Tesslar's Story

From the shadows, a pair of glowing eyes watched.
The owner of them had been looking for a place to open a cassino, but had yet to find anywhere... suitable.

Paying absolutely no attention to the what was happening on the other side, a shadow wandered down the street, crumpling a piece of paper in his clawed hands and throwing it on the pavement. He was in a BAD mood!
Well, he was never in a good mood (unless he was killing something of course!) But today, he was practically on fire! Passers by seemed to sense this, for not one dared to catch his eye. In fact, even the most hardened criminal would cross the street to avoid him...
“Hmmm. Still looking for a suitable place to start my venture!” He mused, as he walked along. That last place was no good. The agent must have been either blind or seriously deluded! ‘Spacious’ he had said. Pah! There wasn't room to swing a cat in the place! And the agent had regretted his dishonesty. Let's just say, he wouldn't be doing much estate agencing hanging upside down from the broken rafters with his throat cut open...
“I can't stay in the hovel for much longer!” he griped to himself. “The cats have started fighting! And I swear Lawrence ate one of the fairies. He's been hiccuping fairy dust all morning. The trouble is, people tend to fall over whenever he does…”

The cloaked feline, who was almost as black as the night itself, stared up the large tent that was plonked in the middle of the street with scathing, yellow eyes. This was NOT what he’d had in mind… and SOMEBODY was going to DIE!
“You IDIOT!” he screamed at the unfortunate man standing next to him. “This isn't the building I asked for! USUALLY they have these things called WALLS! And they tend to be made out of these things called BRICKS! NOT CANVAS!”
The young man quivered, “I-It was all we could find S-Sir,” he mumbled. “We couldn't f-find another estate agent willing to work with you... and everyone else simply refused answer the door…!”
Tesslar sighed grumpily, “FINE! If anyone wants me, I'll be in my room!” And tossed the canvas aside, before storming into the tent.
The man didn't answer. Mainly because he was lying on the ground with his throat severed...
“Lawrence! Clean up that mess!” Tesslar hollered, before walking towards his own private quarters, noticing someone standing just outside. “Ah! Bombalurina, my sweet!” he purred, suddenly the picture of charm. “I don't suppose you've seen my little Pearl anywhere, have you?”
The curvaceous red Somali took a deep drag of her cigarette. “No, sorry,” she said. “Last I saw, she had to go for a lie down… said something about a headache…”
Tesslar tutted, his features folding themselves into something akin to disappointment (a dangerous emotion for ANYONE who happened to be standing within ten feet of him!) before pulling themselves back into one of what seemed to be pity... although it was hard to tell the difference! “Ah... that is... unfortunate...” he muttered. “I was so looking forward to…”
Bombalurina regarded him nervously, but her flagrant demeanour never slipped. Not once. In fact, she smirked and rested her arms upon his massive shoulders. “Never mind,” she said sweetly. “I'm sure she'll make it up you when she feels better. In the meantime… why don't I…?”
“Hmmm…” Tesslar grumbled, “I suppose you'll have to do…”

A man pulled aside the curtain... shrieked! And quickly closed it…! But he wasn't quick enough!
The next thing he knew, he was being pinned up against the canvas, with a set of dagger like claws around his throat, staring down a gullet packed with razor sharp teeth! The growl that reverberated from the Cat's throat set his hair flying, “Who DARES to disturb me?!” Tesslar demanded. “You'd BETTER have a good story! I want LOTS of DRAGONS!!!!” And he tightened his grip, snarling (but secretly enjoying the terror he was inflicting, as the man breathed his last...!)
But just before the poor man died, he managed to utter the fateful words, “Sir… the Snowshoe’s escaped…!”
“WHAAAAAAAT????!!!!!@!”

