from Jules and back towards Ravn's place, Isi trails along behind. Her posture is stiff - she doesn't relax much these days. "I was hoping I could ask you - well, Kitty Pryde's help. Yours as cat translator. I keep thinking about a dog - but it needs to bet he kind that can take the unexpected shit and be able to come with me places. So I figured your cat might have an opinion."

Isi reaches into her purse to pull out a wrapped fish. "I brought a bribe."

"Bribes get you very far with Kitty Pryde," Ravn agrees and nods. "And she's certainly -- smarter than your average cat. Whatever the Veil did to her during the process of sort of copying her, it left marks. She hates being stuffed into a transporter, though, so you're going to have to convince her to come willingly. I like having hands and a face, and she's still not forgiven me for getting her spayed."

"The dog I want needs to be able to look at her and not lose its shit, but also bite someone else in the face if they get too close to my door."

Isi's just asking for the moon right now. "Figure Pryde is probably the closest to Veil crazy I can summon on demand," and then she looks up at the sky and yells, "THAT WAS NOT AN INVITATION."

Ravn cannot not chuckle. It's a hilarious thing to see, the girl shouting at the sky. And at the same time, he can also not call her silly because this is exactly the kind of town where you understand how the expression 'knock on wood' came about. Or 'tempting fate' or indeed, 'hubris'. You learn to be very careful what you wish for, in a town like this.

"I suggest we ask her. Or well, that you ask her -- if I do, the answer will be an obstinate no. In case you haven't noticed, she doesn't like men very much at all." The Dane shrugs; it would not be entirely out of place to ask why the hell he keeps that cat.

She's not hard to find, at least. Right in the middle of No 3's open kitchen area, soundly asleep in the fruit basket. And of course, every piece of fruit that should be in the fruit basket, are on the floor. Cat shui.

"I avoid her, she doesn't fuck with me," Isi replies, a commentary on how she generally deals with the cat.

In she goes and the fish starts to be unwrap the fish. "Miss Pryde." formally, "I have brought you a treat and have a request."

Even quieter towards Ravn, "I'm talking to a cat." WTF is wrong with her where her life has led her?

Kitty Pryde opens yellow-green eyes and looks at Isi. She understands part of this -- fish is a good word. And Isi is a female, which is good. And also, she's a bossy female to judge from the way she moves, and Kitty Pryde likes bossy people who will give her a proper fight. She gets up and does that cat stretch where first the head goes up and then the butt and ---------------- snappety snap, there it is.

Then she hops off the counter and pretzels around Isi's legs because fish.

"I talk to cats all the time," Ravn says with some amusement, watching the display. "Of course, in the mind scape, I am one. Maybe that's why I tend to feel like they're just extended cousins."

Fish is a good word. Isi unwraps said fish. It's a nice big locally-caught filet all deboned but still on-skin. Not cooked, because... why.

"I was hoping for your help. You get a fish now, then you let Ravn carry you to help me find a dog who isn't afraid of you, and then you get another one of your choosing."

Why yes, Ravn is being voluentold into this. First visiting the shelter and then going to a fish stall.

The cat eyes both. She thinks.

She eats her fish. Because humans can wait.

Then she licks her paws and thinks.

"I'm thinking you'll want something of a decent size," Ravn says meanwhile. "Not necessarily a dobermann or Irish wolfhound but, not a handbag dog, either. You want something that ultimately you can let go of the leash and know it will survive until morning, rather than promptly run off to get eaten by the nearest squirrel."

Her Majesty Pryde can just keep thinking, Isi will split her attention between the cat and Ravn. She nods in agreement. "I want something that can lay in my bed at night and murder anything that comes through my doorway, but intelligent enough I can train to come with me."

Does City Hall know its about to become a dog-friendly workplace?

Ravn looks down at the cat. "Just keep in mind -- attachment to something also means you become vulnerable. I'm not saying you shouldn't. Just, I wasn't joking when I told Jules that a crack in the armour will be used. Now that they know she's got anger management issues about colonial times? It's going to hit her in spades sometime. Just like I get hit with guilt, and with reminders how badly I function in some social contexts. I told you about having to kiss the Chief, and about getting tossed into gender swaps, right?"

