Open Chronicles a cat walks into a bar...

[Kassidy Quay]

Nothing could be done. Kassidy couldn’t believe it.

A cat. He was stuck like this. For the foreseeable future.

He wondered if the sheer horror he had felt translated over his feline features as one of the College Maesters has told him the verdict.

Oh Kassidy Quay. What a mess you have gotten yourself into.

They were surprised to see him, of course. Kassidy had learned that he’d studied at the College of Elbion for several years before the Mishap had happened, and that the Maesters had thought him missing or dead for weeks now. Nice to have at least some vague memories back at last. Fat lot of good they were now though.

Slumped on a curve in the merchant district of Elbion, he stared out into the street. A small, makeshift leather pouch sat at his throat, filled with as much coin as he could carry - a few docattos and several tolaro. The Maesters had told him that even like this, he could still pursue his transfiguration studies, but the thought turned him cold. What was the point now? He was a damn cat. A cat that could transfigure everything except himself. A cute, cuddly, ten pound cat with a comedically small pouch of coin and ridiculously large ears. Magic was no life for him now. There was no life for him now. No memories awaited in his head, no family awaited him, he had no friends to turn to.

What he did have though, was coin. And with coin, came the ability to drink.

How much cheaper was it to get this cat body drunk than his old six foot human self, he wondered.

Hmm. No time like the present to find out.

The sun was getting low in the sky, casting pink and purples over the atmosphere, and the roar of a nearby tavern wasn’t hard to find. It was a rickety building, seemingly held together by sheer force of will through wobbly cobbles and beams. A sign swung from the doorway, spindly letters painted on it. Of course.

The Fat Cat.

Well. This was clearly a sign. Literally. Some giant cosmic joke. Kassidy had pissed an entity off in a past life and he was paying for it now. Ignoring the drunkards outside eyeing him and accepting his fate, he slid in through the oak doors, and padded across the sticky floor to the bar. No one really seemed to notice until he’d jumped up onto a stool.

The balding bartender caught his green gaze, and smirked as he sauntered over. His elbows plopped on the bar as he leant down, tongue tutting between his teeth. “Want some milk pussy cat?” he simpered. Kassidy rolled his eyes. “Bit of fish?”

Kassidy glared at him. “Rum.” he stated, his voice ringing clearly, male and ticked off. The patrons sat beside him cast a glance. He coughed awkwardly, and added, “Thanks.”

The bartender blinked at him, before straightening up, and nodding to himself. Being this close to the College, he was most likely seasoned with this sort of thing. He turned to sort the drink. Kassidy groaned. This was his life now. For as long as his wretched spell lasted. Damn him, damn his skill. He needed something else to look forward to.

Just to spite him, his rum was plopped in front of him a moment later. In a saucer.

Ha ha.

Tonight was going to be a long one.

 

[Szesh]

Szesh stooped through the door. The ceiling was just high enough that he did not have to crouch, although his horns were dangerously close, and he carefully stepped around a light fixture. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust, pupils expanding invisibly within deep black orbs, but when they did he saw a black cat sitting at the bar.

Szesh was, to most people, monstrous. Tall, scaled, dragon-like, he did not have the luxury of blending quietly into the background. The upside of this was that people rarely bothered him, and his natural standoffish demeanor was fine with this.

In spite of this hard and spiny exterior, for reasons that neither he nor anyone else could truly explain, Szesh liked cats. He found them... pleasant. Small, soft, wholly independent. He would never dare confess that he found something "cute," but they did bring a touch of lightness to a life otherwise heavy with violence.

He took the seat next to the creature, sitting slowly as the barstool creaked but held his weight. The bartender, already having dealt with a talking cat, was thoroughly nonplussed by the draconian's arrival.

"What'll it be?" he asked, almost bored.

"Broth. Meaty." A new friend had introduced him to the idea of drinking broth during his travels in the tundra, and he had never lost his taste for it.

His eye strayed to the cat next to him. Was it drinking... rum? No... it couldn't be... but the smell was unmistakable. Without a second thought, he reached over and scratched the top of the cat's head with a single, large claw.

