Post by Brownie on Apr 14, 2018 0:34:19 GMT -5
yet another of my infamous rambles. This time in the wff instead of over at otw. Consisting of my neighborhood super spies and the agents of CLAW in a new adventure against another big bad. Probably will be expanded upon. Updates whenever I have muse, plot tbd, characters and worldbuilding below, y'all know the drill by now.
She couldn't understand what he was trying to tell her. The words blurred, wobbling through her ears without making sentences or thoughts, just mumbles of sound without any meaning tied to them. He paused, sensing her confusion.
"I'm sorry," she said, flicking her ears. The tom shook his head and looked to the brick wall, as if the answer to their problems lay hidden within the mortared patterns. Suddenly he jumped to his paws, flicking his tail in an invitation to follow. Hesitant but curious, she trotted down the sidewalk after him. He took a winding path through the narrow streets, past doors and signs with curving script and pastel blue ribbons. Luckily the tom seemed to be taking her through to more crowded places: curving through the legs of people as they carried bags of produce and waved cameras. She even saw a few feline faces poking through alleyways and lounging under cafe tables. The grey tom looked confident as he made his turns and she tried to keep close as to not lose him, though her paws were tiring at the fast pace he set.
She heard him mutter a few words under his breath as he wiggled his shoulders through the bars of a metal fence surrounding a cafe patio. As he stepped paw onto the premises, a coal-colored tomcat raised his head from atop a nearby table, but the grey tom she followed here ignored him as he slipped between the tables and chair legs and into the open door of the shop. She felt a tingle as she passed the doorway; a fuzz of electricity that set her prickling. The tom finally came to a stop by the side of a glass display case, showing off golden pastries topped with dripping frostings, gesturing that she should wait in an alcove beside the windows. She watched as the grey tom slipped around the glass case and through a door slightly propped open behind it.
Odd, she thought, looking out over the patio. It was quaint: the cobbles a light tan while metal latticed tables and chairs stood black in contrast along with the metal picket fence surrounding the terrace. The street was thinner than she was accustomed to, built for only the slimmest of cars running in only one direction. People walked along the other side of the street, beside buildings with colorful balconies propped over the sides, most with a fair assortment of plants hanging over the edges. The black tom still lay on one of the tables, tail flicking. She saw the glint of green as he turned and realized he was keeping an eye on her through the window. There was a dull thump from within the store, startling the she-cat into turning around.
The door behind the counter had closed. The grey tom turned the corner of the display case, a thin white a ginger patched she-cat peeking over his shoulder, yellow eyes wide. They spoke a few words between them in the language she didn't understand as they approached. She moved aside to share the light from the window and the white she-cat rolled into it with a purr. The grey tom glanced at her but remained standing under one of the chairs beside the window, yet from the little time the she-cat had known him, she was expecting the gesture. He didn't seem like the appreciative type and now that she could get a better look at his features, he definitely looked annoyed. "You speak English, oui?"
"Yes," she said, relieved that somecat here could understand her.
The tom interjected and the she-cat sat up with a yawn, picking dust from her fur with a paw. "The senior agent wonders why CLAW would not send another proficient in our tongue."
Even in English, these cats hardly made any sense. "CLAW? They're with the Union right? I'm just a --what do they call them-- tourist. Visiting."
The white she-cat tipped her head and spoke to the grey tom. She had obviously been taken here so the white she-cat could act as a translator. The grey tom gave a hiss as he pushed his paw towards the two she-cats, speaking a word as a green light blinked on his leg and a projection appeared on the ground, slowly rotating between the three cats. Much to her surprise, it was a picture of her: tortoiseshell grey with her own yellow eyes looking back at her, even the nick from her left ear she had gotten when she was a kit. Even so, she was not part of any feline government agency. She shook her head, "there must be another cat that looks like me--"
"Kenzie," the grey tom said, prompting the projector to show the text as it scrolled under her image: her name, her mother's name, the flight number she had used to travel across the sea from Pennsylvania, more information she hardly remembered but that followed too closely to herself that she couldn't possibly deny it.
The white she-cat tapped the projection as it played on the tiled floor, curving the text over her paw. "This is you, oui?"
Kenzie had to nod.
