private REMINDS ME OF EDEN — MOJITO

[KENOBI]

Juxtaposition: the tangibility of light. Within his twolegs' den, they command light and shadow, but out here, separated from boundless air only by walls of thinnest mesh, the light has agency. He never thought of it as a living creature before, but its warm presence on his fur is like an invisible press of his mother's snout. It must be alive, as alive as everything else it touches. He wants to do the same. He wants to reach beyond for the young grass, shaking off the last chill of winter. He wants to brush his paws over the birds and learn whether the texture of their feathers is like his own pelt, or softer, as they appear to be.

His twolegs are not cruel, and he loves them as he loves his mother, but suspending him here, so close yet impossibly far from the whole of everything— what torture.

A questing touch passes over the screen, then returns, firmer, testing its yield. If he is not meant to find a way through, why tease him with freedom? Obi leaps up onto the nearby tower and shoves his nose against the strange web, searching for a taste of the breeze that bends the tree leaves.

︿.𖥔 ݁ ˖︿ INFORMATION​

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[MOJITO]

They were laughing again, and this was as good a time as any to slip through the tear in their screen door. He had discovered it a whole lifetime ago now, but each day he had to widen it bit by bit. They called him this word, sometimes like they said treat but sometimes like they said no! — Mojito was chunky. An unbaked potato, an overstuffed cream puff, a rotten little egg, sometimes even a fucking no good fucking little THIEF, you dumbass little–!

Only when he'd done something super naughty, like trying to make a nest out of their very nest-shaped boxes that they filled with wonderful warm things to make nests out of, or spent just a liiiittle too long outside and scared them. Or at least he thinks that's what it is, because they yell at him and then hug him and point at the screen door and yell at each other some more. And, inevitably, nothing would change and Mojito would slip out that screen door again, always just a little bit harder than it was the day before, and bolt off under the garden fence, where they also had a conveniently Mojito-sized hole they had left just for him.

A few minutes sneaking between the dens and something above his head quakes.

Mojito's belly hits the dirt. His limbs splay chaotically, saucer-wide eyes turned upwards. Something above his head rustles. Squirrel? No, not squirrel. He takes a deep breath. There's a sound. His paws scramble frantically over the earth, jostling leaves and fresh stems of grass. His bravery knows no bounds. The cat breaths in, and exhales: "Mrr?"

I GET UNDER YOUR SKIN  ╱╱ 03.04.2024 THEN I SLIP AWAY  ˚ ༘`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

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  MOJITO ╱ *. ⋆ 6 MOONS OLD. A YOUNG INDOOR/OUTDOOR KITTYPET WITH SOMEWHAT NEGLIGENT (YET DECENT) OWNERS. PENNED BY REVELATIONS. ————— a thick-furred, pale cinnamon lynx point with low white and soft blue eyes. he seems well-fed beneath his somewhat ragged coat, but has a general messy look to him as if he has been recently tangled in. . . something.
• "speech"

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[KENOBI]

He isn't proud of it, but he licks the strange, sturdy webbing— simply to test whether that might weaken it, like how his special, tasty food softens when he drops it in the bubbling water. It does not work. Worse, it's foul, and he wrinkles his nose and shakes his head, licking his lips until he tastes fur more than painful bitterness. If he must resort to biting his way through the mesh, Obi realizes it will hardly be a pleasant process. He will just have to try his claws, first, but just as he starts eyeing the secluded corner across the way, a voice rises from beneath him. It isn't one of his twolegs mimicking his own tongue, or speaking quite seriously to him after he tested just how far he could pull the flat, white tail from the hard-floored room.

He attempts to see below the platform, but from his tower, the angle is poor. Obi hops down to ground level cautiously and again shoves his head against the screen, this time to see beyond the corner. "Hello!" Obi strains against it further, catching a glimpse of pale fur. "If you are a friend, you're welcome to be here— but if you aren't, I must ask you to leave. I'm very busy and I only make exceptions for friends."

