Chapter Text
Nobody else seemed to be paying any attention to the little gold-and-white cat.
I took another bite of my pita wrap as I watched it.
Something was wrong with it. Not physically: it seemed to be in pretty good health, despite the layer of dirt on its fur. Nor was the problem its attitude, per se: even meandering through a semi-crowded park full of humans, it was not hissing or attacking.
It was hard to figure out what exactly the issue was. The cat was just wrong .
It was trotting between people. Not to be pet, or to beg food off them (though it did seem to accept some of the scraps lobbed its way), but just to stare at them for a little bit, then leave.
The cat would sit perfectly still, head tilted, staring someone down for about ninety seconds. Then it would stand back up, beeline to the next human, and repeat. It was bizarre.
There was nothing physically strange about the cat. Ginger fur so light it was better described as blonde, a white belly and paws, dirt through its pelt but no matting or mange. It had a sleek silver collar that was at odds with the buildup of filth on the thing’s fur.
It was a point against the cat being a projection; I associated Masters' projections with more unnatural looks, like Crusader's ghosts. It could be a real cat human-controlled by a Master. Or it could be a tinker creation, sent to scout, similar to how I used my newest bots — though given that it clearly wasn't trying to act like a normal cat, I didn't see any point in such an elaborately realistic catlike exterior if it were just Tinkertech.
The cat was scanning the park, looking for the next human to creepily stare at. I took another bite of my pita, waiting to see where it went.
It looked around, then its green eyes locked on me , and the little thing started trotting my way.
I was a little uncomfortable with the messed-up cat staring me down, but it hadn't done anything to anyone yet, so I could suck it up for a minute and a half.
True to form, the cat parked itself right in front of the bench I was sitting on and stared me down. Even though it was just a cat, I felt too self-conscious to continue eating while its gaze was laser-focused on my face, so I just ended up sitting there stiffly and staring back.
Finally, after what may have been ninety seconds or two years, the cat seemed satisfied.
But instead of walking away to stare at the next person, the little thing instead moved towards me and... raised one paw to rest it on my leg.
I had never had any pets growing up, and didn't really know the protocol for interacting with them. But this little creature had freaking knives in its feet and I sure wasn't going to try to piss it off while it could use my leg as a scratching post.
If it was possible, I went even more still, nearly holding my breath as I waited for it to get bored and leave.
It jumped into my lap.
It was sitting at the edge of my thighs, tail draped lazily over my knees and swishing back and forth along my calves. It was still staring up at my face when it lifted a paw to pat at my ribs a few times.
By this point I was holding my breath, willing myself to be completely still. The cat made a disgruntled little "mrr" noise, leaning forward to butt its head gently into my chest, before leaning back and pawing at me some more.
The breath-holding was, unfortunately, very limited. For some reason my lungs seemed angry at me for my genius plan. I exhaled in one big breath, and the cat's ears twitched as it made some weird chirping noise at me.
Well, this problem didn't look like it was going to solve itself soon. Rest in peace, my quiet day at the park.
"Hello," I said to the cat, feeling a bit silly. It made more of those chirping noises at me. "Any chance you could... get off my legs?"
Its ears drooped a bit, but to my shock it actually did jump off my lap. Back on the ground, it turned to sit and look at me again.
"Uh. Is there a human Master somewhere controlling you?" I asked. Then I realized I was dumb; if there was, I was talking to the human, not the cat. "Are you a human, I mean?" The cat shook its head, then nodded. That was absolutely bizarre to see. But I also had no idea what it meant. "No but also yes?"
The cat let out a huff, seeming frustrated. You and me both, buddy. Interesting as it was to watch from afar, now that this situation had jumped into my lap, I was done.
"Alright, good luck with that," I said to the cat as I started to walk away from the bench. As I passed a trash can, I threw away the plastic wrapper for my pita wrap, stuffing both hands in my sweatshirt pocket as I prepared for the long walk home. As I reached the edge of the park, I spared one look back to the bench I had been sitting on.
Nothing there. I looked down slightly, and the cat was right behind me. I've never been tempted to describe an animal's facial expression as 'smug', but I think I can be forgiven for anthropomorphizing this cat, just this once.
"I'm not going to give you any food," I said. The cat just continued staring at me. "Even if you follow me all the way home, you'll get hungry and leave." The cat sniffed. I felt like it wasn't taking me seriously enough.
I didn't like that it seemed to be sapient; I had stuff in my house I didn't want anyone to see, like the few bits of Tinkertech I had started to cobble together in my basement. If it were reporting to a human Master, letting this cat follow me home would immediately out my power before I'd really even gotten the chance to use it.
I sighed, resigning myself to a much longer walk than expected. The cat sped up a bit to trot right next to me as I pointed toward the boardwalk. I knew nothing about animal psychology, but my best guess was that cats universally disliked noisy areas full of complete strangers, so hopefully this would convince my hanger-on to buzz off.
"Mrow," it said elegantly. "Mrrp."
I nodded. "So true," I replied, looking down at its little face as we walked. "Any more words of wisdom to share?"
The cat looked up at me. "Mrrrrr," it said, tail lashing a bit.
We walked to the boardwalk, the cat trotting to keep up as I made my way towards the most crowded touristy area. True to form, there were plenty of people out and about this Sunday afternoon. I usually avoided crowds on instinct. They made me nervous; I didn't have a good way to keep track of this many people at once, and it would be too easy for someone to sneak up on me with the masses as a cover.
