throughaphase: (lion cub!)
Kitty was really tired of being a literal kitty. She wanted a real bath, and a hamburger, and also opposable thumbs again. It was tougher when Clint wasn't in any shape to help out, either, and it was pretty clear the dogs were over this whole situation, too.

So for now, she was laying on the sofa, emitting the occasional pitiful meow as she tried to work the remote to turn the TV on.

[For that guy!]
throughaphase: (going over there now)
After radio, Kitty had wandered around for a little bit, trying to see what she could take care of in town, and found that it was actually more insane than she'd seen just going to the radio station. Once she'd confused the hell out of an angry bear by not being tangible enough for it to charge at her, she figured it was time for a break. And maybe a chance to look up which bears you were supposed to play dead around and which ones you were supposed to climb trees for, or whatever, and how you told them apart. Fighting people, she was awesome at that. Dinosaurs were old hat. Bears were new.

And since she was nearby, Kitty decided to check in with/on her boyfriend by poking her head through the front door. "Clint?"


[Guess who it's for. Just guess.]

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Kitty Pryde-Barton

September 2017

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