[b:e315feb018][u:e315feb018]The Sewers, Somewhere Beneath The Streets Of Paris[/u:e315feb018][/b:e315feb018]

Things were settled, or rather things were as settled as they ever were. The cats chased the mice, the mice complained to Ratjan, Ratjan chased the cats. The awful devil cat had, apparently, retired from her usual tricks and no more parades of the local vermin were seen throwing themselves into the Seine, or behaving in other, equally unlikely and equally fatal ways. Perhaps she had left the city after the fight with the badger creature, or perhaps she had gained some measure of respect for Ratjan and his minions. Either way, it didn't matter much to Ratjan, who was simply content to lord it, once again, over the sewers without annoying interruptions.

It should have been a time of happiness, at least in rattish terms. The summer sun kept the water levels low, not flooding any of the nests in the lower pipework and the flock of tourists who entered the city at this time of year made for a cornucopian feast of interesting scraps and tidbits for Ratjan and his rattish fellows to engorge themselves. Things, however, were about to change. Rat Heaven would soon become Rat Hell and if Ratjan thought taking on a fluffy feline (albeit one with a full gamut of Toreador powers at her disposal) had been challenging, he was about to learn what a true challenge really was.

The rat slinked along the wall in Montparnasse Cemetery as it headed towards the grave of Jim Morrison, not that the rat had reason to know whose grave it was. He just liked the assorted flotsam left behind by the various scumbag two-leggers who seemed to pray, copulate, eat, smoke odd things, and light little flamey thingies on top of the stone monument. Today was no exception. What looked like the remains of Croque Supreme were smushed into the stonework surrounding the grave site. The rat nibbled on it happily until he smelled something odd. Well, maybe not ODD, but definately disturbing. Feline. The smell seemed to be coming from behind him and in front of him. No, the scent coming from in front of him was not feline. It was, well, he didn't know WHAT it was. He turned around behind him and looked up at a monument of a two legger with wings and her arms crossed in front of her like she was holding something. SHE WAS holding something, that something was a large dark calico Norwegian Forest Cat. He inhaled sharply but she wasn't looking at him, she was looking behind him past the grave of the two legger rockstar. Her green eyes flicked down to Todd, for that was the rat's name, and she actually tried to communicate to him. "Shhhhhhhh," she seemed to say. Actually she did say it, but in Parisian Feline. As rats and cats don't often speak to each other, Todd had no idea that was what she said. But as she didn't seem to be ready to poun..... no wait, now she was balling up and wiggling her hind quarters. OH SHIT.... she was going to pounce. Pounce she did, she sprang outwards. Todd closed his eyes and waited for the impact, then the claws, then the razor sharp teeth. After a second or two he opened one eye and saw that she had pounced OVER him and was now fighting something behind the monument to Jim Morrison, not that he knew that that was infact Jim Morrison's grave. But we've already been there. He poked his head around the corner and saw the big Norwegian rolling around fighting some weird permutation of a badger. He watched in awe as they fought and cringed slightly when the Norwegian ripped off the badger thingy's head after doing a spectacular somersault and a spinning back kick to its head. She picked up the thing's head and trotted off in the direction of the nearest sewer. Todd followed the cat and saw her fluffly tail disappear down into the sewer. A moment later she reemerged empty mouthed. She looked straight at Todd and then walked at him and passed him by without touching him in any way.

Todd couldn't believe his luck. He was pretty convinced that the fluffy tailed cat had been the demon feline that had caused the rodent population so much trouble recently. Yet, somehow she had left him alone, in fact, she had made a big point of leaving him alone. He ran, didn't walk, to the lair of Ratjan Stan, excitedly telling him in a series of ratty squeaks about his escape.

Ratjan, led by Todd, headed to the scene. The disgusting badger thing's head was in the sewers where Measha had left it. The head reminded him of that awful creature which had invaded the sewers before, were there more of them? Ratjan could only guess that the cat was trying to send a message. He would need to speak to her. Fortunately for Ratjan, he had always had a knack of talking to animals of all types, using the animalism his inherited Nosferatu blood provided (not, of course that he knew it). Very few of his elite guard remained, but those he gathered together and began to follow the scent trail in pursuit of the infamous moggy.