I hated it, but my plan hinged on the cat hating it more. I sucked up my discomfort, squared my shoulders, and dove into the busiest part of the walkway, dodging and weaving between fast-moving pedestrians.
I was hoping it would lose me as I wove through the crowd. But I looked down, and like a little traitor to its entire species, the cat was following me doggedly.
Even after a couple of minutes of busy foot traffic, it was right by my side. Somehow, its face had gotten even more smug by the time I finally stepped off into a quiet side street.
"Don't look at me like that," I said to the cat.
"Mrr," it replied, continuing to look at me exactly like that. I didn't appreciate its attitude.
Okay, so crowds were a no-go. What were my other options? Most stores didn't allow animals and would hopefully chase the cat away without me needing to do anything. I didn't want anyone to hurt it, I just wanted it to stop following me.
I ducked into a random cafe. Although I opened the door as little as I could and pulled it closed as soon as I entered, the cat somehow slithered inside in between my legs. It followed me all the way up to the counter, where a cute boy was idly doodling on a napkin.
When he saw me, he straightened up. "Hi, what can I get you?" he asked, before he looked down and saw the cat standing a bit away from the counter. "Cute cat," he said.
"Having animals in places where food and drink are made is a violation of the city health code," I said. "The cat isn't allowed to be here."
He raised his eyebrows a bit, examining the cat, then looking back at me. "Going to chase it out to keep your job as the health and safety officer then?"
I blushed, a bit embarrassed. "Wouldn't that be... your job? Sorry."
He gave me a lopsided smile. "For minimum wage, they absolutely do not pay me enough to start messing with random stray cats. Viva la revolution, let feline-kind be free, et cetera et cetera. So, can I get you anything?"
I looked at the menu for the first time since entering. "I'll have a plain black tea, please." It would use up pretty much all the money I had in my pocket, which was not ideal, but it would have been too awkward to say 'no thanks' at that point.
It didn't take long to get my to-go cup of tea. Sensing the failure of another genius plan, I decided to cut my losses and exit the cafe again. This time, I held the door open a bit longer to make it easier for the cat to leave with me; I didn't want to accidentally trap it indoors against its will.
"Any other ideas for how to convince you to leave me alone?" I asked it.
"Mrrroow," it said.
"Figures," I replied.
The cat looked at me smugly, tail perked up. As I was watching it, though, it looked ahead and its body language changed: its ears pinned back, its tail started lashing, and its spine arched. The cat let out a sharp hiss and I startled, instinctively taking a few steps away.
"Well look who it is!" a girl said from in front of us, and I turned to look at who the cat had been hissing at.
Emma. Beside her, holding an abundance of shopping bags, Sophia.
Emma was giving me one of her trademarked cruel grins, the 'I think you're pathetic and it's amusing me' one. With how often I had to see them, I could write the whole guidebook on her range of facial expressions she wore when taunting someone.
"Looks like the stray picked up a stray," Emma said.
Sophia snorted. "They even going to let you keep the cat in the homeless shelters, Hebert?" she added, egging Emma on.
"You'll need to ask them soon. After all, I saw your dad buying some rope just yesterday!" Emma finished, grin growing.
I completely froze. If I turned to leave, Sophia would forcibly stop me. If I tried to say something back, Emma would dial up the insults, and both Sophia and Madison would make sure I regretted it later at school. If I physically fought, Emma's dad would have me drawn and quartered.
Like always, there wasn't much for me to do besides take it and hope they get bored. I squared my shoulders as Emma opened her mouth again, letting a mask of impassivity slip over my expression.
Then, suddenly, a hissing whirlwind of claws went flying into Emma's legs.
Emma screeched and tried to jump back, but the cat had its claws sunk into her legs and went with her. "Fuck, get it off me!" she yelled to Sophia as red blood welled from her scratches, ruining her baby pink pants. I was completely frozen, not sure how to react. Should I take this chance to run?
Sophia dropped most of Emma's shopping onto the street, nearly growling as she tried to grab the cat off Emma. " Fuck ," she shouted when she got scratches to her hand for her troubles.
"Call off your fucking cat, Hebert!" Sophia yelled at me.
What was she, an idiot? It's not like it was a trained guard dog. "It's not my cat," I said, "it's just some stray."
"I don't care, " Sophia said. "Call it off or it's your ass on the line."
But at that moment, she finally got a hand between the cat's rib cage and Emma, and managed to pull back enough to fling the cat back to the sidewalk. It was still spitting with rage even as it landed, but it didn't lunge for another attack.
"Soph, these are probably going to get infected ," Emma said, tears forming in her eyes.
"It's okay Emma, I know a clinic near here. You're not going to let a stupid cat bring you down."
I watched them leave without even glancing back at me. Technically I had stood there and done approximately nothing for the last couple minutes, but somehow I still won . Well, the cat won for me, but Emma lost .
I looked down at the cat. It was still crouched awkwardly with its ears and tail pinned back, panting for breath.
"Thank you," I said to it, and it looked up at me again, ears raising a bit. "I guess you're not... so bad."
"Mew," it replied. It sounded a lot more tired than usual. I felt a bit bad that it had used up all its energy chasing me around all day, before burning itself out scratching up my bullies.
