technicallyhellbound | Ghostcat shenanigans

Ghostcat shenanigans

It had been a few weeks since they'd started this arrangement, and so far the Cat had, in fact, been a surprising amount of help. Enough so that Charles had stopped being mostly on-guard while in his presence and had even taken the 'puppy' nickname in stride, though he still hadn't really looked too deeply at why it didn't bother him as much as it probably should.

That particular day was neither a Monday nor a Friday, and was in fact a Wednesday, so while it wasn't one of their scheduled briefings, it was a visit that had been arranged in advance, a few hours while Crystal and Charles were at a concert, the kind of thing that while Edwin enjoyed being invited to, really wasn't the kind of thing he actually enjoyed going to, and the others both knew it, which was why they continued to invite him, even if he always declined.

It was late afternoon, not yet early evening when he stepped out of the mirror into the cannery, tugging at the collar of his slipover in much the same way he did the lapels of his usual jacket. He'd been branching out from his usual look, just a little, in bits and pieces, and now had something of a range of shades of those softer jumpers, this one was a deep bottle-green and was nearly a cowl-neck, but definitely less severe than his usual look.

It had been raining in London, or rather it had been misting heavily, and he wasn't quite sure if it was still raining here or if it had just finished, there wasn't the same kind of moisture in the air, which meant that if it was raining it hadn't been doing so for long, and all he knew was that the Cat had something planned for them to do, he was only now considering that he probably should have asked a few more questions beforehand.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

The fact that the question is quite obviously genuine makes him laugh, some of his earlier warmth coming through in the sound and making it easier for him to lean in close to the touch on his arm, to crowd Edwin's form in closer. "Come on now, Edwin. I know you've got that whole British politeness thing going on, but I didn't take you for modest."

And while the Cat could already touch and feel Edwin easily without the issue of his spectral form getting in the way, it feels so different now that the Cat can't deny himself the faux-innocent little petting of his fingers over the back of Edwin's knuckles where he holds his arm, fingertips delighting in the new sensation of flesh beneath them.

"Being seen taking a stroll across the beach with someone as handsome as you are definitely won't do me any harm as far as social status goes. Who knows, I might even become local supernatural gossip for the first time in a few years. 'Has the Cat King finally managed to see someone more than once, and why the Hell is he bleeding?'" His eyes light up just at the thought of it, stepping into the main body of the cave, but pausing just before stepping outside with him.

"Thinking about it, maybe you should undo the bow tie a little — really give them something to talk about, hm?"

"Absolutely not." The reply was quick, but not sharp at all, it was as amused as the question of potential damage to the Cat's social standing had been genuine.

He was, however, more relaxed even once they got outside, falling easily into step with the Cat, leaning closer in turn, pausing before adding, "Not just yet, at least. We've some time if you'd really like to give the gossips something to go on about once I've left."

It wasn't a case, which meant he wasn't going to flat-out shut down the Cat's flirtations, though it was up in the air whether or not he would return them. Bug given that he'd left an opening like that, there was a good chance he was going to, at least to the best of his ability. Just one of those things he actually needed practice at, but didn't get much of.

He'd been expecting the refusal, so it's met with a little snickering laugh as he settles back into himself, concentrating instead on picking a path for them across the beach rather than on thinking up more ways to push Edwin's buttons (they call that personal growth)... but what he isn't expecting is for Edwin to lean in and add that little bit extra, and it's a good thing the Cat has neither ears nor a tail that can give his reaction away completely, even though his body perks up in interest as much as it can without the extra help of additional limbs, his eyes practically glowing with curiosity as he looks back at his companion. Coming to terms be damned; this is much more fun.

"Oh we do, do we?" He presses, drumming his fingers across the back of Edwin's hand, as if doing so will lure the tail of his suggestion close enough that the Cat can smack a paw on it and drag it out of the mouse hole.

But... slowly, slowly, right? He doesn't want a repeat of being too much too fast coming back to bite him in the ass. "I'm excited to see what you've got in mind..."

"Nothing in particular just yet, have to see what kind of opportunities present themselves." that was probably the first clue that he had at least some kind of idea as to what he was going to do, but he didn't know if the Cat knew him well enough yet to know as much the way that Charles -and even Crystal- did, and even if he didn't yet, he was likely going to figure that out before long, especially if he kept helping with cases here and there, and if the pair of them continued having these outings.

