Who: Ben and Fitz What: Hello Kitty When: February and March Where: Around the island Rating: Mid - some language, impure thoughts Status: Complete
Three months ago
Ben was still trying to get used to life on the island, after thirty five years of freedom, of exploring the world he now had to settle with this small parcel of land stuck out in the Pacific. No more volcanoes to study, no more rivers of lava or violent explosions and plumes of ash shooting into the sky. He had to settle with just exploring the land itself, finding little places where he could study to find out the geological history to keep himself sane and his toe in the water so to speak.
With the weather not too bad Ben left his small house, walking down the streets with his headphones on and a gentle music mix to get himself in the right mindframe, he was trying to get in his zone and if there were people looking at him he didn’t notice and didn’t care. He had his rolled yoga mat poking out the top of his backpack and was dressed for yoga in a snug fitting tank top and long compression pants. Humming along with the music he left the concrete walkway and took a path that went off to a little park, a slightly secluded place where he could meditate and do his routine without disturbance. Flipping the bag off his shoulder Ben got the mat and rolled it out onto the flat grass. His shoes, hat and sunglasses came off and placed with the bag before he took his place on the mat and started to stretch.
The short haired Manx cat was making its rounds. It had a makeshift collar on identifying it as ‘Mew’. A few of his regular forms had been named. Fitz, had been making his rounds, tracking patrols and gathering intel on new residents. He knew the island like the back of his hand. All the shortcuts to get around and the cat only paths, like through small spaces. He knew all the hiding places and all the best perches.
That day had him cutting through the small park, on his way to walk the perimeter of The Facility- one of the few buildings he’d never been in- when he caught the sight of someone. Curious, he padded through the grass and under a bush. He stayed low to the ground when he saw the fit new stranger. He thought back to see if he’d ever gotten a name, the face he’d seen around before in passing. Maybe he’d caught him working out before. Stared a little longer than he should have.
The small cat purred happily as he watched the man stretch. It was break time. He could take a break to watch the show. The man was quite hot. God Kyrie would be laughing at him so hard for just thirstily watching a cute boy do yoga.
With his headphones still on and his little mp3 player attached to his bicep Ben was ignorant to the little feline visitor that was watching him. He had discovered that yoga and meditation helped drown out that idle chatter of animals that was now the norm for him. He had gone through years of failed medication and psychological help that really didn’t do anything either before he realized that those voices he was hearing weren’t just in his head, it was some weird mutation and they linked it to his time at the Cascade Volcano Observatory.
With his body warming up Ben exhaled, closed his eyes and put his hands down on the mat as he started with the Downward-Facing Dog Pose, which he held for a minute or so before he moved into Child’s Pose, again holding for the same amount of time and then Cat Pose which was like its name suggested, back stretching like a cat. He had a series of poses and the order in mind and would slowly work his way through his routine over the next hour or so, in absolutely no rush at all to finish and have to go back to reality.
Fitz found himself laying down, flopping to his side as he watched. He was a voyeur by trade- or had become one. But he was typically respectful. Just, when a show like what he had before him… could he be blamed for wanting to watch?
His mind wandered, wondering what it would be like to be part of a particular sensuous pose. All he could do was watch. Watch and enjoy, capture a nice memory to recall later when he was alone. Okay, okay! He was not some perverted monster. He just hadn’t been around anyone except for Kyrie and people he could count on one hand in six years. And all of them had been business- or Kyrie.
Ben continued to do his routine, moving from one pose to the next with fluid movements and flexibility that had come from years of almost religious yoga practise, he tried to do it daily but that didn’t always happen and if he got at least three workouts a week done in addition to body weight exercises and cardio he was a happy man.
He was zoned out with the music playing in his ears, well until his mp3 player decided to stop working, it was then he heard the voice of an animal that was really quite close, he didn’t pick up the words that were actually said but it got his attention and he took his headphones off, looking around for the source when he saw the cat flopped on its side contently watching him. He smiled over at it Oh, bonjour there petit chat. Even now after all the years spent in the US his mind still went straight to French instead of English.
The cat’s ears perked up and it’s nose wrinkled slightly. Shit, a telepath. The cat scrambled to its feet and meowed, purring loudly. The hot guy had to be a telepath. Shit, shit, shit. Meow, Meow. He’d never encountered a telepath that actively projected to a cat. A telepath has been how he’d been found out in the first place. If only he had better mental guards.
He tried to be nonchalant, as he slowly backed into the bush, doing his impression of a skittish kitty. “Meow.”
Ben’s smile turned into a grin as his mind tuned into the thoughts of the cat, a cat that swore - that was a new one. There was something about this feline that was unlike anything he had ever experienced before, most cats that he had met and communicated with had simple patterns and things they were thinking about, mainly the usual essentials of life - food and attention. But this one was different, it was acutely aware that he had telepathic abilities and called them such, regular cats were just intrigued that a human could talk with them.
”You do realize that I can hear you. He chuckled, sitting down on his mat as the cat started to back away from him and towards the bush, and I’m not that hot.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck. Fitz shook his head and turned, retracing his steps and doubling back around the park to the Facility. Great, a telepath that can talk to animals. Just what he needed. Harder to hid among other minds. He’d have to figure out a way to hide his thoughts.
Two Months ago
The gray and white cat dubbed ‘Mr. Tumbles’ was sitting outside the diner waiting for the pretty dark haired waitress to come out with lunch. She often gave him scraps so he didn’t have to go hunting mice. As a cat eating a mouse was fine, but his stomach never felt good later.
As he sat there, willingly getting pets from passerby’s as he perched on the bench he saw a familiar hottie. God damnit. He’d been trying to practice this. “Meow.” I’m hungry. I want food. God damn, I really am hungry. He looked down to his stomach and licked at it as it gurgled. Oh fuck.
While Ben usually preferred to do his own cooking but he was out and about and that wasn’t an option. He had just done some shopping for clothes, he was literally admitted with the clothes that were in his small suitcase that he had arrived from Hawaii with months beforehand and those were starting to wear. Carrying a little paper bag with a few pairs of jeans and a couple of t-shirts he walked through The Marketplace towards one of the diners that were scattered around what could only be described as a mall.
As he got near one he saw a little grey and white cat sitting on a bench, as he got closer he heard it saying that it was hungry and wanted food. Reaching over to give it a pet he smiled at the feline and was about to ask what it wanted to eat when he heard it swear. Ben had not forgotten the Manx that he had met the month before, the one that was different from the others and swore as well. Focusing on it he got the same vibe from this different looking one. If you want me to believe you’re really a cat, cut out the cussing.
Humans could be easily fooled by cute mewls, playing with toys, head bumps for pets. But this guy, just had to hear him. And like- him, him. He’d have to practice more.
I’m a cat. Look at me. Yea, he wasn’t even fooling himself. A woman walked past him, pausing to scratch his head. He took the opening to hop down and follow her down the road, rubbing against her legs for more attention until she picked him up and carried her far enough away.