[Right? How did a cat manage to get into the manor? Akira wouldn't answer that question even if he could, but once the door opens, both Musashi and Akira drive right on in. Yamato's probably wondering where his roomba went, but Akira doesn't care. Cats ain't gotta explain shit. Now watch Akira and Musashi disappear under Kurapika's bed.]
[Ah. For some reason, Akira expected Kurapika to be the diligent, anal-retentive sort to dust his room thoroughly from top to bottom, but the muted kitty sneezes emanating from under the bed clearly prove overwise.
Leaving Musashi to do its job for once, Akira hops up on the bed and observes the prone Kurapika. As cats do, Catkira stares at him. Does he seriously not recognize him in this form...? If he did, he'd definitely have given him a frostier reception after— you know.]
[ Kurapika is spread out like a starfish, tilting his head towards his guest when he feels a slight shift in weight on the mattress. ]
That’s what you get for going under my bed.
[ The sneezes, he means.
A moment passes as Kurapika works to recognize the magical signature he feels, and recognition lights up his eyes. It’s obviously Akira, and the mild surprise on his face makes it incredibly obvious that he knows.
You should have left me alone, is what his expression seems to say, even as he reaches out to place a hand atop his little kitty head. ]
[That look in Kurapika's eyes... He recognizes him, doesn't he? And yet he isn't mad. He would be ushering Akira out the door if he really knew it was him, wouldn't he? So maybe he's just surprised this cat is so insistent on taking up space. Yeah, maybe that's it.
Akira tentatively places a paw on Kurapika's stomach. Can he come loaf on you, sir? A warm palm settled atop his head is promising, and if he might be so bold, he'd like it if Kurapika touched him a little more. You know, platonically.]
[ Platonically, of course. Why would Akira ever want anything from him that wasn't platonic?
When Akira presses down on Kurapika's stomach, it's probably a lot firmer than he expects—or maybe Akira already realized it before, when they were fighting... and after that, too.
That's neither here nor there, though, because Kurapika adjusts his position to make it easier for him to read while this cat sits on him. ]
[...Oh? Twink abs? Now Akira really regrets not feeling this guy up when he had the chance, but oh well. You win some, you lose some, and he's currently winning, stepping carefully onto Kurapika's stomach and tucking into a neat loaf. Ah, so warm... no wonder cats like to sit on laps.]
Me-meow?
[Akira paws the cover of Kurapika's book. Whatcha readin?]
[ He looks at Kittykira over the top of his book. ]
History on the North.
[ For a brief moment, Kurapika considers leaving it at that and letting a silence lapse between them, but the bit of separation his mind allows him with Akira stuck as a cat makes it easy to say more. ]
I used to read all kinds of history books as a kid. This is the first time in years I've had a chance to do that.
[Sounds like an interesting read. He'll have to borrow that book from Kurapika when they're... you know... "talking" again.
Akira gives a curious trill. He can easily imagine Kurapika as the sort of child who got lost in books of adventure and history and tales of all sorts... but at the same time, it's hard to imagine a young Kurapika. He's old beyond his years, a battered but yet undefeated soul. He's seen a lot in his life, hasn't he? And yet he's barely older than himself.
Akira lets Kurapika read in silence for a time. Eventually, he shifts to lie on his side, cheek resting against the left side of Kurapika's chest. Akira's little kitty paw raps against the spine of the book, and when he frees up a hand to look at what he wants, Akira latches on and gently pulls his hand towards himself. Pet him. This may be the only time Kurapika puts his hands on his body, so Akira wants to enjoy it.]
Kurapika clearly doesn't think much of it, his hand absentmindedly moving to pet Akira's head before he pets him along his back, adjusting the book in his hand so he can keep reading. ]
This feels nice. Incredible. Amazing. What does Morgana have to complain about when he gets to be treated like this on the daily? Akira's purring before he realizes it, scooting to center himself on Kurapika's chest before rolling onto his back. Pet! Pet the belly!!]
[ What a reaction... all it does is manage to make Kurapika laugh, jostling Kittykira a little bit in the process. But sure, he'll oblige and pat his tummy, albeit roughly. ]
[Why so rough all of a sudden?! Akira kicks and squirms and ultimately slides right off Kurapika's stomach and onto the floor, bonking Musashi in the process.]
[Apology accepted only because that beautiful smile is oh so charming. Akira hops back up on the bed, thinks for a moment, and opts to curl up next to Kurapika's head on the pillow.]
[No, not quite. He's just taking a break from the intentional overstimulation, sir. Akira lifts his head, kitty whiskers ghosting along Kurapika's cheek, and licks his face. Not for any particular reason, mind. He's just always wanted to do that.]