Like an idiot, I said, "Do you need a quiet place to recover for a while?" There were a dozen reasons why it was stupid to bring this cat home, the biggest of which were my Tinkertech experiments that were poorly-hidden in my basement. They were covered enough for Dad to not notice, but I was worried the nosy cat would discover them instantly.
Unfortunately, the cat nodded, looking up at me with wide kitten eyes. Dammit.
"You're only allowed in the family room, no being nosy," I said. "And I'm not feeding you, or you'd never leave. This is only for a few hours so you can rest a bit."
"Mrrp," the cat said, and I decided to interpret it as agreement, generously ignoring the smugness that was somehow creeping back into its expression.
It still looked winded. Sophia bodily throwing it a bit couldn't have been good for the thing, even if it did successfully land on its feet. "Are you okay to walk a couple miles home?" I asked. "I spent all my bus fare on this mediocre tea."
"Mawww," the cat whined pitifully, looking up at me with wide green eyes.
"I really don't have another way for us to get back," I said.
The cat mewled softly, standing so it could step a bit closer to me, balance on its hind legs, and rest both forepaws on my legs.
"I'm not carrying you," I said. "For one thing, you're kind of dirty. For another, you very clearly have sharp claws, and I'm not letting you close to my face. And most importantly, you're not my cat. "
The cat just kept its paws on my legs, gazing up at me softly with wide kitten eyes. That was patently unfair.
"No," I said. The cat let out another soft "mew", keeping its eyes fixed on mine. I let out a huge sigh. Welcome to the life of Taylor Hebert, where I was such a pushover that I lost an argument with a random stray cat.
"Fine," I finally said. "But if you hiss or try to scratch me I'm dropping you immediately."
"Mew!" the cat agreed, dropping back to all fours with its ears perked as it looked up at me.
"I've never picked up an animal before, so please don't scratch me. Just meow loudly if I'm doing something wrong and I'll set you down, okay?" I waited for the cat to nod before I tried to pick it up. At first, I had both hands under it, on its chest and belly. Its belly felt too soft to be picked up by, though, and when it let out a loud meow, I set it back down to try again.
After a moment of thought, I kept one hand under its ribcage as I started to lift, but tipped the cat back so I could get the other under its bum. When there was no loud meow of protest, I lifted it all the way and curled my arm under it, supporting the cat while my other hand held it upright for balance.
Despite my intention of hating it, having a warm furry body pressed close to my chest was actually rather nice, especially in the chilly spring air. I could feel its warmth through my sweatshirt.
I held it close to me and started the long walk home.
I had expected the cat to be annoying given how much it followed me earlier, but once we got home I was pleasantly surprised. The cat quickly curled up on the couch. I made a quick trip upstairs to grab my backpack, then took a seat next to it and worked on homework while it napped.
It was... calm. Peaceful.
I was not used to enjoying just sitting downstairs in the quiet. Usually when I sat alone, Dad out of the house, an aching loneliness would start to set in. But when Dad was home, it was all awkward silences as he tried to find something to say, or — worse — a despondent silence as we both realized there was nothing to say. Dad and I loved each other, but we didn't know each other well enough anymore to actually like each other. Sometimes I wondered if it'd be less painful if I just lived alone.
But today, it was different. Even though the cat couldn't talk, it had quickly scooched so that on every inhale, its back brushed against my leg. There was something calming about having someone relax next to me, even if that someone was a dirty stray cat that was possibly made of Tinkertech.
Despite being harassed by Emma then going home to work in total silence on an English essay, somehow this ended up being one of the nicest days I could remember in a long, long time. Maybe it was a little pathetic that my standards were so low.
Eventually, though, my rumbling stomach broke my focus. The cat perked its head up, apparently done with its nap as well.
I stood, wandering into the kitchen and trying to remember if we had anything particularly edible. The cat followed. When I looked down, it was making a little too much eye contact with me, and I felt uncomfortable with where this was heading.
It jumped up to sit on the kitchen counter, giving me pitiful kitten eyes and letting its ears droop pathetically. I wasn't really an animal person, but I wasn't heartless either, and those eyes should count as a weapon of mass destruction given the emotional damage I took looking at them.
"I really shouldn't feed you," I said.
The cat made no sound, but somehow, impossibly, its kitten eyes got even wider. That was cheating. But I suppose it had helped me out with Emma and Sophia earlier, plus it had been a comforting presence for the past couple hours, so maybe this wasn't the worst decision I could be making.
"Okay, okay," I said, sighing. "You win. I guess I'll feed you." Immediately, its ears perked up, the tip of its tail twitching a bit.
I went over to our fridge, opening it. There was... an onion, half a bag of baby carrots, a full carton of milk, and a near-empty container of orange juice. Not terribly inspiring. I went to the pantry instead; we had a lot more in the way of nonperishables, but I was struggling to see anything even vaguely edible for the cat. After a full three minutes of digging through random bags, boxes, and cans, I finally found something.
"A-ha!" I cried triumphantly, pulling out a can of Spam. Turning it over showed that it was only a few months past its best-by date, and everyone knows those are just capitalist plots to make you throw away perfectly edible food and buy more.
Might as well make something for myself while I was digging. I grabbed a few pantry items plus the milk from the fridge and started whipping up a quick batch of pancakes. Was it traditionally breakfast food? Yes. Was that going to stop me from enjoying my evening pancakes? Never.
