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EmeraldFox

KingsRown Arms (Light Rp Pub)

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Libra turned as the feline woman came in. Catching a glance at the corner and seeing sparkle, she suppressed a groan. Looking at the young woman, she stood up. "Paul, I will be right back." 

 

She stepped outside for a few minutes then walked back in carrying a sundress, small purse and a pair of summer sandals. "You don't look much bigger than my daughter.. adopted... we are her fall family. I keep extra clothes for her in a spatial storage. And the sandals are mine. This will help." She offered the clothes.

 

Turning to Hagis, she lowered her voice. "A Pixie? I  am a mage.. I can feel and hear them... hope she is well behaved."

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Hagis:

"So, Ms....Tabitha, was it? Is yer toe...paw....claw.....foot? Aye, yer foot! Is it all right?" He took a deep gulp of his refill while listening to the answer. "I'm sorry fer that, lass, truly I am. New place an' all, an' here I am leavin' heavy spiked stuff willy-nilly layin' aboot." He put his communicator on the bar with the surveillance video feed going.

 

"I could nae help but overhear what ye said wi' regards ta yer fer fallin' off an' how it would be inopportune. Just want ye ta know, I've got kinda a similar problem. Oh, aye, I do. Ye canna wear a kilt in this town an' fly or jump around wi'out someone writin' up a citation fer public indecency."

 

He shook his head sadly. "Aye, I learned me lesson early. Just sprintin' and trammin' now. At least I made me mistake before high resolution camera phones." A furtive glance up towards the ceiling.

 

He continued, rapidly. "All that aside, lass, could I bother ye ta look at this mug shot? I'm verra interested in findin' this guy fer a talk, preferably in a dark alley. He calls himself Rictus. The barman here says he's seen him running a sect o' tha local Skulls."

 

"Oh, I'm fine.  Honest.   Totally my fault- not looking where I was going."  Tabitha seemed to shrink from the attention- or was it just her diminutive appearance near the burly scotsman.   As Hagis told of the perils of the true kilt-wearer, her tail involuntarily bristled and wrapped tighter against her leg.   Despite doing her best not to imagine it, memories of an old "scotsman" song that the upperclassmen would play on the long bus ride home kept infiltrating her thoughts, leaving her imagining a leaping Hagis exposing a blue ribbon tied to... nevermind. *Purge that thought. BURN IT.*

She tried hard to focus on the picture, stretching to get a good look without getting too close to the hulking frame.  "Rictus?  Latin for open mouth.  Either got that name for always smiling or never shutting up, I bet."   The tattoos are familiar- might be someone I ran into at High Park last week, but it's hard to tell."

 

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She stepped outside for a few minutes then walked back in carrying a sundress, small purse and a pair of summer sandals. "You don't look much bigger than my daughter.. adopted... we are her fall family. I keep extra clothes for her in a spatial storage. And the sandals are mine. This will help." She offered the clothes.


If she could blink out of existence, she would at that moment.  Too much attention, no matter how nice it is, isn't her thing, particularly when it emphasizes her (lack of) attire.

 

Instead, she gave her best graceful smile and accepted the dress.   It was nice lightweight dress with a blue ribbon around the waist (*"see yon sleeping scotsman... DAMN IT!*)   The smile turned into a grimace as she slipped into the dress in much the same way someone with a really REALLY bad sunburn might try to dress. If the dress was made of sandpaper or thumbtacks... or bees.  Lots o Bees.
 

She was still working getting it on, still fumbling with the ribbon (*..tied into a bow.. around the bonnie... STOP THAT!*) when she caught the tail end of the whisper 


 

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...hope she is well behaved."

 

And she bristled.  Even here, the reputation of catgirls precedes her.  She can never get a break



[[OOC:  If you've never heard the old phrase "rubbing a cat the wrong way"- well, it applies triple to Tabby,  Her coat is incredibly sensitive to the touch, so moving when fully clothed can feel like needles brushing against her where they rub against the grain.

