liesmith-loki:

i-am-the-firechild:

liesmith-loki:

i-am-the-firechild:

Summer noted the tiny smile, and damned herself for the answering curl of her own lips. Screw it, she thought, I barely even know this guy and I’ve already bonded. How stupid can I be.

Aloud she responded, “Helios isn’t going to throw up all over your pretty clothes, he’s just going to give you some fur.” The big ragdoll promptly leaped into Loki’s lap, turning around a few times and hitting the dark man in the face with his giant fluffy tail. “He’s a ragdoll cat, which is a breed, although he’s not purebred. They’re called ragdolls because they tend to go limp when held and are generally very relaxed and laid back kitties. Helios is so goodnatured he’s never even hissed at anyone. Go on, scratch his ears. Let him know you’re welcoming.”

Helios kneaded his paws up and down a few times, then walked off Loki’s lap just long enough to sprawl out full length nearby, using Loki’s knee for a headrest and opening his blue eyes wide. He began to purr.

Loki hesitantly laid his hand on the cat’s body, hesitantly stroking down the soft fur—smiling ever so slightly at the vibrating hum of the purr.

“Such a trusting creature.” 

“Cats are. They may seem standoffish, but once one has claimed you, it’s up to you not to break that trust. They aren’t,” she hesitated, searching for the right word, “intelligent. Not the way we are. They can’t understand, if we hurt them.”

Helios increased the volume of his purr, narrowing his eyes to slits. “But they understand our emotions,” she continued softly. “Helios is saying, don’t hurt, I’m here, I care. Maybe that’s why Macrowafter came to you.”

Loki was staring down at the cat with a look of perplexed concentration, his hand still moving with calculated care over the silky fur—he found he had no answer for a long moment, and instead focused on the cat.

“…I found Macrowafter in an alley.  He was hurt.  I took him home and bathed and treated him, and he stayed.” 

Summer reached out to lay her hand over his. “He must have known you had a good hear—” A storm of emotion blazed through her mind, pain and anger and desperation and longing — she jerked her hand away and sat for a long moment, breathing hard. Helios laid his ears back, his purr dimming.

liesmith-loki:

i-am-the-firechild:

liesmith-loki:

i-am-the-firechild:

“Oh, catnip, tuna, fish … any food he’s ever tried to steal from you is probably a good choice. I suggest buying a few different kinds and seeing which ones he devours the fastest.” Folding herself into a cross-legged position, she scooped up the tortie and upended it, petting it’s belly. The longhair checked the floor where the treats had been a few times, then padded over to Loki and began to strop the tall man’s legs, stepping on his shoes.

Loki looked down—and then reached a hesitant hand to touch the cat’s head.

“Macrowafter steals carrots off of my plate when I have steamed vegetables.  Is that normal?  I was under the impression that he was a carnivore.  Is this not the case?” 

“Oh, for — honey, please sit down. You already have one cat, you can’t possibly be worried about getting fur on your clothes, and Helios wants to sit in your lap.”

Helios laid his little dark ears flat and butted Loki’s hand, rising up a little on his back feet. His plumed tail waved gently. Summer turned her feline captive loose, who promptly bolted off a few feet and furiously washed a paw.

“Now, cats are not strictly carnivores. They need similar kinds of nutrients from their foods as we do. You might have noticed Macrowafter — you have to explain that — eating grasses or flowers when he’s outside. Partly that’s to help digestion. Partly,” she made a disgusted face, “they do that to make themselves throw up. Hairballs. Brushing him will help with that. It’s not fun to step on barefoot in the middle of the night. That one,” she pointed at the seal-point importuning Loki, “likes to scarf his food, then bring it right back up. Because he ate too fast, the stinker.”

“You can just call him ‘Cat’,” Loki said, his voice a mutter.
He sat gingerly, his discomfort clear.  ”This cat eats and then evacuates—has he eaten recently?”  He eyed the cat with clear distrust, but he couldn’t resist a tiny curl of one corner of his mouth as the animal butted his hand. 

Summer noted the tiny smile, and damned herself for the answering curl of her own lips. Fuck it, she thought, I barely even know this guy and I’ve already bonded. How stupid can I be.

Aloud she responded, “Helios isn’t going to throw up all over your pretty clothes, he’s just going to give you some fur.” The big ragdoll promptly leaped into Loki’s lap, turning around a few times and hitting the dark man in the face with his giant fluffy tail. “He’s a ragdoll cat, which is a breed, although he’s not purebred. They’re called ragdolls because they tend to go limp when held and are generally very relaxed and laid back kitties. Helios is so goodnatured he’s never even hissed at anyone. Go on, scratch his ears. Let him know you’re welcoming.”

Helios kneaded his paws up and down a few times, then walked off Loki’s lap just long enough to sprawl out full length nearby, using Loki’s knee for a headrest and opening his blue eyes wide. He began to purr.

liesmith-loki:

i-am-the-firechild:

liesmith-loki:

i-am-the-firechild:

Summer snorted into a long peal of laughter. “Oh, dear gods of hell. You think that was actual magic? Sweetie, I was making a joke.” She sealed up the bag, holding it out of reach of grasping paws. “You’ll have to find a treat Macrowafter likes, and hope he’s in hearing range, but offering treats usually works.”

“No,” Loki said, his body stiff with wounded dignity.  ”it is merely a figure of speech.”  He eyed the milling puddle of cats.

“What sort of ‘treats’ do felines favour, generally?”

“Oh, catnip, tuna, fish … any food he’s ever tried to steal from you is probably a good choice. I suggest buying a few different kinds and seeing which ones he devours the fastest.” Folding herself into a cross-legged position, she scooped up the tortie and upended it, petting it’s belly. The longhair checked the floor where the treats had been a few times, then padded over to Loki and began to strop the tall man’s legs, stepping on his shoes.

Loki looked down—and then reached a hesitant hand to touch the cat’s head.

“Macrowafter steals carrots off of my plate when I have steamed vegetables.  Is that normal?  I was under the impression that he was a carnivore.  Is this not the case?” 

“Oh, for — honey, please sit down. You already have one cat, you can’t possibly be worried about getting fur on your clothes, and Helios wants to sit in your lap.”

Helios laid his little dark ears flat and butted Loki’s hand, rising up a little on his back feet. His plumed tail waved gently. Summer turned her feline captive loose, who promptly bolted off a few feet and furiously washed a paw.

“Now, cats are not strictly carnivores. They need similar kinds of nutrients from their foods as we do. You might have noticed Macrowafter — you have to explain that — eating grasses or flowers when he’s outside. Partly that’s to help digestion. Partly,” she made a disgusted face, “they do that to make themselves throw up. Hairballs. Brushing him will help with that. It’s not fun to step on barefoot in the middle of the night. That one,” she pointed at the seal-point importuning Loki, “likes to scarf his food, then bring it right back up. Because he ate too fast, the stinker.”