Board Thread:What Would You Do?/@comment-35898511-20190225083918/@comment-36855838-20190225102223

Why the fuck does he think this will work?

I daren't question Chad to his face, but this has gone a bit far, from spraypainting to robbery is a steep slope, and I'd personally rather not crash.

I take my time scoping out the poorer areas of town, a big gym bag stuffed to the gills with spray cans in tow.

After searching for a good hour, I find a decently sized wall in an alleyway.

I triple check for roving eyes, and pull out my sketchbook.

Maybe I can make a fresh start with my graffiti art out here, after all.

A few hours of sketching and spraying later, and I've made a decent starry sky on a backdrop of black bricks.

I pack my things and make for the abandoned warehouse Chad had picked as our basecamp.

I was nearing the door, crumpled and caved in in one corner due to some long-forgotten collision, when I heard a scuff and a tumble.

I wheeled around instantly, and what I saw was honestly terrifying.

What I saw was neither woman, nor beast, but some inexplicable and uncomfortably arousing mixture of the two.

Her face was normal, and beautiful, enough, her limbs were coatd inthick, soft fur, the color of lavender, and her more humanish hair was silky smooth, unlike the fur, but no less voluminous.

Atop her head sat cats ears, pink and fleshy within but covered in fur on the back.

No ears sat at the side of her head.

She wore what could best be described as a navy vest, with large poofy shorts which stopped short of her knees, both were a dark blue in color, and seemed oddly weighty, as if made to be armor.

The profile she cut was that of a woman in a skirt, emphasis on woman, due to her curves.

She had a badge, proudly pinned in the center of her collar, drawing the eyes directly below her cleavage with its betraying glint-

"Good evening, sir."

I froze, the five or so seconds of rapid analysis cut short.

I stayed silent, my tongue wadding my chewing gum for a minor distraction.

As the silent moment dragged on, I saw she was straightening her uniform, and some odd tension slowly grew.

"Good afternoon, officer."

I tried not to look nervous, there was no way our reputation had carried to here, right?

"I-uhh. Right."

She seemed irritated, possibly flustered, she must've tripped, while she was. ..

She was following me!

I turned around, and began walking off.

"Well, nice chat!"

I waved behind me, walking off past the door.

I saw a red handkerchief tied to a nearby bike rack, and I took it.

I quickly tied it to my paint bag, once they got the signal, they'd need to be able to see it, after all.

---

Will this story resolve? Who knows?

---

I continue walking, taking careful note of where I am as I go, stopping suddenly at random intervals, acutely aware of the following scuff of her paws on the concrete.

Each time, there's a sharp intake of breath, and I do her the courtesy of not turning around while she noisily gulps something that reeks of artificial grape flavor.

I cross the street and double back, making my way towards base camp.

A lookout spots the red handkerchief, and I see him radio the others.

Glad he's calling in backup for my tail, I continue my walk up the street, and suddenly, Chad pops out of a sidestreet to confront me.

"Why are you makin' everybody scared mate? Ya've got us worried sick thinkin' somebody nabbed ya!"

We start walking for the warehouse.

"Clearly I've been tailed, you've got backup, right?"

He gives me a look which a professional painter might title "confuddled."

"What're you on about? We got a call in from mikey, false alarm."

"No, I was definitely tailed, wierd cat-lady, had an officer's badge."

He laughs it off, and keeps walking.

I lean close.

"Chad, stop suddenly and listen hard."

We slam to a halt.

A big, soft, fuzzy mass collides with our backs, likely due to the slope we just descended.

Her wails certainly were not dignified.

"Cool, let's cop a feel."

I smack him upside the head.

"That pun was lame, even for you, Chad."

I check both ways, the alley dead-ends, and we're alone.

I prop her up against the wall, and one sedative dart later, she's out cold.

"Alright, let's carry her off."

I nod, and we've soon brought her to the warehouse.

She gets set on a mattress in the middle of the space, and we all discuss what to do over a meal.

"Alright, so who wants to settle down."

A chorus of shrugs and indifferent grunts resounds.