The morning brought me up early. I woke earlier than my alarm clock, and immediately regretted the decision when I tried to get up. My arms, legs, back, and feet were quite sore, and my throat was raw from all of the yelling I had to do to be heard over the music. I turned the alarm onto the off-position and got up, pacing quietly in order to get the stiffness out of my legs.
The warm shower helped make me feel better, and I had to scramble out of the shower to turn off the alarm clock when it did go off. The morning was comfortable otherwise, and I freely admit to squandering it away by playing with Veru and watching television. At about one in the afternoon, I got a call from the local animal shelter and went to go pick up Veru.
With a cat in my arms, I tapped the 'P' button in the elevator and waited while we descended. The thing about the city is living downtown means you learn to walk everywhere. You walk to work, you walk to have keys made, you walk to go downtown, or uptown, you walk, walk, walk. Then when you're tired and you have sore legs, you walk home. It's a basic existence that's easy to follow so long as you follow the basic steps for living. But sometimes there are things you can't walk for. After vacations, I need to pick up several weeks worth of food, drink, and groceries. If I ever need to leave the city to return home, or go out of town, my pedestrian options are pretty limited.
I stepped off the elevator and into the complex's parking garage. It was a little thing, which ends up costing me an extra cost with my lease to park in the "no street parking" city. But I like my parking garage, because it gives me a quiet place to park my baby. The baby in question is a 2005 jade green Jaguar S-Type. Bought for me as birthday present, and hidden from me until my 18[sup]th[/sup] birthday. I don't normally trust it in the city traffic, but a trip to pick up another pet is an excursion worthy of driving.
I plopped Veru in the passenger seat, turned on the car, and pulled into the city traffic. Veru, naturally very relaxed in cars, seemed to take more interest in the passing buildings and alleys than the hum of the engine or whisper of tires on concrete. I whistled a jaunty tune, merging into the neighboring lane and avoiding a slow-moving van. I frowned as I pulled into a parking lot in the suburbs. The animal shelter was a quiet place, nestled between trees, grass, and white picket fences. I certainly felt a bit of nostalgia from a more suburban childhood, but wasn't sure I could give up the convenience of the city for it.
Inside, I greeted my friend in the building and set Veru down to explore at his leisure. Within a few moments, he was in a friendly pile of kittens, wrestling joyfully and playing around in a way inexplicable to me and seemingly giddy to cats. I could tell he had picked a favorite, and watched as they played just a little bit more than the rest of the group. Still, I sat and watched for a bit longer. Friendship was pretty natural, and I could tell that was the one he'd like to have around the most. The fur was short ? thankfully ? and the young cat seemed far too happy to be among another new friend. I ruffled its fur, and turned to our helper. "What's this one's name?"
"Her name is Liason, and she's already been immuni-"
"Um... Where do I sign the papers?"
"Oh, please follow me."
I left Veru to play while I wrestled with a small hill of paperwork. The nonspecific bureaumancy took about an hour after it was all said and done, but I managed to get the ownership records and whatnot pinned down. I bought extra food while I was out, got the cats settled into the car, and wondered if I could get any more errands done while I had the car out.
The engine roared gamely, and I made good time back to the apartment complex, almost sad to put the car away. I locked the doors, vowing to do something else with it before too long, and brought the cats and food back up to the apartment. "So, Veru, what should we name her?"
Veru was already in a pile of fur with her, rolling on the floor and bopping playfully at her fur. He mrowled, and she meowed back in reply. I looked at them both, "Liason it is, though I might just be lazy and call you Kitten."
Caime, who was in the kitchen at the time, looked over at us, "Kitten huh? Works for me, easier than remembering another name."
"Psh, that's nothing, you should've heard my cat's name back home."
At around six in the evening, I decided to give up my day of sitting around at the apartment, and sought to go do something a little less... Sitting there doing nothing-y. I went back out into the city, and started walking.
As I roved about, it occurred to me how much I'd been walking aimlessly, and tried to track down the specific reason. It had been a bit of a mess, given the job problems, relationship wrecks, crashes, and messes. I wondered if all of that had anything to do with it, and considered trying to track down the exact reason. I couldn't though, because Neese still wasn't answering my calls. Damn...
I found myself in a very familiar neighborhood, in a very familiar complex, relaxing in a very familiar garden. I reached back into my memory and tried to recall which apartment LaCoil lived in. I hit the second floor button on the elevator, and waiting while still trying to recall which exact apartment she lived in.
I paced back and forth down the hall, trying to remember exactly which room out of two it could've been. I eventually decided to go for broke and try one at random. Luckily, I ended up with the right apartment. Unluckily, she answered the door in an unbelted duck robe, with a familiar blond on her couch, thoroughly undressed. "Hey LaCoil, I'm so- Whoa..."
"Oh, hey Nuke."
"Sorry, I hadn't realized you have... Uh... Guests? Hey Mari, pleasure to... Uh... See you again?" I blushed, and turned quickly, "Gottagobye."
I turned and started jogging away, spilling the stairs open and running off before my jealous caught up with me. "Nuke, wait!"
I hit the street, full sprint, and figured that LaCoil would chase me down. Either way, I could top out at a good pace and didn't think she'd be able to keep up with me, especially not since she'd have to get dressed. Maybe if I was lucky, Mari would've convinced her to 'come back to bed,' or whatever.
When I heard the dull rumble of a motorcycle, I knew I had misjudged her. I turned back to look, seeing a cloud of black silk lashing into the late-evening, duck robe whipping in the wind and the duckies flapping. I turned into an alley, and tried to get away that way. Unlike my Jaguar, though, motorcycles could make alleys quite easily. I took a runner's sprint, leaping up a wall, onto a dumpster, and across the alley toward a nearby fire escape latter. My feet crashed into the brick, but I managed to hold my grip, and got up the ladder. From the second story, she frowned at me from below. I shook my head at her, and threw myself over the rail. I flew a few feet, over a barbed-wire fence, and slammed into the concrete. I got up from my roll, and continued my jog away from LaCoil.
Either way, I knew this was temporary. One doesn't simply get away from the Mods. Either way, my head was a mess, without Puppet, Neesa, or LaCoil around to talk to, I knew I'd be shot. I opened the door to my apartment, thought about my car, and said, "Veru, Kitten, tomorrow, we're going on vacation."
I went to bed that night planning.
