The Mayor opens her eyes, blinking into the dimly lit office. Hm. There's no sunbeam here. Earlier, there was definitely a sunbeam.
Ah—there it is. The furry, four-legged mayor stretches her front paws out in front of her, digging her sharp claws into a thick manila folder on the desk. There's something big and red stamped across the front but Mayor T-Bone was elected to lead, not to read, and also she can't read. Looks important.
Mayor T-Bone ignores it and wanders over to the sunbeam's new location. There's a pen shaped like a soft serve ice cream cone in her way, and the civil servant knocks it onto the floor.
"Mr. May—Mr. Zebrowski, where are you going?" Voices in the hall threaten to disturb the Mayor's continued rest.
"Jonathan, it's Zippy now. I'm a private citizen!" They're coming closer to her office, large humans looming just outside the doorframe. The one with the long hair she likes, the one who feeds her cold food. The other one she will never like, and she doesn't have or need a reason.
"Okay, but—Zippy, who's actually in charge now? We can't—" Jonathan gestures at the desk. Mayor T-Bone keeps an eye on him.
"T-Bone is!" Zippy replies brightly. He crosses into her office and everything goes upside down as T-Bone rolls onto her back, exposing her belly for him to rub.
"You're—that's not an option, that's not actually an option." Jonathan follows him in and T-Bone tenses slightly. This belly is not for him to rub. "She's a cat, and we have actual human business to manage."
"I know, a cat managing human business, it's genius!" Zippy joyfully announces. He plops down in that old seat of his behind the desk, tugs at one of the old drawers lining either side, and takes a moment to give the Mayor a scritch on the belly. She lolls onto her side, bringing everything right side up again. "She's the only one of us truly unfettered by political bias."
"There's still a significant communication barrier, sir." Jonathan absentmindedly follows Zippy's lead, reaching out to rub T-Bone's belly. In seconds, her claws are out, and everything freezes in that moment before he realizes what a mistake he's made.
She realizes first how small they are. It's disorienting. As the memory goes on, it is, at least, clear who it must belong to. Weird. Chanel moves about the room, looking a little feline herself, as she brushes near and not on the ankles of the men in the room. "...Hey, have we ever made you watch CATS?" is her first thought, to Eddy, even as she checks to make sure she doesn't have a tail or strange feet all of a sudden.
She's almost a little disappointed to discover she does not. Just a cat-sized human.
Edited (they were cat sized I'm an idiot ) 2020-06-07 02:51 (UTC)
They keep shrinking. Being in little Chanel's head was mildly disorienting, but Zippy's shoe practically comes up to Eddy's waist now. He decides to take a step away from it, just in case an impromptu clogging session takes place once this memory unfreezes.
"...Heard there's an orgy scene." This is the most recent alarming tidbit he's learned about CATS from Armani, but certainly not the only one. From what he's gathered, uppercase cats, somehow, is far more alarming than lowercase. "Would've been a hell of a prom theme."
"A hell of a wasted prom theme." She reminds him, because it would've been. "And I'd call it a pre-orgy, at the most. It doesn't get explicit." She shouldn't be setting him up for failure like this, but it's a fun movie to inflict on whoever possible, and honestly she'd just like to see his face while viewing jellicles.
Chanel can't quite reach the cat to stroke its ears, but she takes a moment to tilt her head up in appreciation. She's always liked cats.
"...You know, I don't think I'd be able to create an organized filing system either, from this height. I bet she was a better mayor than we give her credit for."
"An important distinction," Eddy offers, taking a moment to stop tugging on a frozen desk drawer to quirk an amused eyebrow at Chanel. He's not sure what a jellicles is, but considering the two closest words it sounds like is jelly and testicles, he's chosen not to ask so far.
"Feel like thumbs would help too. With the filing. Probably the mayoring too," he clarifies as he reaches for the next drawer handle up, because scaling a giant-sized Zippy Zebronski is the alternative. The fact this town has not one, but two ?elected?-officials-turned-ice-cream-slingers is more than a little baffling to Eddy. This isn't some weird urban legend after all.
"..Didn't see any cat food, did you?" Eddy really hopes the key to this memory isn't downing four dozen cans of kibbles.
