The Grinch


koshka_icon.gif samara2_icon.gif

Scene Title The Grinch
Synopsis A walk, a Grinch, a snowball fight, and a surprise— it's an eventful morning
Date December 30, 2010

The Garden

The quiet stillness of the Garden yields nothing more than the creak of the hardwood floor, complaining loudly underneath the feet of its few occupants. While it's chilly outside, fresh air, particularly cool fresh air is allowed in through an open window just above the kitchen sink.

Samara had wanted some fresh air. Don't worry though, she isn't in the kitchen cooking though, just allowing some fresh air to enter the house. Instead, the dancer wannabe is practicing her pirouettes, spinning in circles again and again to redevelop her dancing feet. There's no music to practice to, and her clothes are far removed from her former prima ballerina self— yoga pants, and a black tank underneath a thick black zip-up hoodie that is, currently, unzipped.

She points her toes and extends her fingers into the air, lengthening her body and feeling the full length of her body from toes to fingertips. Her neck extends in the air.

Another pair of feet announce that someone's about. First crossing the second floor once and then twice before a creak tattles of someone at the stairway. Coming down the stairs in a thump-thump, thump-thump are sock covered feet owned by Koshka. With a little slide, she appears at the foot of the stairs in typical jeans and hoodie

Without pausing there, the teenager heads for the front door. Movement, though, not her own catches her attention. Koshka takes a moment to watch Sami, brows raising in question. That's not something you see every day. "Hi, Sam," she chirps, fleeing once more for the front door to claim shoes and jacket.

The sound of the steps and then the greeting has Sam dropping to her heels and, at seeing Koshka, padding off towards the door, traipsing after the younger girl. "Heeeey~" she nearly sings, each step staccato'd yet silent. She zips her hoodie, causing her cheeks to flush brighter, but c'est la vie when she moves towards the door.

"Sleep well?" she asks quietly as her hands and shoved into the hoodie pockets. With a sharp whistle she grins, "This is beautiful weather. Even if it's chilly, it's not windy which is such a relief." The grin grows and she glances at the shoes and jackets. "Where you heading to?"

Stomping into her shoes, Koshka looks up at Samara. "Slept good," she confirms with a grin. She takes a knee to tie her shoes, glancing up at Sami again. "Just going outside for a while. Walk around and stuff." Before breakfast, and because there's nothing else to do. "—D'you want to come with? I'll bring wood in when I come back."
[OOC] Koshka says, "Sorry! Got distracted by Toy Story XD"

Sam glances at the window and then back to her own coat which is slipped over her already large hoodie. Chances are she'll be overheated even outside. "Sure! I could use a little cool down after— " Her eyebrows arch while she glances into the kitchen. Her dancing. She needs to work those muscles. Once all decked out in her outside garb, she reaches for the doorknob and turns it, opening the door and stepping outside.

"Well a walk is great! A good way to clear the head and stuff~"

Standing again, Koshka grabs her jacket and scarf. The first is pulled on and zipped as she steps out after Sami, with the scarf following after she's pulled the door closed.

"Great way to work up an appetite," Koshka adds with a laugh. Not that she ever needs to work on that. Hands delve into her pockets for warmth as she grins up at Samara. "What were you doing in there?" Her question comes along with a step to a small footpath, something that's leading toward the woods at the rear of the house.

Sami doesn't need to work up an appetite either; she likes to eat, especially after going years without, the simple action does wonders for her. With a tight-lipped smile, the ground crunches underneath her steps. The smile turns a little lopsided as she literally jumps over a crack on the footpath. "Can't break my mother's back~" she beams.

The question, however, softens the smile, giving a nearly sad remnant on her lips, "Dancing. Well.. kind of. My muscles are completely out of use. They're tight and need strengthening and more flexibility." She hmmms quietly as she skips a few steps ahead, "I was going to audition at Juliard." With another hmmm she shrugs, "Hard to do when I no longer exist. I guess some dreams can't come true."

"But people see you now," Koshka points out. She takes an easy pace, something that can be maintained easily enough over the uneven ground. "You could use a different name and stuff. Or you could work on whatever and get super good all on your own." After all, someone had to come up with the theory of dancing and put it into practice.