Fifteen minutes later, I had pancakes drenched in syrup on a plate for me, and a blob of Spam in a bowl for the cat.
I put both at the table, and sat down to eat. The cat came over to the bowl, sniffed it, and made the most disgusted face I've ever seen. I honestly thought the cat would start retching for a moment, but it recovered in time and pushed the bowl away with one paw, shooting me a glare.
"What?" I asked. "You asked for food, and that's the only thing we have that you might be able to eat."
The cat looked longingly at the fridge. "Dad and I aren't good at grocery shopping on a specific schedule. The fridge is always hit-or-miss, and unfortunately today was a miss for both of us on that front."
"Rrr," the cat said, turning instead to look longingly at my plate. It reached out one paw, claws just barely poking out of its toes, clearly going for the pancakes. I grabbed my plate and stood, lifting it out of the cat's reach. "Not for you!" I said. Partially, I didn't want to share my pancakes, but mostly I'd feel bad if this cat ate my sugary goodness then up and died or something. I really didn't have the money (or car) to get a poisoned cat to a vet quickly if it couldn't handle eating pancakes.
"Mroooow!" The cat flopped dramatically on its back, both paws reaching for my pancakes. "I really don't think you can eat these," I said. The cat just gave a wordless wail of frustration.
"It's not my fault you're an obligate carnivore," I said. It stared at me blankly. "You should really blame evolution for that one. Your tiny intestinal track is too weak to handle an omnivorous diet."
The cat flopped limply into the table, eyes closed.
I stood, still holding the plate above my head, for a full minute. The cat didn't even twitch. Eventually, I set my plate back down, finishing eating my pancakes before going to the kitchen to wash my dishes. When I came out, the cat was still boneless on the table, not having touched its bowl.
"You're not going to eat any of the Spam?" I asked it. "Mrr," it replied weakly, barely twitching as I came over to look at it.
"I can let you back outside. I'm sure there are plenty of rats in the neighborhood for you to kill."
The cat didn't even respond this time, just laying flat. I sighed. I knew I was going to deeply regret offering, both because I had so little money and because they say that once you feed an animal it would never go away. "The shops should still be open for another hour or two, if you want to go pick up something."
Immediately, it perked up, ears at attention and gaze meeting mine. "Mrow?" it asked, reaching out one paw to gently pat at my hand.
"I want to make it clear that I will only buy you a little bit of food for the immediate future . You're not staying here long-term. Do you understand?"
"Mrp!" the cat replied, back to a smug expression. I had the bad feeling that it understood perfectly well, and disagreed. This was definitely a mistake. But I wasn't a liar, so I grabbed my keys and wallet again, putting them in my pockets. The cat leapt off our table and ran to my feet as I unlocked the door, beating me back outside.
The closest pet store was just a bit too far to comfortably walk, so the cat fell into step beside me all the way at the bus stop. There were two guys already there waiting. One was busy on his phone, but the other one looked at us weirdly as I came walking up with the dirty cat right beside me.
"That your cat?" he asked, one eyebrow raised as I took a seat on the bench and the cat jumped up to sit a polite distance from me. "No," I said. "Just some random stray."
"Rrp," the cat said, giving me the side-eye. As the mature human in the conversation, I stuck my tongue out at it.
"Right," bus stop guy said, still staring at us weirdly. Luckily, before I had to tolerate any more conversation, our bus pulled up. The men entered first, then I climbed in, paying my fee. The bus driver looked down at the cat as it hopped up the bus's steps behind me, but luckily didn't ask it to pay a fare as well. I didn't think it had any money, and with the bus fares and food cost I'd already be paying, I already wouldn't have much left of the fifteen dollars I'd started with.
I took a seat near the middle of the bus, and the cat sat beside me. It was doing more of its creepy staring thing at the other passengers. Its eyes locked on a random elderly lady for longer than the others, then it let out an amused huff that turned into a purr for half a second before the cat cut it off. It turned to face me, mouth open a little bit in what might be mistaken for a smile.
It patted my arm quickly a few times as though trying to get my attention, despite already having it. Then it waved the other paw vaguely towards the old woman. I looked at her. She seemed like a regular lady, just reading her book on the bus. I turned back to the cat. It huffed, looking a bit upset. "Mrow. Mrooooow," it said. "Uh huh," I replied, having no idea what it was trying to say.
Frustrated, the cat hissed quietly, and I was startled enough to immediately jump to my feet. I did not want any teeth or claws buried in my delicate skin today, thank you very much.
But that left me awkwardly standing in the middle of the bus after having a pseudo-argument with a cat, and I could feel a lot of eyes on me. My face warmed as I made my way a bit deeper into the bus, slumping into a seat away from the cat so I could pull my hoodie drawstrings and try to fade into the background a bit more.
I was left in peace for a few minutes, until there was a quiet little "mrrp" from the walkway. I looked over, and a big set of green eyes looked back, the cat's ears and tail flopped downward. The kitten eye thing was really unfair . I would prefer if this stupid cat would stop cheating... but that didn't mean it wasn't working.
As though sensing the moment I internally gave up, the cat's ears perked and tail lifted, and it jumped up onto the seat next to me again.