"This has certainly been a learning experience already." For both of them, it seemed, "Which really is the best sort of outing, as far as I'm concerned." Just going for a walk was all well and good, but if one could spot some uncommon birds or other wildlife while doing so that was even better. And this? This had been an order of magnitude above that.

The Cat King's eyes tighten, because he honestly can't believe that Edwin would say anything like what he just had, plopping the possibility so neatly in the Cat's eye-line, without at least a little bit of a plan to follow it through. He's a man of his word in so much that he doesn't make claims he can't stick to, at least in the Cat's experience... but his mind is a sprawling, labyrinthian thing, and the Cat knows he has very little chance of figuring out where his mind is taking him despite how hard he's currently staring at him.

Oh well. Perhaps he can be a willing witness for once. Perhaps he can simply let things unfold rather than forcing them open with his claws bared. For once.

"Tell me about it. I learned that you like black cats over yellow ones; you learned that I used to feed a ley line with the witch who murdered me; I learned I love it when you say spelunking..." He makes a and so on motion with his free hand. "We're learning a bunch about each other. Very cute."

"I believe the color preference has more to do with the fact that I know you better now than I did then, the marmalade seemed terribly pretentious in contrast to," a loose gesture with his free hand to indicate the rest of the Cat, "everything else, and I'm well aware that 'pretentious' isn't a word often used in association with marmalades."

The smile returned, making a quiet sound of agreement, "And as to the rest, I suppose I'll have to find some more unfortunately outdated terms for activities that are much more descriptive and less bland than the new words. Of course that's going to require I find out that the terms I know are outdated, and that may take a while."

They were close enough to being back to town so as to be observed by anyone actually looking their way, which was why he drew the Cat to a halt, eyes narrowing just briefly, "Stamp collecting is still referred to as 'Philately', isn't it?" He didn't actually wait for an answer to that one, using his free hand to tug his bow tie loose, concentrating mostly on not dropping it as he looped it tidily around the Cat's wrist, just above the edge of that tidily-wrapped bandage. It was the work of a moment to tie it, a double-looped bow so as to keep it from having trailing ends, "There, a mark of my favour."

Generally speaking, clothing items discarded by ghosts faded when their host -for lack of a better word- was out of range, but thanks to that little quirk of ley line magic making ghosts solid for a time, any items removed before the so-called host returned to incorporeality would remain. Which was probably something the Cat would learn later, once Edwin had returned home but the tie remained intact.

The Cat is about to make a face and ask how the fuck he should know what stamp collecting is called, when Edwin removes the very accessory the Cat had been needling him to, but instead of slipping it into his pocket or willing it out of existence, he ties it to sit front and center on the Cat's wrist, like some kind of bizarre Edwardian corsage.

"A mark of..." He repeats dumbly, staring down at the fabric as though it were the most intricate puzzle he'd ever seen, completely struck by surprise for a moment before the spell breaks, and he bursts into a peal of barking laughter.

"Oh Edwin- Edwin, Edwin, Edwin..." He manages, breathless with his own mirth, but it isn't mean sounding like his laughter often is. In fact, it actually sounds quite fond, and relieved in a way. After all, if Edwin had done something flirtatious on the level the Cat usually reaches for, he's not sure that he would have been able to recover his composure well enough to get them back to the cannery in any semblance of order. "We really need to have a talk some day about what a little tease you can be without meaning to be. Any less reasonable Cat might have shown you claws. You're lucky I find you so cute. Especially when you say stupid shit like philately."

He's joking, for the most part. He stretches out his arm as if he were a woman in a romcom admiring the massive stone in her new engagement ring. It is pretty touching that Edwin gave him something of his own like this, even if (to his knowledge) it will disappear as soon as Edwin steps through the mirror and returns to London.

"And, for what it's worth, I was pretty pretentious when I was a marmalade. But I died in a state of great emotional transition, and I guess whatever power controls my reincarnation has a weird sense of humour." A casual little shrug, before he drops his arm and reforms it around Edwin's. "Let's both hope black cats aren't as unlucky as their reputation makes them seem, huh?"

He'd been ready to argue the 'without meaning to' portion of that statement, but decided that it would be much more entertaining to see just what he could get away with, just how far he could take things before the Cat caught on that he was fully aware of what he was doing, and why. He also made a mental note to find a collection of words that sounded dirtier than they were, just so he could drop them into casual conversation and see what variety of faces the Cat pulled each time.