︿.𖥔 ݁ ˖︿ INFORMATION​

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[MOJITO]

His breathing quickens and settles again over the course of just a few words, and the shifting of whatever, or — whoever is above him is met with a few shuffling slides of his own. Mojito is still pressed belly-down to the earth, the fur along his back a little bit puffed up, and even still he shuffles into the stranger's line of sight, his own large eyes still turned skyward. Wonder immediately settles his unease. The only cat he'd seen since they took him from that warm belly is the one on the big screen they put on sometimes to keep him company! He knows they'll be gone for soooo long when they do that, and the not-pushy barrier is always put in place when they do. So Mojito watches the cat in its box change colors and sizes, then he goes and eats his kibble and falls right on asleep.

This one doesn't change voices though. And it sure does seem like that was meant for him! Cautious yet emboldened, Mojito stretches up. First onto all his paws and then onto only the back two, standing wobbly and tottery to sniff at where that cat is so far off away. (He, of course, is met by the same foul-smelling thing instead.) Then they are face to face, and Mojito lands hard back down on earth. His tail puffs up like his back had. "Well!" Mojito stammers despite himself. "You can't make me leave! So I guess. . . we're friends?" he offers. The pale puff pushes his face closer to the mesh, wary of the sudden burst of not-him not-dirt scent. "What are you busy with, anyway? I'm– I'm busy too! I just wanna know if it's the same busy, you know."

I GET UNDER YOUR SKIN  ╱╱ 03.04.2024 THEN I SLIP AWAY  ˚ ༘`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

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  MOJITO ╱ *. ⋆ 6 MOONS OLD. A YOUNG INDOOR/OUTDOOR KITTYPET WITH SOMEWHAT NEGLIGENT (YET DECENT) OWNERS. PENNED BY REVELATIONS. ————— a thick-furred, pale cinnamon lynx point with low white and soft blue eyes. he seems well-fed beneath his somewhat ragged coat, but has a general messy look to him as if he has been recently tangled in. . . something.
• "speech"

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[KENOBI]

His coloring is quite different than Kenobi's siblings and parents. He looks— well, simply put, he looks like the very warmth of light he was just marveling over moments ago, and when he declares himself a friend, Kenobi has no reason to doubt him. He's heard appearances can be deceiving, but he decides very quickly that this cat would make for a poor liar. "Then friends we must be," he agrees with a firm nod, whiskers glancing uncomfortably off of the strange mesh. He does not, however, move away from the stranger's inquisitive snout; he is sniffing Obi, and he can respect curiosity, so he does the same.

He smells...different, of course. Hm. "Since you are my friend, I suppose I can tell you: I aim to leave this place. Temporarily, mind you! But as you can see"—he presses a paw against the screen—"there is a slight snag." Obi refuses to consider it may be more severe than that. "What about you? How did you escape your den?"

︿.𖥔 ݁ ˖︿ INFORMATION​

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[MOJITO]

"Well," he begins again, and is quite suddenly right back in his element. The kitten straightens his shoulders and steadies his eyes, gazing around the enclosure like a warrior for prey. "You just have to find the right corner."His nose presses into the mesh. Wuff of breath. A sneeze as he jerks back, and Mojito shakes his head. Not there. A few steps, another testing press of his muzzle. (It does not occur to him that his paw would cause far less distress. This is, after all, how he leaves his own den. He pushes his face in until everything squeezes out! Surely every den is just the same.) The sturdy pillars at its corners do not budge, much like the ones in his den that he pushes against when the twolegs are sitting and not giving him their food.

"You just gotta find where it opens! It's tricky, sometimes. 'Specially when you're too big to get out right away! See the little holes?" His fur sticks through them as he presses his face right back into it. "Bet you haven't been that small for a real long time!"