Also, if you're unfamiliar with the classic earworm that's got Tabby so flustered:

  
 

Edited by chase

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OOC: Yep, Dr. Demento was part of my childhood soundtrack. Heard that song bunches, although what I remember was a slightly different version. Thanks for this; I'm totally blaming it for the random LOL outbursts while I was at work last night.

 

EmeraldFox: This is my first RP forum. I had great fun with some collaborative round-robin type fanfic on a Highlander: The Series page years ago, and that's what I thought this was. Had a chance now to see that there are differences in the formats, so I'll do my best to not "hijack" the purpose of the bar and turn it into something it's not. I do have some kick-arsery shenanigans planned, though, so I'll make them a separate forum "story" post when the time comes.

 

RP:

Hagis looked worriedly at Libra, then his eyes flicked to the others to see if they had noticed Sparkle. He noticed Tabitha's fur bristling, and took a small involuntary step backwards. Had he been in her personal space? Or was it feline senses and his lack of a shower in going on three...four?...days? And was that throbbing in his temples the beginning of a doozy of a caffeine fueled migraine? Ughhhhhh......

 

All right, first things first. How to answer Libra without upping the jig? Turning his attention back to Tabitha, he said, "Thanks lass. I hope if it was Rictus that ye saw, ye gave him tha what-for."

 

"Libra, Paul's lookin' a mite busy. Did ye say there were darts an' pool tables in tha back?"

 

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She nodded. "I enjoy a good game of pool. But are you up for it? Looks like the lack of sleep is starting to get to you." She glanced at the feline woman and gave a reassuring smile. Turning back to Hagis, she smiled. "But a game sounds good."

 

Following him over to the pool table, she picked out a cue. "I will have to start bringing mine out." She dug into her pockets and pulled out some change. "Want to rack them?"

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Tabby nodded at the two as they left, thankful that the attention had passed but still struggling with the ribbon (*no... don't get started on that song!*)  Normally, she wore gel caps over her claws, keeping them extended and serving as the final joint on her fingers, but she'd left them behind during her afternoon parkour, leaving her either struggling with making knots out of claw-tips or clumsily working without her topmost fingers.   

 

It didn't hurt that her fur was practically standing on end- every brush where the fabric touched felt like a little needle jab... and that's not even mentioning the goddamn giant of a mosquito that she kept feeling buzzing near her- she couldn't see it, but dammit, it caused just enough of a disturbance in the air for her hairs to pick up.    If she wasn't fuddling with the ribbon, she had to stop to swat away at it when it got too close.

 

*damn, this drink better be worth it- which reminds me...*

"So, Paul, do you, uh... have anything you'd recommend?  I'd like to try something new."


Left unsaid, of course, was that ANYTHING would be new to her.   She hadn't touched liquor since she stole one of her dad's bottles of black label the night of everything in her life went wrong.
 

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HAGIS:

Hagis started to say, "Uhm, I really didn't..." but Libra's "I am a mage" comment stopped him short. On his personal "do not do" list is displease a mage, sorcerer, witch, druid, wizard, or any other magic-using entity without good cause. Hagis found the triangular billiard rack and set up the balls. "Ye go ahead an' break, Libra, an' I'll tak a look at tha music selection."

 

He scrolled through the choices, settling on "Tubthumping." As the beat kicked in, he felt a little more vital. He selected his stick and noted that Libra had already sunk two solids and was looking at him expectantly. He sighed, "Well, I can already tell this is gonna be a quick game." He looked around and found a shot on a stripe that was within his ability, with a little luck.

 

"Ye asked about Sparkle, and her behavior. That's a....complicated answer, ta be honest. I dinnae even like havin' her out in tha field, but we learned pretty quick there was no keepin' her locked up in tha' base. Seems like we'd be out on missions or in the middle o' fightin' one baddie or another, an' she'd pop out o' someone's pocket or pack. Even managed ta hide in me beard once." He bent over and took aim, pulled back on the cue, and made solid contact. The stripe glanced off the bumper and stopped an inch shy of Hagis' intended pocket.

