Curiosity Kills Cats (Open)

[KEAN GRANT]

✖✖
it doesn't matter if you're going mad

↝ ↝ ↝ ↝ it doesn't matter that this place is so, so sad

♬ ♪ ♫ ♬ ♪ ♫ ♬ ♪ ♫ ♬ ♪ ♫ ♬ ♪ ♫ ♬ ♪ ♫ ♬ ♪ ♫ ♬ ♪ ♫ ♬ ♪ ♫ ♬ ♪ ♫

"Get the cat a drink" they said!
"No, no, really, no!" I said!
"It's on us, buddy!" they said!
"No, I honestly couldn't." I should have said...

Kean had never really drank any beer before. The idea had never even occurred to him, somehow. He'd walked past bars and could tell just by the scent and the sounds inside that he wouldn't be able to afford whatever was being sold and probably didn't want anything to do with it either way. Just this once, however, he'd been tempted and had given in to his temptation, with a bit of prompting from some more frequent bar-goers. They'd invited him purely for the sake of seeing how it would be like when a shifter got drunk.

Kean had been standing at the door of Cloud Nine, looking in at the drinkers, when some people entering the bar asked him to come along with them. He'd refused the first few times since his cat-instincts were telling him he really shouldn't dare drink, but his human side told him quite plainly that he was of legal age and he ought to try the stuff while someone else was paying since it'd be his last chance to ever satisfy his curiosity. So, Kean had eventually agreed and entered the bar with them, and drank far more than any sensible person would mainly because if he didn't he feared his companions might get violent--something they looked very capable of, judging by their tattoos.

Several hours later it was past midnight, the bar had closed and everyone was gone. Except for Kean, who was curled up on the sidewalk some ways away from the bar. His ears twitched, each swiveling in a different direction, in an effort to catch sounds that didn't really exist. His pupils had turned into a pair of black slits in spite of it being dark, giving him a wild, untamed look. After a few moments, he tried to get up before flopping weakly back onto the ground and curling up again in the flexible way that only cats could manage. It occurred to Kean that he might possibly have been poisoned by the drink, as beer was toxic to cats, but at the moment he was far too confused to do anything about it.

A small, somewhat pitiful and more than a bit mournful M'ow escaped him, his tail flopping on the floor behind him. Kean managed to get up and struggled over to a wall, which he leaned his back against. He wondered just what sort of hangover he'd have in the morning. He then used a more human way of expressing his self-pity. "Damn." he hissed, weakly.

♬ ♪ ♫ ♬ ♪ ♫ ♬ ♪ ♫ ♬ ♪ ♫ ♬ ♪ ♫ ♬ ♪ ♫ ♬ ♪ ♫ ♬ ♪ ♫ ♬ ♪ ♫ ♬ ♪ ♫

On a nice day
     ↝ ↝ ↝ ↝ I don't care what they say

OOC: Anyone can feel free to either help him or kick him while he's down~
Words: 420

[VALERIE CONIGLIARO]

[atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=rules,none][atrb=valign,top][atrb=style,width:400px;background:#eee;border-radius:30px 0 30px 0;border:1px solid #e6e6e6;,true][atrb=style,padding-top:15px;][atrb=align,center] Donec gravida Valerie exhaled a wispy breath, her fingers gently playing across the tips of the wine glass. Her breath carried the sweet scent of grape wine. It was a simple treat for a long and tiring day, as her mind melted into the loud music playing in the background. One leg was crossed over the other, feet tucked into a pair of white sneakers. She wore a grey, long sleeved v-neck and her favorite washed denim shorts. The day had been incredibly tedious, snips of hair tumbling down upon her face. Her scary manager had once again scolded her while he was drunk, spitting all over her skin and yelling until his voice grew hoarse. And now here she was, drinking alcohol. How ironic. She was quite sure he was having a hard life, seeing that days similar to this were becoming more and more frequent. Valerie would be sitting quietly outside his office, waiting, but would be greeted with an insanely acting man accusing her of rushing him. Which was strange, because she knew that he knew she liked to arrive earlier than planned. Maybe it wasn't so fun at first, but she had thought he had gotten used to it after these past couple years. Perhaps not. Perhaps he was just storing all that fury up in his cranky little heart of his this entire time. Well, at least that was done and over with for today. Right now, her mind was becoming stranger and fuzzier while the drink trickled pleasingly into her stomach. Before her body could ache for more, she payed the bartender and removed herself from the bar. The smells of burning cigarettes left her nose, replaced by a sharp yet refreshing tang of air. There was only the slightest of breezes, but it was warm and offered a swirl of comfort while the alcohol sinked in. Valerie's body never tolerated the drinks, including the easy wine. Just another couple of glasses would have her hurling her soul out into the disgusting unsanitary public bathrooms. Or on the floor, of course, in case there was someone hooking up in there already. Unlike some people she knew, she wasn't a regular customer at bars and only liked to take a sip when the stress was overwhelming. Besides her manager acting up, there were other issues to deal with in the past few months. Valerie just stood in front of the building for a few minutes, staring blankly into the streets were cars were whipping much past the speed limit. Taxis fled right on past waving people, and a strange feeling formed in her gut when she realized she might not get a ride very soon. She could always walk to a nearby friend's house, but she didn't feel like socializing all that much right now. When a wasted woman almost fell over on top of her, she began to walk to... somewhere. Jamming her hands in her pockets, she wandered off in the darkness, occasionally using her cellphone to light up the way. She stopped walking when she heard a faint noise. Valerie swore it was a kitten's mew, but then again, it could be the wine. Considering she had nowhere to go in the first place, she took a few steps in the direction of the sound. "Damn." Okay, she definitely wasn't imagining things. If she was, then hooray: a new imaginary acquaintance. After clearing her throat, she tracked down the noise, which was coming from a wall. So... walls were talking now, where they? Valerie then realized she was being silly when she saw a man, after her eyes adjusted. There seemed to be a tail whacking the ground and a pair of cat ears perched on his head, but she payed no attention to those. He seemed terribly drunk, and she instinctively shook her head. Did people really not know how to drink responsibly? Reaching out a hand, she placed it on his shoulder. "Are you... are you alright?" With amusement, she realized that she must be at least two inches taller than him. Well, I guess that makes sense, if cats have to be very flexible and nimble. Hopefully she hadn't gotten herself into some situation where she'd have to find his house and drive him there. Not that she even had a car at the moment, so she might have to end up going to the police station. Dragging the boy along, of course. That could... that could be a nice experience, eh? words 752   tags kean,open   notes " kitties."   credit table made by greyson of ote

[KEAN GRANT]

✖✖
it doesn't matter if you're going mad

↝ ↝ ↝ ↝ it doesn't matter that this place is so, so sad

♬ ♪ ♫ ♬ ♪ ♫ ♬ ♪ ♫ ♬ ♪ ♫ ♬ ♪ ♫ ♬ ♪ ♫ ♬ ♪ ♫ ♬ ♪ ♫ ♬ ♪ ♫ ♬ ♪ ♫

I did NOT see her coming.
I didn't even scent her.
I think maybe I had two bottles too much.
Well, that's probably pretty obvious...

His ears swiveled to the sound of approaching footsteps, but dismissed them as part of the many other imaginary sounds he was hearing. Kean was more cat than he was human, and so the effects of alcohol on him were a bit more intense. He kept his eyes closed as he focused on regaining his balance, but he found he couldn't do much more than cling to the wall. Some small part of him wailed out "S.O.S.!" in the depths of his brain, but all his other thoughts were far to jumbled for him to put together and make sense out of.