"Please don't hiss at me," I told it. It looked back at me evenly, which I decided to take as agreement.
It wasn't much longer until we had reached our stop, and the cat followed me off the bus. Only a couple blocks over was a Pet Superstore.
But when it saw the sign, the cat crouched down a little, ears pinned as it spat angrily. It didn't hiss, but based on everything else about its body language, I would guess it really wanted to.
"What's wrong?" I asked. I was confused; I promised to buy the cat some food, it's excited, but the moment we actually get to the store it's upset?
It pointed one paw at the sign above the store. "You don't like this store?" It more insistently pointed to the same sign, but made a show of moving its paw slightly to the left. "Pet Superstore, Pet... you don't like that we're going to a pet shop?"
It nodded, ears still pinned back. "But you wanted me to buy you food," I said. It nodded again. "You want me to buy you food... not at a pet store? You want human food?" It perked up a bit as it nodded this time, but I was frowning. "I don't really have the money for quality human food, and also I don't feel like accidentally screwing you up because I know nothing about cat nutrition."
It looked at me pitifully, but not even the eyes were enough to move me in the face of plain logic. "Much as I appreciated your help earlier, I'm not going out of my way to find a store that's still open this time of evening that will sell me something you can eat at a price I can afford, all while I have zero idea what's safe for you. Can you handle going into a pet store for cat food just this once?"
It gazed up at me for a few long moments, but seeing that I wasn't going to cave, it gave me a tiny nod. I guess it could tell that my backup plan if it disagreed was just to either take it to a shelter or let it go solo again.
"Thank you," I said, and walked into the store, the cat following just behind me.
The inside was loud and a little too bright. Other people had dogs and cats on leashes with them, some of which were making meaningless noises, and the pet store itself had a background chatter of squeaking and chirping from some of the animals for sale.
There were large helpful signs that led me straight to the cat section, the cat following me giving quick assessing glances at every creature in our surroundings.
There were a lot of choices of cat food, some of which cost truly eye-watering amounts. I started browsing through the cheaper section for something that looked decently edible by my human standards — given the cat's understanding of English and its temptation to try pancakes, I was willing to guess it had a more human palate than other felines.
"Excuse me, miss?" I turned, and there was a clerk in the store uniform looking between me and the cat, fiddling nervously with her hands as she addressed me. She looked younger than me, and given that I was only fifteen, I was a little suspicious that this store was breaking child labor laws. The cat gave an amused "mrr," which I decided to interpret as agreement.
"Yes?" I asked, a little annoyed.
"You, uh... it's company policy. Er, no pets allowed in the store unless they're on a leash or carried."
I looked down at the cat, who looked back up at me. "It's not my pet," I said. "This is just some random cat that's been following me all day." The cat chirped in agreement.
The clerk looked at the cat, then to where I had been sorting through their stock of cat food. "Sorry, miss," she said, nervous but determined. "Please leash your stray, or I'm going to have to... get my manager?"
I looked down at the cat. "Rrrp," I said, which I took to mean both that it agreed that this was bullshit and that the cat didn't want to be leashed. "No leash?" I asked it, checking, and the cat shook its head. Hm. The clerk had said that animals needed to be leashed or carried. "Can I pick you up then, just while we're here?" I asked the cat.
It tilted its head, considering, before offering me a nod. It awkwardly raised on its hind legs, stretching both forepaws towards me, and I crouched to scoop it up against me. I was able to settle it comfortably on one side of my chest; I had an arm wrapped under its bum to support it, and it leaned on my chest and curled so that its chin and forepaws rested on my shoulder. Its whiskers against my cheek were ticklish, and when its ear twitched it brushed against mine.
Despite myself, I enjoyed the contact again. The little creature was warm and soft, and even with the layer of dirt in its fur, it was still very pretty. And — though it made me feel a bit pathetic to admit it to myself — my life was pretty much bereft of all positive physical contact, and having a cat curled up against me warmed a part of me that I hadn't realized was hurting.
"There," I said, turning to the store clerk. She had gone shockingly pale, wide eyes on the cat. I raised my eyebrows.
"Did your cat just... nod at you?" she asked, voice small.
"She does that," I said, so used to it at this point that I had kind of forgotten it would look weird from the outside.
The clerk nodded, shaky. "Okay, okay, cool. Good luck with her. Yup. Bye." Then she sped-walked out of the aisle, turned, and was out of sight.
"Huh," I said. "Wait, are you actually female?" I asked the cat, who gave a little "mrow!" and nodded her head against my shoulder. I guess I should have asked sooner, given that the cat was clearly able to understand English, but it hadn't felt particularly relevant. "Huh," I said again, before turning back to the food.
I ended up settling on some interesting-sounding food that claimed to be imported from Italy — though given the cost per can, I wasn't putting good odds on authenticity. It was cheap enough that I was also able to snag a bottle of pet shampoo. I thought cats usually cleaned themselves, but this one clearly didn't, given the dirt accumulated on her fur.
I went to the checkout, wincing a bit at having to spend some of my meager pocket money on this random cat. Once I had my purchases in a plastic bag, I left the store and put the cat down on the ground again.
"Do you want me to open a can for you right now?" I asked.
"Rrp," she said, irate.
"You are literally a stray cat. I don't think eating on the sidewalk is beneath your dignity," I said. The cat just sniffed haughtily at me, and I rolled my eyes. She was acting like she grew up in a mansion, rather than on the streets.