For the moment, though, he was amused by the Cat's admiring of the new accessory, smile softening as the Cat returned his arm once more, just patting the back of his hand and nodding at that last statement, "It would seem you're doing quite well for yourself so far, and I can't say that my luck has been any worse since the new form has crossed my path." If anything, his luck had been better than usual, starting with finding that thrice-damned violin.

"We've still a bit of time before this wears off, if there's anyone you'd like to promenade past before then." That was, in fact, Edwin offering to help the Cat make people jealous, though he still wasn't entirely sure how he would be the one doing that, he did know enough not to question it.

"Well, that's a relief..." He says sarcastically, but with enough warmth in his tone that it still can't be considered mean. He'd been pretty cut up about the whole death thing at the time — who wouldn't, right? — but the longer it's been the more merit he's put into the theory that a Cat King's personality can undergo some subtle shifts through death and reincarnation; not being reborn as a new Cat in any more than physicality, but adjusting with the experience of his previous lives, altered by the temperament of whatever Cat he reforms as. He does feel a little more mellow in this form, a little more likely to listen to his emotions rather than pretend they're not there, a little more understanding of the feelings of those around him.

"Let's walk back this way," He says, directing Edwin back onto the boardwalk and turning left in order to take the longer way back around to the main thoroughfare and toward the docklands. This way they can pass the main strip of humble little businesses that include that gigantic trinket shop and the café with the large seating area facing the window; a perfect promenading opportunity.

"Now that you mention it, I suppose I am doing pretty well for myself. I've got my town back, I can already feel the ley-line flooding back in, it's fish market day tomorrow, you're here and all touchable and warm...." An only very slightly amped up dreamy sigh. "I feel spoilt. Maybe it's my birthday."

He knew that he'd been the one to suggest the walk where they could actually be seen, but realizing that's what they were actually doing, he straightened a little, drawing himself up in preparation for being seen, which was going to be a new(-ish) and potentially terrifying prospect, but he wasn't going to let that terror actually catch hold, instead he was just going to enjoy the Cat's presence at his side, humming in consideration at that statement.

Keeping his focus on his companion instead of looking for any and every potential escape route, "I've been led to believe that as a member of the supernatural community," and a cat on top of that, not that he was going to say so, "you're actually allowed to decide for yourself when that is." A shallow little shrug, an impression of the movement really, "Could be today, if you want it to be."

"That's kind of a surprise, hearing you talk like that," the Cat says, unaware of Edwin's discomfort because Edwin kind of always seems a little rigid around him, but definitely picking up on the heightened focus on him. He won't complain, of course, nor look this opportunity in the mouth, but also can't help but wonder what it is about their current situation that's won this kind of attention from the ghost.

"I would have expected you to tell me I'm much too old for birthdays by now, or something rude like that..." He bitches affectionately, though the idea has a reasonable amount of merit. He's never really celebrated a birthday — doesn't remember ever having one, or ever having wanted one — but the idea of doing so is pretty much all of his favourite things wrapped up with a nice little ribbon. Attention, gifts, being the most important person in the room...

"If it's my birthday, I think I should get another present from you, right? That's how it works. This one doesn't count, since it was for a different thing." Pushing his luck? Maybe. But when has he ever shied away from the precipice?

His brow creased a little at the initial response, "Just because my own means little enough to me doesn't mean I don't understand their importance to others." He replied, as if that should have been obvious. Though mostly it was because his birthdays hadn't really been celebrated when he'd been alive, and after his time in Hell, as well as the multiple instances of himself there, it was as much a question of logistics as it was anything else.

The rest, however, had amusement seeping into the tone as he continued, "You aren't wrong, I suppose. Though that doesn't mean you're right." A thoughtful sound, "And I have come to understand that when you ask questions like that it usually means that you've already got something in mind." He flicked his free hand at the Cat in a half-beckoning movement, a clear 'give it here' even without saying so in those words, "Let's hear it, so I can decide if it sounds fair."

