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Art by https://www.furaffinity.net/user/muder/
...
*knock-knock*
A knock on the door.
*KNOCK-KNOCK*
An impatient knock.
Creighton Bijou was in the middle of his dinner; a small bowl of leftover ramen he had heated up after a visit to a new restaurant in town; said to have had good reviews. Bijou didn't need to eat anymore, but still, it was nice to try new things; after all, he still had his tastebuds. It'd be a shame to have them go to waste.
*KNOCK-KNOCK*
*SIGH*
Creighton sighed, but he didn't move. He simply ate another bite of his noodles before slurping down the broth.
He didn't do so quickly. He took his time, he went at his own pace. Impatient or not, whoever it was would wait.
They would wait as he finished his dinner, cleaned his plate and utensils, dried them up, and put them away. Only then would he go to see who it was at the door.
...
*Click*
Cream unlocked the door and stood back. He had a feeling that whoever it was wasn't gonna be gentle with his door.
*SLAM*
And true to his gut, he was right. They entered his hotel room hastily and swiftly, men all dressed in black padding and holding MP5k smgs. Their reflective masks prevented him from seeing their faces.
Had he still had fear, he'd have fallen to his knees with his hands on his head; nowadays, his fear was long dead.
"Creighton Bijou," one of them said; the only one not wearing a mask. Human.
"Is that a problem?" he asked.
"I'm afraid so." the human confirmed.
He fished around in his pocket until he found himself a badge, complete with photo I.D. and information next to it.
"FBI," he said, grinning smugly. "You're under arrest for selling illegal merchandise,"
Clearly, he was talking about his computers, which he had been making and selling to random people with deep pockets for easy money. Said money was the money he had been living off of. Now it seemed someone wanted him to stop his business, or maybe wanted to strongarm him in order to exploit it.
Either way, it didn't matter to him. Creighton had been given enough time to read the man's badge, and despite the weapons pointed at his body and potentially ruining his clothes, he had nothing to fear.
"Your badge is fake," he said flatly.
The human's smile faded.
"W...w-what?" he said; the feline's unafraid accusation caught him off-guard. "No, it's not!"
"Yes, it is,"
Almost too fast to be seen, Creighton snatched the badge and held his finger up to some of the text.
"Don't get me wrong, it's very convincing and whatnot, but your I.D. number's been shifted to 10 digits with two letters mixed in at the end of the year," he explained, pointing to various parts of the text.
The ones wearing masks all looked at each other.
"Not to mention your seal is from last month," he said, pointing at that as well.
Creighton dropped the badge and folded his arms. In truth, he had his robotic brain to thank for those revelations. It made it quite easy access to various parts of the web and provide for him information both accessible and inaccessible to average people, granting data and knowledge most could only dream of.
Add that to his brain being able to think faster than most computers, and his finding out of their fraudulence came quite quickly.
The human pinched the bridge of his nose out of frustration; clearly, he wasn't expecting this from him.
"Somebody grab him? Please?"
One of them nodded and moved in to hold him by the arms.
*WHOCK*
On what was pretty much reflex at this point, Creighton elbowed him in the face, breaking his mask and his nose underneath.
"Ruben!" One guy said.
Creighton looked at the man who said that. Then, he took Ruben's gun:
*TITITITITITITITITITITI*
And shot him dead.
"THE FUCK!!!?" the human said.
"I DON--SHOOT HIM!!! SHOOT HIM!!!"
Cream locked elbows with Ruben and forced him to turn and face the other shooters. Creighton, meanwhile, was back-to-back with him.
*TITITITITITITITITITITITITITI*
*TITITITITITITITITITITITITITI*
*TITITITITITITITITITITITITITI*
*TITITITITITITITITITITITITITI*
*POW-POW-POW-POW-POW-POW*
They all opened fire, including the human, who used a colt python revolver instead of an SMG.
When the shooting stopped, Creighton allowed Ruben's body to hit the floor. His padding eventually gave way to the bullets, but his flesh did not. Creighton's body was unharmed.