As it turned out, she hadn't gotten far. From across the graveyard came the sounds of battle. Two more of the badger/field mouse things were fighting with Measha. They were using stand off tactics, so that each time Measha attacked one, it would spring away and the other would move in to engage her. With a twitch of his whiskers, Ratjan cloaked his party in invisibility.

Measha was beginning to tire and seriously considering making a run for it. Why couldn't these things just lay down and die like they were supposed to? Suddenly one of them fell to the ground, howling in pain, as a group of rats appeared, teeth embedded into it's legs, hamstringing it. Measha took her opportunity and sprang at the second musteline, sinking her teeth into it's throat as she raked her back claws down it's soft underbelly. This was much more like proper behaviour for one of her prey. She turned for the other, but the rats seemed to have finished it off without her. In fact, wasn't that that awful rat creature that seemed to lead them?

Measha and Ratjan stood for a moment regarding each other. Once again they had fought off a common threat, this was not normal for either of them. Measha's instinct was to continue her killing spree with the rest of the rats, Ratjan's was to take on the cat and his guards were ready to make for the nearest rat run. Still, they held their ground.

Ratjan looked to the dead were-badgers and then to Measha and raised a whisker in enquiry.

"Can you understand me?" asked Measha in slow Parisian Feline. She sat down on her fuzzy haunches and cleaned the licked both sides of her muzzle makign a great show of her teeth in the process.

Ratjan eyed the teeth being displayed by the demon feline. He didn't much understand the caterwauling, however slowly pronounced, but his nosferatu blood allowed him to get to the jist of the question.

Similarly, his reply, in Parisian Gutter Rat, made little sense to Measha, yet somewhere in her head, the translation of his affirmative came through as clear as day.

"I can understand pretty well any animal." Ratjan looked vaguely surprised. "Can't you?"

Measha narrowed her eyes into menacing slits and let out a low feline growl. "Don't toy with me Mutant. I detect that you need me as much as I need you."

She stood up and circled Ratjan, who sat there impudently. He didn't even bother to turn his head to follow the demon kitty's progress.

"There will be time for personal feuds after our common foe is eliminated," began Measha. "I see your little rodent spies following me around and do nothing. Nor do my minions lift a paw to harm them."

"None of which would be necessary if you behaved in a natural manner. A parade of mice throwing themselves into the river attracts unecessary attention. The two-leggers come with their exterminators to deal with the "plague of rodents" and the bagman comes to round up the stray cats. I'm the mutant am I? I, if nothing else, act like that which I am. Oh yes, you need to be watched, you started this... feud... as you call it. I may look disfigured, but your disfigurements are hidden upon the inside."

Measha hissed and prepared to pounce. How dare this hideous rat thing describe her as disfigured. She was beautiful, clean, with sharp claws and strong white teeth.

Ratjan caught the hint, twitched his whiskers and vanished from view. Measha growled, prey denied.

"Can't you keep your temper for 2 seconds, you stupid cat." Screamed the voice in her mind, as she felt Ratjan's influence begin to take control of her faculties. With much concentration, she managed to resist.

"You want the spies taken away, you want to fight in common cause. Then fine. Your move. I'll play that game, if you can convince me of your sincerity."

((a very enjoyable thread :) Keep it going :)

((mind if i hop in??))

The C-130 circled Marseille. It's cargo full of feline commandos lined up as the yellow light turned on. Suddenly a green light turned on. A mouse wearing a flack jacket and helmet with little mousey muff style hearing protectors shouted in a high pitched squeek, "GO GO GO."

Out went the line of kitty spetsnaz troopers. A long haired Norwegian Forest Cat was the 10th one out. Minute cat head shaped parachutes opened up in turn as the invasion force was inserted into the Southern French Countryside.

Closer and closer came the ground. Measha tucked and rolled as her four paws hit the ground, just as she was instructed in drop school, or as the cats called it affectionately, "Litter Camp." She pulled off her parachute and straps and took off her little kitty goggles and headed down alone towards Marseille to join the "real world" of vampires in the much acclaimed and lauded, "Whispers of Shal Ka-Mense" thread which as been recently been nominated for 17 Academy Awards, and the Pulitzer Prize.

(( MORE MORE))