020: VIDEO

[intheblanks]

[Not long after midnight and the scrub room at the hospital looks like it's been deserted by one very messy surgeon. Crumpled, bloodied blue cotton lies in a pile on the tiled floor.]

YIP. YIPYIPAWOOO.

[And then something starts nudging the network device until it's leaning up against the heap. Something with a little wet nose, a little furry face, and ears. Not so little ears.]

YIP RRRRRR.

[Device placed to show the heavy swing doors, the creature (smaller than a cat, not quite as long as a side of A4) rushes headlong into them, failing to make any impact whatsoever. Scrabbling with his sharp claws has an equally dismal effect.]

AWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.

[But at least they're soundproof.]


[ooc: GRAB BAG! Chase will be a fennec fox for the duration of the weekend, please feel free to run into him anywhere over any part of it, or video tag for yipping and contemporary mime. He will be let out of the scrub room!]

Comments

[chasestail]

Awooo-rrr Awrf?

(Do you think I could tell you, if there was?)

[He scrabbles for a better hold on her arm, careful careful not to let his claws catch. It's not the most dignified of positions, but then dignity was probably left behind with his scrubs.

He shakes his head, carefully.]

[as_damaged]

Twice for no,

[she reminds, lips pursed slightly. The absolute worst part of being in the City so long is, this is barely strange. She's just relieved they don't have to play a guessing game right now, when she'd like to get to sleep sometime in the near future.]

Just let me get my things.

[chasestail]

Wooooooo yip roo?

(How many to ask if you could grab my pants?)

[But he's more relieved not to be spending the night in the scrub room than anything. Shortly he finds himself resting his chin on her shoulder as she walks.

Hopefully she doesn't mind wet noses.]

[as_damaged]

[Carrying him seems easier than hoping his little paws will keep up. She has to set him down to pick up her stuff-- and she does briefly consider tucking him in her purse, but really she'd rather not encourage anyone rifling through it that way-- but it could be worse. Wet nose or no, at least he's not too heavy.]

You can worry about getting home tomorrow, then. [You because she doesn't mind walking him over, but she's not gong to go fishing for his keys or ring his neighbors.] Hopefully I've got something you can eat.

[chasestail]

[He's already been through her purse, drunk and newly-arrived (for the second time). It was an uncoordinated affair then. The lack of fingers and thumbs would likely make the process an even more difficult one in this state.]

AROOOOOOOO-OOOO.

[Announcing that he's starving wasn't meant to be quite so loud. If it echoes down the corridors, god knows what it does to her far more proximate ears.]

[as_damaged]

[What it does is nearly make her drop him, startled and fumbling at the suddenness and the volume. She manages to get an arm back under him, wincing, before he slips more than an inch or so.]

Was that necessary?

[chasestail]

Roooooo. Rrrf.

(It just comes out like that. Sorry.)

[And that just comes out as a squeaky grumble, muttered somewhere into her shirt. Trying to avoid using her chest as a temporary platform when her arms slipped means that now he's found a secure hold he'll stay there. All the way home.]

[as_damaged]

[Well, at least he sounds sorry. Ish. It's not ideal, but it'll do to get them back home.]

[chasestail]

[Her neighbours must hate him. He's already woken them up on enough occasions with drunken attempts at the wrong door. This Sunday it was a fox's version of knocking - raising enough of a high pitched clamour to make most of the hallways think an alarm was going off.

He just wanted someone who knew not to feed him cat food.]

[as_damaged]

[Lucky she doesn't know most of them well enough to be embarrassed by it. Probably, though, she'll have to buy an apologetic cup of coffee for Olivia across the hall, since she's closest both physically and socially to this racket. Cameron doesn't need to look through the peephole (which is good, because he's abnormally short,) to guess who's there.

She opens her locks noisily, glancing at the cat who's scurried under the sofa with ears pressed back, and lets him in.]

Lock yourself out at home?

[Just the slightest bit cross, because he can be awfully ear-splitting. She heads back to the kitchen to put on the teakettle, as soon as the door's locked behind.]

[chasestail]

YIPYIP [Wait, he's inside now] Yipyip woooo. Awoooo-woooo.