I GET UNDER YOUR SKIN  ╱╱ 03.04.2024 THEN I SLIP AWAY  ˚ ༘`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

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  MOJITO ╱ *. ⋆ 6 MOONS OLD. A YOUNG INDOOR/OUTDOOR KITTYPET WITH SOMEWHAT NEGLIGENT (YET DECENT) OWNERS. PENNED BY REVELATIONS. ————— a thick-furred, pale cinnamon lynx point with low white and soft blue eyes. he seems well-fed beneath his somewhat ragged coat, but has a general messy look to him as if he has been recently tangled in. . . something.
• "speech"

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[KENOBI]

Obi isn't often speechless. He talks often to his twolegs, though they rarely seem to understand (he hopes in time, they will begin to correlate sound with meaning, as he did when he learned to speak). He doesn't see his mother much anymore, but when he used to live with her, she said he could hold a conversation for two people. Watching his friend press against the hole-riddled walls, listening to his spoken thought process— Obi is appalled. More than that, he is speechless. He blinks, frowns, then opens his mouth. Closes it.

"Hm." The paler cat goes right on testing the odd mesh, and Kenobi takes the opportunity to collect himself. It's no fault of his friend's if he's a bit simple, is it? That's no reason to treat him any differently, save perhaps avoiding topics of complexity. "I have not, no. A very, very long time. Anyway, I suspect we won't find a hole big enough to slip through— we might very well have to make one. Are you...familiar with making holes?"

︿.𖥔 ݁ ˖︿ INFORMATION​

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[MOJITO]

"No." This is said simply, as if this stranger has missed something terribly obvious. His face is no longer pressed against the mesh. This time, Mojito enunciates more clearly: "The hole is there. You just need to find it. My den has a hole. All of them have to." Perhaps cats who live in strange boxes like this one simply will never know the freedom of a hole. What a sad, simple life he must lead, without holes in the mesh to squeeze through. Mojito promises to himself that he will not stop his search. For the sake of his newfound friend. A few prowling strides further along the box. Without explanation, he does use his paw this time. "There's a little hole, and I push real hard and pop right through. Maybe you're just too fat." He frowns at this terrible thought.

"Why do you want to get out, anyway? Are you going to go join the wild cats too?" Mojito cannot imagine this cat outside of his tower. But it would probably be fun to tussle with him a little bit.

I GET UNDER YOUR SKIN  ╱╱ 03.04.2024 THEN I SLIP AWAY  ˚ ༘`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

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• 
  
  MOJITO ╱ *. ⋆ 6 MOONS OLD. A YOUNG INDOOR/OUTDOOR KITTYPET WITH SOMEWHAT NEGLIGENT (YET DECENT) OWNERS. PENNED BY REVELATIONS. ————— a thick-furred, pale cinnamon lynx point with low white and soft blue eyes. he seems well-fed beneath his somewhat ragged coat, but has a general messy look to him as if he has been recently tangled in. . . something.
• "speech"

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[KENOBI]

He seems quite confident that every den is the same. So much so, in fact, that Obi is a little insulted; if his den had such a feature, he would have found it. His friend doesn't understand that and continues testing the length of the den, and just as Obi is feeling flattered that he would go to such lengths, he does insult him. "I beg your pardon!" He stamps his paw once, then twice for good measure. "That is absurd, you — you—" Obi's cheeks bulge slightly as he inhales deeply, and then he deflates. No, he should not call his friend a miscreant, even if he did insinuate Kenobi is fat; that would be rude, and his mother wouldn't tolerate it.

He exhales, sitting down and resolutely not pouting. His frown clears the moment he speaks of wild cats, interest piqued, and, slights momentarily forgotten, leans forward so his nose brushes the screen. "Wild cats? I've never heard of them before. What are they like? Other than wild, of course."

︿.𖥔 ݁ ˖︿ INFORMATION​

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[MOJITO]

Mojito squints at him, puzzled, and quite nearly defiant in the face of his own defiance– like he just can't help but get angry when someone else gets angry. (Sometimes he'll bite his twolegs whenever they're yelling. It makes them stop, though they usually yell at him just a little more first.) "The other dens have holes big enough to let out whole grown up cats, you'll get out eventually!" he instead consoles.