"Yeah well. I won't get attached then." Isi, telling lies to herself since... forever. "I think you mentioned them. Sorry about that one," she at least knows about the Maid Marian kind of thing. "Worst that could happen is I don't find anything."

"Wrong," Ravn murmurs and his lip actually twitches because the idea that just struck him is awful, outright terrible -- and hence, it's probably been on the table as far as the Veil is concerned. "You could end up with a damn hell hound like me. Or well, like my family. He is pretty harmless. Unless you threaten Engelsholm. That's his to destroy, and some day, he will -- that's the prophesy about him."

Then he shakes his head. "The gender swap thing was a hit and miss. I just thought that was funny. But I'm not blind to what the Veil was hoping I'd react like, you know?"

"... do you have any idea how much I wouldn't mind a creature that could utterly annihilate people who want to kill me? " Isi replies wistfully. Scary as a hell hound would be... it would be a nice companion. "Save on the heating bill anyway."

"You'd need to employ a maid and task her to make the dog bed in the tower every day on pain of the house gets torn down if she forgets, though." Ravn smirks a little. "He doesn't care about us, though -- only about the castle. Probably turned up in that dream to warn us because he didn't want the Germans to expropriate it for local headquarters on some flimsy excuse."

He shrugs into his leather jacket and then squats down in front of Kitty Pryde, who daintily licks her chops. "You heard Isi. And I know you understand most of what I say, so let's go do this. If you're lucky, maybe you get to claw the face off some over-nosy chihuahua."

Kitty Pryde looks at him and then slowly extends her claws, one by one before looking at her plate. Tuna, chihuahua, it's all good eating.

"My place didn't have a tower and let's be honest, if my neighbor keeps smoking near the vents I wouldn't mind if something chased them off..."

'I can't tell if that is a good sign or a bad sign." Isi replies, eyeing the cat before them. Ravn talking to the cat has her reflecting on how of course her life has gotten.

"If the family curse ever decides he wants to see other parts of the world I'll give him your address." Ravn chuckles. "I'd actually never seen him before. But I knew he was there -- after all, Engelsholm is full of ghost stories so why should that one not be real? And there is a crack in one of the outer walls, from that morning a maid forgot to make his bed."

He stands and heads for the door. And sure enough, Kitty Pryde strolls after, tail high, expression on her face saying something along the lines of that chihuahua better be tasty.

Sometimes, that cat doesn't even try very hard to pretend to be a normal cat anymore. Hanging around with its Veil clone, Kailey Holt's Uncat, is having a bad influence on her.

"Do you have an appointment at a shelter? I have never actually visited one here. And how are you with motorcycles? Might be easiest if we take mine and the side car -- you fed Kitty tuna, so she will likely tolerate sharing it with you."

Why, yes, he's the kind of guy who goes for rides with his cat.

This is Gray Harbor, there are weirder things about then a dandy of a foreigner taking his cat about in a two wheeled vehicle.

Isi shakes her head at the appointment question. "Website says they take walk-ins. Show up and they will let you look around."

She follows then outside and looks the bike over with ill-hidden desire. Yes. Yes she does want to ride in the pretty bike. Not the side car but... take what one can get. "Sure, but I am sending her and medical bills after from claws."

Ravn pauses in readying the bike to toss Isi a crash helmet and an amused look. "Do you really want her to pay it in dead squirrels, mice, and Veil bugs? Because that's how she pays rent here."

Kitty gets the side car. And if Isi'd rather sit behind Ravn, he has no objections. And why would he? Hands around his waist are not an unexpected surprise touch. And if the image of two people on the vintage motorcycle and the black cat sitting regally in the side car is one of those that belong on a weird shit people do with cats website, so be it.

At least the cat looks like this is perfectly normal. Look, she's even got a plush mousie in the side car. Maybe she likes to pretend she has a passenger, too.

Isi eyes Kitty Pryde - AND the claws she has. "Yeah, I'm gonna give her her space - can I sit behind you instead?"

Also, much better experience. MUCH BETTER EXPERIENCE. Who doesn't want to ride the sexy motorcycle. "Will it hurt you?" Seriously, she doesn't know how his nephropathy works.

