03-25-2020, 04:20 AM
[align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; line-height: 250%; font-family: karla; font-size: 6pt; letter-spacing: 1.5px; word-spacing: 0px; margin-top: 10px;"]
atticus knows, for absolutely certain, that if he were an animal, he'd be a cat.
one might assume, personality wise, he'd be a dog. some big, goofy thing, with floppy ears and a tongue that doesn't stay in his mouth. but he was a cat, just not one of the asshole ones. one of those strays that approached anyone, passing out love and affection freely, in hopes for a treat, be it a good petting or something edible. he was almost pushy in his social interactions, often showing up unwelcome and refusing to fuck off.
you tell a dog to go away enough, and like the simple creatures they are, they do; cats, like atticus, come back until they've worn you down and forced you into tolerating their companionship. similarly, dogs were loyal, staying with whoever showed them enough love, whereas cats (and, again, cat-man himself) followed whatever it was that made them into strays in the first place. they went where they desired, moving along without much care or hesitation. more than once, he'd picked up in the middle of the night, long gone by dawn.
thus, cat-man came swindling up, hands in his pockets, brandishing a grin at the sight of the two men and the blonde. [color=#53757f]"gorgeous and a cat person?" he says immediately, never one for shyness, [color=#53757f]"you're the whole damn package." he's a flirt, had been his entire life, and there's no expectation behind his words or his gaze. he doesn't check her out, doesn't go for a once-over.
he does, however, look at the cat, and something shifts in his eyes. brightens, excites, comes alive. [color=#53757f]"holy fuck, look at it though," he says excitedly, and without much care or hesitation, drops to a crouch, peering at the creature. [color=#53757f]"is it a dude or a lady? or are we not, like, assigning it gender?" he demands, glancing up at winnie with curiosity.
atticus knows, for absolutely certain, that if he were an animal, he'd be a cat.
one might assume, personality wise, he'd be a dog. some big, goofy thing, with floppy ears and a tongue that doesn't stay in his mouth. but he was a cat, just not one of the asshole ones. one of those strays that approached anyone, passing out love and affection freely, in hopes for a treat, be it a good petting or something edible. he was almost pushy in his social interactions, often showing up unwelcome and refusing to fuck off.
you tell a dog to go away enough, and like the simple creatures they are, they do; cats, like atticus, come back until they've worn you down and forced you into tolerating their companionship. similarly, dogs were loyal, staying with whoever showed them enough love, whereas cats (and, again, cat-man himself) followed whatever it was that made them into strays in the first place. they went where they desired, moving along without much care or hesitation. more than once, he'd picked up in the middle of the night, long gone by dawn.
thus, cat-man came swindling up, hands in his pockets, brandishing a grin at the sight of the two men and the blonde. [color=#53757f]"gorgeous and a cat person?" he says immediately, never one for shyness, [color=#53757f]"you're the whole damn package." he's a flirt, had been his entire life, and there's no expectation behind his words or his gaze. he doesn't check her out, doesn't go for a once-over.
he does, however, look at the cat, and something shifts in his eyes. brightens, excites, comes alive. [color=#53757f]"holy fuck, look at it though," he says excitedly, and without much care or hesitation, drops to a crouch, peering at the creature. [color=#53757f]"is it a dude or a lady? or are we not, like, assigning it gender?" he demands, glancing up at winnie with curiosity.