fandomhighdorms | Second Floor Common Room, Saturday Evening

Okay, so Sparkle had attempted to detach the velcro-cat several times on Thursday, to no avail. And on Friday, he'd been kind of flattered that the little black blob of clingy kitten had stuck around, but kind of concerned all the same. It wasn't as though he knew how to take care of a pet, after all. He'd fed it a can of tuna, gave it some water, and took it outside to do its business a few times, because it wasn't like he owned a litterbox or anything.

When Velcro was still around this morning, he'd relented. Even used some of the money he'd been saving from working at Demon Marcus to get cat supplies that morning, because... well, if it was going to stick around, it was probably a good idea to keep it from crapping in his laundry pile or something.

The thing was, Velcro didn't seem to like the crunchy cat-kibble things that Sparkle had bought. A bit of a piss-off, since he didn't have all that much money in the first place, but hey, that was what common room food was for, at least until he could wean the little guy off of people-food. A rummage through the cupboards, at least, yielded some canned food that the kitten did seem to like.

"Hah! Cats do too eat ham!"

Why did Fandom let Sparkle keep the cat, again?

[OOC: Open common room is open, and all Sparkle threads will be fuelled by the power of chocolate-covered espresso beans. Fear.]

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"That we are mature, responsible people who can totally be trusted with small animals?" Toby guessed. Or at the very least that last one.

"Man, you just using the words 'mature' and 'responsible' in a sentence that at least partly refers to me kind of makes me want to start laughing until I hurt something," Sparkle shared.

... It was actually pretty much the truth, too.

Toby snickered. "I swear, it won't happen again," he promised, holding his hands up in mock-surrender.

"Hah, yeah," Sparkle replied, smirking, "I'll believe that when it doesn't happen again."

That's generally how it worked, yes.

"It's bad enough someone actually gave me a job here, you know. Though I guess in fairness she'd probably rip out my spleen if I went and screwed it up."

"I had pretty much the same reaction," Toby admitted. "...Minus the spleen-ripping. More the surprise at being trusted with a job." Especially considering the circumstances that had led to aforementioned job.

"The spleen-ripping was the part that didn't surprise me," Sparkle admitted. "I mean, I was hired by a demon, you kind of have to expect that part. But... yeah. Someone actually trusting me to take cash and not pocket it or anything? The hell did that come from?"

"Considering my boss's response to me trying to take off without paying was to give me a job?" Toby nodded. "Right there with you."

"Yeah, I think all I wanted was like a pair of socks or something I couldn't afford." Sparkle? Still bewildered by this. "This shit would never happen in Toronto, am I right?"

"There'd be a lot more angry yelling, maybe some threats to get us sent to Brookside..." because shoplifting was totally an offense punishable by time in juvie, yup.

Well, repeatedly breaking and entering definitely was, but Sparkle wasn't going to just out and say that, whether he knew from experience or not.

He gave his head a shake.

"Does anyone ever get arrested around here? I mean, like, ever? Or do people just assume that if we're pocketing something it's because we like legitimately need it and they should embrace philanthropy all out of who-the-fuck-knows-where?"

As was setting fire to your foster dad's garage, but that had been entirely justified, and also not one of those things Toby was all that inclined to talk about, for multiple reasons.

"I don't know, man," Toby admitted. "I mean, the town has a Sheriff? But from what I hear he also works at the bar, so. Maybe crime really doesn't pay." Sometimes Toby thought he was clever.

"Either that, or he took like one look at the place, gave up, and decided that he really needed that booze discount," Sparkle mused, smirking a little at Toby's wit. "In which case, hey, go us?"

They really needed to start some sort of Torontonian lawbreakers club.

"Also entirely feasible," Toby had to admit. "But seriously, people are way too understanding around here sometimes. Like, how-do-you-function-in-the-real-world understanding."

"Seriously," Sparkle agreed. "You offer some punk-assed kid a job back home after you catch him eyeing the socks on the back wall, and that's just an invitation for him to run off with the cash register the moment you leave him alone with the keys."

Second Floor Common Room, Saturday Evening

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