I asked, "You'll eat the cat food if I give it to you indoors though, right? If not, I'm going back in immediately to return it."
The cat nodded with a "mrow" and I sighed, leading the way back to the bus stop.
Apparently cat food tasted better than expected, because all her initial hesitance when I cracked open the can faded away once she actually gave the contents a taste. The cat ate quickly then lapped up half the bowl of water I had placed on the table next to her before finally looking up at me again, licking her lips.
"Before you leave, do you want me to try to give you a bath?" I asked, showing her the bottle of pet shampoo. When she pawed at the cap I removed it, letting her sniff the contents. She nodded.
"Okay," I said, "I've never washed an animal before—" she interrupted me with an indignant meow "—so you have to promise in advance not to claw or bite me, okay?" She nodded again, looking a bit more cautious than last time.
"Can I remove your collar before we start, so I can wash all your fur?" Her ears and tail perked up immediately, and she eagerly walked over to the end of the table, tilting her head to give me a good look at her collar.
It was... strange. It was a reflective chrome under the layer of dust. While wiping off the grime, I realized it was actual cool metal, not some weird fabric. Getting a finger under the collar and giving a gentle tug assured me it was at least somewhat flexible, but it clearly was not a standard metal. Who was wasting a flexible alloy on a cat collar?
When I bent it in a few different places, I realized that some areas were significantly stiffer than others. Immediately, I realized there were some sort of components hidden in the smooth metal. How was that possible? I examined the exterior closely, but saw no fault lines where the metal had been joined.
My Tinker ability was already whirling with ideas, both for finding out what the collar was and for reproducing it in my own work. The carapaces of my bots were segmented steel exoskeletons, but with something this flexible, I could start designing something with a significantly improved range of motion...
My fingers traced around the collar to the d-ring on the front where a leash would clip in. Attached to it was a small metal tag; weirdly enough, it was in the shape of an eye. Didn't pet owners usually go for a bone or circle outline?
On the tag was a phone number. I flipped it; the other side was blank. Huh? I flipped it back to the front, but there was really nothing else there.
"Do you not have a name?" I asked. "I thought people usually put pets' names on these things."
She gave an indignant "mow!" and batted at me with one hand.
"Right, sorry, I forgot you don't like the pet thing," I said, thinking of her reaction to the pet store. "You don't have a name, though?"
She looked at me for a very long second, making eye contact. Then she very slowly and deliberately shook her head.
"Huh. Mind if I give you one? I'm just now realizing that mentally referring to you as just 'the cat' might be a little rude."
She tilted her head for a moment, considering, then nodded. I took a moment to think. Given the hatred of the 'pet' thing, I was guessing she'd take umbrage to any undignified cutesy name. I didn't want to name her after anyone I knew in real life, because there wasn't really anyone I had positive associations with nowadays. I decided to just start naming the protagonists of books I'd read recently.
"Molly?" She shook her head. "Theresa?" An angry meow.
"Lisa?" that one got her to pause, considering, before she finally accepted with a small nod.
"Okay Lisa, nice to meet you," I said. "Did you want me to call the number on your tag for you?"
"Rrrrow!" Lisa yowled angrily, ears pinned back as she glared at me.
"Any particular reason why not?"
She stared at me blankly. "Right," I said, "that might be a little hard for you to communicate without any words."
I traced my fingers gently around her collar one more time. "I don't think I can get this off without hurting you, at least not with better tools than I currently have," I said. Her ears drooped. She definitely wanted it off, then. I wondered if it was related to her hatred of the 'pet' concept. There was obviously no love lost for whoever put it on her, if she was so against me calling them.
"Ready to go get a bath?" I asked. She perked back up a bit and nodded.
I grabbed a cup from the kitchen, then led her up to my bathroom, grabbing a clean towel from under my sink. Even if I had no experience, I had vague memories of my mom washing my hair, gently massaging the soap in before pouring warm water over me to help clear the suds off. Surely this was the same concept. I didn't think it would be too difficult.
It was, in fact, extremely difficult. I think if I wanted to briefly sum up that entire experience, the best descriptor would be 'actual nightmare'. The yowling started only fifteen seconds in when I accidentally got soap in her eye. Her then vigorously shaking her soapy fur got soap in my eye, which only made my coordination worse. It started poorly, but somehow only went downhill from there. Trying to give Lisa a bath was fifteen minutes of hell.
Soggy, exhausted, my eyes still burning, I did my best to wipe the entire experience from my mind as I finally wrapped a grumpy Lisa in a fluffy towel. "Mroww," she complained at me, even as she finally relaxed into the fabric while I gently dried her.
"Let's agree never to talk about that again," I said. "Mrrp," she agreed with a serious nod, equally traumatized.
On the bright side, when I finally got her mostly dry and unwrapped the towel, she was fully clean. Her white belly and paws were bright again, and the rest of her fur shone like gold. She was a very pretty cat; I was suddenly a little sad that it would probably be rude to pet her.
On one hand, I had only promised this cat a few hours of rest, and given the bath and the meal I had delivered far more than I agreed to. On the other, I wasn't sure I had it in me to kick her out into the chilly night when it had already gotten pretty late. She didn't know my neighborhood, and I didn't want to strand her without a warm place to rest overnight. I could always bring her back to the park tomorrow.