"And you claim to have no affiliations with CLAW? At least knowingly?" Kenzie nodded again, more confused than ever. "It is rare they send civilians to carry secure sources," the white she-cat said quietly, as if to herself. She shared a glance with the grey tom, who shrugged and retracted the projection as she stood, stretching in the sunlight. "As it stands, then, I'm afraid introductions must wait until we are in a more secure location. If you would please follow us?"
Kenzie looked over her shoulder, suddenly aware of the quickly falling sun. "I can't. I'm with my aunt Ezbet --well more a family friend I suppose-- and she is probably already worrying for me--"
"Ezbet?" The white she-cat paused. "Calico, blind blue eye?"
"Yes?"
She spoke a few words to the grey tom, who chuckled and left the shop, tail flicking. "She won't be worrying for you." Kenzie bristled, fear starting to twist in her gut. Who was she to trust these shady cats? An idiot.
"Ah, no." The white she-cat corrected with a laugh. "She's a colleague, is all. C'est juste une petite coincidence. Her place isn't much out of our way if you'd like to see her, if that would make you more comfortable."
At mention of her aunt, Kenzie realized with embarassment that she couldn't remember the way back to Ezbet's. The winding narrow streets were far too different from her home and the grey tom had moved too quickly through the crowds of feet for her to remember. She looked outside the window where the tops of the buildings were just about stained orange from the setting sun, the pretty but admittingly unfamiliar street lined with shadows below. The grey tom was sharing words with the black tom on the table and she realized that she had always been watched, almost guarded, by these cats. The thought made her fur prickle, but they had plenty of opportunities to kidnap her if they had wanted, which was slightly reassuring. Except hadn't they said CLAW sent her with --what? she didn't know, but it sounded important. What if these cats were using her to get to it? Were they the same cats who were supposed to receive it? Kenzie wasn't part of CLAW, but she knew it was important to the safety of all the cats of north america and she didn't want to-- what? expose their secrets? She didn't know, but she thought that would be very, very bad. It was all very confusing.
The white she-cat clicked a claw against the tile; Kenzie had been keeping her waiting. She took a breath and let her fur settle. "I would like to see Ezbet." The she-cat smiled and walked across the terrace, slipping between the bars easier than the grey tom or even Kenzie had done earlier that day. She noticed the grey tom followed some distance behind, sniffing at buildings and plants as they followed the narrow road to an alley, the alley to another road and so on as they wove through the city, hopefully on the path to Ezbet.
- - -
//needs to feel more quick and nerves and turmoil is a good word
"Jean here, I have the flowers," the radio crackled softly, hardly audible for anyone who wasn't listening for it. Fortunately, Louis was waiting for the message.
Unfortunately, however, a message from Jean was the last thing the white-and-ginger tom wanted to hear. He scrambled for the receiver, pushing his way past a group of cats frantically working their way through files on holograms, pulling information out of the databanks as quickly as they could and onto a different server. Silent Paw was here.
Louis shrugged on a mic and pushed down the transmitter, ears quivering with nerves as the tom forced his voice to be casual in case the communications were compromised. "Hey, Jean, my aunt would love some flowers. You can stop by and drop them off there."
"You don't want to see them first?"
"Nah, we've been having quite a problem with bugs lately. Wouldn't want to ruin the flowers." Louis grinned. He might not be a field worker, but he could code a message on the fly. He was certain Jean would read through the code, it wasn't that difficult to figure out when both of them knew what they were talking about. "I thought I told you not to use this channel out of work." Hopefully that would throw Silent Paw off, even with Jean's formal introduction.
"Sorry, pal, won't happen again." The ginger tom could hardly hold back a laugh. It must have killed Jean to call him pal. They couldn't risk a formal closure to the communications, meaning Louis would have to wait on the radio until the situation had been resolved. He sat against the panel, tail flicking, looking over the turmoil the communications room was in from the Silent Paw alert. It looked as though they were quick enough and sly enough to whisk away any important information, but the fact that anyone could get this deep into FEL security was terrifying to anyone.
Louis looked to the receiver, sticking out from a panel of buttons and levers that all seemed old and out of date but served as the fallback radio systems for the FEL. He hoped Jean wouldn't run into any trouble, but then again the dark tomcat had always been one of FEL's best agents. If anyone could deal with changes in the field, it was Jean. "So I guess that means I have to deal with the problems here," Louis muttered, scanning the room. But he was stuck monitoring the radio, which was probably a good thing as he realized the commotion was starting to become orderly as someone up above entered the room, throwing cats into one job or another and pulling chaos into discipline once more. The sooner they found this Silent Paw, the sooner things would go back to normal. Maybe then he'd be able to ask out that pretty she-cat in transcripts, he mused. Maybe.
