12-30-2022, 04:48 PM
ATTICUS ROUX -
Atticus had no business wandering Tanglewood lately. In fact, he had become quite the recluse. With family gone, but close friends remaining, he found himself staying within his inherited cabin with his head between his paws. Laying on the couch, a blanket covered his messy fur and almost covered his gaze. One yellow peeked out though. Every now and then, it expectantly looked out the window or crossed paths with the door frame, only to return being closed moments later. Tired and without purpose, the feline felt lost. After all, with no anger to displace anymore, what else could he do?
For once, his sunflower hues opened and he looked elsewhere. At the bookshelf, to be exact. His head poked out further from underneath the fabric, staring out at the childhood collection of novels and philosophical books that his parents enjoyed. One book caught his eye though. 'How To Kill A Mockingbird.' His name-sake came from that book and, while he didn't enjoy the content within, the leather book held sentimental value.
A sigh left the feline as he sloughed out of the covers and onto the floor, paws landing lightly on the wooden floor. With his back slouched and tail hanging loosely, he meandered closer to the shelf with eyes set on his dedicated novel. Unlike the other books, the novel had no dust coating and was worn away by his touch over the years. Even so, he grabbed at it with gentle claws to prevent further damage. It felt... thicker? With confusion, he turned the cover over and let the book's pages fall naturally. In the middle laid a piece of parchment.
The fur on the back of his nape stood up. His ears perked up and his head whipped around. Someone was here. Someone had been in his home. This was not something he had done and he was sure of it. Atticus, with caution, laid the book on the floor and gently plucked the paper out of the middle. His paw threw it away from him, letting it cascade onto the floor and open up without any effort on his part.
Narrowed eyes looked down at the suspicious piece of paper. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. It held no smell. No powder or poison to be seen. Only paper. Nothing more. There was no hint to indicate it was threat, but he had yet to read what words were presented in front of him. The letter read:
'Atticus Roux of Tanglewood,
We have been watching you. Apologies for any trouble that has caused, but you appear to be an interesting creature. You of all animals need a purpose and we, as a company, would like to provide that. You have the potential to grow and we wish to only initiate your betterment. If you are interested, we would like to meet with you. Our business relies on animals like you, after all.
If you are interested in meeting, please come to... at the time of...
Tell no one.
Regards,
The Valentine Empire'
A low growl revealed itself from his throat. What could this be? A threat? Someone with genuine interest? The feline did not know, but his hot-headed behavior was beginning to flare up at the thought of being watched. Nevertheless, the rational thoughts in the back of his head told him to stop and think this over. Ramblings from underneath his breath came to a halt and silent proceeded with his mind racing in tow.
What could this 'empire' provide? He did not know and he would not know until he met with them. For his 'betterment,' they said. To find a 'purpose.' Had they not touched on the parts he wished to fix, he would never had a second thought, but here he was, standing in shock and letting consideration wrack his brain.
In an attempt to shove the thought behind him, he swiped up the letter from the floor and hurriedly shoved it back in the book. Paws slammed the novel back into it's spot with a huff. His brows lowered in a furrow and an annoyed frown met his lips. He had to make a decision, but for now, he had other things to get to... but did he really?
Another day, another patrol. Another meal he couldn't enjoy. Another sunset into a nightmare fueled sleep. 'Purpose,' they said. Purpose, well, he had none. He used to be the connection between The Pitt and Tanglewood, the link between the Rouxes, but no longer. There was nothing for him. Nothing to live for. Not a soul to commit himself to. Could this change that? How many second chances at life could he get and not commit to? Running for The Pitt was a cowardly move of his past, but if he ran into this opportunity whiskers first, could he change things?
His behind thumped onto the floor. For a moment, and for the first time in awhile, the cat cackled. Something was missing. Could this fill that void?
Contemplation was before him...
But deep down his mind was made up.
Atticus Roux wanted more.
