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Post by Malcolm on Nov 15, 2021 23:31:48 GMT -6
Currently Training: Cashew Level 6, Loyalty 8
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Post by Malcolm on Nov 15, 2021 23:36:18 GMT -6
Malcolm hadn’t really intended to get into this whole… creature rearing business. Sure, he had the one horse--- or whatever it was they liked to call them here, the ones with the long tails--- but that was just to help him blend in. And, of course, since there was no other reliable way of transport in this gods-forsaken city, unless he wanted to go everywhere by himself on foot, he had paid for the thing to be trained by someone else who wasn’t concerned with the possibility of getting kicked upside the head by a self-important animal.
He was told that the breed he wanted would still have to bond with him before it would listen, but he could do that from the other side of a fence, after someone else had taught it some manners.
And one horse was enough -- to last him a lifetime, even, come to that.
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Post by Malcolm on Nov 15, 2021 23:36:37 GMT -6
He really hadn’t been looking to add to his collection, not even a little bit. Which made the business of Cashew’s acquisition a bit of a surprise, even to Malcolm himself, when it had happened. Mal didn’t consider himself an impulsive person, generally speaking. Some people might say he was, but that just goes to show what a good job he was doing of disguising his intentions. What he did, he generally thought through, planned. Sure, sometimes improvising was a necessary part of it, but he had long term goals in mind, and he acted in accordance with those.
But the number one thing was money. And that was what Malcolm saw, when he spotted a little bit of fluff in a display.
It took a little convincing for the previous owner to part with the creature, but money talked here, the same as it did anywhere.
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Post by Malcolm on Nov 15, 2021 23:36:48 GMT -6
And while the creature seemed to be in good health and good care, it was also obvious that it was hardly the prize of the collection by any means. Which was a damned waste, if you asked Mal, but that was why he had taken the trouble to purchase Cashew for himself. Another man’s loss was his own gain; that was always the way of it.
“Cashew, Cashew, Cashew,” said Malcolm, looking at the creature in its--- in his carrier. Cashew was grooming himself. Malcolm smiled. “Yes, you understand. Looking your best is the key to impressing clients. I’m glad to see you’ve come to me with the right mindset.” It did feel a bit stupid to be talking to an animal like you might a person, but he did want this thing to like him. They weren’t going to have much of a working relationship if that wasn’t the case.
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Post by Malcolm on Nov 15, 2021 23:37:02 GMT -6
Even Malcolm recognized that much. And he’d managed his own fair share of stupid or unpleasant people, so how hard could one animal be, anyway?
“One look at you, and everyone is going to lose their minds over how cute you are. And then they won’t be any the wiser when you nick their earrings, or maybe even their wallet. Or when I do. Either or.” He shrugged. He was a flexible man, and it may turn out that Cashew wouldn’t have a talent for stealing. But he ought to have a talent for distraction, at least, which was all Malcolm really needed out of him.
The only trouble now… was that Malcolm had to train him. He couldn’t pay someone else to do all of it this time, sadly, since that would clue them in on what Malcolm had in mind, and he didn’t want anyone around to give away his con.
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Post by Malcolm on Nov 15, 2021 23:37:16 GMT -6
Besides which, it wouldn’t be good to have a partner in crime who would roll over for anyone else, which meant that Malcolm had to take him on personally for at least a significant portion of the training. He wasn’t looking forward to it--- in fact, he was wearing leather gloves. As soft as Cashew looked, there was no telling if he had any unpleasant… secretions, or if he was prone to biting. All Malcolm could do was find out the hard way.
“Well, out you come,” he said, unlatching the carrier door and sticking a hand in.
He was suddenly very glad to have been wearing gloves. Cashew, the ungrateful little weasel, went and bit him. “Yow!” said Malcolm, less out of real pain and more out of surprise. At least that surprised Cashew enough that he let go, scrambling to the back of the carrier and hissing at Malcolm.
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Post by Malcolm on Nov 15, 2021 23:37:35 GMT -6
“Geez. Fine, you can stay in your miserable cage, you miserable rat.” He slammed the door shut, and picked up the carrier, placing it in the larger pen that he had set up for Cashew. He unlatched the door and then got out as quickly as he could, in case Cashew had any more ideas about chewing off his fingers.
… Back to the drawing board with this one.
Never let it be said that Malcolm was a man who couldn’t compromise, or who couldn’t learn from his mistakes. He came back the next day armed with a good deal of research. It was easier said than done---- the local encyclopedias had nothing on Cashew’s exact breed, and he learned after a great deal of probing that Cashew was, in fact, some sort of halfbreed mutant.
Cashew didn’t look it, or at least not based on the descriptions he'd found.
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Post by Malcolm on Nov 15, 2021 23:37:45 GMT -6
Malcolm had done a little research into these mutants, and most of them came out real ugly and mutilated-looking. Apparently the process had been refined somewhat in recent years, so the vast majority no longer came out looking like horrible monstrosities that ought to be put out of their misery, but as far as care went, they were all over the place. Some specimens had detailed notes, but the batch Cashew had been made in was recent, and hadn’t yet been added to any sort of public directory.
He could do little more beyond looking at documents that addressed more general... small animal care. And as far as that went, the literature all said to avoid upsetting the animal as much as humanly possible when first bringing it to a new home after its adoption, which meant… leaving them alone as much as possible, for the first little while.
