(1312-06-09) Naughty Kitten
Summary: Le Chat Roux causes havoc and then cries about being confined.
RL Date: 2020-06-09
Related: None.
augustin soleil 

Rouen Suite — Trevalion Residence

This is a nice room.

When looking out of the windows, you see: It is a spring evening. The weather is warm and drizzling.


When a servant stopped by with a tray of dinner earlier, Le Chat Roux saw this as his opportunity to explore the rest of the residence and went bolting through the door in an enthusiastic ginger streak. Shenanigans ensued. He failed to come when called. He climbed atop antique furniture. He went slipping under furniture. The servants couldn't catch him, and he refused to be lured with dried fish. Or fresh fish. He was just bad.

Now his mistress returns to the Rouen Suite with the naughty kitten tucked under her arm, pressed against her simple pale gold dress, the bells on her anklets chiming as she walks barefoot through the house. Dinner is likely a bit cold at this point, sadly.

Augustin looks up as Soleil returns with the naughty cat. He had been grabbing more fish from the kitchen before coming back to check, and apparently just arrived ahead of her. He gives a wry smile to the cat. "Where was he?" He asks curiously as he walks up to the two of them. "And how much damage did he cause? It certainly gave everyone in the house a burst of energy trying to find him."

"A few pulled threads here or there. Hopefully no one will notice," Soleil replies with a bit of a sigh as she goes to shove the cat into his carrying basket and locks him into it. He peeps through his little window, sad that he cannot fit his face through, and he mews piteously to let his people know that he is being oppressed. "One of the serving girls cornered him under a table. It was a grand game until she flushed him right into my grasp." She shows off her arm, which has the look of someone who wrangled with a bad kitty.

Augustin laughs and shakes his head. "If they do, we'll replace them. The nice thing about the family being wealthy, is we can just bill it to the Duc and he'll probably pay it," Augustin says wryly, while the cat sings the song of his people. Augustin looks at the arm, and shakes his head. "Do you need me to send for a physician? At the very least I can wrap it for you," he comments as he goes to some of his gear to pull out a bandage.

"It's just cat scratches," Soleil points out as he opts to try to bandage her. "I think it'll be fine with a little bit of ointment. His claws are kept trimmed " another piteous mew comes from the basket to let Augustin know how harsh this woman is to poor pitiful kitties " and he's raked me before. I think I'll be fine. But thank you."

"Yes, yes, she is truly the worst of all owners you could have had," Augustin commiserates wryly with the cat. "Living in a little Court salon, and now being transported to an elegant home owned by one of the richest families int he Kingdom," he smirks. He stops rustling up bandages because of her comment, trusting her to know her own body, and pulls out a bottle of ointment that he offers to her. "Here, I use this for scratches and cuts."

"I put him in the basket! It is the worst! Some of the serving girls had a good laugh at his expense, even," Soleil points out as she takes the bottle of ointment and applies it to her arms. "How could we ever do this to the Cat? How could we?"

"It is true, we are monsters. Surely our justice will be swift and inspire fear for other such reprobates in years to come," Augustin agrees. "An example must be made, after all, of those who would commit such horrible offenses." He watches her applying the ointment. "Well, dinner is cold, but would you like to attempt it? Or would you like to go out and see if we can find a late supper at the Harbour?"

"We could go have supper at the Harbour, but I shall have to put on shoes, and I probably ought to do something about my hair," Soleil replies, touching her blonde locks in a vaguely concerned sort of way, for they are certainly not perfect. She hands him back the bottle of ointment. "Thank you very much, my lord." The basket continues to cry about its injustice.

Augustin chuckles at that. "Well, then I could also trouble the servants to make us a /second/ dinner, perhaps this one a little less specifically cooked and more specifically scrounged. Closer to our picnic of the other evening?" He asks. "I think you look suitable for the Harbour as is, but I will concede the point." He takes the ointment, and instead leans down to kiss her.

Soleil kisses him back fondly, careful not to smear ointment on him as they kiss. "We could go to the Harbour. I suppose I am presentable," she decides with a slightly dramatic little sigh. "I shall bow to your judgment on this one."

"Well…" Augustin offers dryly. "The other option is that we stay in, say that we don't need dinner, and instead feast upon one another. If you don't want to worry about your hair," he says with a grin. "That's always an option."

"Ah, so you mean that I should let you muss up my hair more than you did previously?" Soleil wonders as she grins at him. "This is just a ploy so that you can keep me barefoot awhile longer," she says playfully accusingly. "But, hmm, if you're not hungry… although I am not certain how we're going to get that cat to hush."

"Oh, not just barefoot," Augustin allows, "Although that is a consideration. But the benefit of not going out is that we can ignore the clothes entirely, and simply go back to the state of nature we've been enjoying. Of course, going out means we can leave le Chat with some treats and likely not suffer any ill effects."

"So, do you want to be out on the town or in bed with me?" Soleil wonders playfully, standing just a little too close to him. "Do you feel hungry or do you just want to make me squeal? Also, we're going to have to let that crying ginger asshole out so that he'll shut up. Companions! Bad kitty! Hush!"

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