Chanel does not want to climb a desk and frowns as Eddy tries. She hovers, worried, around the bottom, hands out, waiting to catch him. "You don't need thumbs to mayor." She points out. "Maybe the world would be a better place if all our elected officials were worried about was their next meal. ...Darling, don't fall."
She does spare a glance around the room. "No food. Poor darling." But she's a little relieved, too, because if the key to getting out of here was eating cat food, they'd be trapped here for the rest of their natural lives.
"Bet she enacted some real interesting laws," he muses, then releases his hand hold, teetering on a drawer handle, before reclaiming it with uncharacteristic smug ease, the same reaction when his Ma starts to fret. Eddy's been risking life and limb for years, dangling midair off his broom all for the sake of keeping some balls out of a hoop. Scaling some desk drawers is child's play in comparison. "Fine. Promise."
"None up here either," he reports, also with relief, when he makes it atop the desk. From here it's a much clearer view of the scene unfolding, and though he might be cat-sized, T-Bone is built like a car in comparison. "'Bout to fuck this guy up though."
She gives out an audible sigh. Yes of course he'd insist he's fine. But he gets up there without any big accidents. So she doesn't press it now. "Well she deserves to." She points out, "Don't move his hand or anything. He should know not to pet a cat on its stomach, goodness."
She stalks around the base of the desk, peering up. "...Oooh. Maybe some of her laws are in that folder. Knock it down, I'll look through."
It seems that Chanel has accepted the chaos of being a cat within the first five minutes.
Eddy doesn't need to be told twice. He gives the folder a strong heave-ho off the side of the desk and watches as dozens of papers go raining to the floor. Shit, it is satisfying to be a cat.
Chanel pretty much straight up cackles at the destruction this wrought so very easily, and goes to look through the thrown folder for important policy changes.
And just as the students embrace their inner chaotic feline, the room shifts like a movie played in reverse. Everything touched and moved zips right back to the place it had been a moment before, and then, Ex-Mayor T-Bone starts to move once more.
T-Bone's claws sink into Jonathan's entire forearm and he lets out a scream of Wilhelm proportions. Zippy spends about four seconds laughing at his fate before coaxing her away. "Look at her, communicating loud and clear! A real problem-solver mayor."
"That's not what I—" Jonathan starts to complain, and Mayor T-Bone isn't sure if it's Zippy's hand or her death glare that cuts him off. Probably her death glare. He's learning.
"I know what you mean, Jonathan, but this is actually kind of brilliant." Zippy pets the top of T-Bone's head and she leans into it, purring lightly. "He probably can't live in her head. Kind of a clean break."
"Sir, I don't—I don’t know what you’re talking about?" Zippy leans forward and flips open the cover of the red-stamped folder. But it's not a folder; it's an opening, a portal back to Peckenpaugh School of Magic.
"I thought that was why we hired you," he jokes, ignoring Jonathan and scratching between the cat mayor's ears.
[REPLY REQUIREMENT MET. You may leave through the portal or continue to thread. Just be sure to grab that linchpin before you go!]
The cackling only becomes more apparent. Jonathan absolutely got what was coming to him. She smirks and, turning over a few very large papers, decides that it's best to get going.
"No, I'll be up in a minute. I want this pen."
Maybe she should learn, someday, that you're not able to take large items with you out of memories. But it's a cute pen, and she grabs it, only to find that it comes up to her waist, at least. "...I might have to pass this to you."
Eddy absolutely does not tell her to leave it, because who is he to deny Chanel a novelty pen that doesn't fit her aesthetic at all? The mechanics of memories and souvenirs isn't one he's encountered yet either, so this seems as plausible to him as yeeting a portal-in-a-folder off the side of a desk.
Within moments, he's hopped back down the side of the desk with ease and hangs off the drawer handle like he's King Kong on the Empire State Building, other arm outstretched to take the yard-stick sized pen from her. "Oh. Hey." is all he says when he notices the pen's started glowing, but he trusts Chanel to guess the meaning of this particular variation of "Oh. Hey."
