when i was younger, so much younger than today, i never needed anybody's help in any way

[moralperil]

Date & Time: 1/22, early afternoon
Location: The Clinic
Characters: Mahdi (moralperil) & Anders (birdhousesoul)
Summary: Mahdi has a bit of a problem. He was told to go to Anders for advice.
Warnings: Potentially really disgustingly cute. Cats and talking about crushes, OMG. Might also be a little sad?


[Mahdi is actually extremely nervous. Ever since he realized this weird, big, important, extremely awkward thing, he's been uncertain how to proceed. It doesn't help that he hasn't been to sleep since he first messaged Anders. Instead, he cooked. It's the sort of thing he does when he's overcompensating. Rice balls with three different fillings, a recipe he's recently uncovered that definitely takes plenty of time. He's carrying a basket on one arm, his purple flashlight on a holster on his opposite hip when he enters.

Mahdi is small, not even five feet all, his wild dark hair pulled back into a low ponytail. His appearance is actually a little bit neater than usual in spite of his obvious fatigue. Somehow, he got it into his head that he might seem crazy, and the 'don't be crazy' seed, planted, germinated into a rather obsessive assessment of his hygiene. He looks... very nice and neatly dressed in Initiate clothing (a glowing amethyst amulet tucked beneath his collar), if definitely approximately as fidgety as a squirming blanket full of restless puppies.

He asks for Anders specifically, and after being reassured he is not interrupting anything important, or even sort of important, goes to visit him in his respective area.]

Hi, you're Anders, right? I brought you lunch! With green tea! Oh, and hi! I'm Mahdi.

If I'm bothering you I can leave--!

Comments

[birdhousesoul]

[ Anders has got a pencil tucked behind his ear.

And another pencil stuck behind the hairtie that holds his ponytail in place.

And another pencil between his teeth as he gnaws it fretfully, regarding what someone has told him is called a spreadsheet. It has been printed out, of course, on paper. It is a list of things, and he has been annotating it. Smudgily.

Mahdi presents a very, very welcome diversion. Mahdi and lunch. ]

What? [ This said around the pencil, before he removes it belatedly. ] Not a bother at all! I've been expecting you. [ And he has! He's also half-wondering whether Mahdi is working up the courage to ask about a Problematic Rash of some kind. ] I ought to stop for lunch anyhow. It's very good of you to have brought something by. Not necessary, mind, but good of you. You'll stay, of course --

[ An orange cat, larger by far than the average housecat -- perhaps the size of a smallish-to-medium dog -- dashes into the room. Attracted by the scent, it would seem, for he sits himself down in front of Mahdi and stares intently at the basket. ]

-- to help us do it justice?

[Pounce underlines the invitation with a mrowr.]

[moralperil]

[Mahdi is still on the nervous side of nearly babbling.] Oh, sure. But it's mostly for you. I don't actually need to eat that mu-- cat!

[His thought is interrupted mid-stream by arrival of a big orange fluff ball. Mahdi crouches to let the tabby sniff his fingers, and then scratch gently behind his ears. All nervousness suddenly forgotten, he's quite intent on the cat.]

Mrow mrow? What's your name, kitty?

[birdhousesoul]

[ Anders would be lying if he said he didn't need to eat much himself. Warden appetite. Nonetheless, he wants to give Mahdi a reason to stick around and talk, and -- oh. Here comes a reason now!

Mahdi seems to like Pounce. He gleans Approval +5 from Anders right then and there for that.]

His name's Ser Pounce-a-lot. He does everything but talk. I'd say he thinks he's a human, but he's far too dignified for that. Human food, on the other hand, he's definitely partial to.

[moralperil]

Ser Pounce-a-Lot. That's an amazing name. Are you a fierce warrior, Ser Pounce-a-Lot?

[Mahdi is definitely a fan. He has completely forgotten his nervousness, petting the cat thoroughly and giving him scritches around his ears and butt.]

[birdhousesoul]

[ Pounce gives an affirmative mrow! Anders explains -- as though translating, though of course no such comprehension of feline language is possible for him.]

He's been a warrior ever since he was a tiny kitten. Used to travel with us into all sorts of nasty places -- he wouldn't be left at home, so I carried him in my pack. Little as he was, he actually attacked a genlock once. Hit it on the nose with his claws.

[ Granted, it had not been a very efficacious attack, as these things go. Anders believes it's the thought that counts where kitten bravery is concerned. ]

He's also something of a healer. You might say he's got multiple specializations. Right now I think he wants to be a taster.

[ This he adds because Pounce is trying to swat at the food basket. ]

[moralperil]

Do you want to eat with us, Ser Pounce-a-Lot?

[Mahdi searches around for a place to set out the food. He pours them both cups of steaming green tea, and unwraps the tray of riceballs. There's enough for three people with large appetites - probably a blessing that Mahdi always cooks for leftovers.]

I have grilled fish, miso-ish stuff with green onion, a carrot curry kind of thing... ohh, I bet you'd like this, I think it's salmon.

[The food here is sometimes a bit mysterious, but Mahdi does what he can and works with the ingredients he most recognizes.

He perches on one chair, crumbling open one of the rice balls to offer Pounce some grilled salmon.]

You have to eat too, Anders. I made these for you.