Chapter Text
Today is yet another sunny day that shines upon the Zeiss Central Factory, the one place in the kingdom in which its greatest and most brilliants minds come together to design and create the next marvels of Orbal technology. Speaking of the former, on the steel-clad building’s fourth floor, atop a bed in the infirmary, one of them is slowly preparing his awakening. Fully stretched out from one end of the bed to the other on his side, Antoine’s fluffy ear twitches in response to his increasingly woken state. A yawn slips through his mouth as he forces his upper body up into a side-loaf position. He blinks a few times, batting away the fatigue with a click of his tongue, taking in his surroundings both visually and auditorily.
The very first thing he notices is how calm the atmosphere is. Considering how panicked the fleshy bipeds were last night, this relative return to tranquility is not unwelcome. Well, it might also be because his tenant’s out at the moment. It certainly helps to keep the noise on the down-low, because apart from the far and few familiar and not footsteps coming from the corridor, this place is as peaceful as it can be.
With this great start of noon at hand, Antoine yawns another time as he begins his routine to prepare for his most arduous and intellectually intense task of the day. Standing up, he stretches both forward and backward, awakening his muscles from their sleep with all the grace one could expect of a cat with a severe case of bed hair. Having taken notice his lapse in attire decorum, he takes the time to clean his beautiful cream-auburn mane, strand by strand. Once he is satisfied with his presentability, Antoine finally turns around to tackle said task with all the delicacy and finesse it requires:
Changing spot by a few minutiae reges, Antoine curls on himself and returns to sleep.
…
The sound of footsteps approaching the door reach his Intelligence-Division-worthy parabolic wave-tapping devices known as his ‘ears’, which promptly twitches in the direction of the door to identify the newcomer by his foot soundprint. To his surprise, the fleshy biped about to enter is not the one lodging here. On the one hand, relief floods his body over the fact he won’t be chased off have to graciously relinquish his resting spot to a snotty smelly hairless biped. However… it also begs the question. Why is this fleshy interloper breaking the routine?
The door opens with a depressurizing click as it usually does, letting the gray-furred biped in. Opening one eye to observe and letting his muzzle run free, Antoine finds himself almost assaulted by the nervousness he exudes. Sweat is pouring out his every pore as he looks around uneasily, his gaze eventually settling down on the bed in relief
“… əʊ, ɪts ˈəʊnli juː hɪə, Antoine. θæŋk ðə ˈɡɒdɛs… ”
Hearing his name spoken, Antoine lets his own tension leak away before looking away from the man in acknowledgment. The biped is probably looking for the tenant, and is upset he hasn’t found her yet. A sentiment he can echo and understand considering the last time his bowl has been refilled was eons ago! Almost TWO HOURS if you can believe it! Oh, the nerve of that one… Still, he’ll stay his tongue for now. If the biped is looking for her, chances are he’ll forget to tell her to feed him when he eventually finds her; no hair outside, no brain inside. He prepares himself to return to his beauty sleep as the intruder leaves the—
Antoine raises his head up in surprise. Sure, the room’s door has closed itself, but not after the biped left. In fact, said biped is closing in deeper into the room, somehow even more nervous than before. Tail flapping slowly but harshly against the sheets, the feline cautiously observes the trespasser as he rummages through the back shelf and picks up a— Wait a minute.
“hɑːˈhɑː! faʊnd ðɛm!”
Irises dilatating and pupils narrowing, the mighty cat glares at the biped with ferocity. He recognizes the item in his hand, not just by how it looks, but by how it smells. Oh this smell, it’s one he’d never forget in his lifetime. One day, he’d wandered on curiously next to one of those before the dumb dumb squishy pink thing holding it lit it on freaking fire, and the smell it produced, YUCK! It’s the worst thing he has ever tasted, to the point where it made his head spin. And you know the worst thing? He had to go to the bad white-coated vermin demon bipeds who always, always prick him with syringes! Easily the worst day of his life.
“Nyao~~n…”
Unfortunately, his muscles are way too relaxed in his current position, meaning he cannot leap at the biped and bite these horrors away from his hand. So, he does the next best thing. The low growl of warning he sends his way are successful in attracting the smelly intruder’s attention, as he sheepishly turns back to the feline.
“hɑːˈhɑː, ˈsɒri. aɪ fəˈɡɒt juː wɜː ðeə, Antoine.” His expression morphs back into his previous one of fear and nervousness. “ʌ… juː wəʊnt tɛl Miriam, raɪt? aɪ-aɪ ˈprɒmɪs ə fʊl ˈbɒtᵊl ɒv milk ɪf juː dəʊnt tɛl hɜː!”
Hearing the magic word makes the cat perk up on instinct, almost agreeing to look away and forget the transgression. However, as the biped reaches down to pet his head, Antoine moves away a few reges back to convey his answer: ‘no deal’. That’s right, his distaste for those is so bad he would even refuse milk over it. (That and the knowledge Miriam will give him some if he tells her, so he wins either way.)
“əʊ, ˈbrʌðə… weɪt. wɒt æm aɪ stɪl ˈduːɪŋ hɪə?! aɪ niːd tuː ɡɛt aʊt bɪˈfɔː ʃiː kʌmz bæk!”
With those last words, the biped bolts out of the room, in a fashion Antoine guesses is supposed to be fast and discreet. Well, in his own unbiased opinion, the biped’s form is about as bad as his taste in food and perfume. But he won’t let that bother him for now. His tenant/roommate will come back eventually, and he’ll just tell her then – provided, of course, that she grants him adequate compensation for his time. For now, he has a busy schedule which he certainly needs to get on with. After a single yawn, Antoine is back to sleep, curled in the same position as before.
