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The Heartfelt Caution
Slinking in shadows on little cat feet she went, turning corners in lissome confidence and passing unheard and unseen through the ventilation shafts. Warm air flowed around her as she crept along, holding in mind her mental model of the secret location. This time, she would make a go of it. She had six shiny things she’d accumulated already, and the next was practically around the corner.
She’d memorized guard rotations, electrical schema and floorplans for months, and despite all her efforts she’d had to abandon everything on the last attempt. This time, she’d be better prepared. She scanned ahead through the darkness of the unlit shaft as her hair lifted and ruffled. She was determined to be professional. Through the rectangular sheet metal tube she crawled, alert for alarms.
Despite her precautions, the floor of the ventilation shaft bumped and squeaked as she passed gently through. She froze, listening intently. There were guards passing through the corridors below and she was ready to spring into action, or flee if need be. She pawsed on the edge of flight, her claws extended, her ears listening with full focus as her brain analyzed the sound of each footstep.
The footsteps faded to silence. They hadn’t noticed! She let go the breath she’d been holding and took a tentative step forward. There was a chance this evening would pay off after all. There was a tension between her great desire for her prize, and her need for caution. But you couldn’t just wait, either; sometimes you just had to calculate the risks, then step up and take a swing. Sometimes you might just get by with a cute smile, and sometimes you had to be ready to back up your actions, and be clever, and pick your battles carefully.
She was committing herself to it now, as she worked her way further down the shaft, and rounded a corner, and saw the faint glow of light ahead. She worked her way up to the vent grille and peered through. There was the red-velvet lined case, and there was the object she sought, gleaming gently in the subdued light. There were no guards in the room proper; the next inspection would be ten minutes from now. Just time enough if she was bold!
She extended a long pole, a pole that once had had a few colored feathers tied to the end, but which was now modified to suit her purrpose. She slipped it through the louvres, and lowered the string gently, gently, snaking it around the infrared beams until the string’s lowest loop was just able to snag the object of her desire. She lifted it slowly as the seconds and the minutes ticked away. She dared not make a sudden move or it would fall to the floor and alert the guards. Up a bit more, carefully.
As it neared the vent, she got another tool ready, a long forceps, and as she drew the pole with her prize close, she suddenly darted out with the forceps to seize the prize before it could fall from the string. The prize was hers!
She slowly pulled it through the louvres and stashed it in her pouch just as guards started to approach the door. She held her exhilaration down as she turned and moved for the escape hatch and the rendezvous point. But her heart hammered with the truth inside her.
She was the Queen of cats, the Cat-Ra, and this was her night, and this prize was her prize.
She’d memorized guard rotations, electrical schema and floorplans for months, and despite all her efforts she’d had to abandon everything on the last attempt. This time, she’d be better prepared. She scanned ahead through the darkness of the unlit shaft as her hair lifted and ruffled. She was determined to be professional. Through the rectangular sheet metal tube she crawled, alert for alarms.
Despite her precautions, the floor of the ventilation shaft bumped and squeaked as she passed gently through. She froze, listening intently. There were guards passing through the corridors below and she was ready to spring into action, or flee if need be. She pawsed on the edge of flight, her claws extended, her ears listening with full focus as her brain analyzed the sound of each footstep.
The footsteps faded to silence. They hadn’t noticed! She let go the breath she’d been holding and took a tentative step forward. There was a chance this evening would pay off after all. There was a tension between her great desire for her prize, and her need for caution. But you couldn’t just wait, either; sometimes you just had to calculate the risks, then step up and take a swing. Sometimes you might just get by with a cute smile, and sometimes you had to be ready to back up your actions, and be clever, and pick your battles carefully.
She was committing herself to it now, as she worked her way further down the shaft, and rounded a corner, and saw the faint glow of light ahead. She worked her way up to the vent grille and peered through. There was the red-velvet lined case, and there was the object she sought, gleaming gently in the subdued light. There were no guards in the room proper; the next inspection would be ten minutes from now. Just time enough if she was bold!
She extended a long pole, a pole that once had had a few colored feathers tied to the end, but which was now modified to suit her purrpose. She slipped it through the louvres, and lowered the string gently, gently, snaking it around the infrared beams until the string’s lowest loop was just able to snag the object of her desire. She lifted it slowly as the seconds and the minutes ticked away. She dared not make a sudden move or it would fall to the floor and alert the guards. Up a bit more, carefully.
As it neared the vent, she got another tool ready, a long forceps, and as she drew the pole with her prize close, she suddenly darted out with the forceps to seize the prize before it could fall from the string. The prize was hers!
She slowly pulled it through the louvres and stashed it in her pouch just as guards started to approach the door. She held her exhilaration down as she turned and moved for the escape hatch and the rendezvous point. But her heart hammered with the truth inside her.
She was the Queen of cats, the Cat-Ra, and this was her night, and this prize was her prize.
You made me look up lissome. As cool as that is, folks often comment on my large vocabulary and obscure word choices, so making me look up a word is probably an indication it should be changed or used with enough context that the meaning is clear.
I weep for the lack of an Oxford comma in your second paragraph.
