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.

 

[RUSTED METAL's iconRUSTED METAL]

RUSTED METAL ──

rustclaws | cadet​

​

While Ratfish does inquire about Rust's collection, they do at least heed her instruction to stay put and not touch anything, which causes Rust to allow her shoulders to relax just the slightest bit. She cranes her neck to glance at the wrench, leaning upright against some other piled-up junk. "Ya like the wrench? Stuff like that's pretty easy to find around here. If ya want one, you could probably fetch it yourself. Somewhere over, eh..." Rust scans the area, trying to pinpoint the place she's looking for - "There-ish. Not just wrenches, but lotsa nuts and bolts over there too. Most of 'em are really rusted out, but if ya dig you could find a couple good ones." A large paw motions in the direction they speak of as they explain, and they cast another glance at the kitten with a flick of their ear. Hm... it's quiet enough, and obedient, too. Maybe if I start now, I could raise it to be a peon of sorts... Of course, a 'peon' is about the closest thing Rust would consider a friend, as many social customs are lost on her. She views the world only in terms of the weak and the powerful, with no such thing as 'equals'. And if Rust is to stay on top in such a world, she of course must have others who are loyal to her and can do her bidding.

"Maybe I could show ya how to search properly," she offers to Ratfish, knowing it won't refuse. She grins as she rises to her paws, though it's mostly to herself - there were many who'd been loyal to her in the days of the twoleg cages, and it'll be nice to have a new companion that will look up to her, even if it's not in the same brutal manner as before. The Rustclaws don't seem privy on the same types of customs that Rust is familiar with, so they'll play nice if that's what grants them security in these parts.

give me a fight i can't resist

give me something to break with my fists

• ooc:
• "speaking" | thinking | action

 

[Ratfish]

RATFISH

.

Ratfish follows Rust's gaze as she pinpoints the general location of the desired search. "Wrench....there?" rat tests out the new word, grinding against its teeth. A good sound if the cat says so itself. "I search." It declares, nodding to itself. Ratfish is good at scavenging, having spent most of its life in search of food - though Tick-Tock has always been the better one at finding food, Ratfish has rather excelled at getting itself stuck or lost, or at finding 'useless junk'. But it seems the junk is not so useless here with the Rustclaws.

Ratfish is too enamored by the idea of finding its own treasures to notice Rust's intense gaze scanning them, figuring out what to do with them. Ratfish is just happy to be there and learn. Suddenly its ears perk up at Rust's suggestion, Rust's offer to help. How wonderful would that be? To have a set of paws helping and teaching them, showing it the best spots for trinkets. "Yes...-" it smiles through its overgrown fangs, before remembering the cusstoms its been taught. "Yes... please."

 

[RUSTED METAL's iconRUSTED METAL]

RUSTED METAL ──

rustclaws | cadet​

​

Just as she'd planned, and the kitten had even thought to say please. Rusted Metal sweeps her plumed tail in an invitation to follow, each step toward their destination smugger than the last.
"I've found most o' my scraps right around here. Lotsa junk that the twolegs left behind in here - so careless, always tossing their most useful, loyal tools aside..." Her mangled ear twitches as her face morphs into some unrecognizable emotion for a moment before beginning to sort through the mess for Ratfish to see. "If ya dig through here long enough, you're bound to find somethin'. Enjoy, kid. I'll prolly stick around an' see if I can find somethin' myself... the collection's never too big, I'm sure you'd agree with a sentiment like that."

It's not often that Rust feels relaxed in the company of another, but Ratfish has been quiet and not too imposing, so she lingers nearby while she fishes through the pile to see if anything catches her eye - though she notably flicks her gaze over to the smaller cat every so often, just to make sure it hasn't strayed too close.
Within the mass of rusted-out scraps and rotted junk, there is a soft glint, something that sparkles when the sunlight hits it just right. Rust reaches further in, their head disappearing into the hole they've dug as they fish it out with large, yellowed claws.
"Ahh. Here we go." She sets the object in front of her, examining it closely with her good eye; it's an odd contraption, with two arms wrapped in a frayed protective layer that meet in the form of two clashing fangs. When Rust tries pushing the arms apart, the fangs follow suit, ready to crunch anything placed between them... "Heh, cool. I bet twolegs used this to mimic how we bite into things. Still looks pretty sharp, too." Proudly, they push it into view for Ratfish to see. "See, kid? There's lotsa cool stuff here if ya know where to look. I'm an expert on this stuff, I would know."

give me a fight i can't resist

give me something to break with my fists

• ooc:
• "speaking" | thinking | action

 

[Ratfish]

RATFISH

.

Ratfish follows the bigger cat obediently, only looking around for any kind of loose trinkets. Of course there's none, for if there was, Rust would have pointed it out. The older cat shows Ratfish an area to sort through, however, and Ratfish doesn't waste a second before starting.

The clanging of the useless metal around him satisfies him, but it's nothing the cat can take with him. Too big or inconvenient to carry back and store somewhere. Instead, he tries to sort through the smaller bits, trying to find the perfect one.

While it sorts, Rust manages to find something, something very interesting. "Like fangs." it agrees, fascinated by the item. It likes the fact that the object moves, with precise calculated movements. Nothing random, but controlled and predictable. Not that Ratfish doesn't like chaos, they absolutely love it, which is why they're so satisfied with the Rustclaws' territory, but the more complex items are too much for their mind to comprehend.

Out of the pile of discarded junk Rust has barely glossed over, sticks something out. A sort of box with a curved pipe out of it, an intricate opening in the center of the box. Too narrow for Ratfish to stick its claws inside, though someone with thinner ones might. The strangely heavy metal pipe is attached by one side to the box and rotates when pushed. "This." Ratfish declares. "Want this." It doesn't even wait for Rust's approval before tumbling to the ground, their new trinket between their paws and teeth, already being subjected to Ratfish's gnaws. It was perfect.