"Not when I know you're taking hold of me and holding on, no. It's when I don't know that my nerve system acts up. A surprise hug is not a good surprise -- but one where I see it coming is fine. It's difficult to explain." Ravn swings a leg over the slender engine -- and compared to many more modern designs, the '63 Triumph Bonneville is slender. She is built to get you somewhere -- not to look macho and powerful while doing it.

"Put on your helmet and hop up. I have yet to find a Kitty Pryde-sized helmet and I doubt she'd let me put on her -- but then, I don't drive like a madman anyhow."

"It's a bike - doesn't just riding it count as being a madman?" Serious question though. Isi puts the helmet on and approaches the bike carefully. And also says, "I'm going to touch you now," waits for a breath and then touches.

Because if warning is what is needed, then she'll fucking WARN HIM. She's less comfortable on the back of the bike than Ravn is, but some things are generally no-duh. Arms around waist, attempt to relax.

"I suppose that depends on how you drive. People ride horses too -- at least Lola Bianca won't spook at the sight of a loose plastic bag." Ravn does hesitate for a second -- but it might be more that he's just not really accustomed to be physically close to anyone. Once Isi's hands settle on his waist they don't seem to bother him.

As it turns out, he is a careful driver. Well within the speed limit and keeping his distance to other vehicles -- and there, in the side car, her little black majesty just preens. Hers is the town and the kingdom, and the personal chauffeur.

If Ravn keeps personifying his bike the Veil is going to take that as carte blanche to fuck with him. There are going to be SCENES.

Once they start driving Isi keeps her mouth shut. A) Bugs are only acceptable if they've been through a proper sanitation process, yes, chocolate covered crickets ARE good, b) don't distract the driver of the death machine, even if said death machine is apparently sexy.

At the curves Isi's grip tightens but she forces herself to breath, relax, and by the time they've gotten to the end she's almost leaning into the turns with him. Almost.

But Gray Harbor isn't all that big, so they arrive soon enough and Isi gets herself off the bike post haste and eyes Kitty Pryde. "I don't think they're going to let her just waltz in there."

"Are we assuming they get to tell her what to do? Because that never worked for me." Ravn can't help a grin as he pulls the motorcycle up and lets Isi climb off before he swings his own leg back over the saddle.

In the sidecar the cat stands, and then stretches herself -- nose all the way up, and then reverse, butt in the air aaaaaand there is the snap crackle pop of her spine. Then, with the dainty air of an ego the size of Washington State, she hops out of the car and wanders along. Apparently staying close to Ravn is a thing. It's a better thing than getting picked up, anyway.

And never say that Gray Harbor is not weird. Ravn squats down and looks the feline straight in her yellow-green eyes. "Now, there's going to animals in cages in there, and it's okay. This is not a kill shelter, like the one some of your kittens ended up in. We do not need to free them all this time, all right?"

".... there is a story there I want the details of some time." Isi says, eyeing Kitty Pryde. Also, very prudently not pointing out that if animals would just curb their fucking there wouldn't be a need for kill shelters. cough

"I'm looking for a dog that a) you approve of Pryde, b) is big enough to scare people and c) can be trained to at least an emotional support animal level so I can bring it to work with me." Reasonable criteria?

"Mew," says Kitty Pryde. Though whether that means 'gotcha' or 'fuck you, what am I, a canine dating app' is anyone's guess. She was promised more tuna -- and possibly, a chihuahua.

She follows on Ravn's heel as they enter, that's something. "I'd pick her up," he tells Isi. "But I've tried that just a few times, and each time, she's very firmly let me know that our relationship is strictly platonic."

"She can jump on my shoulder or something if she promises to spare the face." Isi offers the cat. She makes it to the doorway before Ravn (actually, she picks up her pace a few steps to make sure she does it because fuck make chivalry) and holds it open for him and the cat.

They're immediately presented with someone at the desk. "We're looking to maybe - I'm looking," fix that, Ravn's not getting a dog here, "to adopt a dog. It needs to be good with cats." There's a glance at Kitty Pryde for this, "And I'm looking for something bigger."

Sorry, no Chihuahua's Kitty.

It's not difficult to find Kitty Pryde. She's sitting on Isi's shoulder. Isi likes being a dick to Ravn too. They're new best friends, bonding over a mutual hobby.

The receptionist looks up. "We usually keep pets on leashes here."

