The Moon Is Made of Cheese - [Open to all baddies]

[Macavity]

The moon had never shone so brightly.

A silhouette against the clear night sky could only been atop the roof of an expansive warehouse. It was a beautiful, comfortable summer night, perfect for reflection or moon-gazing. The latter activity was more suited for the crime lord at this time, preferring to do as little thinking as he could manage. Simple staring, listening to the crickets and occasional breeze rustling a forgotten piece of paper, was just fine with him.

Macavity enjoyed the night. The natural darkness was his friend and best ally. It was his lover that he confided in and trusted. Tonight, sitting on a concrete block, it cloaked him enough even with the moonlight beaming.

After a long day of keeping people in their place, the ginger tom was perfectly alright with having an intense mind conversation with himself. He could probably go for a cigarette or something, though.

[Fangor]

The hard coughing that accompanied Fangor's steps morphed into shivering wheezes as he felt his entire ribcage tremble. It was ridiculous, how ill he was, but the last fix seemed to make him feel marginally better or something.

[Macavity]

He could pin those wheezes on just one cat.

"It's not that cold," Macavity called over his shoulder. "Don't be such a drama queen, Fangor."

[Fangor]

The cat straightened himself up at the words, a bit startled at the other cat's presence though he shouldn't have been. The only cat that ever could catch Fangor off-guard was the one cat who he regarded as his superior. He forced himself to swallow saliva to lubricate his throat, to try and stifle the coughs which, slowly, died down though his throat felt sore.

"Has nothing to do with drama, Boss."

[Macavity]

"What brings you out here so late?"

Macavity stole a glance over his shoulder, searching the darkness for one of his best. "You sound like hell, as usual."

[Fangor]

"Thought I'd get more work done." He ran fingers through the back of his hair, a little bit mottled the way it always was. "You know me." Certainly he'd hope his boss would by that point. If there was anything that always was a plus about Fangor, it was his compulsive work ethic. There was never a moment of laziness. The closest one could consider it would be moments of relaxation, or short breathers, ones where he might fuck some cat, or make a spitfire for rodents and fish having been sick of the raw slabs. Sometimes the cooked meat also helped soften the food, something Fangor liked to preserve his teeth for fighting.

"Pascal's been working on it."

[Macavity]

"Glad to hear it. You know what they say - an idle mind is the devil's playground." Macavity chuckled quietly, shaking his head. "Get over here, you sack of death. If you're really cold, I brought my jacket up here." To accentuate the point and invitation, he shrugged off the garment and dropped it on the cold concrete beside him.

[Fangor]

At first he was wary but to refuse the invitation would be rude and so he strode forth, picking it up, and slid it on. It was far too large for the tom, and the scent was solid Macavity. A sniff was given to the air, and for that moment of warmth he could almost ignore the insults that accompanied Macavity. It was obnoxious...