Fill: "Kitnapping", Part 1.chelonianmobileMarch 12 2011, 23:55:18 UTC
Hope you enjoy. Lizard named Bill probably not the same lizard as the one in Alice in Wonderland (who was too darn nice to be him) but the name seemed to fit.
~ The hole was really made for a mouse, not a rat, but a little work with the claws widened it enough for Ratigan to squeeze through after his gang. They saluted with the paws not carrying empty sacks as he sprang to his feet, smoothed back his headfur, and looked them over critically.
"Well done, men," he hissed, glancing around for humans. "It's going perfectly, yes? Just remember to keep your eyes peeled and we'll be out in no time!"
The thugs sniggered and slunk along the skirting board towards the stairs, Ratigan bringing up the rear. He smirked to himself. He had of course carefully neglected to mention to his gang that his outside informant had mentioned that the house they were robbing contained a cat.
After some trouble climbing up the stairs, all except Ratigan having to climb on each others' shoulders to reach each next step, they found the door to the master bedroom. Under Ratigan's watchful eye the gang quickly made a murine pyramid. Bill the lizard, perched on the shoulders of the top two, hurled a grappling hook over the doorhandle; luckily it was a handle and not a round doorknob. The gang took hold of the rope and pulled, leaning on the door to push it open as the doorhandle reached the bottom of its arc. The pyramid collapsed, amidst squeaks of pain.
"Idiots!" Ratigan snarled, aiming kicks at one or two of his lackeys' upturned tail-ends. "We've practiced this a thousand times, can't you learn to balance?"
Realising he was losing control, he took a deep breath and resumed his usual cheery demeanour. "Ahem. Now let's go see what lovely little baubles the lady of the house may have carelessly left lying around, eh?"
The master bedroom, when they walked in, was as tidy as a museum display. That didn't last long. The gang were experts at finding every little hiding place in a room in record time, and small paws were useful for lockpicking. Everything they could fit in their sacks was taken; earrings and finger-rings, cufflinks and tie-pins. Bartholomew found a box of cigars, tore them open, and stuffed his sack with tobacco; the good stuff was hard to get in the sewer. Ratigan watched proudly. He'd taught them well.
Eventually they left, stumbling under the weight of their baggage, Ratigan leading them; his paws were empty, of course. A leader wouldn't lower himself to carrying the loot. He strode, head high, pleased at another success for the world's greatest criminal mastermind.
Bartholomew stopped at another bedroom door, this one slightly open. "Hey, there's a littl'un's room here! Let's see what she's got!"
"No!" Ratigan shouted, spinning on his heel and grabbing at the incompetent mouse, but it was too late; the door was already open, and the unmistakeable smell of cat hit their nostrils. Ratigan prepared to run, but no hissing, spitting, hairball sprang through the door; all they heard from inside the room was a soft, curious "Mew?"
Re: Fill: "Kitnapping", Part 2.chelonianmobileMarch 12 2011, 23:56:00 UTC
Curiously, Ratigan pushed past his cowering crew and peered around the door. The room clearly belonged to a little girl; neat white frills and pastel-coloured ribbons predominated. In a wicker basket in the corner lay a huge chocolate-brown Persian cat, half-asleep, glaring in the direction of the invading rodents but not bothering to get up. The reason for that was apparent; a number of bulges under the cat's thick fluff proved to be an unusually large litter of kittens, latched to the mother cat's side like furry leeches.
"Awwww," cooed Bill, then cleared his throat and straightened up when the rest of the gang glared at him. As a lizard, he didn't really share the rodents' terror of cats, though many cats would catch a lizard if the opportunity came up. Bartholomew moved towards the cat, which blinked idly at him and snuggled down next to its kittens.
"Well, boys, looks like I was misinformed about the feline content of this house," Ratigan said apologetically. Technically that was true; as far as he'd known, the cat was a threat. Apparently not. "I think we'd better leave."
The gang hurried out of the room, only too glad to be going. Ratigan waited to make sure they all got their share of the loot out safely, watching the cats as he did.
One particular kitten caught his eye; it was tiny and light brown, and shoved to the side by the others. A runt. It shuffled to find an unoccupied spot, and was pushed out of the way by its larger siblings. It mewed pitifully and pawed at its mother, who ignored it. Ratigan wasn't used to feeling pity, but he found himself watching the kitten. It was so small ... small enough for him to carry? He grinned to himself as an idea struck him.
"Ain't you comin', Professor?" asked Bill, peering back around the doorway.
"Oh, ah, you go on ahead. I'll ... wait here to make sure the cat doesn't follow," Ratigan said hurriedly. Bill, knowing better than to question, nodded and scurried off. Ratigan, moving as slowly and cautiously as he could, crept up to the cat's basket. The cat watched him, raising a paw in warning but not moving to use it. Slowly enough that his paws barely seemed to be moving at all, he reached towards the kittens.
As he grabbed the runt, the cat snarled and swung its paw down at him. The kitten was heavier than he had thought, but fright gave him the strength to fling it over his shoulder and flee for the door. The cat sniffed at the remaining kittens, then settled down, not caring about the runt; it probably would have died anyway. One less mouth to feed wasn't a problem.
When he got to the end of the landing and realised the cat wasn't following him, Ratigan put the kitten down with a sigh of relief. Even a runt kitten was huge to a rat. It'd take him a while to get it down the stairs, but hopefully it would pay off in the long term. It mewed in protest and headbutted him. Ratigan stroked the kitten's head, examining it. A female kitten, with sticklike legs and small potbelly, fur still short enough to be sticking out like a soft brush, and huge pale-golden eyes. She'd be a fine-looking animal when she'd been fed up a bit, but that was simply a nice bonus. He wasn't concerned that she was a runt. A runt could grow. With careful training, this sad little bundle could become a perfect living weapon ...