The youth gives a little hop, turning herself to face Sami and walk backward. Blue eyes look up at the woman in an unspoken 'You should try anyway', a small grin still pulling at the corners of her mouth. "You could make up your own style and it would be epic."

With a little twirl just a little ahead of the path, Sami actually smiles, "It's true. People can see me now— but staying off the grid, it's not necessarily a bad thing." Her grins warms again with yet another twirl. "And maybe I could invent something! I do love dancing! There's something so wonderful about movement and expressing through it."

She slows to fall back into step with Koshka, "But I have to admit, when I dance I feel alive. Like everything slows, it makes sense, I make sense. Everything about it enables me to express myself, even when I can't come up with the words. Like, sometimes I get tongue-tied and there's nothing I can say, but I can dance about it. I can react to it physically even when my thoughts are well behind." She pauses and then looks thoughtfully at Koshka, "Anything you're passionate about?"

Turning again, Koshka smiles as she watches Samara twirl. Staying off the grid, under the radar, it's something she can agree with as a good thing. But is it really a reason to give up on your dreams? "You could come up with your own thing. And then I bet there's lots who'd listen to you and want to learn it because it'd be awesome."

Koshka's head drops a little, eyes scanning over the ground as it passes underfoot. She can understand, too, having a hard time expressing herself. Sometimes a thought just won't come to words. "I'm… passionate about… I don't know. There's things I want to do and things I feel like I really should do."

'Well, maybe one day that's what I'll do. But for now?" she smiles gently, "I've found a place I can belong. I like the Ferrymen, what they do is good. Lighthouse is all about learning to develop skills to help people and provide kids a family… I dunno if any of this makes any sense." Sami sighs, her breath escapes her lips in a thin veil of steam.

"And with the state of the world, I think art is more important, but art needs to be uninhibited." She shuffles one foot in front of the other and then back again. "What things do you want to do? Honestly, everyone has passions, whether they're towards other people, particular arts… food, gardening… everyone has them…"

"Ferry's been real good," Koshka agrees quietly. They'd helped her out, kept her when they could have turned her loose after sneaking her from the hospital. "They do lots of good things, and Lighthouse is something really good." For a moment, she flounders to elaborate, failing with a lack of experience beyond her limited own.

The teen takes a breath and looks skyward. "Those're all good things, gardening and art and stuff." But not really something that seems hold Koshka's heart. "I like… I don't know. Standing up for people who won't do it themselves. Or can't." It's more conviction than a passion. But that's close enough, right?

"That's awesome!" Sami commends brightly with a firm nod. "And it's important. There's a lot of people out there who can't help themselves. They're… stuck." With a sharp whistle, she glances at the path ahead and then back to Koshka.

"How is it being out here these days? Miss school? Other kids? I bet we could figure out some way to get you both— although school is likely of the home variety…" Her eyebrows escalate, "OR do you need like a project or something?"

Casting a sidelong look to Sami, Koshka lifts her shoulders a little. "Just.. something I always felt for. Fighting for people who were too afraid to speak up. —Just that kind of thing."

Looking up to the trees, Koshka gives a tiny nod. What kid would outright admit to missing school? "I was homeschooled before. But… Yeah, kinda miss it. Especially being out here with not much to do, but… I'm kinda getting use to being out here and isolated and stuff."

Well homeschooling isn't the best but, "Well, hopefully we can find a location and then you'd have classmates, help with the little ones. You know, it's like they don't have voices for themselves. You'll like them though! Although be careful of Paul— he thinks himself a ladies man— " he's one of the few Sami knows semi-well… mostly because he turned all ghost like her for a couple of weeks.

Sami gives a quick glance to one of the snow banks and motions for Koshka to follow her into it, "Come on! Let's make snow angels! Think of how awesome it will be if someone— " there is no one around "— were to find them! Or we could build a snowman… or something else…"

Oh, the trouble that could arise from Koshka being the voice for a bunch of little kids. The teenager grins in a very catty way. "Yeah, us kids're never heard," she replies, toned so she's imparting a life lesson. "Grown ups forget what it's like and refuse to hear what we have to say." Or think. Unless it's against the rules.