The ornate, double doors of the colosseum creaked open, the sudden gust of wind created by the change in pressure whipping up the drapes and rattling the chandeliers, their crystals clinking together like finger bones, a roar high up in roof an indication of the rain that was plummeting down in great sheets from the charcoal sky outside.
A hooded figure stood in the doorway, his cloak billowing around him. And with the dull thud of his loafers on the polished, wooden floor, he made his way to the bar, swinging his long, twisted staff like a walking aid, even though he needed nothing of the sort!
With a long, sickle like claw, he tapped on the bar. “Excuse me,” he said to the barmaid in a well spoken, English accent; but with a voice like blackened steel. “I am looking for the owner of this place. I wonder, do you know where he is? I have… a proposition to make.”

From outside, a commotion could be heard coming from within the tent, the voices muffled. To passers by, it sounded as though someone was being murdered… but no-one stopped to investigate. For the simple reason that murders were all the rage in this part of town. In fact, they were so common that you could get them to order... and they usually came with a side of chips!
However, if someone had been foolhardy enough to look inside the large, circus style marquee, they would indeed, have witnessed a scene of utter carnage. Several Rats were dead, and Lawrence was pinned to the thick, black canvas with his feet dangling, by a seemingly invisible force! “You let her ESCAPE!!!?” Tesslar roared, his paw outstretched, staff pointing at Lawrence's chest!
“S-Sir…!” Lawrence tried to explain, though it was hard for him to talk- the force was slowly crushing his ribs! “She… she had a friend with her! A Jellicle...!”
That took Tesslar's mind off crushing the man like a coke can for a moment! He paused, arm still outstretched... “A Jellicle you say?” he said thoughtfully. “And... what exactly did this... Jellicle, look like?”
“S-S-Silver... black... tabby stripes! There was also a man with them…!”
“I see. That is… most intriguing...” The Fiend let go of the man, simply letting him fall to the ground in a heap, as he waved the staff and, moments later, a hologram computer screen appeared before him. “Evilyne!” he barked.
There was no answer (and Tesslar's eyes began to glow red!) “EVILYNE!!!” he roared. “Kindly answer me, you useless pile of junk!”
“What do you want?” The computer snapped in a monotone, staccato voice that sounded vaguely female. “I was halfway through upgrading my systems, I shall have you know. Now I shall have to start again. You bastard.”
“I don't care if you were filing your nails!” Tesslar snarled. “I want the names and faces of all the Silver tabbies this side of Terra! And make it snappy!”
The computer appeared to sigh moodily, and, a few, excruciating minutes later, thumbnails began to appear on the screen… over twenty thousand of them!
“Now Lawrence,” said Tesslar. “I need you to be a little more specific. Let's start with: Was it male?”
“Yes sir,” Lawrence quickly replied, and ten thousand thumbnails instantly vanished.
“Height?”
“Around 7,3.”
“Fur. Long or short?”
“Long, Sir.”
“Eye colour?”
“Green.”
“Breed?”
“A definite mix. Not a pedigree. At a push I'd say Maine Coon or Norwegian forest, with a bit of Balinese thrown in.” At that, only five thumbnails remained, and, still holding his ribs, Lawrence pointed to one, “That's him, Sir! That's definitely him!”
Tesslar enlarged the picture, and stood, staring at it for a long time. “Computer! Information on this individual please!” he barked again.
“Need I remind you that my name is Evilyne!” it replied moodily.
“Oh just get on with it, you virus infected Potato! Before I deep fry your hard drive!”
“Munkustrap Grayhame: assassin, status: mentor. Last known location: Gambit’s Bar…” As the computer listed off everything it had on the individual (including his birth date, star sign and family members... all the way down to his favourite childhood cuddly toy) Tesslar stroked the beard-like fur on his chin.
“So?” he mused. “Munkustrap Grahame, eh? My nephew’s killer? Residing here? In Wing City? Well, well, well! That is a turn up for the books. What electronic devices does he have on his person?"
"Target 197 carries a mobile wrist device. A Samsung Wristphone."
"Hmmm. Perhaps I will not kill you after all Lawrence! At least, not today! Computer! Track his phone, pinpoint his location!”
The computer was silent for another few ions (or what seemed like it anyway!) while on the screen, a circular throbber rotated around and around and around... "Negative," Evilyne said (after about ten minutes!) "Target out of range. Do you wish to retry?"
"No just forget it... Yes of course retry you idiotic machine! And keep trying until you locate him!"
Then he proceeded to interrogate the Mage for information on the other man (the one who had helped Jazzei to escape) and when Kurt Bannon's face appeared, Tesslar started to laugh. An evil, insane laugh that reverberated around the marquee and sent icy shivers down the spines of all those present… including a Red Somali queen, who was listening in the shadows...
The laugh was soon followed by a frenzie of stentorian orders, “LAWRENCE! Take your men and search the city! I want the girl AND Munkustrap. Both together! Preferably alive! However, you may kill the old man at your leisure! And don't you DARE fail me this time, Lawrence! Or I will change my mind about NOT turning you into a dust cushion...!”
"Oh, and one more thing," he added, just as Lawrence was about to disappear out of the canvas door faster than bat out of Hell. "Try not to get followed this time! I don't really want to have to kill anymore policemen. They made a frightful mess of my front porch!"