(Fire doors are a bloody curse, and elevators. Have you got any idea how many stairs this place has?)

[And she's not even on a high floor. He follows at her heels into the kitchen only to collapse wearily onto the tiles. Poor, starving, exhausted creature.]

his icons are killing meeeee

[as_damaged]

[Only a long history of self control keeps her from stooping to scratch his enormous ears, poor baby. Rationally she knows he's actually a human being with whom she has a complicated and somewhat uncomfortable relationship; it doesn't do as much as it ought to lessen the gut reaction. After a moment's thought she sets down a dish of water next to him.]

Here to raid the fridge, then?

muahaha

[chasestail]

Roooooo.


(Maybe if I could get it open.)

[What a pitiful little whine. But the truth is all that stair climbing really does take it out of a little fox.]

[as_damaged]

[She looks at him, head canted slightly to the side, and opens the fridge door in offering. It's just a lucky guess.]

[chasestail]

[Oh look, the poor miserable creature has found miraculous reserves of inner strength. Hygiene be damned, he's going to try and open the vegetable drawer with his teeth.]

[as_damaged]

You're buying me take-out this week, you know.

[Idly playing the angel of mercy, she bends to give him a hand with it. Maybe she just doesn't want the edge of it ruined.]

[chasestail]

[He'd be delighted to. Perhaps a yip and a casual nuzzle of her hand is enough to say so, but he rolls over to underline the point. Two days and it's hard to keep the more ridiculous aspects of instinctive behaviour under check.

Carrots. His teeth are far better designed for rescuing one from the bag.]

[as_damaged]

[Two days and she's forcibly reminding herself not to treat him like a pet. The wiggling and yipping doesn't much help. Moving the rest of the bag out onto the floor as he busies himself with the carrot, she shuts the fridge.]

You'll have to make it up to the cat on your own. I think she's still under the couch.

[She leans against the counter, waiting.]

[chasestail]

Rrrrrrr.

(Maybe tomorrow when she's less likely to scar me for life. Again.)

[A little red scratch mars the fur on his nose from the night before. He's not certain who Gray resents more right now, him for existing or Cameron for this ostensible transfer of her affections.]

Rowrrr yip!

(If I sleep on the couch again she'll probably leave home.)

[Muttered around the last few toothy grates of carrot.]

[as_damaged]

[Watch yourself or she won't be able to help laughing at you, Robert. She's noticed that scratch but it doesn't seem quite worth taking up veterinary science at this stage in life. She'll spot him a band-aid if it carries over in the morning.]

Just here for dinner? Or planning to stay around?

[Not that she minds, four legs or two, but she'd have expected he'd want to meet midnight in his own room, for reasons that are obvious but a bit difficult to articulate.]

[chasestail]

Yiyip rooooo.

(Actually I came by to check on you.)

[There's plenty of time for him to make it back across the square. But these two-day curses are unpredictable - he couldn't drop her a text to see she was all right.]

[as_damaged]

[There's not enough context for her to guess what he means, so she looks a bit perplexed. The kettle behind her has started to hiss, and she picks it up before it can properly whistle, pouring the water off into a mug.]

I've just been reading, [she explains, unasked. As far as she can tell.] If you want to stay a while, that's fine; I'll get the door for you when you're ready to go. Just-- try not to wake my neighbors?

[She doesn't much look like she minds, though.]

[chasestail]

[The apologetic wrinkle to his nose is the same in both forms, apparently.]

Awoo-woo-rrrr.

(Sorry about that. Maybe... twenty minutes?)

[He trots back into the living room ahead of her, pausing in front of the couch - expected destination - then making a dash to the opposite side at the emergence of a low, threatening yowl.]

[as_damaged]

I've been in the other room anyway.

[Leaning against the doorframe, tea in hand, her eyes are on the lashing edge of a grey tail peeking from beneath the sofa. She's not sure if it's the scent of fox, or the noise-- if she had to guess that would be it, though-- but there is clearly no possibility of peace here.]

[chasestail]

[And to think, he's more used to complaining that the cat uses him as an easy chair.]

Roo?

[Other room?]