Post by Tumblebrutus on Jul 1, 2010 22:46:37 GMT -5
((This RP will be set after an AIM RP which Taintie and me will post a transcript to soon. Summary of that was Tumble being depressed about Victor and Misto and coming out to Pounce as being bi, Pounce being kinda a sucky friend, Pounce being convinced that Tumble's really gay as he battles his own sexuality, and with making up them lying in the grass unseen to sleep. This thread is open, so please jump in it. Would love some good drama.))
Trust was always a funny thing for Tumblebrutus. He'd been raised fairly innocent, certainly sheltered, more so, really, after the incident. Before then, he'd sometimes use his hyperactivity for poor use, just some tomfoolery. He hadn't exactly stopped it, but the extent was greatly subdued. By that point, Pouncival essentially owned their friendship.
Usually Tumblebrutus didn't mind.
He was consumed in thought as he sat against the stump of a tree, somewhat curled up. Things were strange, but they were going to be okay. As long as he had Pouncival--that was all he needed. Skimbleshanks liked Victor and Mistoffelees better anyway, and Jennyanydots was great. He somewhat thought it was strange that, for as close as he was to his mother, he couldn't see the resemblance. Maybe he just needed to try harder, be busy doing good deeds... he didn't exactly want to gain weight, but he doubted he'd be able to anyway with all the running he did. Thinking about it, he couldn't see a resemblance between him and his father, yet another busybody who was always gone and, when around, had other, more important cats to tend for.
He thought maybe he'd end up like Victor but the only thing they had in common were the color of their markings and being equal opportunity lovers, not that Tumblebrutus had ever had the chance to love. It was hard to wait for his first kiss, for the first time anything would happen, but he needed to.
A smile came to his face as he closed his eyes, imagining lips on his that were electric. Tongue kissing seemed so weird but everyone did it so it must have been nice. The idea of cupping a kitten's breast in his hand stirred something in his groin, just the way he pictured his hand lower. What did queens feel like down there? It wasn't like he'd never seen one nude--there were plenty of opportunities at the Jellicle Ball, but that was so sacred he didn't process the build. That was time to focus on Old Deuteronomy, on the Everlasting Cat. Did toms feel the same way he did when he touched himself? He desperately wanted to find all of this out first hand, but it needed to be special.
There were a lot of questions he didn't know the answers to simply because no one told him. Figuring out things on his own was difficult, and he didn't know how to bring up the questions. His mom wouldn't know because she was a queen, not a tom. He'd shyly tried to ask her how old cats needed to be before engaging in activity, and she'd sat him down saying he was far too young and terrorized him with stories of pregnancy, of the five kittens she'd had that she couldn't locate. Tumblebrutus didn't want to be one of those kits. He wanted to stay with the tribe, with his human home nestled up against one of the girls purring, sometimes curling up to sleep on the floor next to Jenny's bed if he had a nightmare, sometimes the same with Victor though he'd stopped the practice after not realizing Plato was spending the night once and the older cat ripped on him for being a scaredy cat.
Trust was always a funny thing for Tumblebrutus. He'd been raised fairly innocent, certainly sheltered, more so, really, after the incident. Before then, he'd sometimes use his hyperactivity for poor use, just some tomfoolery. He hadn't exactly stopped it, but the extent was greatly subdued. By that point, Pouncival essentially owned their friendship.
Usually Tumblebrutus didn't mind.
He was consumed in thought as he sat against the stump of a tree, somewhat curled up. Things were strange, but they were going to be okay. As long as he had Pouncival--that was all he needed. Skimbleshanks liked Victor and Mistoffelees better anyway, and Jennyanydots was great. He somewhat thought it was strange that, for as close as he was to his mother, he couldn't see the resemblance. Maybe he just needed to try harder, be busy doing good deeds... he didn't exactly want to gain weight, but he doubted he'd be able to anyway with all the running he did. Thinking about it, he couldn't see a resemblance between him and his father, yet another busybody who was always gone and, when around, had other, more important cats to tend for.
He thought maybe he'd end up like Victor but the only thing they had in common were the color of their markings and being equal opportunity lovers, not that Tumblebrutus had ever had the chance to love. It was hard to wait for his first kiss, for the first time anything would happen, but he needed to.
A smile came to his face as he closed his eyes, imagining lips on his that were electric. Tongue kissing seemed so weird but everyone did it so it must have been nice. The idea of cupping a kitten's breast in his hand stirred something in his groin, just the way he pictured his hand lower. What did queens feel like down there? It wasn't like he'd never seen one nude--there were plenty of opportunities at the Jellicle Ball, but that was so sacred he didn't process the build. That was time to focus on Old Deuteronomy, on the Everlasting Cat. Did toms feel the same way he did when he touched himself? He desperately wanted to find all of this out first hand, but it needed to be special.
There were a lot of questions he didn't know the answers to simply because no one told him. Figuring out things on his own was difficult, and he didn't know how to bring up the questions. His mom wouldn't know because she was a queen, not a tom. He'd shyly tried to ask her how old cats needed to be before engaging in activity, and she'd sat him down saying he was far too young and terrorized him with stories of pregnancy, of the five kittens she'd had that she couldn't locate. Tumblebrutus didn't want to be one of those kits. He wanted to stay with the tribe, with his human home nestled up against one of the girls purring, sometimes curling up to sleep on the floor next to Jenny's bed if he had a nightmare, sometimes the same with Victor though he'd stopped the practice after not realizing Plato was spending the night once and the older cat ripped on him for being a scaredy cat.
