Flat Refusal"No." One word, massive ripple effect.
Scratching at My Chamber DoorClaws in the carpet at odd hoursShavings of wood from the floorWaking me or shaking meOr interrupting the movieIt's not always about food(Though we'll have that too, thanks)Something is amiss andYou want to tell me, I knowMy cats are perhaps very selfishOr keeping a rein on my miseryButWhat do you know that I don't?
Prototype: Chapter TwoChapter Two: AloneSarge and MarcoFerris were silent for many seconds, after which Sarge nodded once. "I'll call it in, and let someone else decide." His head turned from MarcoFerris to me. "Alpha, do you understand what classified means?"The technical definition was not hard to find. What contextually it meant took me several seconds to process. "I understand information being refused to an individual or individuals for a stated purpose." Among the masters, information was rarely refused, except in situations like my testing, where my access to the results might have altered the test results. But most of the masters simply did not access data that was not relevant to their position, there was never a 'classified' rejection.Sarge was nodding. "I am in charge of this mission, and I want you to consider all information about your personal history classified. Marco and I are the only ones on this mission who understand that you were once human, and that you knew Marco.
Veni, Vidi... Meow? Chapter OnePersistent mewing gradually permeated the industrious bubble that surrounded Grant and the pile of coursework he needed to grade. When he realized he had a crick in his neck from being hunched over the desk so long, he sighed and leaned back in his chair. The sofa was looking awfully inviting...But there was that mewing again. His neighbor must've accidentally closed her cat out again. Grant rubbed the back of his neck and looked from the half-empty pack of cigarettes to the window where the fire escape was. Quitting was going to have to wait until after he finished this class. He grabbed the pack in one tired fist and made his way to the window, clambering out onto the fenced metal grating outside to smoke."Hey Trouble," he greeted the gray tabby cat sitting at the next window. The cat returned his greeting with a glare of displeasure and refused to comment. "It can't be as bad as all that," Greg told the cat, and he could've sworn the cat rolled his eyes. Chuckling, he leaned down
Prototype: Chapter OneTransmission StartSWYgeW91IGNhbiByZWFkIHRoaXMgeW91J3JlIGEgbGl0dGxlIHJpZGljdWxvdXMuIE9yIG5vc3kuI remember many things I am not supposed to. This was a problem for my makers, not having seen the possibility beforehand. Even among my run, I knew more of my past than my brothers, who professed no such knowledge and received perfect marks from my masters while I was considered inferior for such cluttered memory banks. Such wide margins of error between individuals of the same model became the chief concern that delayed and eventually shut down the prototype program entirely. It is too bad my brothers were not of scientific interest to our makers, perhaps more of us would have survived the program termination.Of that particular program, which the humans have taken to calling 'Next-Generation' for lack of better options, I was told later that I was the first in the line of fourteen individuals. It is possible that this was the cause of my difference from my brothers, but g
Jumping AheadNota bene: hypotheses are not conclusions.
My Reality, My FantasyI like my fantasy world, thanks.
Julie: Character Sketch"Julie!"The brunette lying pretzel-shaped in the child-sized treehouse didn't move a muscle when her mother's voice floated out the kitchen door. Her hands remained steady as she painted the white t-shirt in front of her, the black cat in the foreground taking shape over the graffiti and posters in the background, all more or less the same things that had been hanging up around town lately. She hoped Elle would see the band poster, anyway. The rest were just to set the mood of the painting."Julie, I know you're up there!"Julianne tilted her head to check that the smudges around the edges of the paintable area were even, but it looked pretty good for an afternoon's work. The brick faded out at about the right rate. One more down, just--"JULIE!""What, ma?" The teen had to toss her ponytail back out of her way so her long curly hair didn't hang in the painted Christmas gift. She really should've tied it up tighter to keep strands from falling in her work, but it was far too late now.
The Ghost of Eleanor MerchantOh, but please call me Ella, everyone does. Or did. Everyone except my darling daughter, of course, she usually stuck with 'mom'. Not that she'd been around recently, I admit. Not since that dreadful ball--the first one, not this most recent horror--everything just went downhill from there. I blame the Prince, of course, not once did he accompany her to pay her respects, or his, and once she was married she stopped visiting entirely.I'm actually surprised you can see me... there must be a lot of magic in the air for such things to occur without natural talent. I mean you no offense, dear, but it's rather plain that your senses do not extend beyond the Veil. That's quite normal, of course, it's a rare gift finding one who can sense the spirits that linger after death. There's quite a bit of gossip in the ghostly circles after what happened to my dear Cinderella. Seems there's a lot of rumor and very little fact, but sooner or later one can discern the seeds of truth
LavenderThere's a beggar who sits at the corner of the street where I pass everyday. She's old and wrinkled, and a little child usually sits on her lap and calls her grandma. It's freezing this winter, but she's always in this long worn out, crimson gown and a thin head cover, sometimes a knitted, old jacket, but the child wears a pink coat that looks kinda warm. Everyday this woman and child sit through hours of people walking by begging for some money to buy some food.The child is barely four.the woman is possibly sixty, yet she has enough reasons to make the little child laugh, every single day.
A story about a storySix words only. A full story.
[DoW] Blizzards and Bears "Oh dear Starclan... Why did the temperature change so suddenly, Lunarnight? It seemed like yesterday greenleaf was still here, and now the blizzard that destroyed Frozenclan is now in Cloudclan!" Meowed Rainstar, talking to her Medicine Cat. Even though she was serious about it, the destruction of a clan isn't something to joke about; she always adds a slight teasing tune to her sentences, even in the worse moments. She has a gift to calm others down. "If only I knew the answer, Rainstar..." he calmly replied, stocking and sorting out herbs for the illness that may arise from the cold leafbare. "Do you think you'll have enough herbs?" she asked, looking at each one of her medicine cat's movements. How can he remember all of these herbs, I could never do that... she silently wondered. "Yes. Even though I can't have my den full of these, it'll be enough for all leafbare." he said, in his usual voice tone. W
Six Words: AlarmAlarm cat: works... needs snooze button.