Namor and Cal - Backdated
May. 18th, 2018 07:59 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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ax_mainCal brings an unexpected long-term guest to his room. Thankfully, puppy charm also works on Atlanteans.
Once Cal heard back from Pike that Clint's puppy would be all right, he finally stopped wearing a groove in the floor in front of the infirmary (with the odd break outside), and headed back up to his room. He kept the puppy with him as he Googled the hell out of caring for a pup. As she seemed incredibly curious about this new place, rather than afraid in any way, he had to get her back to him via portal a couple of times. (Good thing she didn't seem to be phased by them so much, not when it landed her back in Cal's lap, anyway.)
And then was time for as much spontaneous preparation as Cal could handle. By the time his roommate came home, he'd pilfered a wicker basket from one of the mostly unused rooms on the last floor, piled a couple of X-stamped towels in it, and decided that that would be her bed. He'd also moved both of their small trash cans into their respective closets, so she wouldn't knock them over and go sniffling into things she shouldn't, and started taping electrical cords to the wall in order to minimize her ability to gnaw on them. There was also a bowl of water by her bed. Cal had taken her outside a few more times, congratulating her with strips of bacon when she'd done her business, and he was currently on his bed, with her in his lap, napping like an exhausted tiny animal, as he browsed online shops for dog food, dog toys, and whatever else was recommended for puppies.
It was a good thing Cal had only used his allowance for basic clothing, and nothing else, but still, he wasn't exactly Croesus. He was going to have to pare down his basket before ordering any of that stuff.
Namor entered, dressed this time in a plain white teeshirt that was slightly damp, and a pair of sleek swim trunks that were obviously not entirely dried. When he took in the room, he didn't immediately notice the differences. "Good afternoon," Namor said, in greeting, simply because he couldn't bring himself to give a simple, slangier greeting. He had some of his mail in his hand, and then he looked for his trashcan. Which was not where it had been. His brow furrowed, and he glanced to where Cal's had been. Gone as well. Given the unlikelihood of a trash can thief, he figured they had been moved.
And then his eyes came to rest on the basket, and then he glanced to Cal, who had ... a small animal in his lap.
"You seem to have acquired an animal," Namor observed.
"Hey," Cal replied, sounding oddly self-conscious, especially since he was whispering in order not to wake up the puppy. He curled a hand on her back, instinctively protective. "Yeah. She sort of... followed me here. Do you -" Fuck, what was he gonna do if Namor put his foot down? Cal didn't expect the dude to suddenly develop a soul and be susceptible to the charm of puppies. "Do you mind?"
Namor wasn't entirely sure what that remark was in regards to, so he simply lowered his voice, talking as Cal had. "If you are asking if I mind about the animal," he began, covering his bases, "I do not know. We do not keep pets in Atlantis."
That wasn't a fuck no, at least. Cal stroked his fingers slightly on the pup's fur, careful not to disturb her. It wasn't a fine, yes, she's fine, either.
"I'll - I'll train her, she won't be a bother," he added. He couldn't remember the last time he'd let himself want something and tried to convince someone to let him have it. The words felt odd in his mouth, the emotions ill-fitting in his chest. "You won't have to do a thing."
He raised an eyebrow. Training was apparently a thing it needed? He imagined it wasn't particularly useful in a fight, which meant the training was likely of a different sort, but he had no idea. So far, the animal seemed inoffensive. Granted, it also seemed to be asleep. "How large will this animal get, eventually? It seems to be some sort of juvenile." It just seemed... well, not... grown, entirely.
"Yeah," Cal agreed, features softening as he looked down at her. "She's a puppy." He looked back up at Namor. "That's a baby dog. She's a golden retriever. They get about..." He carefully pulled his hand back from her, to hold both his hands apart, about the size of an adult retriever, by his reckoning. "This big?"
"Hm," Namor said, putting a hand to his chin, considering it. His roommate was a rescue himself, and considering that this animal had previously been lost as well... It would be cruel to separate the two. "In the interest of learning more of surfacer customs, I suppose the animal being here is acceptable." It was apparently a female.
Oh, fuck that guy, and the way he kept thinking of them all as case studies, or whatever the fuck. It kept rubbing Cal the wrong way, after being studied, poked, prodded, and experimented on for a year. But right now, when it meant he got to keep the puppy, he just looked back down at her as he laid his hand back on her, hiding his features as he composed himself. "Okay." You're not going anywhere, honey, he thought at her - without telepathy, so he wouldn't risk waking her up with foreign thoughts she could not understand anyway.
"Does this..." He needed to stop, it seemed, referring to it as an animal, as an 'it' of sorts. "She," he corrected himself, "have a name?" It would help to know how to address it--her, he reminded himself again.