Koshka shows no hesitation, plowing into the snow after Sami. As she wades out off the small foottrail, gloves are withdrawn from her coat pockets and pulled onto her hands. "Sable sometimes comes out this way with Jupiter and Misty, we could make a whole village of snowpeople."

The romp in the snow is chorused by speels of giggles as Sami nods emphatically, tromping through the icy crystals. The snow bites fiercely against her hands as she begins making her first snowball of the year to grow into the beginnings of her first snow person. "Okay! SO! I think we should make like a family and a bunch of little houses and like a lane— but none of it should be to scale that way it's like ridiculously disproportioned like our snow people are secretly giants amid the houses and street! OR. They're like King Kongs about to take over our little snow village!"

Her hands clap together at the idea, not really because of the idea, but to keep the blood flowing to her fingertips— if she'd had foresight she would've brought gloves. "What do you think? Snow people? A village?" Her smile twists a little, "Maybe the Grinch!! Of course, that's saying my snow skills are good at all…"

"The Grinch!" Koshka laughs, truly loving the idea. She flops forward onto her hands and knees, arms spreading to push a large lump of snow forward and gather it together. "We could make him sitting and scowling," she states, face screwing up into a mocked scowl. "Like this."

Her lump of snow gathered, she begins patting it together. It'll form the lumpy rumpy side of the character. Koshka glances up at Sami while her hands pack together the snow. Her hands slow, long enough to pull off her gloves and toss them to the woman. Then, sleeves pulled over her own hands, she resumes patting.

The gloves are gratefully accepted as the auburn haired woman tugs them over her fingers as she goes back to her work. "I like the idea of a scowling Grinch! I'm sure it's the only way anyone would ever recognize him!" She adds some lumps to the large snowball to shape his body, complete with his angst-filled angry positioning.

"I hope Sable likes him!!! AND recognizes him." She hmmms quietly, "It's too bad we don't have like green food colouring." Her eyebrows arch expectantly as she forms another snowball, this one not so destined for the Grinch; instead, it's palm-sized and tossed (rather than actually thrown) towards Koshka.

Seriously intent on adding just the right amount of details, though she's a rather ameture artist when it comes to this sort of thing, Koshka carefully works some of the finer details into the scowling face. "Think we might have some back home," she asks. "Or maybe we can find some green markers and completely destroy them for their ink." A waste, but you'd sort of have green dye.

Sitting back on her heels, which opens her up to receive a snowball plopped onto her head, Koshka surveys the work. "I think—" Right then. While snow rests on top of her head in an exploded lump, the teenager looks over to Sami. Brows raise toward her hairline, but a grin threatens to take over her expression of surprise.

With a giggle at the successful hit, Sam does a little excited jump on the balls of her feet, complete with a soft landing. She reaches down again to create a new snowball, her smile challenging the teen to engage in, what is thus far, a rather one-sided snowball fight.

With another lopsided grin, she just holds onto the snowball in her hand, her grin growing as its allowed to melt slightly within her grasp, of course, now her attention turns to the Grinch for a few moments, focusing on the lack of green. "Yesssss— we could get green food colouring or markers or something if we go home— "

The challenge is met with Koshka simply brushing the snow from her head and feigning disinterest. She plays the card further by blowing on her hands and wriggling reddened fingers. She's not going to get involved in a snowball fight, no ma'am.

But when Sami turns to survey their Grinch, Koshka plows an arm through the snow, tossing up a small wave of white powder and wet. Okay, so it's not very effective, but it gives a chance for the teenager to make up a snowball of her own.

A sharp squeal escapes Samara's lips as the ice cold snow traces along her shoulder, spilling onto her cheek and catching her auburn coloured hair. She beams brightly as her free hand brushes the fan of snow crystals from her hair, shoulder and cheek. Her toothy grin tugs tighter to one side.

Her second snowball is tossed back at the teen as Sami hits the deck to grasp more snow and create more snowballs to be used an ammunition. She grasps another snowball to throw back towards Koshka followed by another and another… unfortunately with all of the creating and throwing there is little time for aiming. WHich means most of these snowballs are no where near Koshka, although they are tossed with considerable excitement and drive.

Two snowballs cross paths, one catching Koshka in the shoulder and the other flying toward Samara. The youth wheels from the hit, exaggeratedly, flinging wide the arm and shoulder that was struck. "I've been shot!" she proclaims, falling backward into the snow. The second snowball lands not too far from her, but subsequent ammo finds various bits to land upon.