"She's a service animal," Ravn says quickly.

"If she's a service animal, where is her little coat?" Sharp, this one.

"It gets stuck in the side car of my bike outside," the Dane tells her. "It's probably still in there. I can go look if you like."

Send the handsome bloke out and keep the loose cat. Nah. The receptionist sniffs. "Well, I suppose you can go in. But don't you blame me when the dogs make a ruckus."

"Seriously - mind the face, okay?" Isi murmurs to Kitty Pryde upon her shoulder. The prick of the claws in her shoulder NECESSITATES that particular reminder being given. "I should've worn a bigger sweater."

This conversation happens while Ravn is talking to the person at the desk. Ten points to Ravn for dealing with her.

Around the corner they go to be met at the locked doorway leading back to the Kennels. There they are met with a man aptly named 'Ken' on his name badge. (Look, creativity is overrated.) "So we're looking for a bigger dog huh? You have some land it can run around on?"

Ken cares about the animals he's taking care of here.

Isi shakes her head. "No, but I'm hoping to train them up into some kind of emotional service animal - so they'll come to me with work and stuff. So - something smart." A glance at her shoulder. "And likes cats."

In all bureaucracies one must repeat oneself often.

So many mutts.

Probably not more than some ten or fifteen but to anyone with a bit of empathy for the plight of unwanted animals, it's so many mutts. At least it's not a small pets shelter, Ravn tells himself because he read about the mass exodus from that one -- a veritable jailbreak, lead by kittens -- and while he never went and told anyone official anything about it, he did the math. It wasn't Kitty Pryde's doing -- but it sure as well involved some of her many Veil-cloned kittens.

"I don't think we're looking for any particular breed or type, are we? Maybe something more shepherd dog than hunter -- we need it to have a guarding instinct after all."

Isi is utterly ignorant of any past Pet Jail Breaks. She glances at Ravn when he adds that bit in particular. "But with big teeth. If possible. And.... not a puppy. I couldn't take it to work till it can hold it's shit."

Ken looks between the two and then directly at Kitty Pryde on Isi's shoulder. There's some calculation that goes on before he scratches his chin and leads the way past a few empty kennels and one very sweet looking white dog stopping before a large dog with brown and black markings. "This here is Count."

The dog is curled up at the back of the kennel, facing the front where the dangerous people are.

"I like the name," Ravn murmurs for some reason.

He looks at the dog and at the woman; it's how they react to one another that matters, after all -- not what he thinks.

And on Isi's shoulder, Kitty Pryde somehow manages to twist feline features into a veritable smirk. Maybe she can tell how confusing that's going to be, too.

"... maybe you should adopt him." Isi replies under her breath at Ravn, only to have Kitty Pryde jam her claws deeply into her shoulder. "Ow, fuck, okay, sorry."

Ow.

"Let's take him outside for a bit?" Isi replies, because she's not super impressed by the curled up creature at the back of the cage. Ken goes and gets Count though, and brings him out to a run outside. Balls and other toys are provided and Pryde is able to make a THROUGH investigation.

On the way back inside, "He's really sweet, but a bit shy." Yes, she already loves Count, THIS IS THE PROBLEM WITH SHELTERS. All the love, not enough room at home.

On they move to the next one. "Olivia's great if you are an outdoors kind of person, she loves anything that lets her run off-leash, not that I said that." Ken puts in quickly. Responsible dog owners should only let their dogs off leash at the appropriate dog parks.

"She's got a kinder look," Ravn observes. "I don't know whether that's a good thing for your purpose. She's got enough German Shepherd in her to scare the right kind of people still, at least."

"Meow," says Kitty Pryde. So far she seems to think that her job consists in riding Isi's shoulder and vetoing any canines moving into 3, Oak Avenue. To be fair, she's got a point -- the Vagabond is far too small for a man, a cat, and a large dog that needs to run.

Olivia is way more interested in Isi coming to the doorway. She doesn't pay a LICK of attention to the cat on Isi's shoulder. Cat stays up there, dog stays down here - honestly, this is as it should be for her mind.

There's a slight nod as they exit - Olivia doesn't get taken outside alas. "I think you're right. But you're a sweetheart though," one last pat before they go out.