While Ratigan mused this over, the kitten looked up at him and mewed indignantly again.
Glancing around to ensure none of his followers had lagged behind to see him, Ratigan knelt down and threw his arms around the kitten's neck. "Awww."
~
The hole was really made for a mouse, not a rat, but a little work with the claws widened it enough for Ratigan to squeeze through after his gang. They saluted with the paws not carrying empty sacks as he sprang to his feet, smoothed back his headfur, and looked them over critically.
"Well done, men," he hissed, glancing around for humans. "It's going perfectly, yes? Just remember to keep your eyes peeled and we'll be out in no time!"
The thugs sniggered and slunk along the skirting board towards the stairs, Ratigan bringing up the rear. He smirked to himself. He had of course carefully neglected to mention to his gang that his outside informant had mentioned that the house they were robbing contained a cat.
After some trouble climbing up the stairs, all except Ratigan having to climb on each others' shoulders to reach each next step, they found the door to the master bedroom. Under Ratigan's watchful eye the gang quickly made a murine pyramid. Bill the lizard, perched on the shoulders of the top two, hurled a grappling hook over the doorhandle; luckily it was a handle and not a round doorknob. The gang took hold of the rope and pulled, leaning on the door to push it open as the doorhandle reached the bottom of its arc. The pyramid collapsed, amidst squeaks of pain.
"Idiots!" Ratigan snarled, aiming kicks at one or two of his lackeys' upturned tail-ends. "We've practiced this a thousand times, can't you learn to balance?"
Realising he was losing control, he took a deep breath and resumed his usual cheery demeanour. "Ahem. Now let's go see what lovely little baubles the lady of the house may have carelessly left lying around, eh?"
The master bedroom, when they walked in, was as tidy as a museum display. That didn't last long. The gang were experts at finding every little hiding place in a room in record time, and small paws were useful for lockpicking. Everything they could fit in their sacks was taken; earrings and finger-rings, cufflinks and tie-pins. Bartholomew found a box of cigars, tore them open, and stuffed his sack with tobacco; the good stuff was hard to get in the sewer. Ratigan watched proudly. He'd taught them well.
Eventually they left, stumbling under the weight of their baggage, Ratigan leading them; his paws were empty, of course. A leader wouldn't lower himself to carrying the loot. He strode, head high, pleased at another success for the world's greatest criminal mastermind.
Bartholomew stopped at another bedroom door, this one slightly open. "Hey, there's a littl'un's room here! Let's see what she's got!"
"No!" Ratigan shouted, spinning on his heel and grabbing at the incompetent mouse, but it was too late; the door was already open, and the unmistakeable smell of cat hit their nostrils. Ratigan prepared to run, but no hissing, spitting, hairball sprang through the door; all they heard from inside the room was a soft, curious "Mew?"
Reply
"Awwww," cooed Bill, then cleared his throat and straightened up when the rest of the gang glared at him. As a lizard, he didn't really share the rodents' terror of cats, though many cats would catch a lizard if the opportunity came up. Bartholomew moved towards the cat, which blinked idly at him and snuggled down next to its kittens.
"Well, boys, looks like I was misinformed about the feline content of this house," Ratigan said apologetically. Technically that was true; as far as he'd known, the cat was a threat. Apparently not. "I think we'd better leave."
The gang hurried out of the room, only too glad to be going. Ratigan waited to make sure they all got their share of the loot out safely, watching the cats as he did.
One particular kitten caught his eye; it was tiny and light brown, and shoved to the side by the others. A runt. It shuffled to find an unoccupied spot, and was pushed out of the way by its larger siblings. It mewed pitifully and pawed at its mother, who ignored it. Ratigan wasn't used to feeling pity, but he found himself watching the kitten. It was so small ... small enough for him to carry? He grinned to himself as an idea struck him.
"Ain't you comin', Professor?" asked Bill, peering back around the doorway.
"Oh, ah, you go on ahead. I'll ... wait here to make sure the cat doesn't follow," Ratigan said hurriedly. Bill, knowing better than to question, nodded and scurried off. Ratigan, moving as slowly and cautiously as he could, crept up to the cat's basket. The cat watched him, raising a paw in warning but not moving to use it. Slowly enough that his paws barely seemed to be moving at all, he reached towards the kittens.
As he grabbed the runt, the cat snarled and swung its paw down at him. The kitten was heavier than he had thought, but fright gave him the strength to fling it over his shoulder and flee for the door. The cat sniffed at the remaining kittens, then settled down, not caring about the runt; it probably would have died anyway. One less mouth to feed wasn't a problem.
When he got to the end of the landing and realised the cat wasn't following him, Ratigan put the kitten down with a sigh of relief. Even a runt kitten was huge to a rat. It'd take him a while to get it down the stairs, but hopefully it would pay off in the long term. It mewed in protest and headbutted him. Ratigan stroked the kitten's head, examining it. A female kitten, with sticklike legs and small potbelly, fur still short enough to be sticking out like a soft brush, and huge pale-golden eyes. She'd be a fine-looking animal when she'd been fed up a bit, but that was simply a nice bonus. He wasn't concerned that she was a runt. A runt could grow. With careful training, this sad little bundle could become a perfect living weapon ...
While Ratigan mused this over, the kitten looked up at him and mewed indignantly again.
Glancing around to ensure none of his followers had lagged behind to see him, Ratigan knelt down and threw his arms around the kitten's neck. "Awww."
Reply
Reply
Reply
Leave a comment