Sorry Seems to Be the Hardest Word [Closed]

[iselldrugstothecommunity]

Who| Howard and Sigma Klim
What| Apology cats.
Where| The Suites.
When| Today
Warnings/Notes| Mild cat abuse.

It's always awkward with Sigma. Then again, Howard thinks, in general it's awkward with anyone after you've snapped at them over little nothings, after you've somehow managed to take offense to the fact that they like their own kid more than you, the stranger who stabbed them when you first met.

Howard's holding a designer cat that he stole from a pet shop. Given that he didn't kill anyone last round, he didn't have the credit to buy it, so he had to smuggle it out and replace it with the padding his stylists have been shoving into his outfits to make him look less pathetically starved. Thankfully he's starting to fill out, just a little, the bones looking less sharp against his flesh, the butterfly and fern leaf shapes of his pelvis and sternum turning into a spade and a ripple, respectively.

The cat's in a plastic box he's carrying. Howard looks at the cat's bizarre pattern and rolls his eyes. Figures that the Capitol can't even do a proper housecat right. The cat scrabbles against the side, probably for air, but Howard's reasonably certain it'd take a few more hours for it to suffocate.

He knocks on Sigma's door.

Comments

[futilecycle]

Sigma didn't take offense to Howard's unseemly comment, knowing the boy wouldn't wish ill on him if he'd just bought him a cat. He even had the humor to chuckle at the comment. "Well, he would have a better home than a ruined Arena, for certain." The Doctor hadn't bothered to check what became of Rita, but knew it couldn't have ended well.

Sigma offered his hand to allow the cat to smell him, and slowly the animal drew closer. Unlike his last "pet", this cat wasn't wild, and soon its growling ceased. As his new partner stepped into the light, Sigma's eye narrowed. "What curious fur," he said with slight concern. He thought it somewhat resembled cells in prophase, but the pattern was likely coincidental. "I wonder how they managed it. I hope it wasn't cruel," his voice as low and soothing as the cat read Sigma's intent. As skilled in genetics as Sigma was, he couldn't imagine breeding cats for such peculiar and specific markings.

[iselldrugstothecommunity]

"The, um, the little tag near the cage..." Howard stole that too, of course. He fumbles for it in his pocket. "Says it's a he, born five months ago, felis domesticus, breed, Rusty Panemian Peafowl."

That is absolutely the dumbest breed for a cat he's ever heard.

"He likes you way more than the last one did." Howard wants to ask if he can try and pet the kitty too, but he doesn't move towards it. He figures he probably has enough bad cat karma (catma?) that the little guy will smell the bad vibes off him and try to rip his face off.

[futilecycle]

So it was bred to look this way. Curiosity ignites in Sigma's eye, but is replaced with affection when the cat rubs his head against Sigma's outstretched hand. "Of course he does, he was bred to be docile. A boy, then? I've got just the name for mew." He had made up Rita's name on the spot to try and divert an awkward encounter and it wasn't a name he would actually consider giving a pet. But this one's name came easily to him, and he gives the cat a goofy smile. "I'll call him Nye. Do you like that, kitty?"

After giving Nye a few more cheerful pets, Sigma straightens up and takes a seat. The feline begins to explore his new home, jumping up on the bed and starting with the pillows. It seems as though the Doctor's sleeping space has been commandeered. The old man looks back at Howard and smiles. "You didn't need to, Howard, but I'm glad you did. I wish there was something I could give you in return."

[iselldrugstothecommunity]

Howard looks at the tag again - supposedly this specimen was originally named Helios - but decides to let Sigma stick with the one he's given it. Howard crumples the paper up in his hand and tucks it back in his pocket, standing awkwardly still as the cat sniffs his ankles.

"You don't got to. I'm the one who yelled at you and ran off to do my own thing." Besides, now that K's dead, Howard doesn't have competition, or so he tells himself.