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The Roof, Wednesday Evening
Wednesday, September 10th, 2008 05:41 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
thismaskiwear.livejournal.comWhen Katchoo had gotten that copy of Elegant Waste from the library this morning, she'd been planning on reading it today. It had been a couple of years since she had, after all.
Clearly, she hadn't been planning on the book not staying a book, and now she was up on the roof with a pack of cigarettes, an easel and her paints, and a scrawny, trashed-looking kitten who was hitting the catnip way too hard.
Every now and then, it'd come up to her and mew plaintively as if it wanted a drag off her cigarette.
"No," she'd tell it. "Stick to your happy cat leaf, frikkin' furball."
And with a little woe-is-me sigh, it would pad back over to the corner under the Garden of Cranky Plants (as Katchoo had come to call it) and sprawl out in its little pile of catnip, one paw flung melodramatically across its eyes.
Frikkin' Fandom. All she'd wanted was something to read, not a tiny feline junkie. Well . . . at least she was getting really into the painting, and even if she didn't know exactly what she was doing, it was shaping up to be a pretty impressive, if faceless, human figure.
[OOC: Open like roofs tend to be.]
Clearly, she hadn't been planning on the book not staying a book, and now she was up on the roof with a pack of cigarettes, an easel and her paints, and a scrawny, trashed-looking kitten who was hitting the catnip way too hard.
Every now and then, it'd come up to her and mew plaintively as if it wanted a drag off her cigarette.
"No," she'd tell it. "Stick to your happy cat leaf, frikkin' furball."
And with a little woe-is-me sigh, it would pad back over to the corner under the Garden of Cranky Plants (as Katchoo had come to call it) and sprawl out in its little pile of catnip, one paw flung melodramatically across its eyes.
Frikkin' Fandom. All she'd wanted was something to read, not a tiny feline junkie. Well . . . at least she was getting really into the painting, and even if she didn't know exactly what she was doing, it was shaping up to be a pretty impressive, if faceless, human figure.
[OOC: Open like roofs tend to be.]