Here kitty kitty

[walkingballpit]

I.

[ Robbie is storming out of his quarters, which look decidedly disheveled. Borderline “a weather wizard got really pissed in here”, although not yet at the “did a bomb go off?” level. He figuratively grabs anyone he sees, with a half-hearted attempt at literally. There’s an air of repressed freneticism. ]

Hey.

[ He sounds like Ross Gellar. No one hears that greeting and expects to hear good news afterwards. Robbie straightens up a bit and tries to brighten up to match. ]

Sooo... I have this cat, right? You’ve seen him. Orange. Stripey. Cat-sized. He goes by the name of Niels, because I was even more annoying at 15 than I am now.

[ He pulls the thin blanket haphazardly up on his bunk, because that makes it better. ]

Only right now - I don’t have this cat. I can not find that darn cat. We have to find him before he scratches the wrong person.

II.

[ An hour into the search, Robbie is setting up a cross between a Rube Goldberg machine and a Wil E. Coyote trap for the roadrunner. From the looks of it, the sequence of things that can be bumped, rolled, or manipulated will all eventually lead to a box being lifted, rather than dropped. It will never trap anything, but the goal is actually to seduce Niels with milk and some scraps that Robbie stole from the mess to stay in one place long enough to be found and brought back to safety. ]

Break time’s over, Niels.

[ Robbie carefully adds one more thing, a single boot, and backs away. ]

III. [ Your choice - or let me know you want something different. It doesn’t have to be related to the cat hunt. ]

Comments

i.

[nyanhat]

So...cat-sized.

That still leaves a lot of wiggle room, in my understanding of the world.

[ No trace of offense in Ranulf's tone, just genuine attempt to narrow things down. He holds his hands up to indicate a size, then moves them back and forth. ]

Give me something in the vicinity?