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Post by Malcolm on Nov 15, 2021 23:38:10 GMT -6
Well. It wasn’t a productive outcome, but it wasn’t hard to do either, and Malcolm reminded himself that the creature was an investment. Right. Then there was no sense in rushing into things and ruining a creature he’d paid good coin for, when he could be patient and come out of it with something that could give him better returns. Patience it was, then.
The enclosure was then stocked with everything that a creature like Cashew could want: a dust bath, a nice water bottle and a water dish to boot, a sturdy food dish filled with the finest shop pellets Malcolm could find, plenty of straw for the nest box, and wood shavings for the floor of the enclosure.
He also placed a single raisin on top of the food. Someone had mentioned a sweet might make a good peace offering, though Malcolm secretly doubted it.
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Post by Malcolm on Nov 15, 2021 23:38:25 GMT -6
Was this thing smart enough to know that he was the one providing for it? He hadn’t thought them capable of that level of intelligence.
And then he left Cashew alone, except to clean his cage, or to change his food and water, which was a pain to do, but whatever. He reminded himself again that it was an investment for the future and got on with it. At first, Cashew ran for the nest box whenever Mal entered the room, but over a couple of weeks, he did seem to… mellow out somewhat. Some days he even became comfortable enough to ignore Malcolm, which was supposed to be a good sign, but honestly just felt kind of insulting.
“Alright, you,” said Mal. “Since you’re enjoying yourself so much, let’s do something.” He paused while he was cleaning to rest his hand next to Cashew, who immediately jerked up and ran back into his nest box.
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Post by Malcolm on Nov 15, 2021 23:38:52 GMT -6
… Okay, so that didn’t work. Well, there was always the next day.
The next day, Malcolm moved more slowly. That seemed to do the trick. This time Cashew kept an eye on him, but didn’t immediately run for the hills. It was infuriating to be calling this progress, but… “Good,” he said, through gritted teeth. He wiggled his fingers experimentally, and Cashew twitched his nose.
Not wanting to push his luck too much further, Malcolm stayed like that for a few minutes, then finished his work and left Cashew alone again.
The following day, he did the same. And the day after that, and the day after that. It was so, incredibly boring, and he had to remind himself to be patient over and over again, but eventually he was rewarded when Cashew began to sniff at his fingers. “Oh, finally,” said Malcolm, because why shouldn’t he?
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Post by Malcolm on Nov 15, 2021 23:39:07 GMT -6
It had taken such a long time for it to happen, and besides, it wasn’t like these things understood words until you taught them. He wiggled his fingers again, and Cashew backed off for a moment, then came back sniffing. Gently, ever so gently, Malcolm began to brush his hand against Cashew’s fur.
Cashew didn’t bolt. “Good,” said Malcolm. He kept that up for a minute, then left Cashew alone. If there was one thing he was learning these days, it was the value of knowing when to quit while you were ahead. Push a little further and he might lose all the progress that he had made. And while he already couldn’t wait until Cashew had calmed down enough that he might actually teach the little bugger something useful, he consoled himself with the idea that they were in fact making real and tangible progress… even if it was taking forever and driving him insane.
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Post by Malcolm on Nov 15, 2021 23:39:20 GMT -6
Finger wiggling and tentative pets turned into something that could more reliably be called petting in the coming days. That gave him a little satisfaction at last, though it still felt like being offered crumbs of liberties by a lowly weasel. “Look at you, you little prince, making up the rules as if you own the place,” said Malcolm, scratching under Cashew’s chin. “Well, when this is over, I’ll be calling the shots, so don’t get too used to it.”
Cashew had no idea what he was saying, of course, and was enjoying the chin scratches. At least he was enjoying the contact now. “To think that when we first met, you bit me,” Mal said. “You’re really rethinking that decision right now, aren’t you? You didn’t know how good it could be.”
When Malcolm pulled away, Cashew followed his hand a little.
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Post by Malcolm on Nov 15, 2021 23:40:04 GMT -6
Malcolm noted this with an arched brow, the gears turning in his head. “Hmm,” he said. “Well, that’s enough for today, but maybe tomorrow…”
The next day, when he crouched down, Mal waited for Cashew to see if the creature would notice and come to him. As soon as Cashew registered that Mal was lowering himself, he came scurrying over. “Good,” said Malcolm. For a moment, he steeled himself for the possible ways in which what he was about to try could possibly go wrong. He was wearing gloves, and some clothes that he wouldn’t be terribly sad about if they were ruined--- which, suffice to say, made him feel terrible, since he liked to be well dressed and these were the kinds of rags you wore to, well, work with animals. But such was the price he paid for taking on an endeavor like this, he supposed.
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Post by Malcolm on Nov 15, 2021 23:40:18 GMT -6
It wasn’t like you wore nice clothes to muck out a horse’s stall either, so until he could hire help, these were a necessary evil.
Still, being bitten wasn’t a pleasant sensation. And it was entirely possible that he was reading the signs wrong. But nothing ventured, nothing gained, and so he held out a hand to Cashew, and waited until the creature came in for some chin scratches.
Cashew allowed himself to be scratched. And then Mal took his hand away, moved it a little further, and Cashew followed. Now, here was the tricky bit: Malcolm placed his other hand on the ground, then moved his petting hand over the outstretched one, to see if Cashew would let himself be led onto it.
Cashew sniffed a bit at the hand that was laid out flat, but it didn’t do anything interesting that he could see, so he was soon content to hop right onto it.
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