I have mixed emotions regarding the use of "pawsed". Again with "purrpose". The unspoken "cat burglar" does well unsaid.
I'm surprised that this story isn't a feghoot. Maybe I missed something.
I weep for the lack of an Oxford comma in your second paragraph.
I have mixed emotions regarding the use of "pawsed". Again with "purrpose". The unspoken "cat burglar" does well unsaid.
I'm surprised that this story isn't a feghoot. Maybe I missed something.
Mission Impossible theme intensifies.
Something I liked:
So, it was inevitable that we would get a Catra-centric entry, because we get at least one of those every round, and I'm actually glad that this one doesn't delve into her relationship with Adora for once. Instead of being an emotional thief, she's a literal thief here, which is... better? Catra is a very selfish character by nature, and her being a literal cat burglar (easy, I know) makes sense. This is also an entry where the lack of dialogue bothers me the least, if only because the determination of the narration matches Catra's own sense of determination. It's a good writing voice, and a pretty solid narrative overall.
Something I didn't like:
Kind of a weird point of criticism, but it took me a few readings to get what this was about, and even now I'm not 100% sure. There are a few words that caught me off-guard, like what Lofty said about "lissome," a word I literally did not get the meaning of until ten seconds ago. Considering what the story is about, it does reach too closely to purple prose at times, and the action sort of gets caught up in the maze of words. I would like to read more about this one, if only to get a better idea of Catra's life as a thief. And yes, I want to read more about Catra for once.
Verdict: Pretty strong entry. There is something that holds me back with it, though.
Something I liked:
So, it was inevitable that we would get a Catra-centric entry, because we get at least one of those every round, and I'm actually glad that this one doesn't delve into her relationship with Adora for once. Instead of being an emotional thief, she's a literal thief here, which is... better? Catra is a very selfish character by nature, and her being a literal cat burglar (easy, I know) makes sense. This is also an entry where the lack of dialogue bothers me the least, if only because the determination of the narration matches Catra's own sense of determination. It's a good writing voice, and a pretty solid narrative overall.
Something I didn't like:
Kind of a weird point of criticism, but it took me a few readings to get what this was about, and even now I'm not 100% sure. There are a few words that caught me off-guard, like what Lofty said about "lissome," a word I literally did not get the meaning of until ten seconds ago. Considering what the story is about, it does reach too closely to purple prose at times, and the action sort of gets caught up in the maze of words. I would like to read more about this one, if only to get a better idea of Catra's life as a thief. And yes, I want to read more about Catra for once.
Verdict: Pretty strong entry. There is something that holds me back with it, though.
Ok so I'm gonna dive right into the thing that I both adore and loathe in this entry: the lack of context. Look, I get it—the whole point of this piece is that it doesn't matter where Catra is or what she's stealing, and you make that abundantly clear (both implicitly, by saying nothing, and explicitly, when you describe objects of past heists as "shiny things"). It's not often I see a piece that manages to use not saying something to such good effect, and that is admirable and fantastic and excellently done and...
... arrrrrrgh. It frustrates me. Every fibre of my being wants to know the context of this story, even as I write a review that praises the story for knowing that adding that context would take away from the piece's primary focus. It feels like this story is actively taunting me, author: the cat wordplay certainly adds to that impression. I really like this piece after reading it, but I can't say that the act of reading it was the most fun I've had.
Overall? Solid entry. Frustrating, yes... but solid.
... arrrrrrgh. It frustrates me. Every fibre of my being wants to know the context of this story, even as I write a review that praises the story for knowing that adding that context would take away from the piece's primary focus. It feels like this story is actively taunting me, author: the cat wordplay certainly adds to that impression. I really like this piece after reading it, but I can't say that the act of reading it was the most fun I've had.
Overall? Solid entry. Frustrating, yes... but solid.
The language use here is really good, with the word choice, phrasings, and imagery. I'm not sure what happened though. It's a nice character portrait, showing her in her element, but it's hard to get worked up about this prize she has when I don't know what it is and what it means to her. I don't know whether it's something very precious to her or something she's stealing just to be able to say she did.
It seems more like the latter. Some of the language implies she steals just because it's her nature, but then I think it would have been a good choice to have more of the narration focus on making that clear. There's very little reaction from her about it, and how emotional she gets would really sell this. Whether that reaction is to the conclusion of the process or to the object itself would be revealing. By leaving it feeling more everyday, it carries less weight as an insight to her character. I can see that people sometimes want to write low-key things that don't have a high impact, but even framing this as a "thrill of the hunt" kind of thing would preserve that while giving it more gravity.
It seems more like the latter. Some of the language implies she steals just because it's her nature, but then I think it would have been a good choice to have more of the narration focus on making that clear. There's very little reaction from her about it, and how emotional she gets would really sell this. Whether that reaction is to the conclusion of the process or to the object itself would be revealing. By leaving it feeling more everyday, it carries less weight as an insight to her character. I can see that people sometimes want to write low-key things that don't have a high impact, but even framing this as a "thrill of the hunt" kind of thing would preserve that while giving it more gravity.