"Do you have any that have more German int hem?" Small hopeful look on Isi's face. There's nothing quite like German Shepard to make people shit their pants, except for maybe a pit bull. Poor dogs.

Ken leads the way to a kennel a few more down, passing Kitty Pryde's Chihuahua on the way. "This here is Elsa. Had a good owner - but a foreclosure and they couldn't keep her any more."

"She's purebred or as close as you get in a mutt," Ravn observes -- the breed is quite common where he's from. "I'm surprised she's up for adoption rather than sale."

Behind them, a chihuahua whimpers and flattens itself in its cage; it already has visions of being torn apart, and it does not know why.

"Owner surrendered her - can't say if she's pure bred, owner got her from a friend rather than an actual breeder." Ken takes it upon himself to talk to Ravn as Isi moves forward towards the cage.

Elsa trots right up to the edge of the cage and looks upwards at both Isi and Kitty Pryde, head cocked sideways and one ear turning inside out. CLOSE consideration is given and a small 'woof!' towards Pride. Clearly, she knows who she needs to impress best in this arrangement.

Inside the door Isi and Kitty go, and it doesn't take Isi long to take Elsa out to the run though, and a serious game of 'ball please' begins.

"I think those two might be a match made in heaven," Ravn tells Ken -- and whether he's talking of Elsa and Isi or Elsa and Kitty Pryde is anyone's guess. Elsa is a gorgeous animal -- and like most members of her breed, simultaneously beautiful and friendly, and potentially capable of making you regret you were ever born. "Had a friend once who bred Sheps. Told me they're great family dogs -- until you bother their family, at which point you're reminded why the Nazis loved them. Highly intelligent, love learning things and earning praise. That one might be just what Isi's looking for."

And she is gorgeous. The colours and the graceful build, bringing to mind the wolves of the dawn of time, joining up with humans because the combined power of canine nose and opposable thumbs was made of pure win in the race for survival.

Pryde will probably have to find another place to hang out because Isi's getting very active with the dog. It is clear there is a lot of work still to be done in training, but for a starting point they hit it off.

Only once they are both totally winded does the play time wind down. Ravn will see a smile Isi hasn't worn since coming to Gray Harbor- it lacks all of the fear of the last few months and none of the sarcastic bitterness of the rest of her life.

"What do I have to do?" She says after a reluctant good-bye to Elsa. This isn't the type of shelter where one walks in and walks out with a dog. There are CHECKS.

That's not a bad feeling. It's not his doing, obviously, but Ravn still allows himself a small smile at Isi's open, unguarded joy. He could tell her to not get too attached, to not get too happy because it will attract attention -- but he won't. That's what the HOPE Centre is all about too, after all -- lighting up the shroud of gloom that blankets Gray Harbor with kindness and joy. Bending one's neck and sinking into the kind of existential depression that a number of locals have adopted as a coping mechanism is not an option as far as the folklorist is concerned; living in the spiritual equivalent of an old Soviet vassal state is not on the table -- make life worth it. Or, you know, leave.

Kitty Pryde sits at his feet. Occasionally she looks up at her 'owner' as if to say, you're a sappy idiot.

The cat is right- Sappy idiots all around. It takes a half hour for Ken to run through everything Isi has to do to take ownership of Elsa, as well as sign all the preliminary paperwork.

She does something curious with the number, instead of her landlord she puts Ravn. Walking out she looks sheepish. "I should have asked you first, but my landlord doesn't pick up the phone. She's a bitch who doesn't care. It's not like a dog could ruin the place more and my lease is up in two months. If I need to figure out a way to move... I will."

Because she IS bringing Elsa home.

"I don't mind," Ravn says quietly. "It's Gray Harbor -- we need to have each other's backs. And if something does happen -- people do disappear around here, for a few days or for a decade. You need to know someone'd look after Elsa, just like I know Aidan would look after Kitty Pryde."

Kitty Pryde looks up and scoffs. Kitty Pryde looks after Kitty Pryde, thank you very much.

The Dane grins a little. "I'm not a dog person. But I'm also not a dog hating person, and of course I'd go look out for her, and get her somewhere safe if something was to happen to you."

"Thanks - I'd hug you right now, but I'm not going to hug you."

Isi's clutching those papers in her hand like they're the lifeline that if she lets go she's just going to FLAP into deadzone.