"You almost ruined my coat," he said.
"W...what?" the human replied, dumbfounded like he was born yesterday.
*TITITITITI*
He promptly shot another one in the mask, breaking it and killing him.
"GHAAH?!"
The human fumbled around and got out a wooden case containing more bullets for his gun. Clearly, this amateur never actually had to use his gun, let alone reload.
*TITITITITI*
He punished his incompetence by shooting him dead. Then he dropped the gun and opened the window leading to a long drop.
The other shooters had no time to finish reloading by the time he climbed out.
...
Creighton had little room to climb down since all he had was the brick windowsills to climb down on. Up above, one of the shooters was radioing someone, while another was taking aim at him.
Creighton moved fast and quiet, leaping from platform to platform in a single step while he slowly but surely made his way down.
*TITITITITITITITI*
The shooter with the gun took a shot at him, but only managed to hit the bricks of the building.
Down below, Creighton noticed the parking lot had several flashing sirens inside of it. Whoever these people were, they were convincing.
*TITITITI--TITITITITITITITITITITITI*
The shooter tried firing again, but Creighton was close enough to the ground to jump off the building by the time the stream of bullets got close to him.
*SLAM*
He hit the ground hard, but his refined bones prevented him from harming himself. If anything, his only need for concern was any possible damage to the upholstery to his boots.
The red of the flashing sirens was bright and reflected off the concrete he kneeled on. He calmly readjusted his coat collar before standing up and rising to his feet.
He turned around and looked up to see the shooters were no longer at the window; obviously, they were seeking to confront him down on the street level.
Without so much as a trace of fear, he took off down a nearby alleyway with his hands in his pockets.
Whoever these people were, they weren't as tough as they made themselves out to be; they were sadly unprepared for his resistance.
It would probably take the rest of the evening, but he'd have them dispatched by night's end. After all, it's not like he had any more need for sleep; such a limitation had already been purged.
...
*knock-knock*
A knock on the door.
*KNOCK-KNOCK*
An impatient knock.
Creighton Bijou was in the middle of his dinner; a small bowl of leftover ramen he had heated up after a visit to a new restaurant in town; said to have had good reviews. Bijou didn't need to eat anymore, but still, it was nice to try new things; after all, he still had his tastebuds. It'd be a shame to have them go to waste.
*KNOCK-KNOCK*
*SIGH*
Creighton sighed, but he didn't move. He simply ate another bite of his noodles before slurping down the broth.
He didn't do so quickly. He took his time, he went at his own pace. Impatient or not, whoever it was would wait.
They would wait as he finished his dinner, cleaned his plate and utensils, dried them up, and put them away. Only then would he go to see who it was at the door.
...
*Click*
Cream unlocked the door and stood back. He had a feeling that whoever it was wasn't gonna be gentle with his door.
*SLAM*
And true to his gut, he was right. They entered his hotel room hastily and swiftly, men all dressed in black padding and holding MP5k smgs. Their reflective masks prevented him from seeing their faces.
Had he still had fear, he'd have fallen to his knees with his hands on his head; nowadays, his fear was long dead.
"Creighton Bijou," one of them said; the only one not wearing a mask. Human.
"Is that a problem?" he asked.
"I'm afraid so." the human confirmed.
He fished around in his pocket until he found himself a badge, complete with photo I.D. and information next to it.
"FBI," he said, grinning smugly. "You're under arrest for selling illegal merchandise,"
Clearly, he was talking about his computers, which he had been making and selling to random people with deep pockets for easy money. Said money was the money he had been living off of. Now it seemed someone wanted him to stop his business, or maybe wanted to strongarm him in order to exploit it.
Either way, it didn't matter to him. Creighton had been given enough time to read the man's badge, and despite the weapons pointed at his body and potentially ruining his clothes, he had nothing to fear.
"Your badge is fake," he said flatly.
The human's smile faded.
