Gangs from another world — Part 04
Background: Curiosity killed the cat, because there was a flaw in your theory. This is the decree of the Science Cat-Clan, 6th Founding. With thousands of years of history the science cats lead the way of research and development. The clans typically are formed around monarchy or family hierarchy of leadership (they fall under the jurisdiction Founding #2 Historian/Lawyer Clans). The Science Cats are no different, but within their system they also employ a representative government run by the major universities.
The science cats prize learning and logic above all else. They even built a quasi-religion out of the reverence of machines and science, a far cry from the typical Ancestor, worship similar to the Shinto religion of Japan, practiced by the other clans. Their priests shun all forms of pleasure. At one point in their history the religious authority took over the running of the clan, due to an assassination of the leader. The High-Lord Terrath banned all forms of entertainment. Outsiders who had settled within the Science Cat territory were not allowed to practice their arts and craft without the strictest form of supervision and observation.
Once Terrath was forced to give up the throne, the ban was slowly lifted for the citizens and other residents. It was too late because the cold seriousness of logic made a permanent change on the senses of the members of the Clan.
While most Cat Clans are typically made up of family members, this clan forms cabals or cliques. These cliques often focus on certain types of research and rarely explore concepts outside of their realms of research. For example, a biology clique will study biology and not venture into the realm of chemical engineering. There are always exceptions to the rules, especially when there’s a mutual benefit for cliques to work together.
This is one of the few clans where one rarely sees backstabbing and undermining each other’s plans and accomplishments. After all, there’s no logic in it.
Contrary to popular belief store bashing’ isn’t typically the modus operandi of the North-Central Posse. If that were the case, a breaking point would be reached and the shop keepers would bang together and beat us to a pulp. Those are the thugs from rival outlander gangs.
As a whole we get money from shopkeepers and in return we perform jobs for the local shopkeepers such as: delivery, fetch jobs, collect money from debts, sweeping and mopping or whatever the shopkeeper needs to have done. It’s not uncommon to see one of us running a business while the shopkeeper is sick out of town. In return, we learn a trade. In Lee’s case he is learning to be a butcher. Red, our local task mage, is learning magic from a retired Militant-Wizard. In Anna’s case, she is learning business ethics at the pool hall, along with bag language.
When the next wave teenage hoodlums grow up, we will teach them; this is the law of the ghetto.
We arrived back at my mansion, that’s what we like to call my home, only to find Henna relaxing on the couch. She ditched the rest of the classes that day to eat what little food we had. I tossed her a bag of chips and planted myself on my tattered couch. She was watching a rerun of the show “My darling Darla, Darla Darling — Domestic Cat-Girl”. It was the episode there Darla and her neighbor discover that were both pregnant after an office party. Seasons 1, 3 and 6 were the best.
She glanced up from the episode just long enough to spy Lee walk in with a cash register, bags of food and Anna proudly showing off her plasma gun to her.
“Successful hunt?” she asked already knowing the answer. Lee let out a grunt. Anna walked into my room with the weapon, probably to stash it someplace. I find all sorts of things in my room from time-to-time including: watches, wallets (minus the gold of course), rings, shiny bits, a tire once, or whatever an 11-year-old girl can carry off with. So why not a knock-off plasma gun?
Lee slammed the cash register on the kitchen counter and began trying to pry it open with his massive fists. Before I could locate a hammer, which was probably stashed in a room someplace there was a loud knock at the door.
“No one is here, go away!” Anna shouted back from my room. The person knocked harder. “Open the door you little scrub or I’ll kick your teeth in!” came the reply.
The voice was from Akuma, the next in line for the throne or leader. As much as we talk shit about the Royal Class we sure do use a lot of the terms. I’ve never realized it, till I started writing this down. Before he could knock my door down and make good on his threat to my sister I opened it and stared him down. He was a head shorter that me with curly black hair. His dragon eyes stared back at me, 40% dragon I believe.
He cast his eyes down and quickly turned his head back to me, “We got a problem, boss.”
Part 03 -
Dr. C. Cat (the one and only) is the first economic conservative cat blogger, and sometimes fiction writer. If you wish to donate to me, please send me all the tuna you have in the house. I would be sure to send back an empty can so it can recycled.