Hidden 5 yrs ago 5 yrs ago
Zeroth Post
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a ѕмall, ѕleepy тown



In a world not too different from our own, there is a small, sleepy town. There is work, there is school, but life goes slow in this small, sleepy town. Friendly residents, leisurely travellers, everyone here takes their sweet time getting through the day. Why hurry? In this small, sleepy town, there's no rush.

Even when strange things happen.

Of course, there are no strange things in this small, sleepy town. If there were any, they'd be gladly welcome here. Don't worry your pretty head about it. There is nothing to worry about in this small, sleepy town. And speaking of welcomes...

This is a small, sleepy town known as Squarespace. Don't mind the winged black cat in the sky. Do remember to responsibly dispose all chewing gum wrappers. (No, really. We are a small, sleepy town, but we will find any and all irresponsible gum chewers and educate them by demonstrating proper disposal techniques.) Don't alarm our residents if you spot anything strange. Remember, strange things are welcome here.

Most importantly, do enjoy your stay.

*
Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by Stanifly
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Stanifly buzz

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It's a bird! It's a plane! It's a... what?

Cold. The small black cat in the sky shivered, then sneezed, the action throwing him off for two heart-stopping seconds. Then he righted himself, every flap of his wings sending another bite of ice through him.

He dived down between two weird big things, touched down on the dirt, then shook himself. Water was nice, but being covered with it in the cold definitely was not. In the darkness of the narrow space he was in - which smelled of earth, some other cat's pee, and general mustiness - he sat, enjoying the quiet. It was well-deserved, considering what had transpired just moments before, but! This space was warmer than the sky had been and there was no one to disturb him here, so he was content to sit, and stay, and soak up what little respite he could get.

After 10 minutes of alternating between laying down and cleaning off his damp fur, however, the cat decided that this warm space was still not a familiar space. Unfamiliar meant unknown and unknown meant different and different meant...

He got up and stretched, his feathers drooping as his wings flared out. Wandering to the mouth of the warm space, he started sniffing the tall, cornered things walling him in.

Outside was strange. A black, long strip in the middle of the ground, perpendicular to him, and it smelt strongly of... something. He didn't know what. There were more big things in a neat row beyond the strip, each a uniform shape with triangle tops. Yet, despite their bland similarities, each big thing seemed to have their differences. Small things that made each of them unique.

Like the smells. From the big thing on his right - and indeed he had discerned that he was between the same big things as the ones across the strip - the scents were stale, telling him that no one had been there in a while. But the one on the left had fresh scents wafting towards him - food! He wasn't hungry, but the smell had his senses tingling anyway. Meat, something sweet, and something he couldn't identify but still smelt like food. Despite it all, he stayed where he was, tail twitching irritably. These tantalising scents weren't enough to push away the same familiar scent that lingered in all the big things, the strip, and the space he was in: humans.

He was in predator territory. Now what?




Ron

'Typical. Not a snowflake in sight and the weather still manages to freeze us half to death.'

Ron was a man of average looks, with a scruffy beard, light brown hair that parted nicely down the middle, and a sandstone frontier jacket. He was also a man who itched for a cigarette. Instead, he kept his hands on the table, fiddling with the corner of his folded newspaper. Sure, he was on the outdoor patio of the Ink Cafe, but they were strict about their no-smoking policy. Besides, he hated disappointing Karen.

'Here's your coffee.' Speak of the devil. He smiled back at Karen, a lovely lady in her mid-twenties, as she set down his mug, steam lazily rising above it. As always, she looked positively charming, even in the cafe's uniform purple dress. Especially in the cafe's uniform purple dress. It bore more resemblance to a coat now, though - an adjustment for the colder weather.

'Thanks, Karen,' he said, reaching to shift the mug closer to himself. Then, just as she made to turn away, he blurted out, 'You... growing your hair out?'

She turned to face him fully, raising an eyebrow. Then she jerked her head to the side, reaching up to tentatively card her fingers through her ponytail. It was short, its end barely brushing her shoulder, but it was longer than the auburn bobcut it had been before.

'It's not bad, is it?' she said. A little crease of worry appeared between her brows and she shifted on her feet.

'No, no!' said Ron, 'It's, uh, it's just new, is all. It looks fine.' At her uncertain expression, he continued, 'Really! It's a nice change.'

'Well... if you say so.' Her gaze drifted downwards to the table and something must have caught her attention because she perked up then, her smile lighting up her face and in turn, Ron's short life.

'Cute!'

'Yeah, you are,' said Ron, amused.

Her cheeks reddened. 'No! I-I mean, thank you!' She shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment as if to clear her thoughts. When she opened her eyes, her gaze was resolutely pinned to the newspaper on the table as she tapped on it. 'I meant the newspaper, Ron.'

Still grinning, he propped up the newspaper. The headline screamed back at him, 'WINGED BLACK CAT SPOTTED IN THE SKY'. A picture of a smudged black dot against the sky's pale backdrop accompanied the words, but there was only the vaguest outline of what could possibly be wings extended on either side of the small figure. He glanced at the article below, skimming over the sentences.

'This morning it says.' News always did travel fast in Squarespace. He looked back up at Karen. 'You think it's real? Picture doesn't exactly show a cat. Could be a bird for all we know.'

'Ron, this is the news, not sensationalised trash like Everyday. Besides, if it were real, it'd be cute to think about, wouldn't it?' The distant jingle of bells, signifying a patron's entrance, caught her attention and she turned on her heel, flashing him a quick apologetic smile. 'Gotta go! Have a nice day, you.'

