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[walksonrooftops]

Deck 001, Room 088

Home of your friendly neighborhood felines

[This post is designated for all your room 088 actionspam needs. This page is for Asato specifically! Konoe lives here too, however, so it's possible to see him around. This post also covers general deck 001 actionspam in the kitchens, hallways, etc.
Want to come by and say hi to Asato without making a comm post for it? Feel free to do so here! Visitors are welcomed. Just specify when your character is stopping by in the subject line.

Keep in mind Asato is out on patrol in the mornings!

All images are from here]

Comments

[sweetmotherofgod]

[It takes a lot of self-control for her not to show up at a minute past noon, ready to go. But she figures he'll want a little time to unwind first, especially since people are likely to be jumpy after the pirate attack, so she waits.

Unfortunately she only manages to wait about half an hour before she turns up with the dress, needle and thread and the sharpest scissors she could find (all "borrowed" from Medbay, of all places), and a plate of sandwiches. And then she doesn't have a free hand to knock with. Oops.]

Um - Asato? Hi.

[Loud. Sorry neighbours. She'll just be sorta-kinda knocking with her elbow.]

[walksonrooftops]

[Half an hour's afforded him some time to come back from patrol, have a shower, brush his tail, and put on some clean clothes. By the time she comes elbowing at his door, he's had a minute or two to check the comms--aside from Tyke's injury, the aftermath of the pirate attack has little to do with him, so there isn't much to catch up on. All he had to do was fight and protect, so unless they call him and put him on guard duty somewhere, he considers his job done.

When he opens the door, he's not sure whether he should look at her, the dress and sewing supplies, or those sandwiches. Heather this is why you're the best ever.]

Hi, Heather. [First things first, though. He greets her with a smile, steps aside, nods for her to come in. In light of their work today, he's cleared a little space in their war-zone of a room, enough that she can stand comfortable and reach the desk chair if need be.]

Um. Are those... [Sandwiches though.

If he's got to wait until after they're done then he will, but going on patrol does leave a cat pretty hungry...]

[sweetmotherofgod]

[Their room may look a little like somebody's recently robbed it, but it's cosy. She notices the clearing though, and grins at it. That's sweet. But it's pretty clear where Asato's attention is, so she extends the plate.]

Figured we could have lunch before we start. I hope peanut butter's okay. There's... a lot more of it around since Simon left.

[Okay, that was depressing. But on the bright side, even she can make peanut butter sandwiches unsupervised and not screw them up.]

[walksonrooftops]

[Well, if she's offering--he grabs a sandwich (two sandwiches, three sandwiches, he's hungry okay) off the plate, takes a seat on the edge of his bed, tail curled around his leg, and digs right in. Looks like peanut butter is just fine.]

You brought everything else too? [Speaking turns out to be a little difficult when it's through a mouthful of peanut butter, but he asks anyway. He saw she had a handful of supplies, and the most he ever has in here at any given time is needle and thread (one color: black, perfect for patching up tattered crew-issue outfits). So it would save him a trip down to forage for some more, and save her the bother of having to wait until he comes back.]

It's a pretty dress. [Except he hasn't seen it on her yet, but he decides it doesn't matter. Heather's dress must be a good dress.]

[sweetmotherofgod]

[Good thing she made a bunch. There's a little shuffling while she sets down her supplies and then seizes a sandwich of her own.]

Yeah! Thought I might as well, so we could get right to it.

[And she's just going to assume he's referring to the way it looked on Kitten and grin.]

It's pretty great. Don't know if I'll be able to work it as well as she did, [she won't be wearing the snazzy jacket or the cute little hat, for starters] but I can try. Definitely needs some work though. I tried it on and it nearly comes down to my ankles.

[walksonrooftops]

I didn't know her. [He falls back onto his bed, makes short work of another sandwich. Even if he tries, he can't remember meeting anyone called Kitten, but if she was kind enough to leave Heather her dress then she couldn't have been a bad person. Still, he doesn't have a clue what it looked like on her or what it will look like on Heather, just that he doesn't hate what he sees so far of its color and shape. They can work out the rest once they get started.

It would help if he knew the first thing about dresses, though.]

Ankles. It...shouldn't do that?

[sweetmotherofgod]

[There's already a lot of talking-through-sandwich going on in this room, and it turns into a pretty close shave with potential mess as Heather starts laughing around a mouthful of peanut butter. But she manages not to spit it out or inhale it and just shakes her head, swallows when the giggles subside.]

