Private The Rustclaws HANDS OFF THE MERCHANDISE ✷ ratfish

[RUSTED METAL's iconRUSTED METAL]

RUSTED METAL ──

rustclaws | cadet​

​

Rusted Metal's perch - or rather, her throne - sits high above the Rustclaws' base of operations, atop piles of junk and various scrap that leads up to, fittingly, a large sheet of metal that's being eaten up by rust. Lately she's been trying to get some kind of roof for the small area she's laid claim to - having to sit down below with the other cats in the bad weather is not to her standards, plus it'll be snowing soon. If only she could find something suitable... for now, she sticks to sorting through what she'd managed to collect earlier today.

Rust's collection is... varied, to put it lightly. She's managed to find all kinds of interesting stuff since joining the Rustclaws, and her little area is lined with things she's decided to use as decoration. Everything from animal bones to twoleg jewelry to shiny scraps of metal were all lined up neatly along the edges of her perch. Today, she's found an especially rare treasure - a stick with a long silver claw attached, still reasonably sharp despite being weathered. Rust has seen them before back in the days of the twoleg cages. If she recalls correctly, it's called a knife. Of course, she doesn't have to resort to using a disembodied claw like those twoleg weaklings do, but it's nice to have one among her collection knowing that it'll never see another twoleg's paw.

Rust is nearly done sorting through it all, precariously placing a dangly piece of twoleg jewelry to hang from a well-placed rusty fork, when she hears a rustling of movement nearby. Her good eye casts a glare at whoever has decided to come bother her, only for her expression to morph into one of slight surprise when she sees Ratfish, one of the kits. Her tail sweeps protectively over her treasures, obscuring some of them from the prying gaze of the younger cat.
"Looks like I've got a visitor. Who let ya all the way up here?"

give me a fight i can't resist

give me something to break with my fists

• ooc: @Ratfish
• "speaking" | thinking | action

 

[Ratfish]

RATFISH

.

Ratfish had been curious about the noise atop the junk throne. The clinking and clanking of items the best sound they've ever heard, aside from perhaps piles of junk falling down. But, unless someone were to make an error, that would not be happening anytime soon.

And so Ratfish climbed clumsily up the pile, to reach the top and discover what had been playing such lovely music. What else could Ratfish have discovered upon the junk throne than the rust queen herself? Rusted Metal, the biggest cat it's ever seen, sifting and sorting through various bits and trinkets. Ratfish didn't even bother looking at Rusted Metal, instead it stared at the trinkets with a wide eyed expression - not only were they making that beautiful noise, but they were also treasures to keep? How interesting!

Only when Rust adressed them, did they finally look up. The she-cat's eye bore into his fur, he didn't like being stared at, but he did intrude upon her throne and it would be better if he were to explain. "Treasures." rat pointed at Rust's collection. "Good sound. Pretty things."

Rats vocabulary had not improved much over the moon they've spent with the rustclaws, but slowly, rat was getting better at it. And the other cats seemed to understand rat enough, so rat didn't bother too much.

 

[RUSTED METAL's iconRUSTED METAL]

RUSTED METAL ──

rustclaws | cadet​

​

Ratfish, ever the eloquent speaker, gets their point across quite clearly. It's no surprise to Rust at all; the kitten has seemed to garner a heightened interest in trinkets and shiny things since they arrived here, and it was only a matter of time before they would've come to bother her about her array of treasures. Tilting her head to the side, she moves her tail to wrap delicately over her paws, indulging the young one in a look at the items - but a look is all they will get.

"Yes, they are pretty, aren't they?" She manages a smile, though it's more so an unsettling grin, the closest she'll probably ever get to sitting politely as she lets Ratfish drink it all in. "I've spent a lot of time finding all of it myself and bringing it here, which means all of it is mine. No touching, only looking. Got it?" Her tail thumps against the metal impatiently, though she admittedly does enjoy the way that Ratfish gawks at her collection, content in knowing that she has something desirable that belongs only to her.

give me a fight i can't resist

give me something to break with my fists

• ooc:
• "speaking" | thinking | action

 

[Ratfish]

RATFISH

.

Ratfish doesn't understand a great many things, but one thing it does is authority. The way some stand above others, expecting to be listened to and obeyed. Ratfish cannot imagine wanting that kind of power, but it is happy to follow it.

When Rust declares, with a conviction in her voice that says 'you better listen', that Ratfish can only observe and not touch, the young cat simply nods, obedient. It sits on its haunches, watching Rusted Metal sort through the trinkets, wondering how she had managed to collect so many - and when?

A particularly interesting artefact catches Ratfish's attention - a long metal rod with two thick and dull claws opposing each other. It looks heavy, like it would make a lot of noise were it to fall down from atop this throne and Ratfish catches itself wanting to experience such noise. "Where from?" it asks, pointing its tail towards the object, while making sure not to brush its fur against any of the other treasures. "It good." It states simply.

Perhaps Rust could show it where to get such treasures itself, to search and sort through all kinds of junk to discover and grow its own collection.