 

He grunted and straightened up. "So as head of me SG, I made up a hero registration for her. She canna talk in words, so I had ta get creative with some of it. Includin' her age. Azuria says she could be anywhere between 3 an' 300, which isnae verra helpful. I've tried ta ask War Witch, too, but havna been able ta find her. So if ye got some inking, I'm all ears. All I know is tha she acts verra, verra young."

 

SPARKLE:

Sparkle fly. Sparkle see. See people. See colors. Pretty colors. Red black. Green black. Gray black. Gray fur. Black stripes? Oh! CARD!

 

Cat card! Cat dress? Cat swat! Sparkle fly! Sparkle hear. Hear music. Where music? Music earbud? Music earbud! Sparkle dance! Sparkle headbang! Sparkle moshpit! Oh! CARD!

 

Sparkle fly. Cat swat. Sparkle duck. Card heavy. Money heavy. Sparkle drop. Drop money. Drop card. Sparkle fly. Sparkle see! Big mirror! See Sparkle! Sparkle Sparkle! Sparkle play!

 

(OOC: I realized that I made a mistake with Tabitha's money, in that I said Sparkle picked up a money clip, where Tabitha only lost a folded pad of bills. Instead of retconning, though, I figured I'd keep up with it and maybe lay down a plot hook for later use by anyone. This should fit in with the building's history as an old pawn shop.)

 

RP: There was a clang followed by a splash. On the counter near to Tabitha was an old brass moneyclip. (OOC: If it is investigated by anyone, it will hold several hundred dollars worth of twenties and fifties, none dated later than 1955. The clip itself has the words "To my pal Al, from Spanky" etched into it.)

 

Tabitha's PCU card was floating in Nikeiva's drink.

 

Tubthumping music video:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2H5uWRjFsGc

 

Edited by Hagis
Added video for Tubthumping. May be NSFW depending on where ye work.

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Tabitha studied the other members of the bar, trying to get a feel of the room, and -more importantly- how she should behave.  The sundress discomfort had settled- even after all the years of getting used to school uniforms, the pressure where it rested against her fur was magnified, and she had to concentrate to not keep plucking it away, potentially giving a view of cleavage or down her lower back.   Modesty was a strange thing- she was fine with things being visible when she was wearing nothing, but now that she was covered up, she feared showing even a hint of it.

She was so lost in the introspection that the loud clank caught her off guard.  The hair along her spine had just recently settled, but now rebounded into a full ridge.    Where the sundress met the lower back, the hairs strained against the fabric, giving the feeling that someone had placed a hand there.

Her tail bristled out to triple its normal width. 

As she registered the money clip in her peripheral vision, she figured out what was going on.  *Some arrogant rich prick was making a play.*

She’d planned for the situation, imagining brushing off unwanted suitors with some reference to swiping left/right, coming across as a seasoned no-nonsense person that wouldn't take their shit.  Unfortunately, when the moment arrived, she couldn’t remember which direction meant what in the app (she’d never even downloaded it, let alone used it) and realized how terribly bad it would be to get the directions wrong in this context.  She hesitated- maybe too long, but eventually mustered the state of mind to improvise,  

“Look, if you think I’m the kind of girl that’ll be impressed by a wad o cas… “ … and noticed the denomination on the top dollar in the fold… “Holy forking shirtballs!” 

Yet, when she spun around to face the source of unwanted attention, there was nobody there.   Her tail thrashed furiously with enough force to move furniture, and now all her hairs stood on end.

“um… are we sure that the power suppressors are working? because I’m getting a serious ‘invisible man’ vibe here?” 

She looked back at the money clip.  *rich creepy invisible man with an apparent thing for catgirls.   I should’ve stayed home today.*

Edited by chase

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