18th Design [video]

[threadthefire]

[Welcome to the falling and spinning image of Cinna's office and workroom. Finally spinning to a stop on the ground, you're in time to see a dress form fall to the ground. The dress on it is half-done, a few ribbons and scraps of fabric hanging off, which might explain (or not) why the dress is suddenly pounced on by Cinna, who is already covered by a number of ribbons and bits of string. With a hand he starts batting and pulling at the flapping bits of fabric, laughing as they move and unravel. Those who know him will notice that he's rarely seemed so... gleeful. It seems acting like a cat suits him a bit.

In the background, there's another crash and Cinna's head pops up, turning to see a large spool of iridescent thread rolling by, followed by an equally happy and giggling Katniss. She, too, seems to be enjoying herself quite a bit. He watches her for a moment, maybe two, twitching a little before he gets up with a burst of energy to chase after them both.]

Katniss! Share! I want that one, it's shiny! Stop! I want to play with that one!

[They both disappear off-screen and there's another crash, followed by a playful hiss. The sound of two people laughing and wrestling follows, and then the spool rolls back the other way across the camera's view. Another beat and now both Katniss and Cinna scramble over the ground after it, crashing into the dress form and knocking into the camera again, turning it off.]


[ooc: Never leave cats in fabric stores or shops, kids, bad things happen.]

Comments

[aimandfire.livejournal.com]

[ The shimmering thread, were Katniss an actual cat, would be caught around her claws by now, but as things are she is amusing herself by batting the spool back and forth - tangling the free end into a sort of knotted explosion of shininess.

Cinna gets her attention for a second and in that second her pawing goes awry and the spool goes rolling not toward Cinna but farther back between some of the valiantly remaining dress forms, and around one end of a work table. ]

I had it first!

[ Apparently being altered into feline types also means regressing to kindergarten, but there's a light humor here that just isn't seen on Katniss hardly ever - a general playfulness in her tone and movement. She scrambles after it, nose twitching at a thread that falls into her face (there are many errant threads and fabric collateral snagged in her hair or on her shoulders, everywhere really). ]

What's this?

[ She might be asking Cinna...or herself...as she bats at a silver thimble - the iridescent thread momentarily (?) forgotten... ]

[threadthefire.livejournal.com]

[He stares, entranced, like it's something he's never seen before.]

That is a thimble. A bright, shiny, rolling...

[His hand reaches out, like he's going to bat it away.]

[aimandfire.livejournal.com]

[ Katniss' response is to pounce at the thimble, both to claim it for herself and just get closer to the bright, shiny, rolling...

...however in her pouncing she may kind of knock into Cinna as well, the thimble sent moving across the sliver of floor between them. ]

[threadthefire.livejournal.com]

[And now it's a race as Cinna, keeping his balance like the cat he seems to be emulating today, manages to jump towards the little bauble. His focus is laser-tight, on the bouncing thimble. It must DIE.]

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[thenormalsquint]

[Angela's struck dumb for a moment, watching the craziness play out on her computer screen. Her mouth opens and closes like a guppy's, not sure what words would be right to describe what her eyes are witnessing.]

What in the world...

[Those'll work.]

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[threadthefire.livejournal.com]

Angela, look!

[He holds up a hand, festooned in strings.]

They're so fun to play with, you should join us!

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[thenormalsquint]

[She's looking, she's looking, but she still can't register what's she's seeing.]

Cinna, baby, are you feeling okay?

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[threadthefire.livejournal.com]

I'm feeling wonderful. They're so colorful and fun.

[He tosses a few up and bats at them as the fall.]

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[thenormalsquint]

You're acting weird.

[Almost like a cat.]

Are you drunk?

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[threadthefire.livejournal.com]

Of course not. [He almost looks insulted.] But I'd love some... milk. Yes, milk. White, creamy, cool. That would be wonderful.

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[thenormalsquint]

[His behavior is oddly familiar and Angela's not quite wanting to place that puzzle piece where it goes. No, she's stubborn. She's going to shove that thing into another spot until it fits.]

For what?

[If he starts licking himself, it'll be all over.]

Re: video;

[threadthefire.livejournal.com]

For drinking, you asked me if I'd been-

[Oh, look, there's a bird at the window. Cinna's going to go very, very still, before starting to shift in his seat. Soon, he's dashing to the window, dropping the device. While it lands on it's side, it's still recording and Angela can see him at the window, pawing at the glass.]

Look, look, look!

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[thenormalsquint]

[Okay, this is a little worse than self-licking. When he was a dog, he was a dog. None of this human with an animal brain. No, he was just a simple dog who liked to be scratched behind the ear and get belly rub. This is just plain crazy enough to make Angela groan out loud when Cinna runs off atfer whatever a cat feels like running off after.]

Oh god. You're a cat.

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[threadthefire.livejournal.com]

[He looks back, sheepishly moving to retrieve the device.]

Of course not, I'm human, see, fingers?

[He holds up a ribbon and string-covered hand and waggles his fingers. Then waggles them again. And again. Then he bats at the waving pieces with his spare hand, dropping the device again.]

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[thenormalsquint]

Correction: you're a human who thinks he's a cat.

[There has never been a louder sigh in the world than the one Angela just makes. She's picky about her cats and her catlike men, okay?]

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[protects-her.livejournal.com]

[...Holy mother of--

THAT'S IT. GETTING HIS COAT. AND POSSIBLY A SPRAY BOTTLE.]

Cinna?

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[threadthefire.livejournal.com]

Finnick!

[Cinna smiles, a piece of scrap fabric resting on his head.]

You should come over, too! There's so many things to play with here, I never noticed before.

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[protects-her.livejournal.com]

[He's either drugged, drunk, or cursed, and Finnick is not happy about any of these options.]

Don't play with them too hard or you'll ruin them, Cinna.

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[threadthefire.livejournal.com]

[He frowns momentarily, because part of him knows that but...]

But look! [Scraps of what used to be a suit jacket are tossed in the air. As the pieces fall, he bats at them, a delighted look on his face. One of the larger pieces falls to the side and Cinna dives for it, the device falling to the floor again.

When he comes back into view, the scrap is in his mouth.]

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[protects-her.livejournal.com]

[...Rule out drunk, that's way too much coordination for someone inebriated. Cursed is starting to look more and more likely.]

I see. That wasn't supposed to be mine, was it?

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[threadthefire.livejournal.com]

[He spits out the piece of fabric.] This? No, it was...

[Hmmm, who was it for? He can't remember, it's just too fun to play with.]

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[protects-her.livejournal.com]

Okay, well, you're going to hate me tomorrow if I don't do something about this today, so if I promise to come over and play, will you stick with just...tossing around that until I get there?

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[threadthefire.livejournal.com]

[Cinna's not really paying attention because there's a new shadow that's falling on the strings he was playing with earlier and it looks like they're moving.

He's considering a pounce.]

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[protects-her.livejournal.com]

[It's probably a good thing the camera angle is what it is at this point, as pouncing generally comes with a certain amount of butt-wiggling involved, and Finnick would obviously never let Cinna live that down if he saw it. Obviously.]

...Cinna?

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[threadthefire.livejournal.com]

[He's still staring intently.] It moved.