"I guess I should find you one, huh," Cal said, more to the sleeping animal than to Namor. He shook his head, and looked back at his roommate. "Not yet."
So talking to the animal was apparently something that was done. He knew it couldn't talk back, but perhaps there was something to be gained from it. He would have to try at some point. "Are you open to suggestions? Perhaps an Atlantean name would suit i--her?" Damn it, he almost said 'it.'
"Yeah, I don't think so," Cal replied with a frown. "You get your own dog, you can name them something Atlantean."
Namor crossed his arms. That seemed a bit of a snub to him, but he was willing to ignore it. "I've enough distractions of my own. If there is anything I can do to assist your ... endeavor," Namor said, shrugging, "I will offer what assistance I can."
Cal wasn't sure how much to trust that, but the offer itself surprised him, all the same. He didn't let that surprise show on his face, but he was silent for a couple of seconds before nodding. "Thanks."
"You're quite welcome," Namor said, settling down at his desk. "Ah, and... the trashcans, I presume they are still around?" he asked.
"Oh, yeah, sorry," Cal said with a wince. "They're in our closets. I didn't want her knocking them over and playing with the trash." Or eating anything she shouldn't.
"Ah. Very good," Namor said, nodding. "And quite considerate." And responsible, considering. "The forethought is much appreciated. I have no objection to continuing keeping them there."
"Cool," Cal nodded. He was distracted by the puppy stretching and yawning in his arms. "Hey, baby," he told her softly, stroking a hand over her back. "That was a nice nap."
Namor had more or less lost interest in what was being said, so he started going through more catalogs, bored. He had already finished his homework, diligently as always.
As the puppy woke up more fully, she licked at Cal's fingers, let him pet her a little, then got up and wandered to the edge of the bed, clearly afraid to jump, but still considering it. "You wanna get down?" Cal asked, even as he reached over and set her down on the floor. "There you go, darling."
She padded around the room, circling around Namor's feet and eventually getting close enough to give his ankle wings a curious sniff.
Namor more or less ignored the words of his roommate, moving from a catalog of menswear to a Time magazine, when he felt his ankle wing twitch involuntarily. When he felt something brush the feathers on it, he looked down, arching an eyebrow. "May I assist you?" he asked the animal, only slightly peeved but also somewhat enchanted with the animal's curiosity regarding his wing.
Cal had shifted to the edge of his bed, putting his socked feet down on the floor. Just in case Namor behaved like an asshole and he had to rescue the pup. He watched with amusement as she stepped back in alarm when the wing fluttered, then padded closed again and, very gingerly, raised a tiny paw to give it a tap.
Namor couldn't help but snort slightly as his wing flinched from the tap; someone as durable and strong as he was barely even so much as felt it. "Yes, I have a wing there," Namor confirmed for the small animal. "I suppose that is fascinating to you." He glanced up to Cal. "Am I permitted to pick her up?" he asked. After all, this animal was not only Cal's, but it was... well, it was an animal, and one with which he was unfamiliar. He was curious, he had to admit.
Cal wasn't sure she even realized that having a wing there was odd, at her age, but she was being adorable with it. She yipped at the wing, then tapped it again, clearly thinking it a game now. Cal looked up at Namor at his question, fond expression growing a little guarded. "If you're gonna be careful with her."
"Of course," he said. Though he was wondering now if she just wanted to play with his ankle wings. "Is this now a game? Have we invented a game?" Namor asked the small animal, his wing fluttering just a little of its own accord. "That isn't the only one I have, you know,' he added.
But for her part, the puppy seemed happy to play with this one, for now. After a few more paw taps, she tried to tackle it, jumping a little in the air to try and do it.
Namor's brow arched at the attempted assault, and he moved his foot forward, the wing darting out of the way. "A touch slow, I think," he remarked, smirking only a little. Okay, he could see why surfacers liked these animals.
Whoa there, that almost sounded like appreciation in Namor's voice. Cal's eyebrows lifted slightly, and he smiled as he watched the pup chasing after the wing. Puppies really were magical.
Namor came in from behind with his hand, scooping up the pup rather effortlessly, but with surprising grace and gentleness. "It seems that juvenile fascinations triumph across all species," Namor mused as much to the puppy as to himself, bringing the pup close to his face, looking closely at her.
The pup strained towards Namor, sniffing him curiously, then licked his nose.
He recoiled slightly, out of the pup's reach, and blinked at it. "I can only assume that is some sort of show of affection," Namor said. "I hope that you do not expect me to reciprocate," he added to the pup, before setting her back down. If she wanted to play with his wings more, he supposed he could deign to do so. It wasn't like he had much else to do.
