GIRLS GIRLS GIRLS~

[giraffeswitheyepatches]

[It's like Boys Boys Boys but not really. Because all you get is girls. At least, that seems to be the case here, with whatever bar or street or shopping center you happen to be in is full of them. It's a textbook case of heeeey sexy lady.]

[Maybe there's a familiar face in the crowd. Maybe there isn't. Maybe someone isn't paying any attention to where they're going and they crash right into you. So... who do you cross paths with?]

Comments

[croweyedgirl]

[There are some things that Neasa has taken a liking to as a human. Alcohol is one of the things she's taken to rather enthusiastically. She'll be having a whiskey sour at the bar and people watching.]

[singthewarhymns]

[Cheverion has suppressed her true form for the sake of blending, hiding the feathers and radiance that would confound and terrify the average mortal. If her child was so intent on spending so much time on this lack-luster plane of existence, she supposed she might as well see what all his fuss was about. (And to make sure they where treating him well, of course.)]

[So this "bar" was on her list of places to visit and scope out, written amongst others on a neat piece of paper that held suggestions in various scrawls. The compilation of names of human landmarks was... odd, but a decent starting point none the less.]

[...whether or not they carried anything she would actually drink here was another story.]

[croweyedgirl]

[Neasa was still people watching when Cheverion came into the bar, carrying a similar vibe to one of her least favorite things. Except normally she's not three drinks into her evening when she encounters something like this.]

[So first thing she says when Cheverion sits down at the bar?]

...You are not the cat.

[singthewarhymns]

[She's somewhat startled by the off hand comment that was clearly made to her, but by a mortal she's never seen before. Or has even introduced themselves.]

I am certainly not a cat. What is wrong with your eyes?

[Maybe some mortals where just particularly blind.]

[croweyedgirl]

Nothing. I have good eyesight. [She sips her drink.] And I did not say 'a cat' I said 'the cat'.

You are not the cat but you are like him.

Except you look less annoying.

[singthewarhymns]

Well, I am glad to be up to your standards.

[If it wasn't for the fact she had a cover to keep and the girl had obviously had far too many glasses, Cheverion might have taken more offense. But she was only mildly annoyed and more confused than anything. And surely she wasn't talking about who she thought she was talking about]

There is only one I know of that can be The Cat, and should he show his conniving face here I shall put him in his place.

[croweyedgirl]

[She laughs at that, absolutely delighted. Her voice is crow caw rough and she doesn't care.]

I like you. You are much better. I am sick of him following me around.

[singthewarhymns]

How typical of that mangy beast. Always appearing where he is least welcome.

[There is something... different about this girl, although Cheverion cannot place it and does not care to delve further. The affairs of mortal races outside of her domain are of little concern to her.]

Tell me, what do you call yourself? And what does the cat want with you?

[croweyedgirl]

I am named Neasa, though it is not my name.

[Her crow name isn't easy to pronounce, not with clumsy human lips and tongue. She drains her drink and then makes a vague gesture.]

What do all cats want? To pull out tail feathers and play at hunting. I yell at him for it so he is amused.