"I'll ask Alexander too -because he's closer and is a soft touch with his pair. Did you hear someone kidnapped his pets? That's fucking low - even lower than my shit." There a hint that Isi's going to be very angry with anyone who tries to kidnap her dog.

Nevermind it's not her dog yet. It WILL BE if Isi has to go steal the creature. Which would be bad, Isi's not a thief.

"I didn't hear that. Were they found? Because that's -- very low, and also, frankly not really the Veil's style." Ravn frowns. "I wouldn't say anything's too sacred for even the Veil but I think the Others don't have as much power over animals as they do over us. Just -- a gut feeling. Anyhow, they tend to not involve animals and pets in these things a whole lot."

He ponders. "Maybe it's something worth considering for HOPE, too. A kind of quiet check list on Friendzone, maybe? Just say 'hi' once a week and we know to not go burgle your house and look for your dogs."

"He did it had something to do with one of his investigations. At this point I'm not as worried about the veil as I am about fucking.... people." At least all of Isi's veil injures have not sent her to the hospital- THAT WAS NOT AN INVITATION VEIL.

"A phone tree?" Isi asks, then describes a way that everyone gets contacted about stuff. One person contacts x who then does Y and so forth. If someone doesn't respond another someone is dispatched to check on them in person. "We had something of the sort back home. Desperation... does stuff."

And now that smile is gone.

"That's not a bad idea." Ravn nods and smiles a little. "Let's get something like that running. It'd help some of us to feel -- well, less at the mercy of things. Veil things and people things. I haven't forgotten that the thing in Gray Harbor that's come closest to taking me out was a sniper aiming for the Chief and thinking I was him."

He looks back at the dog. "Do you get to take her home today? We might have to walk, then, I don't think we can teach her to ride in the side car just like that."

WAIT. Did Isi just volunteer herself to make up a call tree? Woops. But even as she opens her mouth to go 'but no' instead a weird, "Okay," comes out instead. Seriously, someone check for possession.

But looking back at the shelter, Isi shakes her head. "No, I have a checkklist," she waves the paperwork handed to her, "of things I need to get figured out, they need to call my landlord... er, you," it's fine, it's only mostly illegal, "and my references. I put down Dita and Alexander... A dog bowl, food, - shit there's a lot. But I'm going to do it. All of it."

(TXT to Perdita Alexander) Isi : I put you two down as references that I'm not a total psychopath for a dog I want to adopt. Is that okay? I should have asked before...

(TXT to Perdita Isi) Alexander : I will agree that you're not a total psychopath. What sort of dog?

(TXT to Alexander Isi) Ravn : Kitty Pryde approved dog.

(TXT to Alexander Isi) Ravn : [snap of black cat staring at a German Shepherd like she's contemplating what it'd taste like, dipped in garlic sauce]

(TXT to Isi Ravn) Alexander : German Shepherds are good dogs.

(TXT to Perdita Alexander) Isi : picture Her name is Elsa!

(TXT to Alexander Isi) Ravn : I voted for Count but I was out-voted two to one.

(TXT to Alexander Isi) Ravn : [snap of boxer mix]

(TXT to Perdita Alexander) Isi : picture of count I liked him too.

So so so much texting before Isi looks up. "Seriously - you, and Kitty Pryde," can't forget the cat, "I owe you."

Specifically Tuna for Kitty, but Ravn is innumerable.

(TXT to Perdita Isi) Alexander : Also a Good Dog. :dog emoji:

"Don't worry, she will not let you forget." Ravn glances down at the cat who in turn looks at Isi like she's updating a mental scoreboard. In another life, Kitty Pryde would have made one hell of an accountant. Or mafia boss.

He grins at Isi. "Well, let's go shopping for Elsa, then. You're going to need a cyan blanket for her basket. With a name like that, there's no way around the cyan."

"You're not going to Let It Go, are you?" Isi replies, that smile creeping back into place. Then BACK ONTO THE BIKE.

But first, a nice fresh fish sheller so that Kitty Pryde can pick out her own prize. Gotta reward the cat who was kind enough to come on this adventure. She can sit and eat it while Ravn and Isi ooh and ahhh over new things and Isi's credit card gets a work out. IT's fine.