"Mow!" she said happily, tail twitching in excitement as she gave me a smug look. That was weird timing; it almost felt like she read my mind.
"You want to stay here for the night?" I asked, and Lisa nodded.
I looked at a clock. It was a little earlier than I usually went to bed, but after today, I was kind of exhausted. "I'm going to sleep right now, if you want to come to my room with me," I said. She nodded.
One one hand, closing her in my room meant that she wouldn't find my Tinkertech in the basement. On the other, I wasn't sure if she could read, but my old diary and bullying journal were in my room. "No snooping, okay?" I asked, and she gave an exaggerated "mraaaw" as she flopped over.
"I mean it," I said. "No snooping." She huffed a bit, but finally nodded, following me into my room.
"I'm going to change into pajamas real quick," I said. "Don't look."
Once I was in fluffy pajamas, I went back to the bathroom to brush my teeth, then finally I was ready for bed. Tomorrow was a school day, and I wasn't looking forward to how the trio would react after the stray cat that had been hanging out with me harassed them today.
A problem for future-me.
I laid a pillow down on the floor next to my bed. "That's your bed," I said. "Goodnight."
I climbed into my own bed, laying on my back and pulling up my blankets. There were some faint patting sounds on the floor-pillow, then an annoyed little "mrr". A few seconds later, Lisa leapt up onto my bed, and walked over to me.
"This is my bed." I said.
She walked over the blankets to stand on my ribcage. She patted me a few times with one paw, as though testing my softness, then curled up on my chest.
"Should I even be surprised?" I asked, mostly rhetorically. "Mrrp," Lisa replied, and for someone with inhuman vocal cords it was amazing how clearly the slightly-sarcastic 'not even slightly' came through.
I sighed, mostly for the dramatic effect. It was actually very comfortable to have the warm pressure on me, like the world's smallest weighted blanket. It didn't take me long to fall asleep.
It must not have woken me when Dad got home last night. I had no memories of waking, or even of dreaming; it was like I teleported straight from falling asleep to being startled by my morning alarm.
I had gotten used to the harsh sound, but either Lisa wasn't familiar with alarms or her hearing was much more sensitive than mine: I felt the weight lift off my chest as she jumped a foot into the air when the alarm went off. When she landed, she curled up, trying to press down her ears with her little paws.
I turned the alarm off, grabbing my glasses from my nightstand. I stood from the bed, pulling the blankets back up.
"Sorry about that," I said quietly to her.
"Mawwww," she whined pitifully, still pawing at her ears even after the sound had stopped.
"I'm going out for a run," I said. "Do you want me to let you out now, or when I leave for school?"
Before I had even finished talking, Lisa crawled under the blankets into the warm spot I had just vacated. That was probably answer enough. I closed my bedroom door behind me as I left, to prevent Lisa from either snooping or bothering Dad.
Getting dressed for my morning jog and heading out was routine at this point. The crisp spring air felt nice against my sweaty skin as I ran. I took my regular route, making it all the way to the Boardwalk before I turned to run home.
I got back just as Dad was getting out of the shower. Perfect timing: I took my own warm shower and made my way back to my bedroom wrapped in fluffy towels.
There wasn't a lot of variation in my closet. Pretty much everything I owned was some dark color of either a tee, an old hoodie, or worn jeans. On the bright side, that made the process of choosing an outfit and getting dressed a lot easier.
Once I was in my daily 'uniform', I looked at myself in the mirror for a moment, but then quickly looked away. It didn't actually matter what I looked like; the trio would make fun of me no matter what, and even if I could afford nice clothes, they'd quickly ruin them.
"Mrow," Lisa said from behind me, startling me. I had honestly kind of forgotten that she was there.
"Hi," I said. "Since the pack of cat food came with multiple cans, do you want breakfast before heading out?"
"Mrow," she repeated. Lisa hopped off my bed and went to the door, looking at me expectantly. I opened it, leading the way downstairs.
Dad was cooking pancakes in the kitchen when I entered, Lisa following close behind. "Morning, Taylor. Is there a reason there's cat food on the counter?" he asked while watching his pancakes cook, before turning around and catching sight of us. He lifted his glasses, tiredly rubbing at one eye for a moment before putting them back on. "In retrospect, this was the obvious answer to my first question. Second question: why is there a cat in our house?"
"Morning Dad," I said. "She's a stray that followed me home, but I'm going to put her back outside when I leave for school."
"She doesn't look like a stray," Dad said. "I mean, I guess she looks a little skinny, but that's definitely a collar around her neck. I don't think strays usually come pre-equipped with those."
"I put it on her," I said. It was a lie, and a stupid one. For one, if Dad actually looked at the tag with a random phone number on it, it'd be obvious it wasn't mine. For another, who in the world picks up a stray, puts a collar on it, and then sets it back out into the streets?
My only defense was that I knew Lisa didn't want the number on her tag called, and when put on the spot, that was the only thing I could say that would stop dad from 'returning' her to whoever it was Lisa hated. I very rarely lied to dad, and I didn't like the heavy feeling that settled in my gut.
Dad looked incredulous. Understandable. "Uh... huh," he said. "Does the random stray you collared have a name?"
"Lisa," I replied.
He squinted at me. "Isn't that a human name?" he asked.