 

[Kassidy Quay]

Rum, Kassidy found, was an awful lot different on a cat’s palette than a human’s.

It was also, he realised, far more potent.

His tiny feline liver couldn’t seem to handle the liquor very well, and before he knew it he began to feel fuzzy and soft round the edges. Well. Softer. His exterior was already like a peach, he thought distantly as he lapped at his drink. The only way Kassidy could be more non threatening was if he promptly decided to take up knitting and recreational bonnet wearing.

There was a creak of metal as another patron slid onto the barstool next to him. Kassidy noticed the mass out of the corner of his green eyes; a big, scaley creature, imposing, clawed hands like spades. During his time at the College, Kassidy had seen many things, so the sight of the dragon-like man next to him didn’t cause him surprise. His little cat brain however? Was freaking out.

Big lizard big lizard big lizard big lizard scary lizard -

A single machete-like claw stretched out, and Kassidy’’s back legs tensed, ready to run. The draconian must’ve decided to eat him. This was it. His whole life would’ve flashed before his eyes if he could bloody well remember any of it.

Kassidy was about to leap and scarper - but the claw landed with a surprising gentleness on the top of his head, scratching him lightly. Black fur frizzed up along his spine, tail going rigid, and then suddenly, his throat vibrated.

Purring. He was purring now? This wasn’t even funny anymore. Claws and mice were one thing but purring?

The lowest of the lows. A cat sat in The Fat Cat being petted by a lizard and drinking rum out of a saucer. It was some terrible punch line and Kassidy was the only one who wasn’t in on the joke.

He looked at the giant out the corner of his eye. “You don’t strike me as the affectionate type.” he deadpannned. “You could’ve at least bought me a drink first.”

 

[Szesh]

Szesh's mouth curled as he heard the gentle purring. It could almost be called a smile, if his facial muscles could produce such an expression. It was a rare moment of tenderness, enjoying the connection with a small creature.

“You don’t strike me as the affectionate type.”

Szesh jumped back, standing up and knocking his barstool back across the floor. Silence overtook the tavern as the patrons stared at him, although none dared laugh. He blinked, glancing from the people to the cat. It could not have spoken. It must have been someone nearby that he had mistaken...

“You could’ve at least bought me a drink first.”

It had spoken. Szesh could not believe it. His stool gone, he bent over nearer the cat. "You speak," he said in a quiet rumble. He squinted at it. "How?" He did not notice the bartender delivering his steaming mug, thoroughly uninterested in the situation.

 

[blain the cat]

i look up at the sign not quite getting its meaning on the account that learning the two legs writing has been a challenge for me. i carefully walk into the bar avoiding sticky spots, licking my paws later would be most un enjoyable if i did not.

i hop unto the table and make a proud meow, usually i would use my telepathy but large crowds give me pause, its easier just to pretend your a regular cat. being born a cat with magic sounds cool but its quite a burden if you ask me, people dont take kindly to a tabby with telepathy.

the bar tender looked rather amused.

"what am i running a pet shop or something? what will it be?"

he says exasperated
i looked at him confused. he couldn't be talking to me? could he? no there's no way two legs don't talk to cats.

i glance at the other side of the bar and notice another cat drinking what appears to be two legs milk, no idea why he would drink that.this must be a weird kinda cat bar slash two leg hang out, i turn back to the bar keep and convey to him that i want milk and im going to join my fellow cat brother on the other side of the table, when i speak to people it doesnt quite come out as words but rather a sense of understanding, they understand what i mean to say without hearing some crazy voice in there head.

i weave in between glasses. the growns can be heard as people protect there two leg milks.

i get to my spot next to the second cat. most cats dont understand that they are cats so i didnt think to talk to him telepathically since cats speak to each other in body language rather than meows i figured it would know what i meant when i greeted it by flicking my tail and slowly blinking my eyes. the bartender places a bowel of milk down in front of me and i begin lapping it up as i listen to the conversations around me