"W...w-what?" he said; the feline's unafraid accusation caught him off-guard. "No, it's not!"
"Yes, it is,"
Almost too fast to be seen, Creighton snatched the badge and held his finger up to some of the text.
"Don't get me wrong, it's very convincing and whatnot, but your I.D. number's been shifted to 10 digits with two letters mixed in at the end of the year," he explained, pointing to various parts of the text.
The ones wearing masks all looked at each other.
"Not to mention your seal is from last month," he said, pointing at that as well.
Creighton dropped the badge and folded his arms. In truth, he had his robotic brain to thank for those revelations. It made it quite easy access to various parts of the web and provide for him information both accessible and inaccessible to average people, granting data and knowledge most could only dream of.
Add that to his brain being able to think faster than most computers, and his finding out of their fraudulence came quite quickly.
The human pinched the bridge of his nose out of frustration; clearly, he wasn't expecting this from him.
"Somebody grab him? Please?"
One of them nodded and moved in to hold him by the arms.
*WHOCK*
On what was pretty much reflex at this point, Creighton elbowed him in the face, breaking his mask and his nose underneath.
"Ruben!" One guy said.
Creighton looked at the man who said that. Then, he took Ruben's gun:
*TITITITITITITITITITITI*
And shot him dead.
"THE FUCK!!!?" the human said.
"I DON--SHOOT HIM!!! SHOOT HIM!!!"
Cream locked elbows with Ruben and forced him to turn and face the other shooters. Creighton, meanwhile, was back-to-back with him.
*TITITITITITITITITITITITITITI*
*TITITITITITITITITITITITITITI*
*TITITITITITITITITITITITITITI*
*TITITITITITITITITITITITITITI*
*POW-POW-POW-POW-POW-POW*
They all opened fire, including the human, who used a colt python revolver instead of an SMG.
When the shooting stopped, Creighton allowed Ruben's body to hit the floor. His padding eventually gave way to the bullets, but his flesh did not. Creighton's body was unharmed.
"You almost ruined my coat," he said.
"W...what?" the human replied, dumbfounded like he was born yesterday.
*TITITITITI*
He promptly shot another one in the mask, breaking it and killing him.
"GHAAH?!"
The human fumbled around and got out a wooden case containing more bullets for his gun. Clearly, this amateur never actually had to use his gun, let alone reload.
*TITITITITI*
He punished his incompetence by shooting him dead. Then he dropped the gun and opened the window leading to a long drop.
The other shooters had no time to finish reloading by the time he climbed out.
...
Creighton had little room to climb down since all he had was the brick windowsills to climb down on. Up above, one of the shooters was radioing someone, while another was taking aim at him.
Creighton moved fast and quiet, leaping from platform to platform in a single step while he slowly but surely made his way down.
*TITITITITITITITI*
The shooter with the gun took a shot at him, but only managed to hit the bricks of the building.
Down below, Creighton noticed the parking lot had several flashing sirens inside of it. Whoever these people were, they were convincing.
*TITITITI--TITITITITITITITITITITITI*
The shooter tried firing again, but Creighton was close enough to the ground to jump off the building by the time the stream of bullets got close to him.
*SLAM*
He hit the ground hard, but his refined bones prevented him from harming himself. If anything, his only need for concern was any possible damage to the upholstery to his boots.
The red of the flashing sirens was bright and reflected off the concrete he kneeled on. He calmly readjusted his coat collar before standing up and rising to his feet.
He turned around and looked up to see the shooters were no longer at the window; obviously, they were seeking to confront him down on the street level.
Without so much as a trace of fear, he took off down a nearby alleyway with his hands in his pockets.
Whoever these people were, they weren't as tough as they made themselves out to be; they were sadly unprepared for his resistance.
It would probably take the rest of the evening, but he'd have them dispatched by night's end. After all, it's not like he had any more need for sleep; such a limitation had already been purged.
Category Artwork (Digital) / All
Species Housecat
Size 983 x 1280px
File Size 167.9 kB
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