Koshka isn't down for long, after a moment she's flinging another couple of packed rounds of white powder in Sami's general direction.

There's another high-pitched squeal as a new snowball catches her neck. As cold and goosebump-inducing as it is, Sami absolutely beams as one of her gloved hands traces over where it had hit her. She's hit again on her shoulder as she reaches for another ball of snow, down low to put her fingers to work along the icy powder into yet another ball, except, this time she's distracted, her eyes flitting to a little big of movement underneath some nearby brush.

She drops her snowball while her chin cants to the left and she murmurs, "Truce?" yet her eyes remain on that little bit of brush, and her eyebrows quirk together with obvious curiosity painted across her face as clear as day.

Koshka sits up, laughing and brushing snow off from her shoulders. She pulls her scarf up over her nose and cheeks, turtling her head down so her ears are covered as well. "Truce," she agrees, and pulls herself upright and onto her feet.

Watching Sami, the teen pulls her hands into her sleeves. "What is it," she calls, quiet but carrying.

The smile remains, even if the curiosity wins most of Sami's expression. She trudges against the snow as she leans forward more, her eyes narrowing into smaller slits. She kneels in the snow and tugs at one of the branches in the brush. "I… don't know…" Sami replies quietly.

"Come here… I think it's an animal or something— it might be stuck?" Not that they should necessarily touch it, but maybe they can move enough of the brush to free it?

Curious herself, Koshka gets down on her hands and knees to crawl forward for a better look. An animal out here? That's exciting. "Maybe a rat or something? Or a bird." She keeps her voice hushed as she scoots up close to the branches already pulled aside.

Careful not to knock more snow into the hollow under the brush, Koshka peers down into the hole. "It's… something fuzzy?" The teen sounds a little confused. And heedless of any risk there might be, she reaches a hand in to withdraw the critter that's gotten itself stuck.

"Be— " Sami begins, but it's too late and so her voice turns to a whisper as Koshka reaches under the brush to retrieve the tiny creature, "— careful." Sam's eyebrows furrow tighter while she releases a heavy sigh, if it bites Koshka that'll only spell bad news for the one among them intended to be the responsible adult… at least she's learning? Even if it is always in hindsight.

The small furry creature makes a cute little mew sound as Koshka reaches under the brush and grasps it. It's mostly white coat and pink nose shiver in the cold. How the kitten ended up here, of all places, is entirely unclear.

The concerned expression melts from the woman's face as she essentially melts at the sight of the small kitten. "Oh nooooo, poooor kitty…" her gaze moves to the surroundings, trying to catch sight of more cats.

Disregard for her well being is not one of Koshka's finer qualities, but hopefully one day she'll learn to not so easily put herself in danger.

"Kitty," the teenager squeaks, tucking the kitten up under her chin to share in the warmth of her scarf. One day she'll learn a note of caution. "How'd it get out here? I didn't notice any others in there." Koshka sits back on her heels, holding the shivery little fluff against her neck.

Blue eyes turn up to Sami in askance. Can we keep the kitty? But after just a couple of seconds she's scanning the ground for any sign of pawprints.

The affection Koshka yields the kitten actually makes Sami feel warmer even in the December cold. She slowly removes one of the gloves and tucks it in her pocket to pet the kitten under its chin. Catching the glance and the unuttered question, the former spectre cranes her neck to peek about for other paw prints. Painfully there's none. There's no easy meows or easily heard cats to complain.

"I.. I don't see any prints anywhere— " although it's possible the little bit of breeze managed to brush over the pawprints. With a small hmm, she ponders, "Maybe we should ask one of the a— " again with the adults. Her nose wrinkles a little as she peeks down the path, hazel eyes desperately seeking out the kitten. With a quiet sigh she hmmms, "We can't just leave him out here in the cold… I don't think he'll make it all on his own…"

The kitten purrs, head lifting to allow better access to his chin. "We can't just leave him out here," Koshka points out as she stands. She hasn't seen any other tracks that would indicate anything else out here. Some bird left prints in the crust of a snowdrift, but nothing of a proper animal. No other calls or movement about, save their own.

