The missive from K.A.S.W. (Kitties Against Swingy-Walls) was short:
Three K.A.S.W. warriors have been taken hostage. They’re being held in a kennel believed to be at the bottom of an ocean trench, co-ordinates to follow. You must rescue them. May the Sacred ‘Nip-Mouse bless you.
It had been signed by Lenore, Feline Supreme of K.A.S.W. herself, and delivered by her personal messenger. Roswell immediately assembled her team of under-water specialists, the Mer-Kats, and as soon as the humans were looking the other way they slipped into the sewer system and made haste to where their submarine was docked.
As they approached the vessel Roswell sensed something was amiss. She hissed and arched her back as three Water Warriors pulled themselves out of the ocean and onto the dock, wielding spray-bottles. Lesser cats may have closed their eyes and fled at the thought of being squirted in the face, but Roswell and her Mer-Kats had undergone rigorous conditioning and stood their ground.
The Water Warriors were startled, giving Roswell a chance to strike. She leapt at the biggest one and bit his nose. He staggered backward into one of his fellows, knocking both of them into the water. The other Mer-Kats quickly drove the third back with their claws.
Within moments Roswell and her team were in the sub and hurtling towards the underwater kennel.
It didn’t take long to get there. Roswell climbed into her Merman-suit (which looked strikingly like Kyle Cassidy with gills) and launched from the side of the submarine.
She strolled into the kennel and announced, “I wish to adopt those kitties.” The suit translated for her.
After signing some paperwork, the cat-napped K.A.S.W. warriors were in her possession. She swam out of there quickly and was just entering the diving chamber when alarms went off behind her. Her cover blown, she screamed, “MERRROOOOOO!”
The sub took off at incredible speed, dodging several missile attacks as they returned to the surface. A pride of Special-Ops was waiting for them on the shore and escorted them to safety.
Mission accomplished, Roswell went home to take a nap.
2009-08-16 06:38 am (UTC)
Re: Roswell of K.A.S.W.
Roswell climbed into her Merman-suit (which looked strikingly like Kyle Cassidy with gills)
Due do my being remiss in my blog reading, this is all I've got...
Roswell wasn’t sure why she was the only one who realized that the new “fish” her humans brought home were actually mer-people. Then again, it made an odd kind of sense. Humans, she’d understood for a long time, lived in a bubble of denial about what was true in the world. Cats would have abandoned the entire species long ago if only they weren’t so amusing.
This was fun, though. You should do more things like this.
2009-08-15 02:36 am (UTC)
Roswell vs The Deep Ones
Is this 350 words? I have no idea. This is how long the story is. Hope I'm not too late.
Ever vigilant, Roswell, Cat Guardian of West Philadelphia, sat quietly in the dark on her screened back porch, waiting, watching. She had been feeling the subtle changes in the air, seeing the omens, tasting scents both new and very old. She knew it was coming soon, coming this very night. The stars were right.
She smiled ever so slightly, thinking of her dear human friends, blissfully sleeping in the house behind her. So far they had no clue to the events that were building, no idea of the doom that bubbled darkly, so very near... and Roswell was determined that they never would.
Suddenly, she heard it, faintly, barely audible, but growing louder, an ululation, a chanting of many voices from far away, and deep. It was a liquid sound of words in some eldritch tongue, a hideous gargling secret language from beneath the waves. Involuntarily she arched her back, every perfect black hair standing up on end, her tail puffed to a huge magnificence, as she saw the seemingly innocent garden pool in the yard begin to glow, the surface roiling as a fell portal activated and opened.
It was a matter of seconds for her to overcome her fear, unlatch the screen and leap out and under the porch structure, where, secretly hidden from prying (human) eyes rested a rare, virtually unknown, copy of the Nekonomicon, that ancient tome of forbidden and demonic cat-lore. Originally for dire, ancient evil, Roswell would now turn its purpose to good by reciting the spell to close the portal.
Hastily turning the worm-eaten, horrifyingly old pages with her delicate white paws, Roswell found the page she was looking for, then looked up as the first of them burst up through the surface of the pool. There are many names for them: sea-folk, mer-people, fish-men, deep ones... They rose up to the surface, chanting in their foul tongue, moonlight glinting on their wet, scaly skin, webbed hands, huge, bulging eyes, thick, blubbery lips. They seemed to share an unholy joy as they came.