Not this kind of dress. 'specially not on me. It hit Kitten at like midcalf, but I'd be more comfortable with it shorter.

[Miniskirt Mason is allergic to hemlines that come past her knees. When you don't have a lot in the boob department and habitually wear a jacket that makes you look like you don't have a waist, your legs do all the work, right?]

That should be pretty easy though, right? We just... chop it off and sew a new hem?

squints at voice, harrumph....

[walksonrooftops]

[Once Heather breaks into her fit of giggles, his ears flick up and he pushes to sit back up on his bed in an attempt to figure out what's going on all of a sudden. Did he say something weird? If he did, he wouldn't know it; the closest he knows to dresses are robes, and those cover just about every bit of a person.

But if it's short Heather wants, then it's short Heather's going to get.]

Yeah. That's how you do it. You cut if off, and sew it again. [He's made a few alterations like that to his own uniform, fixed up the uncomfortable jacket and cut a place for his tail to go. Because apparently the ship was only equipped to dress passengers with four limbs and not an appendage more.]

First you have to put it on. [And he stares at her while sandwich number three meets its feline maker...and keeps staring, from her to the supplies she's brought, his head taking a slight tilt. Because awkward is just what he does. Hey, they parade around in various states of undress after jumps all the time, it's not a big deal, right?] And then stand there. So we're sure it's right. Do you have pins?

[sweetmotherofgod]

That I can manage.

[So not bothered. Everybody's seen everybody in next to nothing around here anyway, and she figures the start is just Asato being his slightly off-kilter self so she starts to stand -

and then makes a face.]

I do not have pins. I wouldn't even know where to get them. Damn.

[walksonrooftops]

I have...

[He gets up to rummage through the piles of stuff the two of them have amassed in this room over the span of over a year, setting aside books, pens, clothes, pillows, anything at all, practically turning his desk inside out until--]

I have these. [Safety pins. An impressive grand total of three. It's everything but ideal, but it's far better than nothing. It means the hem will be mostly sort of straight, instead of "this is eyeballed so please gods let it be straight". If they had a clothes iron around it would be easier, but Asato doesn't even know what that is.

So it's time to buckle down and make do.]

[sweetmotherofgod]

Better than nothing! I have a pencil, too, so if we get desperate we can always, like, draw a line around the inside or something.

[That'll work, right? Whatever. Sandwiches finished, she's just going to be shimmying out of her clothes and into the dress 'cause it's nbd when it's Asato. The dress is white with a tiny black polka-dot pattern and black piping, and it's supposed to have a demurely high front and lower back neckline, capped sleeves and a sharp nip in at the waist before the skirt billows out. On Heather, the cap sleeves are damn near off-the-shoulder, the modest neckline gapes and the wait is so far from her actual waist there might as well not be one.]

Heh. I feel like a kid playing dressups in her mother's clothes.

[And Kitten wasn't even that big, considering. She moves over to the cleared spot and plonks her hands on her hips.]

What now?

[walksonrooftops]

[Asato considers it for a moment, then nods. It's true, that's the best they've got, so even if it's not the greatest way to do it, he'll figure out a way to make it work if there are no other options. While she puts on the dress, he grabs the remaining materials she brought, but only to sort through them and be sure of what's there before he sets them all aside again.

Another person might've snickered at the fit of that dress, but Asato can't remember the last time he saw someone in a dress at all, so all he does instead is cock his head and resume staring for a few seconds before deciding,] It doesn't fit.

[Excellent observation well done gold star.

Safety pins in hand, he uses a foot to nudge aside some of the blankets littering the floor, creating enough space to let him stand next to her.] Here, here... [From the top down he examines the fit, the wide shoulders, the oversized neckline, the admittedly ridiculous lack of a waist. Good for a six-year-old just having some fun before raiding mom's makeup chest (he would've participated, if he and Heather were little and she used the right sort of persuasion, like a fruit snack or a determined "It'll be fun!"). But that's not what they're here for.]

That. [He points to the hem of the dress where it falls to Heather's ankles. Clothing terminology apparently isn't his strong suit either.] How long do you want that part to be?

[sweetmotherofgod]

Hey, Heather's not that fancy on the technical terms either. Is it still called a skirt if it's part of a dress? Whatever, it's not her job to know all the words, it's her job to try and look cute in it. So her hand hovers for a moment - usually she considers the appropriate length for a skirt to be about three inches below her butt, to the constant chagrin of both her actual father and her new spacedad - but this isn't really that kind of dress.