Koshka again looks to Samara, that same silent askance in her gaze. "I'll take care of him," she says, starting in with those age-old promises that come with gaining a pet. "No one else'll have to worry about it. I'll feed him and everything."

The silent askance is duly noted; Sami grew up with a younger sister, it's something she's at least mildly familiar with. Her grin grows as she reaches over and scratches underneath the kitten's chin, it's soft fur tickling her fingertips. With a quiet sigh she pulls her hand back and attempts to catch Koshka's gaze with her hazel eyes.

Her eyelashes lower some as she makes the eye contact and her finger waves pointedly at the words she uses, "You have to take care of him. Like have to. I don't want to have the kitten starving to death. This isn't a project that be easily dropped— " although it is a project and that's something, right? "There's lots of people out there who would love a little kitty— " Sam has no idea if this is true. "So, you need to take good care of him. And… yeah. He's like your responsibility. You wanted to be a voice for someone that didn't have one… but…"

Koshka is already nodding to the rules even as they're spelled out. Yes, yes. Her responsibility, she'll take care of the kitten. "I swear I'll do it. No problem." How much trouble could one little cat be? "He won't starve of anything."

The youth grins up at Sami, toothy and adding all the sugar she can to her nonverbal please and promise. With one hand she partially opens her jacket, the other maneuvering the kitten into the extra layers. "I'll take care of him. You'll see. He'll be fed and cleaned and everything."

With a deep breath, Sami nods her head. Good. Like Koshka, this particular answer is left unspoken, but it's written in her gaze anyways. Her lips press tightly together as she nods again.

Sam returns the glove to her hand as she glances back towards the house. "I think… maybe we should get kitty back— who knows how long he's been out here and how hungry he is. I think… we have some milk in the house. Or Tuna?" Cats eat that stuff right? "And while we're there we can look for green food colouring or something. Green makes the Grinch easily identifiable."

A glance is given back to the Kitten, as she nods her head back towards the house, already turning on her heel. "I suppose there's one more thing left to do. He needs a name…"

Clutching the kitten to her chest, Koshka hustles along after Sami. Once close enough, and careful of the little package of fuzz inside her coat, she reaches out to grab the woman into a hug. Little odd, coming from the youth who's usually so standoffish, but it's a definite thank you.

After and as she folls back into step, Koshka nods. "Green food coloring and tuna and a name. Pretty sure we have tuna, and the dogs have food as a last resort." Yes, she'd easily stoop to feeding a cat dog food in a pinch. "Green food coloring and a name might be harder to come up with." Her head ducks down, peering at the kitty hidden within her coat.

"Well there's always the old stand-by: Fluffy," Sami teases as she's hugged, reciprocating the squeeze herself with a warm grin that extends more than she intends. She's thankful for moments like these where she actually feels useful. "And green food colouring isn't as important as the others."

"We'll make sure we get him— or her some real food next time we get groceries." She quirks a small smile and links arms with Koshka as they walk, already pleased that she agreed to take the small kitten in; hopefully no one is allergic.

Koshka smiles up at Sami. "Fluffy's no name for a cat," she explains in all sorts of seriousness. "That's what you name yappy little dogs like… Tibetan Spaniels and …dachshunds. No, I'll find a good name. The best name." The teen falls silent to think about it, walking arm in arm with Samara.

Sam's lips twist into a crooked smile as she hrms, "How aboooout— " a mischievous grin spreads over her lips, "Tahir? Or Adisa?" The smile turns to a smirk as she shakes her head having just suggested her brother and sister's names for the cat. "Or…" she taps her chin with her free hand, "Maybe. I like that as a name…"

"Tahir or Adisa?" Koshka looks up at Samara then back down to the kitten. They sound nifty enough, and both are good possibilities. Still.. "What about… Bob? Evil King Bob."

"Bob," Samara repeats as she nods firmly. "Bob. Bob," she tries the name on a few times, testing it out. "Evil King Bob," she repeats the full name this time as she regards the kitten. She stares at the kitten awhile longer, her grin producing two deep dimples in her cheeks. Her hands shove into her pockets as she tugs Koshka a little closer. "Yessss. I like it." The declaration is made.

The kitty has a name.

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