Many hours later, a new trio of fleshy bipeds came into the room to meet his tenant. Though he would deny it, Antoine had been quite apprehensive at their arrival, especially at the second of the two with unfamiliar scents whose steps are as silent as the night shadows. Thankfully though, the third person completing the trio happens to be the best petter in the entire building, which means the other two simply cannot be evil.
This very hypothesis was immediately confirmed when they brought not just milk, but FRESH milk as a bribe
an offering in exchange for his services in finding the one responsible for the theft of the hellspawns known as “ˌsɪɡᵊrˈɛts”. And just like that, these strangers shot up in his esteem even higher than Miriam, the ungrateful fleshy thing who refused to bring any form of acceptable sustenance with her. Or, they would have, had they not mocked or been doubtful about his ability and intelligence (he could hear it in their tone, the vile bipeds!) Still, milk is milk, and one should be thankful for this gift of whatever god it is that brought it upon this plane of existence. Probably a cow or a goat.
“Nyaa~~go!”
With the deal sealed, Antoine gathers his merry crew and leads them out of the infirmary as he prepares to track down the thief and get him punished for the misdeeds he has surely already begun committing. But as he glances around in the corridor… he becomes aware of a slight obstacle in their path, or, as some would call it, a barrier they need to get over before proceeding.
He has no idea where the biped went!
Putting his snout to good use, he checks the air around him and… nothing. Clearly, the devious criminal somehow managed to cover up his tracks! That, or he didn’t light it in the corridor. Which is a problem, because that means he can’t track down where he went.
“Antoine?”
When the black-furred ninja calls out his name, he refuses to look his direction with a huff and puff, hoping no one would notice his miscalculation. Fortunately for their investigation, and unfortunately for his pride, the bipeds understood anyway, and ended up bringing him to about everyone throughout the compound to check if they were the thief. At least they didn’t take these “ˈɛlɪveɪtə” thingis and instead chose to take the stairs, else he’d have required another bottle of milk in compensation.
“Nyaya~~go.”
His muzzle twitches, and with just this first sniff, he’s practically sure of it. This is the place where the evildoer is. The foul odor, while not intense enough for a biped to sense, certainly tingles his nostrils unpleasantly. Luckily, his co-investigators follow his senses into the room and— Found him.
“Nyaa~~o.”
The feline feels almost smug, seeing a small bead of sweat rolling down the biped’s temple. However, it would seem this is where the hairlesses’ intelligence show their limit, as they do not come to the immediate and obvious conclusion one should draw from the utterly overpowering— oh, right. Bipeds can’t smell. Seeing the culprit’s pathetic attempts at playing dumb, Antoine sighs before doubling down, making it as obvious as possible so that even their squishy brains can understand what’s going down.
“Nyaa~~o. NYAA~~O!”
At long last, the trio puts two and two together as they finally ‘pin down’ their ‘suspect’. Tail low and following the scent to its origin, Antoine walks toward the other door in the room. Checking backwards to see that this thief’s attention is unwittingly diverted by the trio of bipeds investigating him, he paws it open and…
“…?”
He attempts a second time, putting his paw to the door while scratching lightly… And it still doesn’t open.
“Myaon?!”
That door… does not open. That door. Does not. Open. THAT. DOOR. DOES. NOT. OPEN! This is almost enough to get Antoine to fly off his hinges. This… this CRIMINAL, does not only smoke those “ˌsɪɡᵊrˈɛts”, but also locks his doors?! What kind of heartless monster must one be to lock doors in a building with a cat?! He does not like resorting to this, but this hairless smelly demon must be evicted at once and on the double. If this kind of mindset was allowed to fester for too long, who knows what kind of deranged behavior he might bring to this haven! For all he knows, Antoine might have been on the verge of loosing his bathroom participation privileges! The thought shakes him so much he nearly jumps when his fellow investigators join him up to this door, having finished interrogating the culprit. Right… they— they wouldn’t do that… These were his friends. They game him milk. He can trust them.
So, with one last paw to the door, and with as much determination in his voice as he can muster, Antoine puts the final nail in the villain’s proverbial and hopefully actual coffin.
“Nyaa~go.”
Well, in the end, the feline’s is forced to gracefully accepts this criminal be granted pardon for his crime. After a long and completely gibberish
unimportant and inconsequential discussion between the hairless, it would appear the monster actually regrets his actions and was simply pushed by the Devil (whoever this is, probably a canine of sorts) to commit his crimes. While not the ending he would have preferred, the additional bottle of milk given as bonus for his wholehearted contribution
complete resolution of this crime made the metaphorical pill easier to swallow.
Especially since they are taking steps to avoid another such occurrence happening in the future by burning – not lighting on fire – what remains of those impending doomsday instruments with the help of the incinerator down in the basement. Listening to the cries of anguish of the many slaves of the puff as they watch the proceedings provides the feline grand satisfaction and haughtiness. After all, he knows that, unlike them, there exists no leaf in this world which could rend him a stoned piece of fleshy limbs whose begging is as humiliating for them as it is satisfying to deny.
So, with his lungs saved, his stomach satisfied, and his spirit reinvigorated by the feeling of justice well served, Antoine sets off on new trails to find a new resting place in the sun.