Cuddle with Tribbles [open]

[virginprice]

Characters: Alcuin, Cinna, and anyone who wants to stop by
Date: Sometime during the tribble event!
Location: Alcuin's shop in the Earth District
Situation: Alcuin's place is overrun with tribbles. Oddly, he doesn't seem to mind
Warnings/Rating: Excessive tribbling


When Alcuin found the first tribble on his doorstep, he'd thought it was the sweetest thing he'd ever seen in his life. The first batch of babies had been delightful- more of them!

Now, several generations in, he knows he should probably worry about the way they're taking over his shop, but they're so lovely and soothing and soft to pet. How can he be upset when they're so nice to have around?

Anyone who stops by the shop isn't likely to find much work going on. Alcuin and his chief designer are much more interested in petting the tribbles.

Comments

[epigrammatical]

Henry has thus far managed to keep the tribbles out of his suite, through extreme fastidiousness. He doesn't dislike the little things—though they strike him as the sort of thing that sentimental girls in particular would enjoy—but he understood McCoy's warning quite well.

Obviously one is eventually going to have to stow away in his pocket at some point.

His perambulations have taken him to Alcuin's shop, where he stops to look in.

[virginprice]

Alcuin looks up as the bell chimes and he waves from where he's sitting, a tribble on each shoulder and three or four on his lap. "Good morning, Harry! How are you?"

[epigrammatical]

"Alcuin! Good morning." His eyebrows go up in surprise at the sight of the tribbles. "You have some new companions, I see."

[virginprice]

"Yes, I found this one on my doorstep." He picks one up, giving it a little pat and a smile. "They multiply very quickly. I know I ought to do something about them, but they're so sweet."

[epigrammatical]

"I admit, I have been extremely hesitant to welcome one into my home," Henry replies, eyeing the fuzzballs dubiously. "But they make a charming noise, do they not?"

[virginprice]

"Well..." He looked around at the tribbles, who had grown to cover most of the surfaces in the shop with rueful amusement. "I cannot say that that is a poor choice. It's probably for the best. Their noise is so soothing, though."

[epigrammatical]

"They are like kittens, without the inconvenience of claws," Henry replied, smiling. "I understand methods are being sought to limit their fecundity. Perhaps in the event of success, I might find space for one in my home."

[virginprice]

"A very sensible decision." Alcuin reaches over to clear off a chair for Henry. "Won't you sit down? I can make some tea."

[epigrammatical]

"Thank you; I should be delighted." He delicately plucks a tribble from the arm of the chair and sets it aside. "How have you been, dear boy? It has been an eventful month, to be sure."

[virginprice]

"I'm glad that things finally seem to be improving again." That isn't just the tribbles making him feel better, either- things really do seem to be much more pleasant everywhere around the turtle. "I feel as though I ought to have helped more, but... I suppose I just needed some time for myself."

There's a bit of guilt there for not helping Asti, though he isn't sure what he could have contributed that others wouldn't have done better.

[epigrammatical]

"There is no shame in taking shelter from a storm," Henry says. "I did so myself. One cannot be everywhere at once, and furthermore some arms are meant for others to take up."

[afirewithfashion]

Oh, hello. A customer?

Ordinarily, Cinna goes to great pains to address anyone who comes in, making sure they're comfortable, helping them with selections. He's around for the high-priced commissions, of course, but that doesn't change the fact that he has a great eye. Some people just want basic, ready made clothing, and he likes to help with that, too.

Today, though, he's distracted when he hears the chime of the door -- several tribbles are grouped around him, at least a dozen, and it appears that he's sorting them. Into aesthetically pleasing groups. The first tribble he'd found (his favorite) is somehow balanced on his shoulder, trilling contentedly.

[epigrammatical]

After talking to Alcuin, Henry ventures over to Cinna—who he knows of, even if they aren't personally acquainted yet—and observes what he's doing with amusement and curiosity.

"I did not know they came in such a pleasing shade of mauve."

[afirewithfashion]

"I'd call it more taupe, wouldn't you?"

Cinna smiles up at the man, picking up one of the mauve/taupe furrballs and offering it to him.

"I know they breed too fast for safety, but it really seems horrible to anhialate them, doesn't it?"

[epigrammatical]

Henry accepts the tribble cautiously—though even his caution is not invulnerable to the charm of a small purring thing. "I am sure that some solution will be devised to manage them humanely. Though what that shall be, I cannot yet imagine."

[afirewithfashion]

Small, purring thing. They're so nice. Cinna seems a little spacy, a little less focused than normal -- in fact, one might say that the little furballs have had a depressive effect on him.

Cinna's stoned.

"I hope so. It's wrong to eliminate them. They don't know any better."

[epigrammatical]

Henry has seen the effects of laudanum on people, and he's beginning to recognise a similarity to Cinna's current symptoms.

"That is true of many dumb animals of which man makes use, is it not?"

Abruptly he realises that he's petting the tribble in his hands the way a young girl would pet a kitten. He ... can't seem to stop, either. It's very soothing.

[afirewithfashion]

Cinna catches that motion of his hands; gives a soft, knowing smile.

"I think to a greater extent with them." What other use do they have? Too small to eat or use the hides, certainly not able to do tricks. Cinna, unlike most Capitol citizens, understands the "unpleasant necessity" of killing animals for food. It was upsetting to so many, which was why they'd dispatched it to the Districts... The same people who watched children slaughter each other gleefully craved steak, but balked to slaughter a cow.

No, Cinna knew what it looked like when children went hungry. He was all in favor of plentiful food. But the tribbles were an exception. Their complete lack of use made them so much more vulnerable. And they were good for one thing:

"By your logic, if we're going to use them, we should keep them alive for theraputic purposes."

[epigrammatical]

"That is hardly the worst idea, is it? It seems that both man and tribble alike would benefit from such an arrangement. If only they were not so—" a quick glance around the shop, "—prolific. Why, they would put the Irish peasantry to shame."

[afirewithfashion]

"I'd like that. That they're safe and useful."

Cinna doesn't want to kill them. He understands that it might be necessary. The idea isn't exactly upsetting, because -- well, surrounded by tribbles. Nothing is upsetting, right now. Still, he reaches down to pet them, his fingers ever so gentle as they work through the fur.

"I'm sorry... did you want something from the shop? Maybe I can help you find it."

Even if it means unseating his tribbles.

[epigrammatical]

"In truth, I merely wished to look in on my friend Alcuin," Henry says with a smile, "though it is certainly a pleasure to see you both, and to see you ... content."

[afirewithfashion]

Content. That gets a small smile from Cinna, and he nods.

"The tribbles have a soothing effect, have you noticed? They're very reassuring."

Both he and Alcuin benefit.

[epigrammatical]

"Yes, it is quite remarkable." He lifts up the tribble in his hands to look at it more closely, and it trills happily at him. "To be sure, pet animals are frequently reassuring presences, but these are unusually so. I wonder how that is."

[afirewithfashion]

"Something about their voice."

Cinna has no doubts about this. "They're so soothing when they trill."

He holds his own close to his chest, letting the rumbles connect directly with his body. Best decision.