She couldn't understand what he was trying to tell her. The words blurred, wobbling through her ears without making sentences or thoughts, just mumbles of sound without any meaning tied to them. He paused, sensing her confusion.
"I'm sorry," she said, flicking her ears. The tom shook his head and looked to the brick wall, as if the answer to their problems lay hidden within the mortared patterns. Suddenly he jumped to his paws, flicking his tail in an invitation to follow. Hesitant but curious, she trotted down the sidewalk after him. He took a winding path through the narrow streets, past doors and signs with curving script and pastel blue ribbons. Luckily the tom seemed to be taking her through to more crowded places: curving through the legs of people as they carried bags of produce and waved cameras. She even saw a few feline faces poking through alleyways and lounging under cafe tables. The grey tom looked confident as he made his turns and she tried to keep close as to not lose him, though her paws were tiring at the fast pace he set.
She heard him mutter a few words under his breath as he wiggled his shoulders through the bars of a metal fence surrounding a cafe patio. As he stepped paw onto the premises, a coal-colored tomcat raised his head from atop a nearby table, but the grey tom she followed here ignored him as he slipped between the tables and chair legs and into the open door of the shop. She felt a tingle as she passed the doorway; a fuzz of electricity that set her prickling. The tom finally came to a stop by the side of a glass display case, showing off golden pastries topped with dripping frostings, gesturing that she should wait in an alcove beside the windows. She watched as the grey tom slipped around the glass case and through a door slightly propped open behind it.
Odd, she thought, looking out over the patio. It was quaint: the cobbles a light tan while metal latticed tables and chairs stood black in contrast along with the metal picket fence surrounding the terrace. The street was thinner than she was accustomed to, built for only the slimmest of cars running in only one direction. People walked along the other side of the street, beside buildings with colorful balconies propped over the sides, most with a fair assortment of plants hanging over the edges. The black tom still lay on one of the tables, tail flicking. She saw the glint of green as he turned and realized he was keeping an eye on her through the window. There was a dull thump from within the store, startling the she-cat into turning around.
The door behind the counter had closed. The grey tom turned the corner of the display case, a thin white a ginger patched she-cat peeking over his shoulder, yellow eyes wide. They spoke a few words between them in the language she didn't understand as they approached. She moved aside to share the light from the window and the white she-cat rolled into it with a purr. The grey tom glanced at her but remained standing under one of the chairs beside the window, yet from the little time the she-cat had known him, she was expecting the gesture. He didn't seem like the appreciative type and now that she could get a better look at his features, he definitely looked annoyed. "You speak English, oui?"
"Yes," she said, relieved that somecat here could understand her.
The tom interjected and the she-cat sat up with a yawn, picking dust from her fur with a paw. "The senior agent wonders why CLAW would not send another proficient in our tongue."
Even in English, these cats hardly made any sense. "CLAW? They're with the Union right? I'm just a --what do they call them-- tourist. Visiting."
The white she-cat tipped her head and spoke to the grey tom. She had obviously been taken here so the white she-cat could act as a translator. The grey tom gave a hiss as he pushed his paw towards the two she-cats, speaking a word as a green light blinked on his leg and a projection appeared on the ground, slowly rotating between the three cats. Much to her surprise, it was a picture of her: tortoiseshell grey with her own yellow eyes looking back at her, even the nick from her left ear she had gotten when she was a kit. Even so, she was not part of any feline government agency. She shook her head, "there must be another cat that looks like me--"
"Kenzie," the grey tom said, prompting the projector to show the text as it scrolled under her image: her name, her mother's name, the flight number she had used to travel across the sea from Pennsylvania, more information she hardly remembered but that followed too closely to herself that she couldn't possibly deny it.
The white she-cat tapped the projection as it played on the tiled floor, curving the text over her paw. "This is you, oui?"
Kenzie had to nod.
"And you claim to have no affiliations with CLAW? At least knowingly?" Kenzie nodded again, more confused than ever. "It is rare they send civilians to carry secure sources," the white she-cat said quietly, as if to herself. She shared a glance with the grey tom, who shrugged and retracted the projection as she stood, stretching in the sunlight. "As it stands, then, I'm afraid introductions must wait until we are in a more secure location. If you would please follow us?"
