onthewillowsthere | open post -- a little white kitten

After way, way too much research and overthinking, the kind of research and overthinking that had Janet feeling uncomfortably like Quentin and Alice's ill-gotten love child, she's been ready for a while. So, yes, maybe she wanted the dramatic gesture of giving this to Galahad as a wedding gift. Can you blame her? Nothing says “I hope you're really happy in all your marital bliss with that guy who always seems like he's trying to sell me a protection plan” like the promise of turning someone into a cat.

Whatever. It's also kind of anticlimactic at this point. Janet has a bowl of white paste and a whole lot of gumption, but as far as supplies go, that's it. She eyes Galahad. “You ready?”

“Yes,” Galahad says, in his usual too-serious way. He's excited, but that only means his affect is flatter and blanker than usual. He told Mothwing that he would come to her for a lesson this afternoon, but not what shape he'd be in.

“Okay. You're going to have cat-brain, and herding cats is famously impossible, so where do you want to do this?” Maybe Janet should have made the mansion generate a cat carrier. But it seems rude to show up to a meeting with a human person with one of those, and not her preferred brand of rude.

“In the garden. I want to go to Mothwing afterwards.”

“Sure thing.” She lets Galahad lead the way. She has a bowl of weird white gunk to manage.

Once they’re in the garden, surrounded by the riotous summer flowers, Galahad stops. “Will my clothes transform with me?”

“Nope.” Janet raises her eyebrows at him. “You'll be naked when I turn you back. I won't let your tiny cat body suffocate or anything, if you're worried about that.”

“When you have transformed me, will you please put my watch around my neck?”

That is… so cute. He's so cute. Every time Janet has mentally compared Galahad to an adorable talking woodland creature feels completely justified. “Yep,” she says, instead of oh my God, you're adorable. “Any other last requests before you can't talk anymore?”

“No. Thank you.”

Okay, sure. Janet scoops some of the chalky shit onto her fingers and invades Galahad's personal space. She swipes it onto his forehead, under his shock of marshmallow-fluff hair, then onto his bare shoulders. She steps back, looks him over like he's a used Chevy Malibu and she's about to try and talk him up to a family of four, then says a single harsh syllable out loud.

It's not a pretty transformation. Galahad kind of… crunches forward, folding up like a piece of paper crumpling in someone's hands. Cats are a lot smaller than humans. Fur is sprouting, his collarbones are melting away, a tail is crackling out from the other end of him. It's really, really not cute. But it does work, and Janet feels like the world's coolest magician when there's a little white cat with blue eyes staring at her from under his sundress.

It feels like falling down a cliffside – a whirling, disorienting feeling, but not the freefall in air of being thrown from a horse. When the world around Galahad comes to a halt, he looks up, and up, and up, to see Janet’s distant, blurry face.

He takes a careful step forward on his paws, getting used to his new center of gravity. His whiskers feel as though they’re constantly brushing against things, picking up every vibration in the air, and the world’s colors have changed into shades of yellow and blue. His ears twitch and swivel towards sounds.

He takes a practice run, and finds his stiff, awkward body has become graceful, fluid, as he bounds in a circle around the garden. He can’t tell how, but he knows his tail is important, as much a part of his balance as his four paws.

Finally he comes back and sits on his hindquarters in front of Janet. He knows he’s not supposed to be able to talk, but he tries anyway, and meows, “Thank you.”

“Holy shit!” Janet stares down at him. That doesn't make any sense. She remembers being a goose. All she could do was honk. She honked for days on end. It was actually really fucking tedious. “Whoa. I'm good.” She told him she would, so she kneels in the grass and swipes his watch from the pile of his clothes. “Here, kitty.”

Galahad pads over to her on his soft, silent paws and puts out his head for the watch-collar.

Feeling a sudden sense of portentous responsibility, Janet buckles it around his neck. She's careful not to make it too tight or too loose. He's so, so cute. “Okay.” She gives him a little scritch under the chin, like Regina likes. “Do whatever you want, but I'm gonna keep an eye on you.”

“I understand. Thank you, Queen Janet,” he meows again. Then a butterfly passes in the corner of his eye, and he springs after it, unable to stop himself.

Current Mood: excited

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

summerdude

"Luring a fish here with the power of my mind so you can bite it to death?"

From:

onthewillowsthere

"Yes!! It's-- It's evolution!"

From:

summerdude

"Survival of the fittest against the weird half-powers I got from my grandpappy the god of fishing?" Magnus can't help it anymore; he's definitely grinning outright now.

From:

onthewillowsthere

"Yes!!!" Galahad meows, a little frustrated but mostly just eager.

From:

summerdude

"What if I tell you where the fish are and we go from there?"

From:

onthewillowsthere

"I guess!!"

From:

summerdude

"There's something over there." Magnus points. "You're gonna have to get your paws wet, though; it's about, um, chest-deep for you maybe."

From:

onthewillowsthere

"I don't mind getting wet," Galahad meows blithely.

From:

summerdude

Magnus will believe that when he sees it! "Go get 'em, tiger," he says, grinning.

From:

onthewillowsthere

So Galahad dashes down the sand to the water's edge, where he quickly becomes distracted digging for sand crabs.

It takes exactly one wave to bowl him over. Soaking wet, he lets out a piteous howl and dashes back towards Magnus.

From:

summerdude

Magnus cackles, but he scoops Galahad's wet little body up in his arms and holds him close. "Nice water," he teases.

From:

onthewillowsthere

"I hate it!!!" he wails.

From:

summerdude

"I thought you didn't mind it?" Magnus is stroking the top of Galahad's head over and over.

From:

onthewillowsthere

"I changed my mind!!" He shivers and starts trying to lick the water out of his coat. It tastes bad.

From:

summerdude

"I'm sorry I keep teasing you," Magnus adds, after watching Galahad's clearly-disliked attempts to groom himself for a moment. "It's just that you're so cute and funny like this." He pauses, then quickly adds, "Equally cute and funny to being a human, but differently cute and funny."

From:

onthewillowsthere

"Can you make me dry??"

From:

summerdude

"I can try," says Magnus. He can't really do weather stuff besides calling up summer, but maybe...

He closes his eyes and summons a little extra heat in the hopes that it helps Galahad dry faster.

From:

onthewillowsthere

At least it feels better. Galahad huddles and licks himself disconsolately.

From:

summerdude

Magnus strokes Galahad some more. "Okay, buddy," he decides, since Galahad makes such a tragic picture. "I'll use my powers for evil."

From:

onthewillowsthere

"Thank you!!"

From:

summerdude

"I'm the Pied Piper of dying fish," Magnus sighs, melodramatically, and tries to use his telepathy to find something that's of a size that Galahad can easily catch it.

From:

onthewillowsthere

Galahad keeps cleaning himself up, even though he's about to get wet again.

From:

summerdude

"Wait," says Magnus, as something occurs to him. "What are you going to do with the fish when you catch it, easy-mode video game-style? Do you even like fish now?"