Night's Omen

Well, Persephone certainly took off after it, and this time, she -did- drop four, and when her hands made contact with the ground, they were soft, but quite large, paws of black fur. She slid into the wall, reaching out to stop the ball before it went anywhere else, and quickly jammed it into her mouth and began gnawing on it.

She rolled onto her back, feet kicking in the air as she chewed on her new toy, not even really coherent that the other cat had gone. She'd won, and that was all. She rolled over to her stomach suddenly and pressed her body flat to the ground, looking up at the witch and the man, eyes dialating fiercly. Was she about to attack?

She wiggled, and then sat up abruptly, and began gnawing at some invisible thing on her tail, depositing the ball on the floor. She had completely forgotten whatever it was she was about to do, and thus, stood up, and walked at a leisurely pace towards them. She sat down in front of Mars, and looked at her expectantly. She wanted another ball.

Darren was pretty damn sure he was safely 'awake' again, what with exactly how much water he'd been hit with.  He'd gotten most of the pitcher, probably something Dave did intentionally, and Mars' presence had him hoping he wasn't about to get himself into a load of trouble for wrestling Persephone for that ball.  

Or at least, he was hoping that until Mars threw the ball again, having not noticed her grabbing the collar of his shirt, and he tried to go after it once more before he even had a chance to think about it.  Of course, her grip on his shirt hadn't changed, and it was suddenly very tight on his throat.  It kept him from humiliating himself again, though.  For that, he was grateful, and he leaned back against her hand to look up at her from his sopping wet position on the floor.

"Er, sorry about that," he apologized a bit sheepishly, wincing.  This was why catnip was bad.  Of course, it also felt very good, and Persephone seemed to still be enjoying it.  He didn't like her popping into her cat form and dropping down like she might pounce, though.  With Mars present, his ideas of 'playing' had changed out of protectiveness for her.  He wasn't about to deal with a shifter pouncing at her in his presence, and the growl that issued from his throat should have been enough warning in cat language to keep Persephone from playing too hard with Mars.

Dave was just watching, though he'd returned to the bar to deal with the customers that were actually present at that time of day.  They all seemed rather interested in the exchange, and since it wasn't getting too out of hand, the werewolf didn't interrupt further just yet.  

The speed with which Darren instinctively lunged for the ball took the witch by surprise, and she actually had to dig her weight into her heels to maintain her grip on his collar. In retrospect, it was a wonder that Darren didn't pull her forward with his momentum, given that he easily topped her by sixty pounds.

The female's shift confirmed what the witch suspected, and with a casual look around, Mars identified no readily-available throw toys lying around - and why would she? It was a bar, after all. With a slightly wary glance tossed at the black jaguar, she hesitated. Had she sensed malice in the female's movements, Mars would've made her move to exit, but for the meantime, it wasn't quite malice as it was curiosity. This creature was definitely intensely absorbed in her surroundings, almost as if she had rarely been out before.

A wave of pity for the feline before her (not the male one, who was about to be in a lot of trouble as soon as they got home) pulled Mars's lips into a sympathetic 'tsk', as she tried to figure out what to do with the expectant female. Dante, her abyssinian, wasn't nearly this demanding, preferring to stay his aloof and independent self. And get into the occasional scuffle with Darren. Glancing to Darren, she raised an eyebrow.

"What... where did you find her?"

By now, he figured Mars could let go of his shirt without him bolting or anything, but he didn't say a word about it.  He couldn't guarantee it, and if it made Mars happy, he could handle it.  Given that 'big trouble' he was going to be in, he didn't need to do anything else stupid anyway.

"Um, actually, I ran into her on my way out the door.  Almost knocked her over while she was sniffing her cat weed ball," he explained, feeling just a little stupid.  "Ending up back in here was kind of an accident."

Actually, playing with the ball at all had been an accident, but he was hoping Mars knew that much already.  He wasn't the sort to just go and chase after jingly balls full of catnip in public.

"Ahh," she replied calmly, though her mind had been streaming together the connections and deducing her next point of action. Mars was exercising that which made her a perfect Crimson hunter - planning, planning, planning. Execution was just as important as premeditation. But her thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the shrill pain that had just streaked up her arm, probably on account of that stubborn wound, which had still been bandaged. When Darren had (to her chagrin) inspected it a few nights earlier, he had pronounced it under watch, deciding to give it a few days.

After a few days, no change. It must've been some sort of special poison. She'd have to look into it. For now, she masked the wince with a dart of her eyes at the expectant feline, still rooted to the spot on the ground.

<You don't think it's a bit suspicious that she's unable to control her shifting and seems a bit overeager to be out here? Even if she hasn't seen your shift, she must suspect that you're some sort of leopard or large cat shifter,> Mars left out the part about his potentially being in danger in her transmission. He didn't need to hear her paranoia any more, she figured, as she fidgeted with the button on the cuffs of her crisp button-down.