When a hand touched him, however, Kean flinched somewhat, almost expecting his previous company to have returned to further intimidate him into doing things he would regret, but when a female voice asked if he was alright, he relaxed immediately with relief. Kean turned and aimed a somewhat lopsided grin at the girl and opened his mouth to speak, but snapped it shut again quickly as a wave of nausea rushed over him, making him shudder. He held up a finger in the "One Moment" motion, which wasn't a good idea since letting go of the wall made him slide back down the wall and plop down limply onto his side, like a sleeping cat someone had been holding up and had decided to let go of.

Kean let out a weak Mrow of annoyance. "Yanno," he mumbled. "Thishish--In the movies this ish where the protog-...pro-... pra-....'nist... the main guy says something cool." he waved a hand vaguely. "Like 'You should see the other guy' or mebbe 'I'll live to fight anotha day.' or some other crap like that." Kean's tail continued to flop and thump against the floor aimlessly. He was only slightly aware of what he was saying. Had he not been himself and had been someone else, he would be apologizing for himself and saying something like 'Please excuse my little brother. He goes nutters when he's drunk.', possibly while smiling pleasantly. He would then have asked her if she wanted to go grab a coffee while said little brother regained his sanity, or at least stopped his tail flopping wildly like a fish out of water.

Pupils still slits and unable to focus, Kean tried to make out the girl attempting to help him. She looked pretty enough, from what he could tell, though he face was something of a blur. Her voice was soothing, however, to his malfunctioning ears, and a loud purr started up in his throat. He could well be dying, but at least it sounded like someone might actually care. Or maybe be frightened enough by the sight of a dead man to go get some help and possibly convince someone to give him a proper burial with tiger lilies on his coffin. The flowers might be pushing it, though.

Kean attempted to regain some dignity, struggling into sitting position. "Nyeh, Idunnow...." his words came out sounding a bit like meows. "Nevaa, evaa go drin-kin' wit' thugs. Nevaa." he pointed a threatening finger at the girl.

♬ ♪ ♫ ♬ ♪ ♫ ♬ ♪ ♫ ♬ ♪ ♫ ♬ ♪ ♫ ♬ ♪ ♫ ♬ ♪ ♫ ♬ ♪ ♫ ♬ ♪ ♫ ♬ ♪ ♫

On a nice day
     ↝ ↝ ↝ ↝ I don't care what they say

Words: I'm not in the mood to remove his stuttering and make a proper count. >w>

[VALERIE CONIGLIARO]

[atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=rules,none][atrb=valign,top][atrb=style,width:400px;background:#eee;border-radius:30px 0 30px 0;border:1px solid #e6e6e6;,true][atrb=style,padding-top:15px;][atrb=align,center] Donec gravida When the man began to ramble nonsense, she understood that he was completely and utterly wasted. There probably was not a drop of sanity left in his vulnerable little body. She could smell the sharp, strong scent of beer floating about. Although, she wouldn't deny, it was a nice and alluring aroma. The shifter proceeded to fall over in a heap on the ground, which is when she realized that she couldn't just leave him alone like this. He mewed like a helpless little kitten, and threw in a accusatory, pointed finger as well. "Don't worry, I know when enough is enough. Unlike somebody here..." she sighed, muttering the last few words under her breath. Valerie squatted down until they were eye level, inspecting him carefully. It almost seemed like he was exhaling alcohol, with the amount of stench he was covered in. Many of his features weren't very to easy to point out, considering there weren't any lights nearby. She could see the street lamps just a bit farther away, but it didn't give her the light she wanted. But it seemed like he had long hair, which she tucked behind his ear neatly. It was obvious that asking for an address would be near impossible, if not completely. But hopefully she could get something out of that mangled mouth of his. "So, what's your name?" She spoke slowly, praying intensely that he could reply properly. Having a unique or strange name would be nice, so the police could find his house or family for him. Valerie didn't even consider bringing him to her house, since that would definitely become a ruckus and someone would clearly wonder why there was an unknown man sleeping in her house. She knew she wasn't the kind of woman to go around having one night stands, but she wasn't so sure the public did. Okay, fine - it's happened once or twice before. But she got away with it, and those men were never to be seen again. Thankfully the ground was dry, so she plopped herself down next to him and stared at the sky. There were no stars, and the moon was hiding partially behind a cloud. She could hear no singing birds or chirping crickets. Only the sounds of distant crowds and honking horns filled her ears, although the sounds of passing cars soothed her somewhat. As she shifted, she heard a crinkling noise coming from her clutch purse. Remembering that there was a snack in there, she pulled it out and unwrapped it slowly. It unraveled a rather scrumptious looking, chocolate drizzled granola bar, which she happily took a large bit out of. The granola bar was the only thing that seemed right right now, and it calmed her senses. Somewhat. When she was about to take her last bite, she looked over at the drunk shifter, and just shoved it in his mouth. "Eat it." she commanded, though it was obvious that was the only thing to do. Valerie wasn't even sure he could understand what she was saying, but it was worth a try. Having something other than beer in his stomach might do something, right? With a somewhat warm hand, she grabbed the man's wrist and attempted to pull him up after sitting up herself. He looked petite, but felt a bit heavier than herself, causing difficulty. Her eyes scanned his body, hoping he may have some kind of cellphone or ID tag on him somewhere. Come on, come on, come on... Though, if she succeeded in pulling him onto his feet, where would she take him? She wasn't sure, but she hoped a miracle would happen and someone would pick him up. words 620   tags kean,open   notes "i should be doing work, but there was a microscopic spark of muse so i jumped out of bed and typed this up quickly. i hope it's not too bad. now i shall go take a shower xD"   credit table made by greyson of ote