Chanel beams with all the confidence of a fool who has found two whole linchpins now without even trying. What were the others even complaining about, she could do this all day. (These are, inevitably, famous last words, and she doesn't know climbing's gonna hurt a whole lot more soon. But ignorance, as always, is bliss. And for now she is fine.)
She passes the huge pen, heavier than it should be, to the dangling Eddy, and then reaches for a handle as well, pausing because she only wants to scurry up once he's on the desk proper. Safety first.
"Always make a good team," Eddy agrees, beaming back at her with a shared confidence he rarely feels. (And also some lingering relief that they've been able to save a former public official without having to become intimately familiar with the taste of Fancy Feast.) He takes a few moments to become comfortable with the weight of the pen and then launches it onto the desk like a javelin before hoisting himself back up as well.
Then he peers back down over the side at Chanel. "Need a hand?"
Edited (my icons expired time for repeats) 2020-06-08 01:17 (UTC)
Chanel scoffs. Of course she doesn't need help. It's good natured, though, no real offense taken. "I've got it." She assures, though she doubtlessly looks comical as she climbs, clutching one shoe (blessedly small sized since it was on her foot the whole time.) She's whistling Mungojerrie and Rumpelteazer during the climb, likely only because she's aware Eddy doesn't know the reference.
She lands with a little flourish and grabs back her pen. "...But you can borrow it sometimes." She assures, stepping toward the portal.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
peckishmods) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
peckenpaugh2020-06-01 11:18 am
MEMORY: Cat Mayor
[CRITERIA: Minimum Replies 8]
The Mayor opens her eyes, blinking into the dimly lit office. Hm. There's no sunbeam here. Earlier, there was definitely a sunbeam.
Ah—there it is. The furry, four-legged mayor stretches her front paws out in front of her, digging her sharp claws into a thick manila folder on the desk. There's something big and red stamped across the front but Mayor T-Bone was elected to lead, not to read, and also she can't read. Looks important.
Mayor T-Bone ignores it and wanders over to the sunbeam's new location. There's a pen shaped like a soft serve ice cream cone in her way, and the civil servant knocks it onto the floor.
"Mr. May—Mr. Zebrowski, where are you going?" Voices in the hall threaten to disturb the Mayor's continued rest.
"Jonathan, it's Zippy now. I'm a private citizen!" They're coming closer to her office, large humans looming just outside the doorframe. The one with the long hair she likes, the one who feeds her cold food. The other one she will never like, and she doesn't have or need a reason.
"Okay, but—Zippy, who's actually in charge now? We can't—" Jonathan gestures at the desk. Mayor T-Bone keeps an eye on him.
"T-Bone is!" Zippy replies brightly. He crosses into her office and everything goes upside down as T-Bone rolls onto her back, exposing her belly for him to rub.
"You're—that's not an option, that's not actually an option." Jonathan follows him in and T-Bone tenses slightly. This belly is not for him to rub. "She's a cat, and we have actual human business to manage."
"I know, a cat managing human business, it's genius!" Zippy joyfully announces. He plops down in that old seat of his behind the desk, tugs at one of the old drawers lining either side, and takes a moment to give the Mayor a scritch on the belly. She lolls onto her side, bringing everything right side up again. "She's the only one of us truly unfettered by political bias."
"There's still a significant communication barrier, sir." Jonathan absentmindedly follows Zippy's lead, reaching out to rub T-Bone's belly. In seconds, her claws are out, and everything freezes in that moment before he realizes what a mistake he's made.
MEMORY: Cat Mayor
She's almost a little disappointed to discover she does not. Just a cat-sized human.
MEMORY: Cat Mayor
"...Heard there's an orgy scene." This is the most recent alarming tidbit he's learned about CATS from Armani, but certainly not the only one. From what he's gathered, uppercase cats, somehow, is far more alarming than lowercase. "Would've been a hell of a prom theme."
MEMORY: Cat Mayor
Chanel can't quite reach the cat to stroke its ears, but she takes a moment to tilt her head up in appreciation. She's always liked cats.
"...You know, I don't think I'd be able to create an organized filing system either, from this height. I bet she was a better mayor than we give her credit for."
