( MIXED. ) I KNOW YOU WANTED ME TO STAY

[ashaya]

Who: Spock & (Occasionally) You, Various CR as noted.
Where: Near the harbor, mostly.
What: Spock looks for a way to (ethically) negate the missile toads and their associated excretions. It backfires spectacularly.
Warnings: Ethical experimentation with hallucinogenic substances (toads), others TBA.

i. DON'T THINK I'VE LEFT YOU ALL BEHIND (OPEN TO ALL)

[ If you're (un)fortunate enough, you might encounter one (1) individual wrapped up in a parka and thick gloves examining the infamous toads from a (frankly inadvisable) distance one cool, winter evening.

Despite the notable impediment to writing, he's jotting down sharp, clean remarks in a thick, leather-bound notebook. If one is nosey enough to peer over his shoulder or settle up beside him, they might notice that it is all in a very peculiar form of shorthand. If one really squints, it seems more consistent with a form of... Esperanto?

Well, Esperanto enough. It doesn't seem to be wholly consistent with that either, given where words break into the next. ]

While I am not opposed to the company fellow observers, [ he will eventually say, his dark eyes turning to yours as the night winds off the sea begin to stir up, ] I ask you do not disturb it.

[ Well, at least he's nice enough about imposing boundaries?

Anyone who has a keen enough eye, however, will note his sharp cheekbones are a rather fetching shade of pine. ]

ii. GOD, WHAT HAVE YOU DONE? (CLOSED TO ESTABLISHED CR)

Good evening, [ comes a particularly sleepy baritone nearest your... heels? Indeed so. It appears whomever is out here just at the cusp of nightfall is laying bundled up in the grass on the outskirts of Aldrip proper. He's a tall man, though it is difficult to discern precisely who he is under the layers he wears. He has a furred hood up and about his ears, the dark curls of his hair(?) the only identifier that clears the ruffed and ruffled mass. It does not help that he also appears to be a perch for several felines, all of whom look very well fed.

The sleek, black one that sits upon his chest opens one, curious green eye if you're inclined to lean over and investigate. The others? Well, they instead seem contented to sniff about your shoes and wind their way about your legs if you're "on the level," as it were. ] To my count, you have approximately seventeen point four one minutes to return to your residence without further incident.

[ Uh.

And then, the man starts up again. ]

Approximately. I confess my margin of error appears to have expanded.

[ The black cat, almost as if bidding you on, gives an obliging prrbt as the man lifts one hand to stroke along its back.

Well. ]

Comments

FINALLY CRAWLS BACK FROM HOLS

[ashaya]

[ Ah, yes. The spiders. They would indeed by out and about, wouldn't they? That knowledge doesn't surprise him. Moreover, the knowledge that one of the collection has discovered him in such a state? Even less surprising. They did have such a "knack" as Humans would call it for discovering him in any number of interesting positions and situations.

Spock doesn't pause, but he does take a beat longer to lift his hand in automatic greeting than he usually would. He doesn't attempt the ta'al, knowing his fine motor skills appear to be somewhat compromised, but the upward tilt of a palm gets the same message across. ]

I intend to return to my quarters within the specified period, [ he says, without missing a beat. His eyes are darker than usual as he tips his head toward her, the ruff of his coat covered in a fresh coat of hoar. ]

Be mindful of her left flank, if you please. [ He can tell who she is petting, even if he cannot visually confirm which cat it is. Each has its own "impression," as it were. It is enhanced further now, a fact that Spock notes for later documentation. ] She has recently engaged in a territorial dispute.

<3

[arachnerina]

[It's still unclear if it's good luck or bad luck, that has them always finding their friends in "interesting" positions. It's certainly never intentional! It just...happens. Often. To all of them.]

Oh, yeah? Not curious what all the hubbub is about?

[He might not really be a fighter per-say, but he is strong, and can handle just about anything thrown at him. She knows this, personally. And he's typically the curious type, though maybe the rule follower part of him is winning out right now?? Who knows.]

Have you been fighting again? I thought we talked about this! [Is she baby talking the cat? Why yes, yes she is. She's careful, though, being mindful of her left side, as Spock said.]

[ashaya]

[ Hard to say, particularly when one is looking at a Vulcan.

That also said, he is indeed strong. Stronger than most would give him credit. He isn't a fighter, yes, but does in fact know how to defend himself and prefers to disarm his opponents via... Well, putting them temporarily "to bed," as others have called it.

Either way, Spock swallows once. The sound is dryer than it ought to be. It takes him a moment to realize he is experiencing what is colloquially referred to as "cotton mouth." ]

If you are referring to the bufonids equipped with individually scaled projectiles, I am not. If there are other, as you say, "hub-bubs" about, then I will consider remaining outside my outside domicile for the duration.

[ As he talks about them, his words tend to wander more than they ought to. He tries pulling them back to the fore, but they're quite determined to slip through his means of relaying information. But, still, the point remains. Either way: ]

She will elect not to understand, [ he says, voice more a rumble than it is anything else. He reaches out a hand to her (the cat, that is) and mumbles something that causes the translator to "hiccough." It is something that falls in the vein of... Small one? ] She, like other felids, are not deterred by significantly delayed chastisement.

[ If this were any other day, he might have no issue whatsoever petting her. At the moment, his fingers seem almost... Uncooperative. They bend out of careful sync, remaining less curled than they ought to permit him the most efficient means to stroke along her spine. ]