Persephone had figured by now that the exchange was less than pleasant, but since no anger had been directed at her, or ill words had been exchanged as far as she could hear, she just walked the small space between she and Mars, and began rubbing intently on her leg. Persephone wanted attention, and she wanted to be scratched. It was quite strange, the jaguar so openly wanted attention, but hey, she was a cat, and what the cat wants, the cat wants.

She couldn't really sort her thoughts out into human terms at the moment, so she stayed in her natural form, choosing to watch this or that, head moving from Darren, to Dave, and back to Mars as they spoke, as though the large feline was watching a tennis match of the vocal chords.

Oh yes, and damnit, she wanted to be petted.

Any wince of pain comes complete with a sometimes small, but always sharp, intake of breath.  Most humans wouldn't have heard Mars make such a sound, but Darren's head shot up to look at her, then at her arm.  That was the only injury he knew of offhand, so it was the one he assumed was still bothering her.  They were dealing with that very soon.  

Taking a moment to look at her though, he finally took notice of the ripped sleeve.  Usually, that meant trouble had occurred and he had something else to ask her about when they were in the car.  He wouldn't ask with an audience.

The problem with her talking to him with her mind like that was that he couldn't return it, even if he'd have liked to respond.  He couldn't do anything telepathic, so that was just a bit of an issue.  He'd just have to be discreet, which explained his nod as he reached out to scratch Persephone's head.  He'd noticed her behavior, assumed it was because of the catnip, and was realizing that it couldn't be.  She was still acting funny, and it had to have worn off at least some.  He knew for a fact that she was aware of him being a cat, though.  That much had been obvious just from her behavior towards him, and he'd returned it after the catnip incident.  Unfortunately, her leaving out anything about danger to him meant that he completely didn't think of it.

Who would want to do anything to him, anyway?

"Aw," she murmured softly as the great feline rubbed itself on her leg - really, it was like a much bigger, more lethal version of her own cat, Dante, and she reached out a hand and ran smooth, slender fingers through the feline's shorthair fur, enjoying the moment of somewhat strange intimacy, even if it had to be short-lived. She disengaged herself from the feline with some reluctance, but as usual, duty called more sharply than affection did. Sad. She really had taken a shining to the shifter, and this was another rare moment in which she cursed her existence as a hunter. It was impossible to feign ignorance and go on with throwing balls.

"D'you think we should get going soon?" she suggested softly to Darren, who by now had stood beside her. She had noted his brief glance at her sleeve - again, something she'd have to explain later. For the moment, however, she was uneasy about their position. The longer Darren stayed, the greater the risk that this feline would run back to her owner and explain things, and if she mentioned Darren's form at all and piqued anyone's interest, it'd mean another fight with a Midnight Trainer.

That didn't interest Mars at all. With a jangling of her keys, she stepped a few paces back and was prepared to head out.

Persephone began to purr again, enamoured with Mars as she began to rub on her fur. Persephone responded more openly to female humanoids, but moreso because men had been her buyers, sellers, and usually opponents. Only reason she reacted so differently to Darren was as much as she'd have done to ANY feline shifter like herself - like attracts like.

When Mars jingled her keys and the pair eventually headed for the door*, Persephone just got up and followed them. They were going to play more, right?



~~

Grah short post. Sry for powerplay, figured the door would be natrual progrsssion of things.

Once Mars took a turn petting Persephone, Darren stood up.  He was still drenched from Dave's pitcher, but at least he wasn't acting like an idiot anymore.  In fact, he took a moment to look back and Dave and give him a wave somewhat as a way of saying 'thanks'.  The werewolf just grinned and waved back, leaving Darren to deal with the lady and cat with him.

"Yeah, probably," he answered, and then he winced at the memory of leaving his backpack on the sidewalk outside the Hollow.  He just hoped it was still there.  He thought he'd dropped it close enough to the building's outer wall that hopefully someone hadn't nabbed it, but he couldn't be sure.  

"You didn't see my bag on the ground outside when you came in, did you?" he asked Mars as they headed towards the door, though he frowned upon hearing the sound of soft paws padding after them.  They sure as hell couldn't walk out with a jaguar behind them.  People would notice that.  "Er..."  

And that was where he realized he didn't even know her name.  "Could you take your human form before you walk outside?  People might freak out if you don't," he warned her, though he didn't know what they were going to do if the jaguar tried to follow them right to the car.  How does someone react to that?

She sighed - the cat actually sighed. Why, oh why, did the other cat want her to be in her humanoid form? She felt strange, confined, and angry when she was like that. Her clothes felt tight and binding, and so did her skin, for that matter. She always just wanted to smash things, but she couldn't figure out why - just did.

She obliged though, and stood up, tossing back her hair. She didn't smile, but only because it didn't occur to her that despite being deceptively slender, her eyes and overall stature made her somewhat aggressive. Persephone just was what she was, she'd never given it any deep thought past that.

"Better?" she asked, voice accented and distinctly British. No, she'd retained her voice, even from childhood. Didn't help she spent most of her life in Europe; the US was a new thing. She didn't offer her name, though; she didn't feel that she was supposed to. In fact, Persephone had no idea of what she was supposed to do, and so, she stood there, in her humanoid shape, waiting.