Once Cal heard back from Pike that Clint's puppy would be all right, he finally stopped wearing a groove in the floor in front of the infirmary (with the odd break outside), and headed back up to his room. He kept the puppy with him as he Googled the hell out of caring for a pup. As she seemed incredibly curious about this new place, rather than afraid in any way, he had to get her back to him via portal a couple of times. (Good thing she didn't seem to be phased by them so much, not when it landed her back in Cal's lap, anyway.)
And then was time for as much spontaneous preparation as Cal could handle. By the time his roommate came home, he'd pilfered a wicker basket from one of the mostly unused rooms on the last floor, piled a couple of X-stamped towels in it, and decided that that would be her bed. He'd also moved both of their small trash cans into their respective closets, so she wouldn't knock them over and go sniffling into things she shouldn't, and started taping electrical cords to the wall in order to minimize her ability to gnaw on them. There was also a bowl of water by her bed. Cal had taken her outside a few more times, congratulating her with strips of bacon when she'd done her business, and he was currently on his bed, with her in his lap, napping like an exhausted tiny animal, as he browsed online shops for dog food, dog toys, and whatever else was recommended for puppies.
It was a good thing Cal had only used his allowance for basic clothing, and nothing else, but still, he wasn't exactly Croesus. He was going to have to pare down his basket before ordering any of that stuff.
Namor entered, dressed this time in a plain white teeshirt that was slightly damp, and a pair of sleek swim trunks that were obviously not entirely dried. When he took in the room, he didn't immediately notice the differences. "Good afternoon," Namor said, in greeting, simply because he couldn't bring himself to give a simple, slangier greeting. He had some of his mail in his hand, and then he looked for his trashcan. Which was not where it had been. His brow furrowed, and he glanced to where Cal's had been. Gone as well. Given the unlikelihood of a trash can thief, he figured they had been moved.
And then his eyes came to rest on the basket, and then he glanced to Cal, who had ... a small animal in his lap.
"You seem to have acquired an animal," Namor observed.
"Hey," Cal replied, sounding oddly self-conscious, especially since he was whispering in order not to wake up the puppy. He curled a hand on her back, instinctively protective. "Yeah. She sort of... followed me here. Do you -" Fuck, what was he gonna do if Namor put his foot down? Cal didn't expect the dude to suddenly develop a soul and be susceptible to the charm of puppies. "Do you mind?"
Namor wasn't entirely sure what that remark was in regards to, so he simply lowered his voice, talking as Cal had. "If you are asking if I mind about the animal," he began, covering his bases, "I do not know. We do not keep pets in Atlantis."
That wasn't a fuck no, at least. Cal stroked his fingers slightly on the pup's fur, careful not to disturb her. It wasn't a fine, yes, she's fine, either.
"I'll - I'll train her, she won't be a bother," he added. He couldn't remember the last time he'd let himself want something and tried to convince someone to let him have it. The words felt odd in his mouth, the emotions ill-fitting in his chest. "You won't have to do a thing."
He raised an eyebrow. Training was apparently a thing it needed? He imagined it wasn't particularly useful in a fight, which meant the training was likely of a different sort, but he had no idea. So far, the animal seemed inoffensive. Granted, it also seemed to be asleep. "How large will this animal get, eventually? It seems to be some sort of juvenile." It just seemed... well, not... grown, entirely.
"Yeah," Cal agreed, features softening as he looked down at her. "She's a puppy." He looked back up at Namor. "That's a baby dog. She's a golden retriever. They get about..." He carefully pulled his hand back from her, to hold both his hands apart, about the size of an adult retriever, by his reckoning. "This big?"
"Hm," Namor said, putting a hand to his chin, considering it. His roommate was a rescue himself, and considering that this animal had previously been lost as well... It would be cruel to separate the two. "In the interest of learning more of surfacer customs, I suppose the animal being here is acceptable." It was apparently a female.
Oh, fuck that guy, and the way he kept thinking of them all as case studies, or whatever the fuck. It kept rubbing Cal the wrong way, after being studied, poked, prodded, and experimented on for a year. But right now, when it meant he got to keep the puppy, he just looked back down at her as he laid his hand back on her, hiding his features as he composed himself. "Okay." You're not going anywhere, honey, he thought at her - without telepathy, so he wouldn't risk waking her up with foreign thoughts she could not understand anyway.
"Does this..." He needed to stop, it seemed, referring to it as an animal, as an 'it' of sorts. "She," he corrected himself, "have a name?" It would help to know how to address it--her, he reminded himself again.
