twenty-nine ➢ spam

[patheticvillain]

spam } various times 1/24-1/28

[There is a small, slim, and unfamiliar black cat walking the Barge this weekend. A familiar item hangs around his neck: two coins fused together by supernatural strength, hung on a leather thong. With it, the cat seems to pass freely throughout the ship, though he clings to shadows in the hallways.]

[Most often, he can be found in common rooms, curled up on the best chair and watching the goings-on with barely-open yellow eyes. In the gardens, he naps in the flower beds and climbs into the thickest parts of low-growing trees. Here and there he can be found in boxes where he probably isn't supposed to be, seeming to look for small spaces and pressing himself into corners.]

[He also makes his best efforts to trip people, looking incredibly smug with every success.]

spam } vesper

[Don't ask how he got in here. Some things it's better not to question. But he's found Vesper's paperwork, which is suddenly the most fascinating and important thing in the world.]

[Whenever she comes back, he's rolling on his back in the middle of a mess of papers. Which are his now.]

Comments

[patheticvillain]

[Someone very important. It's at this point that Cassel is officially uncomfortable with the information he's getting without Francis knowing he's giving it, and pats at his shoulder several times with his paw to get his attention.]

[mightthinkthat]

[He looks at the cat, seeking attention, wondering what it wanted.]

[patheticvillain]

[He holds up his paw a little awkwardly - a stop, stay here gesture, or as close to one as he can manage - and hops down off the chair, slinking out of the room and quickly disappearing into a random empty cabin.]

[He's gone for several minutes. When he comes back around the corner, he's significantly taller and less furry. Looking a little sheepish, though, hands tucked in pockets and head cocked to one side.]

Hey. Can I sit?

[mightthinkthat]

[Francis isn't sure himself if he understands, so he just watches (always a good idea for that kind of situation) and when the cat disappears, he has no reason to leave, so he doesn't, going back to his book.

He looks up when he comes back and gives him a quizzical, if largely neutral expression.]

If you like.

[patheticvillain]

I do like.

[He sits in one of the other armchairs and gives Francis a decently serious look.]

So, that was me. The cat, I mean. I figured, if you were going to spill state secrets or whatever, you should at least know who you're talking to.

[mightthinkthat]

[He is a little rankled by this news and shifts slightly while he considers what he's said. He was slightly more open with the cat than he would have been, but nothing immediately catastrophic. He's not angry.] And who is that?

[patheticvillain]

Oh. Cassel. Cassel Sharpe.

[Belatedly, he reaches out a black-gloved hand.]

Sorry. I don't really know what post-cat etiquette is yet.

[mightthinkthat]

[He reaches for it.] Francis Urquhart. And I couldn't possibly tell you.

[patheticvillain]

I'll figure it out as I go along, I guess.

[He shakes and sits back.]

I can leave if you want. But if you wanted to finish talking, I can listen, too. Or we can talk about something else. As long as you don't try to kill me, I'm cool with it.

[mightthinkthat]

I was just talking about the differences between my world and the world this book has come from, that's all. [There'd be little point in killing him. Francis isn't a message-sending murderer, he kills people purely to protect himself.]

[patheticvillain]

[People always look for the differences rather than the similarities, it seems like. Cassel doesn't say that, just nods.]

So which one do you like better?

[mightthinkthat]

[If he had, Francis would have pointed out that that was the initial intention, before he realised the similarities were scarce on the ground.]

My own, naturally.