He shook his head at the exchange, smiling to himself. Lifting his coffee mug to his lips, he took a long moment to savour his liquid nirvana. Just another thing he loved about Ink Cafe. Good, free coffee if he bought a newspaper from them. That was basically one-third the usual price. He'd asked Karen once if it impacted the cafe badly - it had to, it was in no way a sound business practice - but she'd only shaken her head and pressed a finger to her lips. His heart throbbed at the thought of her.

Still...

'A flying cat,' he muttered, 'Well, I'll be.'


*

And so the winter season in Squarespace begins.
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Hidden 5 yrs ago 5 yrs ago Post by Hokum
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Hokum The man in the moon

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𝓑𝓾𝓽𝓽𝓸𝓷𝓼


Dead.

Probably dead. She may have been an old bird, but not quite at the nappy stage yet.

But one should always make sure.

Avoiding the old woman’s crotch like the plague, Buttons stretched up to pat his paws over her wrinkly cheeks. Cold. Clammy, and even more than usual. He moved his nose in towards hers, not sensing any breathing before her head flopped to the side and knocked with a dull thud against the window.

Cold skin, lack of breath, incontinence, and uncontrollable rolling of the head in a moving vehicle.

Definitely dead.

Taking leave of her lap, he sat on the seat beside her like nothing was wrong, looking around in a casual cat manner. Fortunately, this bus wasn’t crowded, not many people eager to visit Squarespace, apparently, but that was all well and good. Had there been more people on board this unoccupied seat may not have been so empty, but less passengers also meant less likelihood of anyone noticing the old, dead lady slumping about in the second last row - and Buttons definitely didn’t want that. Who needs all that commotion and fussing over a person that doesn’t care anymore anyway? Besides, he really didn’t feel like being manhandled right now. A cat needs its space. Sure, suffering a little human touch for the sake of obtaining a delicious feed was normally worth it, but being coddled and squeezed and groped by way too many human hands, just because some old lady died, was another thing altogether.

Death… how monotonously annoying.

Nope, he’d sit right here, in this perfectly pee-and-poop-free seat until the bus arrives at its destination. Okay, he was feeling a little bit concerned. After all, the woman did soil her pants, and it might not take long for one of these passengers to notice this unrelenting stench of old people faecal matter.

Ignoring the insatiable urge to coil down and lick his ass, he remained in a seated position, expression flat as normal and turning his eyes out the window, just waiting for this journey to end. The sooner the better, of course, this smell was going to put him off the thought of food for at least another hour.

For the love of tuna soup, please hurry up and arrive already!

One eyelid raised a notch when the Welcome sign to Squarespace floated by the window. Looks like he was having a stoke of luck, this journey was certainly close to an end, and never a moment too soon. But you know, despite the stench and the dread of possibly having the old bird give her position away, he was feeling pretty good about all this. He’d been hanging around old Mariam for far too long, and it was always great to live free and easy on your own now and then. No one to feign affection for, no one to whine at for an extra little scratch above the tail, no more having to put up with the blaring volume of infomercials at odd hours of the morning in an apartment that smells like old eggs. Yep, he could roam around and live by his own wits for a while, time to stop and smell the roses on his continued and lengthy search for Bob.

Still, I really will miss her fried chicken wings. No one cooks chicken quite like she did.




𝓙𝓪𝓲𝓶𝓲𝓮


Jaimie had no reason to stay in this one-horse town anymore. The only reason she’d come here in the first was to hook up with Vernon, but interest in that romance died fast. As usual. If it wasn’t for that annoying tattoo of his ex’s name stamped on his left butt cheek, the whole affair may have lasted a little longer. Since the break-up, if you even want to call it that, she’d rented a granny flat while working as a checkout chick in the local convenience store, saving up the money to move on. That mission had been accomplished now, and she was soooo looking forward to indulging in the always jumping and banging city life again.

With warm coffee cup braced in both hands, though still shivering in her comfort-sacrificing, black mini skirt, knee length leather boots and skimpy hot-pink jacket, Bob cut bleach-blond hair pulsating in the morning breeze, all she had to do was wait for the next bus out of town. Despite the cold and the unpractical clothes she was wearing, she was masochistic enough to have chose the table outside of the bus station canteen room. Sure, it would have been warmer to wait inside, but that would have also meant having to put up with humouring the conversation with Michael, the pimply faced teen serving at the counter. Just another stalker she had managed to obtain during her stay. He really wasn’t happy to see her leaving, and she really wasn’t in the mood to counselling a breaking heart.

So many lonely, sappy, clingy men out there. How even was it that women were the ones to get tagged as the more emotional gender?

She didn’t have to put up with the cold for too long, she could have just used the extra sweater she had tucked away in her carry-on bag, but fortunately she didn’t have to. The bus was right on time, the warm bus aircon awaited her. Really though, a bus perfectly on time in a town like this was no surprise. It was actually kind of eerie just how well things normally turned out here.

Figures

She did have a little more waiting to do, at least time enough to finish her coffee while the bus driver went off to freshen up before the next journey. But, as life had a way of throwing its surprises, her reasons for leaving town were throw into question when a black-and-white tuxedo cat was the first to step off the bus. When the doors clambered open, the cute little thing seemed to be in quite the hurry – pouncing from the platform right over the steps and onto the sidewalk where it paused, just long enough to regard Jaimie with a peculiar raise of one brow, and say; “Hey there, hot stuff! Try and keep those legs together, will ya? – and enjoy the smell!”

Yes.

It spoke.

She gasped. Mouth and eyes wide with shock. The coffee slipping from her grip, smashing on the stone pavers between her feet as she watched the black-and-white beauty dart off up the street towards the center of town.
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