MEMORY: Cat Mayor
"Feel like thumbs would help too. With the filing. Probably the mayoring too," he clarifies as he reaches for the next drawer handle up, because scaling a giant-sized Zippy Zebronski is the alternative. The fact this town has not one, but two ?elected?-officials-turned-ice-cream-slingers is more than a little baffling to Eddy. This isn't some weird urban legend after all.
"..Didn't see any cat food, did you?" Eddy really hopes the key to this memory isn't downing four dozen cans of kibbles.
MEMORY: Cat Mayor
She does spare a glance around the room. "No food. Poor darling." But she's a little relieved, too, because if the key to getting out of here was eating cat food, they'd be trapped here for the rest of their natural lives.
MEMORY: Cat Mayor
"None up here either," he reports, also with relief, when he makes it atop the desk. From here it's a much clearer view of the scene unfolding, and though he might be cat-sized, T-Bone is built like a car in comparison. "'Bout to fuck this guy up though."
MEMORY: Cat Mayor
She stalks around the base of the desk, peering up. "...Oooh. Maybe some of her laws are in that folder. Knock it down, I'll look through."
It seems that Chanel has accepted the chaos of being a cat within the first five minutes.
MEMORY: Cat Mayor
MEMORY: Cat Mayor
MEMORY: Cat Mayor
T-Bone's claws sink into Jonathan's entire forearm and he lets out a scream of Wilhelm proportions. Zippy spends about four seconds laughing at his fate before coaxing her away. "Look at her, communicating loud and clear! A real problem-solver mayor."
"That's not what I—" Jonathan starts to complain, and Mayor T-Bone isn't sure if it's Zippy's hand or her death glare that cuts him off. Probably her death glare. He's learning.
"I know what you mean, Jonathan, but this is actually kind of brilliant." Zippy pets the top of T-Bone's head and she leans into it, purring lightly. "He probably can't live in her head. Kind of a clean break."
"Sir, I don't—I don’t know what you’re talking about?" Zippy leans forward and flips open the cover of the red-stamped folder. But it's not a folder; it's an opening, a portal back to Peckenpaugh School of Magic.
"I thought that was why we hired you," he jokes, ignoring Jonathan and scratching between the cat mayor's ears.
[REPLY REQUIREMENT MET. You may leave through the portal or continue to thread. Just be sure to grab that linchpin before you go!]
MEMORY: Cat Mayor
"Door's up here," Eddy calls down to Chanel. "Want it down there?" He's not quite ready to give up on his inner chaotic feline just yet.
MEMORY: Cat Mayor
"No, I'll be up in a minute. I want this pen."
Maybe she should learn, someday, that you're not able to take large items with you out of memories. But it's a cute pen, and she grabs it, only to find that it comes up to her waist, at least. "...I might have to pass this to you."
Tell her to leave it, Eddy.
MEMORY: Cat Mayor
Within moments, he's hopped back down the side of the desk with ease and hangs off the drawer handle like he's King Kong on the Empire State Building, other arm outstretched to take the yard-stick sized pen from her. "Oh. Hey." is all he says when he notices the pen's started glowing, but he trusts Chanel to guess the meaning of this particular variation of "Oh. Hey."
MEMORY: Cat Mayor
Chanel beams with all the confidence of a fool who has found two whole linchpins now without even trying. What were the others even complaining about, she could do this all day. (These are, inevitably, famous last words, and she doesn't know climbing's gonna hurt a whole lot more soon. But ignorance, as always, is bliss. And for now she is fine.)
She passes the huge pen, heavier than it should be, to the dangling Eddy, and then reaches for a handle as well, pausing because she only wants to scurry up once he's on the desk proper. Safety first.
MEMORY: Cat Mayor
Then he peers back down over the side at Chanel. "Need a hand?"
MEMORY: Cat Mayor
She lands with a little flourish and grabs back her pen. "...But you can borrow it sometimes." She assures, stepping toward the portal.
MEMORY: Cat Mayor
MEMORY: Cat Mayor - COMPLETE & TOKENS!
Upon emerging from the memory out into the auditorium, the portal snapped shut behind them.
Elsewhere in the auditorium, Ex-Mayor T-Bone and dewdrops, a magimagicicada were freed.
You can check your token totals in Pouch's shop here, and maybe see if there's anything worth grabbing while you're there!