[Locked to Those who Frequent the Tower]

[narrated]

((OOC: Feel free for your character to express their interest here and feel free to write a prose piece about them finding their kitten in this post as well. :) ))

It seems that there's been a

We have kittens. There are lots and lots of kittens, and they appeared in the Tower lobby. We've moved them to one of the conference rooms. There are signs pointing the way to the kittens. If you'd like one, please, come take one. Limit one to an individual for the time being. We'll be providing food and litter boxes and litter and toys. I figure the therapy that owning a kitten can bring will more than be worth how much it'll cost to care for them.

These aren't normal kittens.

They teleport within the space of the room that they're in, and they appear to be invulnerable to damage.

They also seem to have a habit of claiming people. If a few of them get out, they might decide that you're who they want to take care of them. Be warned.

Comments

[tempered-scars.livejournal.com]

That fluffy thing won't leave me alone, Martha.

[narrated]

It loves you, Wes.

Accept the love.

It's only a matter of time until you realize that there's absolutely no escape.

[wearsnomask.livejournal.com]

Oh, God.

How many kittens are we talking about?

[narrated]

I'm afraid I haven't been able to get an accurate count!

There must be at least fifty.

[sophicsulphur.livejournal.com]

So that's why there was a kitten trying to climb into one of my storage jars.

Can I keep him? I mean, I think it's a him, anyway.

[narrated]

Yes, that would be why!

You can most certainly keep him... or her, whichever it is. There will be food and litter kept in separate containers in the storage room next to the cafeteria.

After reading - where Hermione bounds over to see the kitties...

[knownallbyheart.livejournal.com]

There is the teeniest, tiniest, scrunchiest-faced kitten (http://lh5.ggpht.com/_Qogq3ys5M8M/S9BWBc67HVI/AAAAAAAAEno/w0DHbe-Ic9I/s640/491319979_507ff96eaa_b.jpg) attached to Hermione Granger's pant leg. It takes a moment or two for her to swallow past a wall of sorrow that is nothing more than missing everything that once meant home to her. There is a soft rip as a little claw tears through the fabric of her pants. It's climbing her.

It takes the teeniest, tiniest mew to break her free from that sorrow and then she is swooping down and picking up the kitty before it reaches the hem of her blouse. The kitten sneezes, sending a flurry of orange fur everywhere, and Hermione falls in love. It's immediate.

"You must not chew on my books," she whispers as she begins walking with her quietly purring bundle, and she doesn't even notice the fur that clings to her clothing. She's not Crookshanks, of course, but she's quite sure they would have been great friends.

Re: After reading - where Hermione bounds over to see the kitties...

[sophicsulphur.livejournal.com]

[prose log]

[sophicsulphur.livejournal.com]

Iris is... not in the most spirited of moods, when she arrives back at her room in the Kashtta. In fact, you could say she's downright deflated. Yesterday, she saw an angel almost die right before her eyes, brought in yet another confused Wanderer, and spent the better part of an hour cleaning the blood off herself while trying not to think too hard about how pretty it was. Today, she might have just possibly convinced Phoebe that she hates her, which couldn't be further from the truth, and she hasn't got a clue how to start sorting that mess out. And tomorrow, she's got to get up and go to work and put on her brightest smile, and any other day that'd be trivial and real, but the way things are going right now, she'll be faking it while trying not to get bad vibes in the coffee. She doesn't like that. The customers, and Millie, deserve better.

...And on top of that, seems she's left her door ajar. Or someone has, anyway.

She gives a small whimper of a sigh and presses her palm to her forehead as she prepares to face whatever devastation might await her within. She just hopes that if someone did break in, they at least failed to recognise the worth of most of what's here.

If they took her cauldron, she's taking the day off.

There's a tangible flood of relief when she opens the door and finds that, in fact, no one has taken her cauldron. The place does look a little more messy than she remembers leaving it, but nothing looks stolen, not even the obvious shiny crystal sitting in a water bath over the fire. Mostly, it's just a few jars displaced from her shelves, and none of them appear to have broken.