[What, vigorously rubbing his belly is fine but a little mlem mlem is too far? What a hypocrite. Akira leans forward and pokes Kurapika's cheek with the cold, wet tip of his nose for his audacity.]
[Kittykira is innocent! Innocent of all crimes! He goes limp in Kurapika's hold, tail swishing sweetly from side to side... What kind of monster could get mad at him for behaving like any cat would?]
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A cat isn’t the worst…
[ Not like a spider or anything.
Kurapika will just leave the two to… whatever it is they’re doing under there and lay back down on his bed. ]
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Leaving Musashi to do its job for once, Akira hops up on the bed and observes the prone Kurapika. As cats do, Catkira stares at him. Does he seriously not recognize him in this form...? If he did, he'd definitely have given him a frostier reception after— you know.]
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That’s what you get for going under my bed.
[ The sneezes, he means.
A moment passes as Kurapika works to recognize the magical signature he feels, and recognition lights up his eyes. It’s obviously Akira, and the mild surprise on his face makes it incredibly obvious that he knows.
You should have left me alone, is what his expression seems to say, even as he reaches out to place a hand atop his little kitty head. ]
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Akira tentatively places a paw on Kurapika's stomach. Can he come loaf on you, sir? A warm palm settled atop his head is promising, and if he might be so bold, he'd like it if Kurapika touched him a little more. You know, platonically.]
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When Akira presses down on Kurapika's stomach, it's probably a lot firmer than he expects—or maybe Akira already realized it before, when they were fighting... and after that, too.
That's neither here nor there, though, because Kurapika adjusts his position to make it easier for him to read while this cat sits on him. ]
Go ahead.
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Me-meow?
[Akira paws the cover of Kurapika's book. Whatcha readin?]
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History on the North.
[ For a brief moment, Kurapika considers leaving it at that and letting a silence lapse between them, but the bit of separation his mind allows him with Akira stuck as a cat makes it easy to say more. ]
I used to read all kinds of history books as a kid. This is the first time in years I've had a chance to do that.
[ So he's taking full advantage of it. ]
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Akira gives a curious trill. He can easily imagine Kurapika as the sort of child who got lost in books of adventure and history and tales of all sorts... but at the same time, it's hard to imagine a young Kurapika. He's old beyond his years, a battered but yet undefeated soul. He's seen a lot in his life, hasn't he? And yet he's barely older than himself.
Akira lets Kurapika read in silence for a time. Eventually, he shifts to lie on his side, cheek resting against the left side of Kurapika's chest. Akira's little kitty paw raps against the spine of the book, and when he frees up a hand to look at what he wants, Akira latches on and gently pulls his hand towards himself. Pet him. This may be the only time Kurapika puts his hands on his body, so Akira wants to enjoy it.]
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Kurapika clearly doesn't think much of it, his hand absentmindedly moving to pet Akira's head before he pets him along his back, adjusting the book in his hand so he can keep reading. ]
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oooooooohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH,
This feels nice. Incredible. Amazing. What does Morgana have to complain about when he gets to be treated like this on the daily? Akira's purring before he realizes it, scooting to center himself on Kurapika's chest before rolling onto his back. Pet! Pet the belly!!]
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[Why so rough all of a sudden?! Akira kicks and squirms and ultimately slides right off Kurapika's stomach and onto the floor, bonking Musashi in the process.]
...Meow...
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There's a smile on his face. ]
Sorry.
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[Apology accepted only because that beautiful smile is oh so charming. Akira hops back up on the bed, thinks for a moment, and opts to curl up next to Kurapika's head on the pillow.]
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Over it already?
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[No, not quite. He's just taking a break from the intentional overstimulation, sir. Akira lifts his head, kitty whiskers ghosting along Kurapika's cheek, and licks his face. Not for any particular reason, mind. He's just always wanted to do that.]
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Stop. That feels weird.
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I meant it. One more time and you're getting kicked out.
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[That's fine! Maybe he wants to get kicked out? Akira isn't going to cave to idle threats.
Akira gets up, gingerly stretches, taps down to the end of the bed and bites Kurapika's foot.]
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And then, he moves to scoop him up.
This is your punishment—air jail. ]
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[Kittykira is innocent! Innocent of all crimes! He goes limp in Kurapika's hold, tail swishing sweetly from side to side... What kind of monster could get mad at him for behaving like any cat would?]
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You brought this on yourself.
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[Akira's tail moves as a cow's does, swatting at invisible flies. He is not! Happy!! Kurapika made his point, so can he put him down please?]
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