"Here?" She points, four fingers or so above where her knee is hiding somewhere under all that fabric. It's positively demure for her, but... well, that might be nice for a change. She still phrases it as a question; man, does she want to get this right.

"Do you think that's... ah - I'm sorta trying to impress someone and I just want it to look - nice. Pretty. I mean, I don't wanna look like someone's grandma but a little mystery might be nice for once, you know?"

It doesn't occur to her that she's asking for fashion advice from a cat who refers to a hemline as that part and as far as she knows is exclusively into dudes one dude. He's her friend, so his opinion counts.

[walksonrooftops]

As soon as she's shown him how long she wants it, Asato's kneeling down to fold over the hem and pin it in place, happy to follow requests but not exactly qualified to give advice of his own. He's just a country cat who knows how to fix his good(ish) pair of pants if they get snagged on a branch, gowns or dresses or hell, looking nice isn't his area of expertise. As far as he knows, ties look nice too, so maybe he'll lend her his so she can wear it as a combo, mystery with a touch of class. Do humans dress like that?

Whatever, it's Heather he's helping out here, so come hell or high water he will figure this out.

"Impress?" A glance up from where he's trying to get the hem to cooperate without simply unfolding again, curious and mostly clueless. But that sounds pretty private, and he's not going to start digging into what's both private and important. He's not that nosy.

"Uh... I think it looks nice when it's like that. And pretty. But the rest looks weird." But hey, that's why he's here, right? Still, Asato hasn't been around the ladies long enough to form a strong opinion one way or the other, and he's not going to stop being into that one dude any time soon, so she might want to get a second opinion just in case.

At least no one can say he's being dishonest.

[sweetmotherofgod]

She laughs, bright and happy. Asato is sweet and kind, but he's also refreshingly honest and it takes a measure of self-control for her not to just reach out and pet one of his ears.

"Weird's a nice way of putting it." She might have gone with tragic, but her desire for this to work out might be making her a little melodramatic.

"Did you sew a lot back home?"

[walksonrooftops]

Heather knows enough about him that he can't give her anything but absolute honesty, even if he were less straightforward than he already is. He won't get melodramatic about it, amusing as the sight might be, but "weird" sums it all up pretty nicely for him. Weird shape, weird length, she looks weird in it. He's no fashion idol, but he wouldn't feel right walking around in something like this either. How would he climb trees in that outfit? It's impractical.

He pins the other side, then once more, before he gets up to grab the scissors, ready to cut off what he already can. They'll get that hem done first and work their way up from there. He's just put the scissors to fabric when she asks him that question, so he stops to look up at her and shakes his head.

"Not all the time. But I knew how to do it, so I could fix my clothes if they got torn. It's best if you know how to do those things yourself." His attention falls back to the hem, the first cut almost too cautious and hesitant. This dress belongs to Heather, and it belonged to Heather's friend before that, so it won't do to treat it any other way.

"When I met Konoe the first time, we fought. I tore his gauntlet with my knife." Snip snip, careful, careful... "I felt bad about it. So I fixed it for him. I sewed it back together."

[sweetmotherofgod]

"Like when he came here, or the first time you met him back where you're from?"

She's... never really asked about that. Knew that they knew each other, and like just about everyone else here seemed to have decided they were a perfect fit even before the cats themselves had, but it's not really something they've ever really talked about, is it? And maybe she's just got that sort of thing on the mind, right now.

Then again, maybe they haven't talked about it because he doesn't want to, and her cheeks pinken a little. She better not confuse the fact that Asato will probably tell her anything she wants to know with her having the right to ask.

"If you don't mind telling me about it, I mean."

[walksonrooftops]

"I don't mind."

It's something they don't talk about simply because it doesn't come up, and Asato feels little need to mention that rather rocky start when they're now joined at the hip. But there's a clear difference between the things he mentions in passing because they're relevant, however vaguely, and the ones he mumbles under his breath with his forehead against his knees and his tail curled around his legs.

He may be willing to tell Heather more than most other people, but she doesn't need to force this out of him. When he answers, it's that same halting, breathy neutrality he usually speaks in, his head lowered so he can focus on not ruining her dress.

"Where we're from. When we met, he was an intruder. I had to get rid of intruders, so we fought." Probably best not to mention the curse if he can help it, so he skips that part. That's for Konoe to decide to share or not. "I brought him back to my village, and he stayed in my house. I fixed his gauntlet then."

His turn to let a slight bit of color rise to his cheeks. "We were okay. When he came here, we weren't fighting anymore."