Still, it's a little disconcerting, because it's clear someone's been in here. In fact, it kind of feels like someone still is, though there's no one to be seen. She's picking up the scattered jars and checking around for any non-obvious losses when something moves to her right, just beyond her field of vision, almost making her drop the jar she's carrying.

"Huh?" She turns in the direction of the shadow and sees... a kitten. A small, perfectly black kitten, up on her storage shelves, trying to climb into one of the empty jars.

She's seen so much lately, she's almost not about to trust her eyes. She walks, cautiously, over to the kitten and puts a hand lightly on its back.

It feels like a kitten.

It mews like a kitten.

Okay, it's probably a kitten.

"Where... where did you come from?" she asks the little creature, scooping it up off her shelf. "Did I leave the door open? I guess you got in that way.... Mm, you really shouldn't play around on that shelf, though."

It's probably someone's lost kitten, and she'll probably have to look for its owner, but that-- that's something she can take care of tomorrow. Right now, she's tired, and there's a kitten, and she is going to curl up on her gods-damned bed with a gods-damned kitten and the world is going to feel like it's a marginally better place.

And maybe she'll open her journal and try and think of what to write to Phoebe.

Instead, she sees a message from Martha Jones.

[thefarenough.livejournal.com]

There's a kitten in my pocket.

[narrated]

Knowing your pockets, I wouldn't be surprised if you got this kitten somewhere else entirely.

Are you planning on keeping him or her?

[penrosestairs.livejournal.com]

Teleporting kittens?

Is this a normal occurrence around here?

[Arthur basically teleports. He's more than a little interested]

[narrated]

Teleportation or teleporting kittens?

The teleportation happenes frequently with various wanderers that we've had. Some of them get the ability from the Rift. Some come with it already.

The teleporting kittens are a first, however.

[Locked]

[eelseason]

{{OOC: After a while.}}

They're just... kittens, right?

[Locked]

[narrated]

Yes, as far as I can tell.

Why... do you ask?

Dylan hasn't seen the journal post. :\

[fellfrommyheart.livejournal.com]

Dylan is in Kashtta, for once. And whilst prancing and twirling about the corridors like some crazy fairy, a small grey tabby kitten starts to follow her around. It's not until a good ten minutes later than she actually notices. She towers over it with a confused expression, hands on hips. Surely the silly little thing must have an owner, right.

"Shoo, go home.." she tells it with a pout.

The cat simply mews and bounds over to her.

"No.. I mean... like... I mean.. go home! Go back to your owner!" she insists with a frown.

The cat starts purring and nuzzling Dylan's leg. She then has one of those moments where he mental stream suddenly changes and she grins and picks the small furry creature up.

"Okay, you can stay!" she almost squeals and skips down the corridor.

[quiettotheend.livejournal.com]

I keep trying to give one of them back. Really!

[narrated]

It's difficult to give them back. I understand.

[eelseason]

Given the nature of kittens, it's probably not surprising that one tumbled its way out of the conference room and went intrepidly exploring.

What is surprising is how this one managed to make a beeline directly for Jack Harkness' boots, like a very small homing missile tuned to immortal dysfunction and angst.

Jack hasn't been on the journal network for a couple of hours – things to do, alleys to case, so on, etc. – and he's not particularly watching his feet, so the first he knows of it is when something bounces off his foot with a quiet Mieu! It's the noise that catches him as much as the feeling of impact.

What catches him next is looking down to see a tiny calico kitten, tripping over its own paws.

It wobbles to its feet again, tottering to his boot and placing both forepaws on it as though to claim in, and possibly his foot and him by extension. He kneels down as it looks around, then finally up at him with wide eyes.

Mou, it says up at him.

It takes a moment to qualify the feeling at the pit of Jack's heart. He tilts his head at it, trying to see or not to see a kitten he'd found at the side of an alley once, who'd curled up against his chest and shifted back to a boy on the bathroom floor of an Inn he'd hidden in once. Both seeing and not seeing is hard.

