ravenous_raven: Silhouette of Fables' Medea in cat form, "Witch Cat" in a corner (Witch Cat)
ravenous_raven ([personal profile] ravenous_raven) wrote in [community profile] scans_daily2010-05-29 10:32 pm

Frank Miller-esque Cats



So I noticed that it's been sort of an "off" week for cats in comics (Hal Jordan and Roy Harper anyone?) and now I see a Frank Miller-esque version of one of my favorite webcomics, Two Lumps created by Mel Hynes and James Grant and, well, it put me in a much better mood. All you need to know is that the comic is about two Russian Blue cat brothers who are quite different, yet both obsessed with "gooshy food," aka cat food.




Suggested Tags: media: webcomics, creator: Mel Hynes, creator: James Grant
punishermax: (Default)

[personal profile] punishermax 2010-05-30 03:11 am (UTC)(link)
I wake up. My stomach is an empty sack with a hole in it's bottom. My fur is messy from my catnip induced sleep. Last night was too much.

I look over at the shredded remains of my owner's favorite jacket.

But maybe it wasn't enough.

I walk the darkened hallways of the place I call home. Dark. Find it funny how humans can talk to me about laziness when they sleep until seven in the morning.

My whiskers twitch slightly at my attempt at humor, ugh, too early for humor. Right now I need something else.

I enter my owner's room. Video games dot the book case, a mountain I'll conquer later today. He lays on his comforter, sleeping the sleep of the righteous. I almost feel bad for the action I'm about to take

Almost.

I jump at him like something out of the Discovery channel. Movements refined by years of practice. This is a play we act out every morning. The stage? This room. The actors? The occupants.

I slip on top of his chest. The steady movement shows his sleep before I get a good look. I start the engines.

A purr escapes my throat like a theif in the night. The vibrations are the trick. Always.

I'd smile if I wasn't so damn hungry.

It only takes 5 minutes this time. The look he gives me is humorous in it's practiced ease. We both know the score.

This is my home. My city.

A twitch of my tale is the only outward sign of my internal laughter.

MY owner.