For just a moment, Roswell froze, as if mesmerized by the spectacle, one she had thought, hoped, never to see. But then she collected herself and commenced her own ritual, growling and hissing out the strange and ancient words of the Nekonomicon, yowling the specific incantation, however strange to utter sounds that no cat had uttered since time immemorial. And with a rush, a huge splashing whirlpool of water, it was over. The deep ones were sucked back into their domain, and the portal closed. The water in the pool, though shallower, was calm once more.
Hours later, the Nekonomicon safely hidden once more, the porch screen undetectably re-latched against the night, Roswell curled up on the foot of her humans' bed and tried again to sleep. And once again, just as she drifted off, she cried out, leaping up suddenly to look around her. She knew it would be a long, long time before she would be able to blot out that last vision of the deep ones, as they clambered up from the pool, their huge, watery eyes gleaming, and as they chanted, they leaned forward, wet, webbed hands reaching out toward her, gargling out the words, "Here, kitty, kitty, kitty...!"
Roswell slammed her hand on the wheel of the Nautilus. It was bad enough that Nemo hadn't given her much more than a pat on the back and a 'Good luck' when he retired, but it was becoming quite apparent that the old bucket of bolts was no longer seaworthy. And, the "fishy people" were laughing at her.
Why she would have gone with an all feline crew, but in this economy you go with what you can afford.
“It's not as bad as it seems, you know,” said Kassandra, patting Roswell's furry back. “I haven't seen them for days.”
The words had barely escaped her lips when the Nautilus pitched hard to the left sending both Kassandra and Roswell to the floor. “We're lost for sure,” cried Roswell, dazed. She had landed on her feet, as always, but that didn't prevent her from pumping her head.
“Nonsense,” said Kassandra, with a fire greater than . “I am the Wreath-wearer. I did not go against my Father's wishes and return to the sea just to go down so soon in our journey without a fight. Is this not the Nautilus, the most feared vessel on the sea?”
“It is,” said Roswell, her ears back on her head. “It's just that he never gave me the manual.”
“Well, let's have a look,” said Kassandra, inspecting the controls. Each lever and switch was more beautiful than the next, luminescent as the day they were made. Except for two.
On the far right corner of the control panel was a tiny, spring loaded mouse. “What does this do?” said Kassandra, pointing to the right of the toy.
“What does what do?” said Roswell, her eyes glazing over. She reflexively batted at the wooden mouse.
“This one,” said Kassandra, pointing at the switch. “The one labeled On/Off.”
“I guess I never saw that one before,” said Roswell, using all of her willpower to ignore the switch's neighbor.
“I think old Nemo was playing one last trick on you,” said Kassandra, smiling. With a flick of her finger, the Nautilus was on its journey once more.
I pared down to 350, but I could have easily wrote 1,000. What a fun idea! I'm just under the wire I think, but understand I'm not on time. :D
Roswell paced by the aging stove, sniffing the air. The quiche was almost done, and she waited for the distinct smell. Roswell was the true cook of the house. She was proud of her abilities in the kitchen. Her skills include keeping rice from burning, knowing the difference between cake flour and all-purpose flour, and understanding that tofu should never be served alone.
She enjoyed her role, and she adored the scritches from her humans. Still, she knew a grander fate awaited her. It was out there in the world beyond the window. The world with loud cars and tail-grabbing children. She was scared, but today was her day to be brave.
She jumped out the door in a ferocious leap. She landed in a puddle. After a deafening meow and shaking of her paws, she padded onward. Next time I decide to be brave, she thought, I'll check the weather. The droplets fell in sheets. Roswell couldn't stay dry, let alone avoid puddles. She began to feel...odd.
She liked the water! Really liked it. She splashed through a nearby park. She discovered she could run and fly across the grass as if it were a slippery slide. She zoomed, like a luge, over a hill and into a muddy pond. She should have panicked. She didn't. To her surprise, she could swim. Something clicked. She drew a breath. Warm water tickled her throat, and it was okay. Roswell giggled.
Out of the murk, she saw gentle hands reaching towards her. Humans, but with fish tails. Thank goodness her humans had raised her as a vegan. They led her past algae clouds into the depths of the pond. A vast city stretched into the distance. Merfolk flitted by the hundreds along magical highways.
One of them spoke, “We've been waiting for you Roswell.”
“Yes, you belong here. Your mother was head of the finest culinary school in all of Pondalusa. She is gone, and you must take her place - if you are willing.”
Roswell grinned and said, “Of course I am. Where's the kitchen?”