Application for Macavity

[hidden-paw.livejournal.com]

Macavity groans and rubs his head as he looks around. Must be a another stunt by Mistoffelees. If the kit kept on like this, he’d have to be disposed of…
Well, that was a new one. An over-sized cartoon rat was, if nothing else, an original illusion. Perhaps the Twins had chosen to try to screw up his head again, and this was only an elaborate mind-trap.

Mickey coughs theatrically. "'What is your name?'"

Ah, well, might as well play along. He is the best psychic that he knows of, and could easily break out of this game any time he wants to, but he feels like humouring people today. Before tearing out a few throats, of course. He finally deigns to answer the rodent. “Macavity, of course.”

"What is your quest?" asks the Cat. It's perched, suddenly, on the roof of one of the gate-stiles.

He blinks. Defintely a mind-trap. That thing is probably meant to be his inner kitten or something, and he knows he doesn’t have one anymore – it had been a long and bloody mental battle before Runda had finally given up the ghost.
His ears flick back. “My quest? To destroy my elder brother and his followers and have Demeter by my side once and for all.”

"'What is the average w..?'" Mickey frowns down at the notebook. "You
know, I don't really see why that's important." He flips a page. "'If you could be granted three wishes, what would they be?"

“Hmm.” The Jellicle strokes his chin and pretends to think on it, tail swishing from side-to-side. “For my elder brother and his followers to be dead, for Demeter to willingly come to me, although actually that would be my first wish because it would destroy Munkustrap to see it, and I suppose world domination would agreeable, but with none of the stupid conscequences and catches.”

"Or," the Cat says, examining its tail with interest, "if you were a genie and someone you were trying to give three wishes to was trying to trick you into giving him more, what would you say?"

“I wouldn’t say anything – I’d just kill him.”

Mickey looks rather nonplused at the next, but reads, "When the revolution comes, what skills will you be able to barter for food?"

“Barter?” A small smile creeps onto the Napoleon of Crime’s face. “Why, in the deepest basement, would I barter? Stealing is far easier, and so much more entertaining.”

The Cat rolls its eyes in a friendly (and rather disconcertingly out-of-sync) way, and asks, "Milk, dark, or white chocolate?"

“Oh, Dark, every time.” For life as well as chocolate, he thinks to himself.

"Choose the two coolest: robots, pirates, fairies, bears, ninjas, monkeys, vampires, or humans," says Mickey, giggling a bit as he goes through the list. "Explain."

“The coolest? That would be a phrase I had hoped to never hear from the lips of a single being, save for perhaps my youngest brother.” Again, the cat-human’s black furred ears stroke back momentarily, then he regains control. “But very well. Pirates – I’ve had one or two in my employ over time, and although they are, mostly uncouth braggarts, with little interests in life beside the three F’s, they have a tendency to be very useful, and ninjas, for the self-same reason, although they have a habit of earning my respect better than Growltiger and his ilk, for they are respectful in their turn and are far more efficient.”

"Great!" Mickey flips through the blank pages of the notebook at top, cartoon-y speed. "Well, I think that's just about it! Oh, and I'm supposed to ask, 'for your safety: are you carrying anything sharp?'"


“I’m carrying nothing. But my claws are and teeth are sharp enough, should the opportunity arise that I may use them.” He purrs, a small savage grin darting across his features.

((OOC: This guy's the big bad from CATS, for anyone who hadn't the foggiest - That's the musical by AL Webber and the poetry collection - old possum's book of pratical cats - by TS eliot))

Comments

[hidden-paw.livejournal.com]

Macavity snorts. "Then I trust you consider yourself lucky. Relatives mean nothing but trouble."

[anthony-crowley.livejournal.com]

"I'll trust your word on that, then," says Crowley. "So is there somewhere specific you wanted to live?"

[hidden-paw.livejournal.com]

"Somewhere civilized - not 'Critter Country,'" he says the name with distaste, but a small smirk at the same time, "I think I should rather like to stay close to somewhere with literature readily available, as I have a feeling they'll be much time to read around here."

[anthony-crowley.livejournal.com]

"How would you know if it's civilised or not?" asks Crowley not unreasonably, though he only believes one land to be remotely 'civilised'.

"As for literature, you're in a bloody amusement park, not the British Museum's reading room. Far as I can tell, the only books they have here have a lot of brightly coloured pictures in them."

[hidden-paw.livejournal.com]

Macavity makes a small hrrrrrmm noise, somewhere between a purr and a growl. "Good point, I suppose. I had hoped that there would be somewhere where the more sensible fools who get dragged along to this place could be offered some respite from some of the more garish atrocities, but from what your saying, there's no such luck. And as to what I consider civilized - somewhere with taste. I don't trust you, but I rather think you would know good taste when you saw it. Where are you staying?"

[anthony-crowley.livejournal.com]

"Sensible fools," repeats Crowley with a snort. "The most garish places appear to be Fantasyland and Toon Town. I'm staying in New Orleans Square, although Main Street would have been almost acceptable. If you're into mid-century modernity, perhaps you'd like Tomorrowland. That is, if you get a choice. The mouse seems to be the one who ultimately decides."

[hidden-paw.livejournal.com]

"The mouse? Ah, you see I'd rather suspected it to be a rat from the size. Although I suppose if he is indeed the one who controls this farce, I'd best play nice...at least to begin with." He grins mirthlessly. "However, if I do get landed somewhere awful, or do not get some answers soon enough, well...we'll see how much of a rodent he really is, shall we?"

[anthony-crowley.livejournal.com]

"Have you ever seen a five foot tall cartoon rat?" asks Crowley disbelieving. "And I'd be very much surprised if you can harm him, although I'd like to see you try."

[hidden-paw.livejournal.com]

"I'd like to see me try too." He admits. "The creature smells faintly of ink and paper, and then nothing. I suspect my claws would pass directly through it before I got to hurt it. But you'll never know until you try, as my mad seeress grandmother said."