The symphony of thoughts that choked his mind caused him to sit silently in the middle of his home. A rattle of the doorknob caused his head to whip off to the side, claws splayed out in an instant. Someone was here. His stalker? A friend? A stranger? This 'Valentine?' The tabby couldn't exactly see them yet, but as he sat, he awaited for their silhouette to appear.
For once, his sunflower hues opened and he looked elsewhere. At the bookshelf, to be exact. His head poked out further from underneath the fabric, staring out at the childhood collection of novels and philosophical books that his parents enjoyed. One book caught his eye though. 'How To Kill A Mockingbird.' His name-sake came from that book and, while he didn't enjoy the content within, the leather book held sentimental value.
A sigh left the feline as he sloughed out of the covers and onto the floor, paws landing lightly on the wooden floor. With his back slouched and tail hanging loosely, he meandered closer to the shelf with eyes set on his dedicated novel. Unlike the other books, the novel had no dust coating and was worn away by his touch over the years. Even so, he grabbed at it with gentle claws to prevent further damage. It felt... thicker? With confusion, he turned the cover over and let the book's pages fall naturally. In the middle laid a piece of parchment.
The fur on the back of his nape stood up. His ears perked up and his head whipped around. Someone was here. Someone had been in his home. This was not something he had done and he was sure of it. Atticus, with caution, laid the book on the floor and gently plucked the paper out of the middle. His paw threw it away from him, letting it cascade onto the floor and open up without any effort on his part.
Narrowed eyes looked down at the suspicious piece of paper. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. It held no smell. No powder or poison to be seen. Only paper. Nothing more. There was no hint to indicate it was threat, but he had yet to read what words were presented in front of him. The letter read:
'Atticus Roux of Tanglewood,
We have been watching you. Apologies for any trouble that has caused, but you appear to be an interesting creature. You of all animals need a purpose and we, as a company, would like to provide that. You have the potential to grow and we wish to only initiate your betterment. If you are interested, we would like to meet with you. Our business relies on animals like you, after all.
If you are interested in meeting, please come to... at the time of...
Tell no one.
Regards,
The Valentine Empire'
A low growl revealed itself from his throat. What could this be? A threat? Someone with genuine interest? The feline did not know, but his hot-headed behavior was beginning to flare up at the thought of being watched. Nevertheless, the rational thoughts in the back of his head told him to stop and think this over. Ramblings from underneath his breath came to a halt and silent proceeded with his mind racing in tow.
What could this 'empire' provide? He did not know and he would not know until he met with them. For his 'betterment,' they said. To find a 'purpose.' Had they not touched on the parts he wished to fix, he would never had a second thought, but here he was, standing in shock and letting consideration wrack his brain.
In an attempt to shove the thought behind him, he swiped up the letter from the floor and hurriedly shoved it back in the book. Paws slammed the novel back into it's spot with a huff. His brows lowered in a furrow and an annoyed frown met his lips. He had to make a decision, but for now, he had other things to get to... but did he really?
Another day, another patrol. Another meal he couldn't enjoy. Another sunset into a nightmare fueled sleep. 'Purpose,' they said. Purpose, well, he had none. He used to be the connection between The Pitt and Tanglewood, the link between the Rouxes, but no longer. There was nothing for him. Nothing to live for. Not a soul to commit himself to. Could this change that? How many second chances at life could he get and not commit to? Running for The Pitt was a cowardly move of his past, but if he ran into this opportunity whiskers first, could he change things?
His behind thumped onto the floor. For a moment, and for the first time in awhile, the cat cackled. Something was missing. Could this fill that void?
Contemplation was before him...
But deep down his mind was made up.
Atticus Roux wanted more.
The symphony of thoughts that choked his mind caused him to sit silently in the middle of his home. A rattle of the doorknob caused his head to whip off to the side, claws splayed out in an instant. Someone was here. His stalker? A friend? A stranger? This 'Valentine?' The tabby couldn't exactly see them yet, but as he sat, he awaited for their silhouette to appear.