[KEAN GRANT]

✖✖
it doesn't matter if you're going mad

↝ ↝ ↝ ↝ it doesn't matter that this place is so, so sad

♬ ♪ ♫ ♬ ♪ ♫ ♬ ♪ ♫ ♬ ♪ ♫ ♬ ♪ ♫ ♬ ♪ ♫ ♬ ♪ ♫ ♬ ♪ ♫ ♬ ♪ ♫ ♬ ♪ ♫

Oh, yay.
Chocolate.
A light glaze of kitty poison.
This girl was sent to kill me.

Kean gave a dry laugh as he caught her muttered words. Unlike somebody indeed. His cat-ears were, after all, able to pick up most any sound nearby, and they picked up the muttered words especially easily in spite of his intoxication mainly because he was already trying to focus on the girl. It seemed that seeing a helpless drunk had miffed her somewhat. Interesting. And now that she'd crouched down to his level, he could scent that she'd been drinking as well, though certainly not as much as he had. But then she probably hadn't had a group of possibly-violent creeps as her drinking partners.

He couldn't help but laugh again when she pushed his hair away from his face and neatly behind his ear. His cat-ears perked as she asked his name. He opened his mouth and paused for a moment, as he wondered whether to answer or not. As it was, he didn't know just why she was asking, and she looked like the sort do-gooder who might get weird ideas. Like taking him to her home or dropping him off at an animal shelter. But then, did he really care if she did either of those things? No, not really. "Kean.." he began, then paused yet again and decided to leave out his last name. "And I forget the rest." he lied, vaguely waving a hand around. "What about yours?" he grinned at her. Kean didn't know if she'd give it or not. Most people generally didn't want a drunk bum knowing their names.

As she plopped down beside him, however, Kean angled himself to see her more clearly. She really was pretty, with silky long hair and round eyes aimed upward. She then seemed to remember something and began to rummage in her purse. Finding a granola bar, she unwrapped it and took a bite. She seemed to be wholeheartedly enjoying it, which was somewhat cute to Kean's eyes. When she pushed the last bite into his mouth, however, Kean's first reaction was to stifle his impulse to spit it out in the way that was the usual reaction of a cat upon having something pushed into its mouth. (Yes, Kean had to be held down and force-fed pills.) But he swallowed it eventually, not really bothering to chew. He shuddered, as his previous nausea returned once more. "Gee," he coughed. "Thanks." but it did help sober him up a bit.