Once the female had shifted once more and now towered over her by a few inches, Mars crossed her arms and glanced sidelong at Darren. Evidently, they couldn't go on playing - the ball was nowhere to be seen and there wasn't a spare. The female's expression told her that she was no longer terribly amused; instead, she was restricted and on her guard.

"No time to play, sorry kitty," Mars said very simply, though her tone indicated a true reluctance of sorts. She really would've liked to perhaps make the acquaintance of this stunning creature, but circumstances didn't permit her to, and she didn't press the girl with questions of her whereabouts or origins. It was just better to limit contact altogether, even if she ended up being completely harmless.

Mars doubted it. She didn't seem malicious, necessarily, but as with all pets (which Mars had no doubt she was) there was potential for danger. She wasn't sure if Darren recognized it yet.

Persephone sighed again. For a moment she seemed to be distracted, looking up and at the door, head tilted a little; curious again. This time her expression was different, something menacing beneath the surface. If she'd been in her cat form, her ears would have twitched for a moment, at something beyond them all, outside somewhere, something she'd overheard, or felt, or whatever it was that allowed Persephone to just do whatever it was she did.

"Okay," she said finally. She just.. accepted it. She headed for the door, not really feeling as though there should have been any sort of good-bye's or I'll see you soon's. She didn't really know what a good-bye was, and she certainly didn't expect to see others soon, not in her line of life.

She walked past them, giving the other cat a final look. She didn't feel sad - Persephone didn't know what sad was. She knew her stomach felt twisty for a second, but she couldn't recognize that for what the emotion was (which was, in fact, sad). Pushing open the door, she simply stepped out into the evening warmth of the city. She hadn't been called back to Midnight yet, but she had no further reasons to stay.

It wasn't 'til she'd completely extracted herself from the Hollow that a mugger on the street mistook her for a common girl, and grabbed forcefully at her wrist, intending to pull her back into an alley. Persephone just -stared- at him stupidily and moved nary an inch (it was quite hard to push around the jaguar, even in her humanoid form).

When he spoke harshly and in commanding tones to her, though, and threatened to stick her with a blade, her expression changed. This man was not her Master, nor was he her Mistress. Her lips curled into a snarl, and with her free hand, she snapped out quickly, hitting the man directly in the throat. It was a killing blow given her strength and speed, and she stood there like a moron as he fell uselessly over.

She just stared down at him in disbelief. Were humans really like this? It didn't occur to her that she should have felt fear, or worry, for the fact that she'd just put a man over on the sidewalk. She was just... bewildered.

"You're not Jeshickah," she finally said, staring down at him. She didn't.... know what else to say. "You don't get to touch me."

No, Darren hadn't recognized any of the danger Mars had.  The only danger he saw right then was the potential damage that a jaguar could do, even if Persephone was being quite friendly.  Mars may not have been delicate, but she was not built with claws and teeth for fighting.  He felt instantly better when Persephone was human once again.

"Yes, much better," he told her, visibly relaxing.  He felt better about their ability to protect Mars with Persephone in human form.  And what of his concern for himself?  He had none.  He healed fast enough that he didn't even worry about himself, and he didn't have a stubborn wound lingering around like Mars did.  

He'd smiled at Persephone as she walked by, though it faltered somewhat at the expression she wore.  He couldn't quite tell for sure, but she looked almost...sad?  Because they wouldn't play?  "Bye!" he called after her, then shrugged at Mars as the shifter girl walked out.  He called a goodbye to Dave and they slipped out the door as well.  Darren was scanning for his bag, which was thankfully still sitting where he'd dropped it near the door, but it was impossible to miss the exchange happening in the alley nearby.

He froze, eyes widening some, and then glanced at Mars.  He could smell the blood after Persephone's blow to the man's throat, even if Mars couldn't, and he actually just didn't know what to do about it.  He didn't deal in a line of work that involved dead bodies.  He was sure to put his own body between Mars and that alley, though.

She had said her goodbyes to Dave and gave the girl a sort of helpless look as she walked by, though it was quickly masked by passive detachment. Mars squinted through the bright late afternoon glare as the girl stalked out, shoulders looking a bit less jaunty than her mood had been a few moments earlier. As soon as they had shut the door behind them, however, Mars heard the exchange.

More importantly than the sudden death of the would-be mugger, her acute ears had caught the woman's words right afterwards. She wouldn't be the one dealing with the body now, naturally - she'd leave it up to the NYPD, and they'd probably chalk it up to a homocide. It'd go unsolved, of course.

Mars's mind raced as she caught Darren's eye. He had probably heard her words, but she didn't have to explain any further. It was proof, or near-proof, of her status as a pet. Jeshicka... Mars filed that name away for later, though she could've sworn that it sounded familiar. Probably something guild-related.

Their car had been, thankfully, in the opposite direction as the alley, and she took a few paces backwards, pretending not to have heard anything at all. Mars knew the best course of action was to peel out of there immediately, and though she and Darren drove separate cars, she was no less impatient for him to get to the safety of his Corvette.