"I guess I should find you one, huh," Cal said, more to the sleeping animal than to Namor. He shook his head, and looked back at his roommate. "Not yet."
So talking to the animal was apparently something that was done. He knew it couldn't talk back, but perhaps there was something to be gained from it. He would have to try at some point. "Are you open to suggestions? Perhaps an Atlantean name would suit i--her?" Damn it, he almost said 'it.'
"Yeah, I don't think so," Cal replied with a frown. "You get your own dog, you can name them something Atlantean."
Namor crossed his arms. That seemed a bit of a snub to him, but he was willing to ignore it. "I've enough distractions of my own. If there is anything I can do to assist your ... endeavor," Namor said, shrugging, "I will offer what assistance I can."
Cal wasn't sure how much to trust that, but the offer itself surprised him, all the same. He didn't let that surprise show on his face, but he was silent for a couple of seconds before nodding. "Thanks."
"You're quite welcome," Namor said, settling down at his desk. "Ah, and... the trashcans, I presume they are still around?" he asked.
"Oh, yeah, sorry," Cal said with a wince. "They're in our closets. I didn't want her knocking them over and playing with the trash." Or eating anything she shouldn't.
"Ah. Very good," Namor said, nodding. "And quite considerate." And responsible, considering. "The forethought is much appreciated. I have no objection to continuing keeping them there."
"Cool," Cal nodded. He was distracted by the puppy stretching and yawning in his arms. "Hey, baby," he told her softly, stroking a hand over her back. "That was a nice nap."
Namor had more or less lost interest in what was being said, so he started going through more catalogs, bored. He had already finished his homework, diligently as always.
As the puppy woke up more fully, she licked at Cal's fingers, let him pet her a little, then got up and wandered to the edge of the bed, clearly afraid to jump, but still considering it. "You wanna get down?" Cal asked, even as he reached over and set her down on the floor. "There you go, darling."
She padded around the room, circling around Namor's feet and eventually getting close enough to give his ankle wings a curious sniff.
Namor more or less ignored the words of his roommate, moving from a catalog of menswear to a Time magazine, when he felt his ankle wing twitch involuntarily. When he felt something brush the feathers on it, he looked down, arching an eyebrow. "May I assist you?" he asked the animal, only slightly peeved but also somewhat enchanted with the animal's curiosity regarding his wing.
Cal had shifted to the edge of his bed, putting his socked feet down on the floor. Just in case Namor behaved like an asshole and he had to rescue the pup. He watched with amusement as she stepped back in alarm when the wing fluttered, then padded closed again and, very gingerly, raised a tiny paw to give it a tap.
Namor couldn't help but snort slightly as his wing flinched from the tap; someone as durable and strong as he was barely even so much as felt it. "Yes, I have a wing there," Namor confirmed for the small animal. "I suppose that is fascinating to you." He glanced up to Cal. "Am I permitted to pick her up?" he asked. After all, this animal was not only Cal's, but it was... well, it was an animal, and one with which he was unfamiliar. He was curious, he had to admit.
Cal wasn't sure she even realized that having a wing there was odd, at her age, but she was being adorable with it. She yipped at the wing, then tapped it again, clearly thinking it a game now. Cal looked up at Namor at his question, fond expression growing a little guarded. "If you're gonna be careful with her."
"Of course," he said. Though he was wondering now if she just wanted to play with his ankle wings. "Is this now a game? Have we invented a game?" Namor asked the small animal, his wing fluttering just a little of its own accord. "That isn't the only one I have, you know,' he added.
But for her part, the puppy seemed happy to play with this one, for now. After a few more paw taps, she tried to tackle it, jumping a little in the air to try and do it.
Namor's brow arched at the attempted assault, and he moved his foot forward, the wing darting out of the way. "A touch slow, I think," he remarked, smirking only a little. Okay, he could see why surfacers liked these animals.
Whoa there, that almost sounded like appreciation in Namor's voice. Cal's eyebrows lifted slightly, and he smiled as he watched the pup chasing after the wing. Puppies really were magical.
Namor came in from behind with his hand, scooping up the pup rather effortlessly, but with surprising grace and gentleness. "It seems that juvenile fascinations triumph across all species," Namor mused as much to the puppy as to himself, bringing the pup close to his face, looking closely at her.
The pup strained towards Namor, sniffing him curiously, then licked his nose.
He recoiled slightly, out of the pup's reach, and blinked at it. "I can only assume that is some sort of show of affection," Namor said. "I hope that you do not expect me to reciprocate," he added to the pup, before setting her back down. If she wanted to play with his wings more, he supposed he could deign to do so. It wasn't like he had much else to do.