Kenzie looked over her shoulder, suddenly aware of the quickly falling sun. "I can't. I'm with my aunt Ezbet --well more a family friend I suppose-- and she is probably already worrying for me--"
"Ezbet?" The white she-cat paused. "Calico, blind blue eye?"
"Yes?"
She spoke a few words to the grey tom, who chuckled and left the shop, tail flicking. "She won't be worrying for you." Kenzie bristled, fear starting to twist in her gut. Who was she to trust these shady cats? An idiot.
"Ah, no." The white she-cat corrected with a laugh. "She's a colleague, is all. C'est juste une petite coincidence. Her place isn't much out of our way if you'd like to see her, if that would make you more comfortable."
At mention of her aunt, Kenzie realized with embarassment that she couldn't remember the way back to Ezbet's. The winding narrow streets were far too different from her home and the grey tom had moved too quickly through the crowds of feet for her to remember. She looked outside the window where the tops of the buildings were just about stained orange from the setting sun, the pretty but admittingly unfamiliar street lined with shadows below. The grey tom was sharing words with the black tom on the table and she realized that she had always been watched, almost guarded, by these cats. The thought made her fur prickle, but they had plenty of opportunities to kidnap her if they had wanted, which was slightly reassuring. Except hadn't they said CLAW sent her with --what? she didn't know, but it sounded important. What if these cats were using her to get to it? Were they the same cats who were supposed to receive it? Kenzie wasn't part of CLAW, but she knew it was important to the safety of all the cats of north america and she didn't want to-- what? expose their secrets? She didn't know, but she thought that would be very, very bad. It was all very confusing.
The white she-cat clicked a claw against the tile; Kenzie had been keeping her waiting. She took a breath and let her fur settle. "I would like to see Ezbet." The she-cat smiled and walked across the terrace, slipping between the bars easier than the grey tom or even Kenzie had done earlier that day. She noticed the grey tom followed some distance behind, sniffing at buildings and plants as they followed the narrow road to an alley, the alley to another road and so on as they wove through the city, hopefully on the path to Ezbet.
- - -
//needs to feel more quick and nerves and turmoil is a good word
"Jean here, I have the flowers," the radio crackled softly, hardly audible for anyone who wasn't listening for it. Fortunately, Louis was waiting for the message.
Unfortunately, however, a message from Jean was the last thing the white-and-ginger tom wanted to hear. He scrambled for the receiver, pushing his way past a group of cats frantically working their way through files on holograms, pulling information out of the databanks as quickly as they could and onto a different server. Silent Paw was here.
Louis shrugged on a mic and pushed down the transmitter, ears quivering with nerves as the tom forced his voice to be casual in case the communications were compromised. "Hey, Jean, my aunt would love some flowers. You can stop by and drop them off there."
"You don't want to see them first?"
"Nah, we've been having quite a problem with bugs lately. Wouldn't want to ruin the flowers." Louis grinned. He might not be a field worker, but he could code a message on the fly. He was certain Jean would read through the code, it wasn't that difficult to figure out when both of them knew what they were talking about. "I thought I told you not to use this channel out of work." Hopefully that would throw Silent Paw off, even with Jean's formal introduction.
"Sorry, pal, won't happen again." The ginger tom could hardly hold back a laugh. It must have killed Jean to call him pal. They couldn't risk a formal closure to the communications, meaning Louis would have to wait on the radio until the situation had been resolved. He sat against the panel, tail flicking, looking over the turmoil the communications room was in from the Silent Paw alert. It looked as though they were quick enough and sly enough to whisk away any important information, but the fact that anyone could get this deep into FEL security was terrifying to anyone.
Louis looked to the receiver, sticking out from a panel of buttons and levers that all seemed old and out of date but served as the fallback radio systems for the FEL. He hoped Jean wouldn't run into any trouble, but then again the dark tomcat had always been one of FEL's best agents. If anyone could deal with changes in the field, it was Jean. "So I guess that means I have to deal with the problems here," Louis muttered, scanning the room. But he was stuck monitoring the radio, which was probably a good thing as he realized the commotion was starting to become orderly as someone up above entered the room, throwing cats into one job or another and pulling chaos into discipline once more. The sooner they found this Silent Paw, the sooner things would go back to normal. Maybe then he'd be able to ask out that pretty she-cat in transcripts, he mused. Maybe.