ic inbox.

[heatmetal]

[ his voicemail greeting is just a guitar riff ]

Comments

[heatmetal]

I think so?

[ the cats startle and move to run until Eddie holds out a hand, murmuring something soothing. ]

[retromix]

... This is some trippy shit, serious Mary Poppins or something vibe.

[ Steve starts opening some cans as he crouches down, sliding them over as he keeps a wary eye on the cats. Never know when danger might strike. ]

[heatmetal]

[ prepare to get swarmed by hungry howling babies. They go right for the cans OM NOM NOMING their way through ]

So... Mary Poppins but make it metal.

[retromix]

[ jESUS CHRIST, Steve stands up to open the last few cans and drops them hastily, backing off. ]

Are kitty cats metal?

[heatmetal]

Black ones are.

[ scratching chins, grinning st the purring. ]

You know they have a hard time finding homes? Lotta people hurt them just because of that whole saying about bad luck... People are maaaad superstitious.

[retromix]

[ Steve walks over, tilting a hand to scritch the top of Eddie's hair in the same way. ]

You don't say?

[heatmetal]

[ he'll do his best impression of a cats purr, taking it a step further by rubbing himself against Steve's leg. ]

[retromix]

[ What an utter dork; Steve is wholly endeared. ]

Now that's some kinky shit. [ Twirling a curl around a finger, he asks, ] You want to try calling some other critters over? Bats, cats ... what's next?

[heatmetal]

You like a little petplay, baby?

[ he leans against Steve's leg, holding his hand out again to concentrate]

Rats, probably. I tried for mice.

[retromix]

I feel like I know exactly what that is by the way you say it.

[ Rats, yuck. ]

Maybe your power is like, rhyming.

[heatmetal]

Like I'm a fucking nursery book?

[retromix]

Bats, cats, rats ...

[ Listen to this very real suggestion: ]

Maybe try and bring all the hats in the city to you.

[heatmetal]

[ god he loves a stupid stupid man. ]

Okay babe. Lemme try.

[retromix]

[ A respectful silence ensues, then: ]

... Are any hats coming?

[heatmetal]

No, babe. I think things gotta have a brain to respond to me.

[retromix]

Oh. Makes sense, I guess. Magical rules for the talking.

[ Steve wanders back to the car, climbing in to keep an eye on Eddie's progress as he gets comfortable. ]

You're doing great! Try more!

[heatmetal]

[ so he's got a gaggle of cats. After a few false starts - there are also a few rats. Who are... Way better conversationalists than the cats. They're smarter. More eager to chat with him about the city. ]

[retromix]

[ Steve's watching. Sometimes snapping pictures on his phone and feeling like a discount Jonathan Byers, all his shots are less artistic than straightforward. Eddie looks cool though and the animals (even the rats, ew) seem to like him a lot, so he isn't in any danger. Not immediately.

He folds his arms on the steering wheel, cheek pillowed on an arm.

Gonna text him: ]

Cute view.

[heatmetal]

Is this Disney princess shit doing it for you?

[ he seems like he's having a great time, though. Like all these poor misunderstood critters are his flock to tend to and it comes as natural as breathing.

[retromix]

[ If one of those cats isn't named Dustin after all of this ... ]

You're sweet, is all.

[heatmetal]

Not as sweet as you.

[ he might end up with a cat after all of this. The scrawniest and ugliest of them is getting pretty cozy on his lap. ]

[retromix]

Looks like you got a new favorite there.

[heatmetal]

He won't fucking leave. It's Henderson all over again.

[retromix]

[ Freaking called it, he's a prophet. Steve summons a cat carrier in the car. ]

Alright, both of you back in the car.

[heatmetal]

[ he bids farewell to his adoring public, keeping the grubby kitten with him as he stands and makes his way to the van.

He might be pretty when he gets cleaned up. His temperament is sweet, judging by the only reaction to being held out for inspection being a mindless purr. ]

Say hi to your new kid, Stevie.