As the girl pulled at him, trying to get him to sit up, Kean figured it was safe enough to move and sat up by himself. "Alright, alright." he said, struggling to stay upright. "I know I don't make a pretty welcome mat. And I haven't got anything on me," he added, when he noticed her scanning his person. "I think they took my wallet. Well, it wasn't very full anyway." he laughed, weakly, finally getting his tail to stop wriggling and keeping it from unbalancing him. Feeling tired, however, he leaned on the girl, putting an arm around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder. He meowed, cheerfully, and nuzzled her neck in a friendly manner as a rumbling purr started up in his throat. "No, really, though, thanks. That bite helped." his tail swished behind him, no longer flailing crazily as it had been before. Maybe the beer wouldn't kill him yet. Though, he was pretty sure he'd never try and drink any ever again.

Of course, he could still joke about it. "Say," he hummed. "I ought to invite you to come with next time. You'd keep me from getting hit by cars like the stray I am." he reached out with his free hand to play with her hair. Cats didn't mind getting physical with people who were technically strangers, after all, once they were shown a bit of kindness they'd rub themselves happily against anyone. And Kean was just the same.

♬ ♪ ♫ ♬ ♪ ♫ ♬ ♪ ♫ ♬ ♪ ♫ ♬ ♪ ♫ ♬ ♪ ♫ ♬ ♪ ♫ ♬ ♪ ♫ ♬ ♪ ♫ ♬ ♪ ♫

On a nice day
     ↝ ↝ ↝ ↝ I don't care what they say

Words: 653

[VALERIE CONIGLIARO]

[atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=rules,none][atrb=valign,top][atrb=style,width:400px;background:#eee;border-radius:30px 0 30px 0;border:1px solid #e6e6e6;,true][atrb=style,padding-top:15px;][atrb=align,center] Donec gravida Okay, so he was sober enough to remember his name. Kean, was it? Nice and simple. Valerie sighed in relief, but sucked the air back in when he claimed to have forgotten to rest. Well, okay then... that meant she couldn't be the hero and find his home for him, which also meant that she might have to go through some more trouble if she wanted to be a good citizen and not leave him alone here. No, that would definitely not be a very good idea, considering he was in such a vulnerable condition. When she was asked for her own name, she hesitated. Valerie really didn't mind giving out her name openly, but considered the fact that Kean was very well drunk. She didn't know anything about him, only his face and his name (which might not even be his real one, for that matter). In fact, the boy could even be a mass murderer, and she could be the next lucky victim. But she trusted her gut and believed that he probably wasn't such a bad person, and replied with the truth. "Valerie. Or just Val, if you'd prefer." It took a couple minutes to register the fact that chocolate probably wasn't very good for cats. At least he seemed to be a bit thankful, even though his face clearly showed signs of nausea. She would have apologized, but he thanked her again, so he kept her mouth shut. "Say, I ought to invite you to come with next time. You'd keep me from getting hit by cars like the stray I am." Valerie laughed heartily, waving a hand in the air. "No way. I'm like, the most boring-est person you'll ever meet." Okay, so he was homeless. She didn't exactly know what to think of that, since he didn't look like he was starving or lacking care. In fact, she would never have guessed that he lived on the streets. So that would mean that she could just leave him here and go... but that would feel kind of inhumane. Taking him to her house was obviously not an option, but she could take him to a hotel room or something until he recovered from his soon-to-experience hangover. If she was lucky, he wouldn't even remember her nor the conversation they were having right now. But suggesting that would probably offend him, so Valerie simply gave up thinking about what to do with him and let go of him. Looking at him made her pity him more and more, and would make her think of the random stray animals occasionally roaming along the streets. Kean began to play with her hair, which was a little strange to her. She didn't say anything, and just sat back down next to him. "You know, sitting around here all night while being drunk isn't such a good idea." words 477   tags kean,open   notes "uh, okay. good muse, but bad post. forgive me x) lots of rambling is gonna go down."   credit table made by greyson of ote