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teh_kukalaka
28 August 2006 @ 07:32 pm
Talking to someone about problems is always a hard thing for a bear to do. I mean, really, we aren’t supposed to talk at all, so it’s not like I can open up to my Big One and start complaining that he’s holding me too tight, or I really hate it when he lets women who smell like perfume factories hug me.

I used to be able to talk to Julian’s gym socks, but he’s chosen to bin them, and I wasn’t about to go after them, no matter how nice of company they were.

Right now, though, I’m striking up a fascinating friendship with the duvet. I hope it works out…
 
 
teh_kukalaka
Kukalaka pattered around Julian's quarters, inspecting the state of things. Julian left everything perfectly neat and orderly in the living room, the area around the replicator was spotless, and even the coffee table was free of clutter.

The reasoning behind this, of course, had something to do with...her. The pretty one with the spots. Jadzia. But then, most of Julian's reasoning had something to do about the pretty one with the spots, except when it had to do with saving lives out on the frontier. Or something like that.

But that never changed the fact that Julian always cleaned the living room when he thought he might be able to talk Jadzia into coming over for dinner. Then he never managed to clean all the way through his quarters because he was always needed for something. Yes, Julian Bashir was a very busy man on DS9.

And he was so busy he rarely got around to cleaning his bedroom.

Which suited Kukalaka just fine.

He was pattering, like always, when he noticed the bed. Piled with miles of fluffy white sheets and pillows. All in a tangle.

Julian never could sleep in one spot. Not like a bear. A bear had to sleep in one spot, unless he wanted to snuggle around a little bit and then get up before his human to put himself back. No, Julian curled and wriggled and moved around, but lately he'd been so tired, he just came home and fell into bed and didn't even take his bear with him. Kukalaka knew because he'd watched. Julian didn't even take off his uniform yesterday. He came home, tripped over his own feet in the living room twice, staggered into the bedroom, started to take off his uniform jacket but gave up when he couldn't manage it the first time, and all but collapsed into what was a neat, orderly bed. He'd carried in a stack of data PADDs as well, a stack which was now scattered about the floor, and the once-neat bed was now a fluffy pile after Julian tore it apart to find one of the PADDs. A big, messy pile.

And Kukalaka was investigating that pile.

The bear stepped around yesterday's uniform, hurriedly flung halfway across the room this morning as Julian hopped his way around his quarters, struggling to get a sonic shower, breakfast, changed, and awake in under twenty minutes before his shift began.

Kukalaka glanced up at the...depraved mess left by a much harried Englishman and made a decision. Firmly grasping one end of the bed sheet, he began scaling up the bed, tugging and pulling his way to the top. Once there, he snuggled down in the mounds of white fluff, as content as a bear could be.

Until he heard the door whoosh open.

He froze. Someone was in Julian's quarters. Sniffing the air gently, his ears moving forward, Kukalaka did his best to find out who it was without making a sound.

Smelled Bajoran.

Sounded close.

Could only be one person.

The cleaning lady.

Awww, stuffing. Kukalaka's eyes darted around the bedroom. Could he make it to the shelf in time? Yes, yes, if she went to the living room first...

Tap, tap, tap.

Soft padded footsteps sounded like the banging of a gong to the bear. No time. She was coming to the bedroom first. His body went limp instantly, as all bears know to do in the presence of Big Ones.

The last thing Kukalaka remembered was being engulfed in white and privately thinking bad and particularly nasty thoughts about Ben Sisko, who was silly enough to let Bajoran women volunteer to clean the crew's quarters for pocket money and as a kind of validation for being allowed to stay with their husbands aboard Deep Space Nine.

This was rapidly turning into a horrible, terrible, no good, very bad day.

And Kukalaka hoped Ben Sisko's coffee was too hot to drink today, too.
 
 
teh_kukalaka
12 April 2006 @ 08:01 pm
So, we're all talking about enemies this time around, hm?

Looks like Lieutenant Paris made a mistake. Who wants to tick off space?

Mister Worf fights for honor, a subject a bear can understand. If you do not have honor in a society of honor, then what do you have besides your own self-respect? It's like not having...not having stuffing on a shelf full of stuffed animals.

As for poor Mister Chekov, he has the worst enemy of all. Love will make you sentient beings do the strangest things. I would suggest flowers, if they would help.

Perhaps if everyone in the galaxy had better stuffing for brains...

Ah, but that's not important. We're talking about enemies, not stuffing. (Although, if you're already a rotund bear, stuffing can be an enemy.)

I've already mentioned my enemy, so I'm sure you know of it.

It. I lie, my enemy is not an It. It's a she.

Feyanna.

The Demon Cat.

Julian's always wanted a pet, and when he was younger, about four, he got a cat. I remember this, because he always used to tell me about that cat. Funny...even though he told me about that cat all. the. time., I can't remember its name.

Hm.

Well, he had this cat and he really loved it, even though he always used to claim he loved me more. So, he loved it, but he had this unfortunate habit of petting it too hard.

So, his Big Ones got rid of the cat and opted for a teddy bear instead, because we're supposedly more durable.

More durable my stitches. Do you know how many times I've been laid out piecemeal on a table?

It's a ridiculous number, and that was before the Demon Cat. Julian's always been a bit hard on the things he loves, because he manages to find excuses for taking them everywhere and overlove them.

You would not expect a fifteen year old boy to take a cat to school for show and tell, and yet...

Anyway, as soon as this cat saw me, I knew it was all over. And it was. All over.

All over the floor, all over the dresser, all over the laundry.

I got slashed open and made a new enemy all in one quick afternoon. But it's really not all that bad.

Ever since he fixed me, Julian's been cuddling me to keep me away from the cat, and now Feyanna doesn't get any more treats all week.

So yeah, maybe cats hating teddy bears is a universal constant. A law of physics that can not be changed.

But there's another law my enemy should keep in mind.

Soft and cuddly always beats possessed and demon-y.

Ha.
 
 
teh_kukalaka
04 April 2006 @ 08:15 pm
Have you ever been forced to lie flat on your back and stare up at the world above you...

...and see little pieces of yourself floating on the gentle breeze wafting in from an open window?

If you haven't, and I'm pretty sure I can safely say that you've never had that decidedly unpleasant experience, then you can't truly say your life has ever been complicated.

Take it from me. I know; I've been there. I am there.

It's happened again. That's right, I've been ripped open again, my guts splayed all over the bedroom. And all because Julian turned fifteen and decided he wanted a cat.

Cats hate teddy bears. It's a universal constant like gravity and the laws of physics.

And you can not change the laws of physics.

So, where does a bear go from here? I'm not sure, but I really hope it's not the rubbish bin.
 
 
teh_kukalaka
26 March 2006 @ 08:52 am
You know, there isn't a whole lot of people and things a bear can say they're really acquainted with. What should I talk about? That I'm intimately acquainted with Julian's room? That I have a deep understanding and knowledge of his gym socks?

Sure, I do, but I don't think that's a good thing to think about. Makes me a little depressed thinking about Julian's gym socks.

He bought new socks this year and the old ones were really good friends and they went into the rubbish bin...

Anyway. Reencountering an old acquaintance. Hmmm...this is harder than I thought, but I'm pretty sure....Leeta should work.

I mean, she stole me today, right, so that counts for something.

Alright, so she didn't really steal me, per se. Julian handed me over the second she said she liked me. Really annoys the stuffing out of a bear. Move around all the furniture in the bedroom, I won't complain. Take away my best friend gym socks, and I won't shed a tear. Put me on a shelf when I have a fear of heights and I won't even be stand-offish for a few days. I'm a bear. We love and love and love and never complain about gym socks and shelves, no matter how much we really, really, really, want to.

But hand me over to a girl?

A girl that acts all....girly?

That's just not fair.

So, when I was first acquainted with Leeta, she said she thought I was cute. Not surprising, since I am. So Julian just hands me over, lock, stock, and barrel. She squeezed me, hugged me, kissed Julian (and suddenly I understood why he didn't hesitate to hand me over...), and I thought that would be that.

It wasn't.

She took me to her quarters, threw me on her bed, and didn't come home for twelve hours. And now?

Now we're being reacquainted. She's hugging me while she sleeps. Hugging. Ha! More like squishing me and scrunching me and making my fur go in all different directions.

Did I mention that she drools in her sleep? Now I'm squished, scrunched, and damp.

Bad experience, bad experience, bad experience...

I want my shelf back.
 
 
 
teh_kukalaka
12 March 2006 @ 05:28 pm
Hmmmm. This is interesting. College. Medical School. Medical School students. You know, for the way Julian rambled on and on and on and on about this place, a bear would expect there to be something more to it than this.

Starfleet Academy.

Sounds very mysterious. Smells a little bit like pool chlorine and sweat. Sounds like the voice of this crazy, chattering woman Julian's dad worked with on a financial project amplified times a gazillion. Feels a bit damp, but I think it rained, because it smelled fresh outside.

On the whole, Starfleet not that exciting to me yet, but Julian told me last night before he went to sleep that he plans on making new friends. He also mentioned something about me having a special shelf.

I have a fear of heights. A long fall could pull the stuffing out of a bear, and I'd rather not have that happen. Sure, it's been at least ten years since Julian's had to sew me up, but I still remember when his mom tried to throw me away because my leg had fallen off and Julian decided to stitch me together. I love my master and trust him, I know that now without a doubt, but there isn't a bear in the universe who could honestly say they enjoy the feeling of being sewn up after an accident. Especially not when the bear in question is being sewn by a five year old child armed with nothing but raw enthusiasm and a needle—the former a thing Julian Subatoi Bashir has in spades, the latter he could have used a bit more training with before "fixing" me.

I've been watching through the zipper since Julian put me in here, but it's hard to make things out. A bear can't exactly wiggle around for the best position. Still, from what I can see, it looks like the room is small, but neatly organized. I saw a glimpse of Julian's roommate when they were saying hello to one another.

Whoa.

This guy makes Julian look tiny. I think I could fit in one of his hands. He invited in some of the people from his division—-engineering science department, or something like that—-and they all said hello to Julian, too. He was nervous, I could tell from the sound of his voice.

One of the girls asked what Julian had brought with him, using big words the whole time, and he mentioned me! Then he took me out of his duffel bag and let her hold me. She was nice....smelled like meadow grass and sunshine. I liked her ears; they were swept back and pointed. She was very pretty, with dark glittery eyes, but even though she was holding me, a loveable, cuddleable bear, she didn't smile at all.

They invited him out for raktajino, and one of the guys promised to show him all the pretty girls on campus, although the one with the pointed ears didn't seem to like that idea because she used more big words and basically told Julian he'd be really dumb to do it.

So, you know, he's going to after they're all done with their raktajino.

Still, Julian seemed quite pleased with it all, and so I'm happy as well. I like Starfleet Academy, even though, really, it's not all it's been cracked up to be. I like these new people of his. In fact, I like just about everything here.

Except for the shelf. I still don't like heights.
 
 
teh_kukalaka
02 March 2006 @ 04:40 pm
It's nice to be out. Boxes are dreadful things—-cold, cramped, and dark. I hate the dark. Boxes are always dark. They're so enclosed, and they always smell like the place I was born. The small, floating particles of dust and fluffy filling, shimmering in the thin rays of light that burst through the crack in the cardboard, smell like crinkled newspaper and cookie crumbs. That must be what I smell like, then. New toy smell. Crinkled newspaper and cardboard and cookie crumbs with a hint of vanilla and bleach.

But now I'm out, and I won't smell like that for long. I have become the property of one Julian Subatoi Bashir. He's skinny and dark, with soft hands and bright eyes. He's a bit slow, though, even though he's not even three yet. He doesn't understand why he's not allowed to pet the cat that hard, although his Big Ones tried to tell him twice.

He smells like fresh mown grass and laundry detergent and soap and some sugary, fruit-flavored cereal that probably isn't helping him grow. I'll probably smell the same way soon enough. He's been hauling me around all over today, but I don't mind. The box was small and confining. Sure, it's not so much fun to be dragged through the sandbox, but it's nice for fluffing out fur, and he did brush me off afterwards.

Yes, I like it here. Compared to the box, this is heaven. I've only been with this boy for half a day, but I think he needs me. He's not played with too many of the other Little Ones today, and when he did they behanved strangely. His Big Ones have been walking around and watching him—-like they're waiting for him to do a trick.

I don't think my master is one for doing tricks. He's calmer now, (It was the cereal. There's no other explanation for it. He can't possibly be that enthusiastic all the time.) and he's stopped pulling me by my ear. He's just sitting on the bench by the playground, talking to me quietly. There's a very pretty river that cuts across the side of the grounds, and the water is brilliant purple. I hope he doesn't decide to drag me over there. I don't like getting wet.

Hmmm. Apparently, we're going to be bestest friends soon, and he'll never ever ever let me go or leave me somewhere, and he loves me and he knows I love him too.

Well, now, I don't know if I love this Julian Bashir boy yet.

But I do know that this is going to be some new adventure....
 
 
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