I shrugged. "I think it fits her decently well. She likes it, too." Lisa gave an agreeing "mow!" from behind me to back me up.
Dad looked at Lisa, then looked back at me. "You've never shown any interest in animals so I can't say I expected this, but it seems like she might be... good for you, kiddo. I haven't seen you this engaged about anything in a while."
"Your pancakes are burning," I told Dad, trying not to blush at all. "Shit," he said, then "don't repeat that," as he turned to try to save them.
Had I really been that bad, that talking about a cat for two minutes was an achievement? I guess there wasn't much else these days that I was really willing to tell Dad about.
Eventually, he managed to get two burnt circles of pancake onto a plate and passed it to me. "None for you?" I asked.
He shook his head. "Laura's bringing donuts in today and I need as much stomach space as possible for those."
That seemed unlikely. My guess was that there weren't enough ingredients for the both of us; we had been running a bit low when I made them yesterday, and there wasn't much else around here to cook. I made a mental note to grab some groceries this evening, in case Dad didn't have time after work.
"You sure you don't want one?" I asked.
"I'm alright," he said, putting his keys in his pocket. "I might be home late from work today. Have a good day at school."
"Have a good day at work," I replied as he left.
Then it was just me and Lisa. I cracked open another can of possibly-Italian cat food, setting it on the table with a bowl of water before bringing my own pancakes over.
"Any plans for the day?" I asked Lisa as she hopped up to eat. "Mow," she replied. Fair enough.
The pancakes were good, despite being burnt. Lisa seemed pleased with her own breakfast, eating it as quickly as she had gone through her dinner yesterday.
When we were both done, I checked the clock: thirty minutes until I'd need to leave to catch the bus. Too long to do nothing, too short to really get anything productive done. "Want to watch a bit of TV before we leave?" I asked Lisa, who gave a nod of agreement.
Our TV was at an angle in the corner of the room, which made it actually kind of uncomfortable to watch from the sofa. I ended up curled on my side to get the easiest view, and Lisa curled up next to me. I settled on watching the news. The start was a boring weather report, but fifteen minutes in, they played a look at Brockton Bay's local multimillionaires.
I had mostly planned to tune it out, but Lisa stood, ears pointed towards the TV and tail straight back as she went completely rigid, watching raptly. I was interested enough in her reaction to focus back in.
"...local multimillionaires. Though they started out well-off, it wasn't until the past few years that the Livsey family made the savvy business investments that would secure their status as some of the wealthiest people in the state. Both of the Livseys have voluntarily gone through rigorous power testing as requested by WEDGD and been definitively proven non-parahumans, making their fortune fairly gained. However, in response to some of the excellent work done by actual parahumans, the Livseys have recently donated a generous sum to the local Protectorate. Let me play a clip of Armsmaster at his gala appreciation speech..."
Lisa had started out completely still, but was nearly vibrating with tension by the end of the Livsey segment.
"Are you... okay?" I asked her. She snapped to face me, eyes wide, still trembling a bit, before she shook her head.
I looked back at the TV, where it was showing a picture of Mr. and Mrs. Livsey. Then I looked back to Lisa, my eyes catching on her collar's tag. "Are they the ones you're trying to get away from?" She nodded. "Did they... hurt you?" She sat, lifting one front paw to touch the collar on her neck, before nodding again.
I frowned. "The collar... the collar hurts you? It's Tinkertech, so I'm guessing you don't just mean metaphorically."
She nodded again, looking more excited as I put it together. "Mrow!" she said, scratching at her collar before looking at me insistently. She clawed at the collar a bit more, then reached out one paw to touch my hand, before reaching back to claw at her collar again.
"You want me to take it off you?" I asked, frowning. "Messing with Tinkertech is generally a bad idea." The only people who should even consider it were other Tinkers. I was a Tinker, albeit a pretty new one, but there's no way she should know that.
"Rrr," she said, reaching out her paw again to pat my arm more insistently.
She had looked at a lot of people in the park before choosing me to follow. Did she have some way of sensing Tinkers? Was that the real reason she followed me all day? That would make a lot of things — her insistence, her willingness to scratch up my bullies at risk to herself — make a lot more sense, if there was something specific she needed to use me for.
"Mrr," she said, voice a little softer. She stopped patting me, gently resting her paw on my hand and leaning forward to lightly butt her head into my side, leaving it there for a moment.
I probably could help her. If the Livseys were the ones to put the collar on her, they might be other Tinkertech or notes about it that I could use to figure out more about how it worked. I didn't want to mess with anything and hurt Lisa, but if I knew more I might be able to safely undo it.
I didn't have a lot of bots yet — I was very part-limited to only the scraps of tech I could scavenge without making anyone suspicious — but I had a handful of small bots that would make good scouts if I did want to search the Livseys' mansion. They were too tiny to be of much use in combat yet, but they recorded a lot of sensory data as I remotely piloted them, plus most were designed to easily blend in as household bugs.
On the other hand, I had school and plenty of homework. Tinkering already ate up most of my free time; did I really want to commit to this as well? I had no obligation to Lisa, but if I decided to help her, getting unknown Tinkertech off her would probably be pretty urgent.
I frowned, thinking. My bus came soon. I had to make a choice.
I could go to school... or I could go spy on rich people to help a stray cat.
Put like that, the choice was obvious.