Choosing to give up on their adventure for the time being, the young kitten flops back down to the dirt in a puddle of fluffy white. His ears and tail both flick and he puffs out a sharp breath. "I dunno, I haven't gotten to talk to them yet. Some of the other cats go there! One of my neighbors! I hear they eat kittens and fight foxes! They're probably soooo big. They could probably find the hole in your den!" Already the idea lights Mojito's pale eyes. He would lead a wild cat right over here, they would tear his friend free, and they would go off and live with the wild cats together and fight foxes and — well. Maybe he didn't wanna eat kittens. They could probably still come home for dinner, right?

I GET UNDER YOUR SKIN  ╱╱ 03.04.2024 THEN I SLIP AWAY  ˚ ༘`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

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  MOJITO ╱ *. ⋆ 6 MOONS OLD. A YOUNG INDOOR/OUTDOOR KITTYPET WITH SOMEWHAT NEGLIGENT (YET DECENT) OWNERS. PENNED BY REVELATIONS. ————— a thick-furred, pale cinnamon lynx point with low white and soft blue eyes. he seems well-fed beneath his somewhat ragged coat, but has a general messy look to him as if he has been recently tangled in. . . something.
• "speech"

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[KENOBI]

He decides —and it is very much a decision, and a difficult one— not to respond to yet another comment on his size. It's possible he isn't aware of what he's just insinuated; not everyone can be as thoughtful as Kenobi, after all, and his friend seems quite far from it. He won't say that, either, and he's grateful when the other cat finally launches into an explanation of these so-called wild cats.

However, it is not a particularly...comforting revelation. Quite the opposite, really. "Your neighbor eats kittens?" He asks dubiously, a bit skeptical about his friend's reliability. "On that note, you thought I wanted to visit these kitten-eaters? You want to invite them to my den? I hope you understand why I find your idea a tad...troublesome."

︿.𖥔 ݁ ˖︿ INFORMATION​

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[MOJITO]

"You could just say you're too scared," he says, and rolls onto his back as if he is very much not scared. One big, puffy paw reaches up and spreads out so that silvery claws can catch on the surface and tug. It makes a weird little sound, so he does it again. "Just stop being a kitten and you'll be fine!" Because that is most definitely how logic and aging work. (Is he wrong? If he thinks of himself as a warrior, does he act more like one? If his friend got out of this cage, would he change?) Whatever kind of thought that was, it makes Mojito's face scrunch up a bit. His paw is still stuck in the mesh of his den and stays there while he frowns away that thought, eventually freeing it for a final swat at the cloud.

Though he knows he's likely late to the conversation, Mojito still blurts out, "It's not troublesome! You'll see." The words leave him just in time for an ominous clatter to resound from the stranger's den, somewhere above where he had first hidden. Whatever that was, it usually meant his twolegs were trying to find him. (No matter that this was not his den or his twolegs.) He should probably get back, huh? The wild cats can wait. At least until tomorrow, when he most definitely proves his friend wrong about his idea.

His fluffy tail is three leaps away before he remembers, spinning briefly around: "Bye!" And then he slips through a bush and is gone.

I GET UNDER YOUR SKIN  ╱╱ 03.04.2024 THEN I SLIP AWAY  ˚ ༘`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

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  MOJITO ╱ *. ⋆ 5 MOONS OLD. A YOUNG INDOOR/OUTDOOR KITTYPET WITH SOMEWHAT NEGLIGENT (YET DECENT) OWNERS. PENNED BY REVELATIONS. ————— a thick-furred, pale cinnamon lynx point with low white and soft blue eyes. he seems well-fed beneath his somewhat ragged coat, but has a general messy look to him as if he has been recently tangled in. . . something.
• "speech"

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