Edited (shouldn't type while nodding off - thought of and then forgot a bit) 2025-10-28 06:25 (UTC)

The idea of Edwin's birthday not meaning much to him, strangely, makes the Cat feel a certain kind of way. It isn't sad, exactly, and it isn't sympathetic — because Edwin clearly doesn't seem to mind all that much — but there's a definite pull on at least one of the Cat King's heartstrings that society or experience or both has made something as universally sacred as a birthday something of low regard for him. If he were a friendlier cat, or perhaps if he and Edwin got successfully closer, he might have sought the opportunity to bully him into doing something nice for it, perhaps without revealing the true reason for initiating something nice on that particular day... but then he can't see Edwin falling for that, even if it means little to him.

"Ooh, you really are getting to know me, aren't you?" He purrs, demurely fluttering his lashes though he can't lie and say that it doesn't feel pretty great to have Edwin call his bluff like that. At least this time it's more lighthearted than being called lonely and left to sit with that feeling once Edwin turned to leave.

"Well, I get a kiss in exchange for my assistance when you need it, so I don't think what I want is any mystery here."

And Edwin is enticingly tangible right now..... But, there's the issue of Edwin's tangibility also featuring visibility to contend with, isn't there? And the Cat might be selfish, but he can understand why Edwin might whole-heartedly refuse to kiss him anywhere that people might be able to see. He hums, eyes flicking down the street they're currently wandering down.

"If I find somewhere nice and secluded, do you think that'd be fair?"

There was, of course, the fact that Edwin was reasonably sure that none of these people would actually see him again that sort-of alleviated some of the tension that would usually come with being seen kissing someone, but whether or not it actually would do so was something he'd rather not test.

Which was why the Cat's offer of finding somewhere secluded -along with Charles' occasional regalement of his own stolen moments in blind corners and supply cupboards and how fun that was- tipped things in the Cat's favor and while Edwin did appear to be considering the offer for a moment, his decision really had been made already.

He nodded once, "I think that sounds fair, yes, and certainly sounds more enjoyable than the birthday switches that were traditional in my time."

The instant he sees Edwin nod, he's already guiding him down the thoroughfare a little faster, mental mind-map of his town splayed open in his brain, eyes surveying his surroundings to locate the best alleyway for their plans. Excitement fuelling him, he almost misses Edwin's comment, but the words sink in just as he's turning down the side of a little niche fashion boutique and into the access road that brackets it.

"Switches?" He squints, not sure if he actually wants the answer to his question but certainly asking it anyway, because who would expect anything less: "Like—?" He mimes the act of whipping, or at least hitting something, with his free hand. He shudders. "That's messed up."

His brow creased a little at the pantomime, "It was hardly a whipping, or being beaten with a hammer, I'm not really sure what you were trying to get across just there, and I believe pinches are traditional now." He shook his head, "It was hardly severe." Though given the source, that was probably debatable, "And many traditions are 'messed up'" there were finger quotes there and everything, "when you get right down to it."

He still followed easily at the Cat's side, keeping pace and keeping track of their surroundings as he usually did, "But your idea sounds better regardless."

"I'm all for a bit of roughness, but getting struck or hurt in any kind of way, for your birthday, is particularly fucked up." Weird for a Cat who will wilfully scratch a ghost for a tease to be so fussy about this, but it feels wrong to so easily chalk it up as normal simply because it was commonplace. Or maybe it's the idea of punishing someone for feeling special on the one day of the year when they are entitled, arguably, to feel special that leaves a bad taste in his mouth.

Either way, he shrugs and hurries his pace so that he and Edwin can tuck into the smaller alley going off the access road, the one capped by a dead end and the lower portion of a fire escape but with no doors that appear to be frequented by staff or residents or anything else, and no foot traffic to speak of whatsoever.

"Though, if we're going by the same inspiration..." The Cat says, flirtation sneaking back into his voice as he turns to Edwin and then takes a step closer, bullying himself into his personal bubble with only the wall behind the ghost if he were to step back. He grins. "Then it's a kiss for every year I've been alive, right? You might be here a while~"

He was perfectly content to let the subject drop, as it seemed the Cat was as well. More than that he was surprisingly comfortable being penned in like that where he certainly wouldn't have been before, and wouldn't be with someone else.

At the grin, however, and the statement that went with it, he returned a downright impressively flat look, one hand lifting between them to press two fingers against the Cat's chin, just below his lower lip, not to fully push him away, but certainly enough to keep him from moving closer just yet, "One. You can have one."

His brow hitched higher then, only barely managing to hold onto the flat look, amusement clear in his eyes and in his tone as he added, "So you'd best make it count."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Ghostcat shenanigans

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject