Purrlestia


                                            >You snap awake as your bed lurches to the side, even though you should be used to it by now.

                                            >It's still quite dark out, making you look over at your alarm clock while your visitor makes herself comfortable kneading the bedsheets.

                                            >5 am.

                                            "Seriously, you couldn't have done this earlier, so I could get back to sleep with more than an hour and a half?"

                                            >Of course, you don't get an answer back aside from a pleased and muted... purr.

                                            >If you could call it that.

                                            >That's what it's supposed to be, though it sounds more like a continuous, rhythmic nicker.

                                            >Ah well, it's still kinda soothing, in a weird way.

                                            >The bed shifts as your companion decides being halfway down the bed by your side isn't close enough.

                                            >Pretty soon, you feel the complimentary headbutt of affection on your cheek.

                                            >The way they decided to lop off her horn was crude, to say the least.

                                            >But it doesn't bother her, and it saves you from being impaled.

                                            >Curiously, her wings are still there.

                                            >Apparently cats have wings in fish head land?

                                            >Damn Chinese knockoffs.

                                            >Of course the price was too good to be true.

                                            >Oh well, beggars can't be choosers.

                                            >Another headbutt, this one just a bit harder.

                                            >It's a strong hint she wants to be petted.

                                            >Fuck.

                                            >You probably aren't getting back to sleep.

                                            >With a heavy sigh, you reach one hand up to rub her chin, while your other arm stretches out for the lamp on the bedside table.

                                            >With a click of the cord pull, soft yellowed light illuminates your bedroom.

                                            >Momentarily blinded, Celestia squints while her eyes adjust to the new light level.

                                            >Soon, her pupils settle down to the normal cat-like slits - albeit with magenta-hued irises.

                                            >The actually seemed to try to make those look good on this bootleg, to go along with the rather realistic behavior programming.

                                            >The same can't be said for the crudely painted cat nose on the tip of her snout, the pink pigment having to stretch to envelop both nostrils.

                                            >Perhaps worse, the hasty transformation of horse ears to triangular cat ears displays poor workmanship as well, showing off uneven and ragged stitching.

                                            >This wasn't what you signed up for.

                                            >Yet everything else is very close to what would be expected - the coloring of her coat and mane, the physique, her hair and tail style...

                                            >How the hell everything else went off the rails is a mystery.

                                            >And of course, the customer support number didn't work.

                                            >"Mrrr."

                                            >Celestia flops down on her side, stretching out her legs and exposing her belly.

                                            "Do you actually want a tummy rub, or are you gonna try to bite me after a few seconds?"

                                            >"Mrow."

                                            >Using the comforter as leverage, she scoots closer on her side over to you.

                                            "You are so needy."

                                            >Wary for sudden movements, you cautiously reach over and scratch her belly, eliciting a fresh cacophony of distorted purrs from Celestia.

                                            >Purrlestia.

                                            >Ha.

                                            >What a horrible pun.

                                            >Is that all she is?

                                            >A half-baked joke from the factory to pawn off on an unsuspecting customer?

                                            >Maybe that's how they all are.

                                            >The "correct" full-price models in stores are certainly legit, with Celestia's speech and personality.

                                            >Again, you should have known better.

                                            >But.

                                            >You have to admit, she is still good company.

                                            >The first couple of days were filled with regret.

                                            >After all, turning her on after the first disappointing inspection saw her bolt and hide under your bed.

                                            >She just barely fit.

                                            >And needed your help to get out.

                                            >That was a festival of pitiful mewls mixed with spitting and hissing as you lent aid.

                                            >It doesn't seem like she really understands human language, which would have made things so much easier.

                                            >But after the adrenaline wore off, she seemed to understand what you were doing.

                                            >You two gradually figured each other out.

                                            >Life is pretty good now.

                                            >Still, as you watch her hind hooves reach forward to grab at your hand on her belly, you are reminded she's still very much as much cat as she is robopony.

                                            >You pull your limb away just as she tries to nip at you, rolling to lay on her stomach.

                                            "How did I know you were going to do that?"

                                            >"Mrr."

                                            >She still has that same innocent and pleased look that hardly fades.

                                            >It makes it hard to know what she's planning.

                                            >And while maybe it's just a way of playing, pony teeth hurt.

                                            >Her head suddenly snaps away from you, all attention brought to the bedroom door left ajar.

                                            "What? You hear the icemaker again?"

                                            >Not a sound or movement from Celestia aside from an ear swiveling to catch your words.

                                            "Celestia, I swear, do not-"

                                            >You don't even get to complete your sentence as one of her hooves barely misses your nads as she leaps of the bed and bolts out of the room, deftly sneaking through the door.

                                            >Out in the dining room, you hear the sounds of hooves scrambling for traction on the hardwood floor, followed by the thump of her body smacking against the far wall.

                                            >But it doesn't stop her hooves from working frantically to push forward to wherever she's off to investigate.

                                            >Crazy ass catmare.

                                            >Fuck it, one more hour of sleep is better than none.

                                            >You flick off the light and roll over.


                                            >No need to go into the office - you get to work from home today.

                                            >Score!

                                            >Well, other than having to go over some code with a fine-toothed comb.

                                            >But being in your own plush chair from the comfort of your living room and away from your annoying cubicle neighbor is a major win.

                                            >You don't know how John has a job, considering he's always gabbing on the phone.

                                            >Cocksucker.

                                            >Whatever, no need to think about that today.

                                            >You set down a cup of coffee freshly brewed in the kitchen and flop down into your armchair.

                                            >At the very least, you put on some halfway decent clothes, rather than wear your pajamas.

                                            >Don't want to feel completely lazy.

                                            >Grabbing your work laptop you left beside the chair on the floor, you flip it open and log in.

                                            >*ting* *ting* *ting*

                                            >Peace and quiet in the house is disturbed by a faint sound coming from...

                                            >Where, exactly?

                                            >Of course, there's a likely candidate for *who* is causing it.

                                            "Aurora, c'mere," you calmly call out for her.

                                            >You felt it necessary to change her name.

                                            >After all, she's got her own personality - she isn't Celestia.

                                            >She never responded to that name anyway.

                                            >Not like this is much different now.

                                            "Pspspspsps."

                                            >Hoofsteps quickly begin to thump around from the upstairs, followed by the rapid traversal of the wooden staircase just one room over.

                                            >Aurora slows her movements to a crawl at the point her hooves touch the ground floor, slowly sashaying into your view.

                                            >Of course, she sports that innocent, sweet smile.

                                            "What were you doing up there?"

                                            >She cocks her head as she sits upon the floor, seemingly unable to comprehend what you're asking.

                                            "Just... I'm not mad, I'm just trying to focus on my work, see?"

                                            >You flip the laptop around so she can see it, her eyes darting to the screen for a brief moment, before returning to you.

                                            >Her tail swishes back and forth across the hardwood, the only audible sound coming from her right now.

                                            >That expression hasn't changed a bit.

                                            >Whatever programming she had installed to make her like this hasn't taken away her ability to show emotions - she does frown or scowl when she's unhappy or upset.

                                            >But this is Aurora's content face - and her default 'straight' face.

                                            >It's very hard to read sometimes.

                                            >Such as now.

                                            "Don't mess with whatever that was upstairs, okay? That was kinda annoying."

                                            >She bobs her head slightly as if nodding in understanding, before rising to a standing position and strutting over to you.

                                            >Aurora isn't as tall as she probably should be to match the show character, but she could give a Great Dane a minor inferiority complex.

                                            >She brushes up against your knees in affection, before pulling a one-eighty and heading back out of sight around the corner.

                                            >Before returning to the first line of code, you carefully take a sip of your coffee, finding it's just barely at a reasonable temperature to drink.

                                            >Still, it's a slight injection of caffeine that will go a long way as you start focusing on the alphanumeric gibberish you have to sort through to start off.

                                            >*Clack*

                                            >That came from the kitchen.

                                            >And it sounded like something on the marble countertop.

                                            "Now I know someone isn't jumping up on the counter to look out the window she can see through anyway, right?" you loudly comment.

                                            >You wait a moment.

                                            >No movement at all.

                                            >Certainly not the thump of her high-tailing it down to the floor.

                                            >With a sigh, you set you laptop off to the side and rise to your feet.

                                            >You make as little noise as possible as you tiptoe toward the room opening, the carpet aiding your efforts.

                                            >You gotta catch her in the act.

                                            >*ting* *ting*

                                            >Well, there's that familiar sound again, also emanating from the kitchen.

                                            >What the hell is that?

                                            >You've heard it before...

                                            >Rounding the corner as the tinny sound continues, you have your answer.

                                            >Beyond the dining room table and the island divider, Aurora stands huddled up on the counter, looking comically oversized as she tries to avoid stepping in the sink.

                                            >*ting* *ting*

                                            >One hoof playfully bats at the pull cord for the window shade, which repeatedly bounces off the window.

                                            >Dammit.

                                            "Hey!" you shout, clapping your hands.

                                            >Aurora's head snaps around, startled by the noise as her eyes become wide as saucers.

                                            "Get down! What's wrong with you?!"

                                            >One step toward her is all it takes for Aurora to bolt, jumping down and scurrying into the dining room, around the banister, and up the stairs in a flash.

                                            >Not quick enough to hide the smile on her face, though.

                                            >Ugh, this is probably gonna be one of those days where trouble is all she's looking for in entertainment...

                                            >Home sweet home.