fandomhighdorms | The Deck; Late Sunday Afternoon.

Chad was still a little bit confused by the lack of usual clothing and the seemingly abundance of tight pants and flowy shirts and bandanas that seemed to have worked his way into his closet, but he'd been here long enough to not worry about it until it had been at least a few days.

He did discover that he didn't like himself in those flowy shirts, though; he liked loose fits, sure, but those were just way too flowy. And he figured, if he was going to be shirtless, he might as well enjoy the sun a little, so he went down to the deck, and lounged a bit.

Because, you know, he needed a tan.

Well, Prince Oscar Pedro could use one. Lathered up with plenty of high SPF sunscreen, the cat lounged with Chad, enjoying the lingering sun of the day. And, yes, he had a nice bandana, too. He didn't even seem to mind. It wasn't nearly as annoying as the sweater, especially since Chad had wrapped it to give his ears freedom.

[[ yeah, like I could live with myself if I didn't use piratical shirtless Chad icon today. Anyway, open ]]

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"Gyah!" Katchoo had been lost in her thoughts -- namely, what exactly she was going to tell Francine when they had that conversation she couldn't put off much longer -- and ideas for sketches, and miraculously managed to not notice the gigantic guy and -- was that a cat? Seriously? Several pencils went clattering to the deck as she tried to mask her startlement, and the subsequent chagrin at being caught off guard. "Don't frikkin' do that, God!"

Wondering how a simple greeting could have caused such an excitable reaction, Chad grunted a little and dully noted it, lowering his hand. "Uh, sorry?"

Saying 'no, it's okay' wasn't exactly in Katchoo's standard conversational repertoire, so she just shook her head. "Didn't see you there. You're amazingly quiet for someone your size, y'know."

"That's because I am this size," Chad answered back, convinced that this was true after spending yesterday in someone much smaller's body. "I'm Chad," he added. "This is Prince Oscar Pedro."

The cat in question was currently nibbling on the tail ends of his bandanna.

". . . right," Katchoo said after a second or two to try and parse out the logic there; she couldn't see it herself, but she had, after all, gotten her nickname on account of being 'no bigger than a sneeze' when she was born. Puberty hadn't done much to distance her from the evaluation, either.

"Katina," she added, and yes, it was pretty much an afterthought. "Nice . . . what the hell pet is that?"

"He's a cat," Chad said, simply, like he had pointed to the sky and said that's a cloud. It seemed pretty apparent to him, but maybe Katina come from somewhere that didn't have cats.

"Weeeeeeeeird," said Katchoo, in about the same tone of voice as she could have said 'huh.' If she didn't hate cats, she thought, she could've gotten one like that just to freak people out. "He ever going to grow into his name?"

"You mean the whole prince thing?" Chad asked, and took a moment to considering the nibbling naked feline. He grunted. "Believe me, he has."

Just, apparently, not so much today.

Katchoo got up off her lounge chair to gather up her scattered pencils, swearing a little under her breath when she discovered the lead had broken on a couple of them. "Yeah? Where's his tiara?"

"It's a crown," Chad corrected her. "And it was upstairs, but it's missing right now."

"God, you're serious," Katchoo said, not sure whether to gape or facepalm.

"He doesn't like wearing it," Chad added, a little sadly. "But I think that's just 'cause he's more humble than he lets on."

"Well, yeah, I mean, I would be too if I was him," Katchoo remarked. If she sounded a little distracted, she was still caught up in boggling that he was serious.

Chad, of course, either by nature or the fact that he was so used to reactions like that that he barely recognized boggling when it was directed at him, barely noticed.

"Because of the whole...no fur thing?" he guessed.

"Well, yeah, that and geez, his name's longer than he is," said Katchoo, who was now faced with the unfamiliar predicament of sympathizing with a cat.

There was a long sort of pause.

"...I don't even think I told you his whole name, either," Chad realized.

Katchoo whacked herself in the forehead with the heel of her hand, instantly regretting it and swearing up a brief but impressive storm when she knocked ash into her eye. "It's like the bonus set of steak knives that comes with the Ginsu set or something . . ."

The slap on the forehead and the sudden bout of swears confused Chad, and he eyed Katina with some uncertainty before he chanced a response.

"Well," he offered, as if this simple comment would explain it all, "I'm half-Mexican, so..."

"It's like playing connect the dots with invisible ink," Katchoo muttered. "Aw, screw it. I'm just gonna draw."

[OOC: Being dragged off to the movies, but didn't want to leave it hanging . . .]

Chad's head tilted a little at that; it would take a moment before it would transfer. He nodded, though, grunting a little. "Sorry to interrupt," he said, and then went back to his sunning, and letting her get back to her drawing.

The Deck; Late Sunday Afternoon.

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