"Are you–" he begins, and it lets go of his boot and wanders into the fold of his coat. Then, a series of tiny pinpricks against his thigh, and it's crawling up toward his lap. He picks it up without really thinking.

Mou!

"You're not," he says, and there's a general consensus that his chest is not where his organs belong: his stomach is trying to sink, his heart is trying to climb, and his lungs, trapped there, just feel uneasy. "I mean, a shifter. Are you?"

The kitten curls into a ball and licks the back of one paw.

He holds it, cupped between his hands. "...no," he decides, and looks around. No one seems to have lost a kitten. He can put someone on finding out whose it is when he gets to his journal, or something.

He carries it back to his room, clears out a corner in one drawer, and deposits it there. Opens the journal, skims though the most recent entries...

And then there's a pop, and the kitten is curled up on top of his hand.

Miau!

Jack stares at it.

He stares at it for a good long while.

[thehighestwing.livejournal.com]

[OOC: Jaaaaaaaaaack, break my heart why don't you. This was beautiful and breaky, just as I like it. ;____;

Would Phoebe pick up on any of the...feelings in Jack's pit? :c]

[nomanleftbehind.livejournal.com]

How do we give them back? There's this one that keeps popping back into my room.

Dogs, I'm fine with, but cats? Sorry, really not a cat person.

[narrated]

There isn't really a way to give them back, I'm afraid.

They seem to claim an owner and then stick with that person. Sorry for the inconvenience, but they are quite easy to take care of. They're independent for the most part.

[corpsedisposal.livejournal.com]

Rain doesn't always read the journals. She read them when she was sick because there was nothing else she could do. But now that she's up and about and not puking everywhere, she's decided that sitting around reading is for chumps. So it's not surprising that she hasn't bothered to read the latest entry yet.

She's still feeling weak as, well, a kitten as she heads down to the cafeteria to get something to put in her stomach.

An actual kitten, with coloring resembling a siamese, walks right in front of her and threads itself between her boots. She's not even close to being coordinated enough to keep herself from tripping over it, and she falls on her face. "You stupid fucking thing!" she curses and stands up to inspect the damage to the kitten and herself.

But the kitten's not under her anymore. It's sitting directly in her path, looking at her. "Get out of here, furball!" she snarls. It stares at her, unblinking. She stares back.

She kicks at it. It teleports another foot or so away, avoiding her, still sitting, still staring. She crouches down to the floor to level out the staring contest.

It teleports closer, and closer again, by inches at a time, never breaking eye contact. The cat and Rain are now nose to nose. It sticks out its tiny pink tongue and licks her chin.

Rain considers this for a moment. "You're kind of metal for a cat." The cat meows in response. "I'm keeping you," she decides and sweeps the kitten up into her arms. It settles on her shoulder as she takes it with her to the cafeteria.

[princerat.livejournal.com]

Thanks for the heads-up.

Their scent is all over this place.

[narrated]

You're welcome!

I'm sorry if the scent bothers you at all. Unfortunately, there's not much I can do with them except hand them out to people here. If I took them to a pet store, there's a good chance that they'd be bought by some organization that wants to experiment on them due to their teleportation abilities and immortality.

[a-baglady.livejournal.com]

It keeps following me around, how do I get it to stop sticking to me?

[narrated]

I'm afraid there isn't a way as far as I've found out.

Suppose you could try to scare it away, but it might think you're simply trying to play with it.

{locked}

[kashttaaatman.livejournal.com]

{{OOC: Do not mind this thing identifying itself as the Kashtta Tower showing up in your journal, Martha. It... can't do much to you through the journal network?}}

tHE kit ten s will make your SAD go a way . . .

[locked]

[narrated]

Whose sadness?

You're

Are you actually the Tower writing to me?

The bloody Tower writing a comment to my journal. I don't

Chicago, you did it again

[ocptmycpt.livejournal.com]

[Kind of late whoops.]

I found a little yellow one climbing on my bookshelf. I think I'll keep him around.

He looks like a Simba.