“So? Ladies! It would appear that we have a traitor amongst us!” Tesslar announced, as he walked up and down in front of the group of ten, nervous, Jellicle women, who were lined up against the far wall.
Some were shaking, others crying. The rest stared at him blankly, not knowing quite why they were there.
Twirling the beretta on a clawed finger, Tesslar continued the interrogation, “Come on! Which one of you was it?”
No one answered. So he sighed regretfully, took aim... and shot one of the queens (a brown and white Bicolour Angora called Aurora) square in the centre of her head, killing her instantly! And as she sank to the floor, the others shrieked and cried out in shock and horror…! As Tesslar spat, “I shall ask you again! Which one of you, sly little weevils stole my keys and helped my star performer, Jazzimoré, to run free?! Causing me to have get The Wolves in to kill her…?”
Bombalurina suddenly gasped, “What?!” Drat! She'd blown her cover!
“That's right, SWEETHEART,” Tesslar replied, looking directly at her with realisation dawning in his eyes. “Your precious friend is DEAD! And it looks as though you only have YOURSELF to blame!”
“I dunno what you're talking about!” Bombi growled, folding her arms.
“Oh I think you DO…!” Tesslar held up the gun-
“Tensey did it!” She said automatically.
“Hortenseya?”
Tutting, Tesslar turned to the Korat, her blue black fur shining with silver tips. “Tenseya! Tenseya!” he said almost pitifully. “Sensible Tenseya. Drummer of The Nymph Quartet and one of my finest acrobats. Why would you, of all people, do such a thing?”
Hortenseya glared hate filled daggers at Bombalurina, knowing full well that the Spartan Bitch had just sealed her fate. “I didn't do it, Sir,” she protested with tears in her eyes. Not of fear or sadness. But of anger! “She's lying! Can't you see?! I would never-!” BANG!
Poor Tensey never got another word out... dead before she even hit the floor, her chest ripped apart…!
Putting the gun away, Tesslar carried on as though nothing had happened, “Now let THAT be a lesson to ALL OF YOU!" He snarled. "I want no more sneaking about! No more treachery! No more lies! And if any one of you tries to escape, I will not only find you and kill you, but I will send the rest of you to Kingdom Come as well! NOW GET BACK TO WORK! Bombalurina. You will stay! I have need of you!”
“I can tell, Chicken!” the sassy Harlot drawled, not in the slightest bit phased by the ever growing pools of blood that were seeping into the carpet. At least, not appearing to be…!
Shaking and crying, the rest of the queens beat a hasty departure, going back to their jobs: which involved either cleaning the Marquee or otherwise, entertaining the ‘visitors’...

It started at midnight.
The prisoners were bundled out of the Marquee one by one and transferred to a blacked out minibus, with blindfolds over their eyes, and some with paws tied behind their backs (the squeaking fairies had been shut inside a special box which prevented them from using their magic; whereas the Alicorn had had its hooves clapped in chains.)
The Marquee was then quickly dismantled and stode away inside the boot of the bus, before it drove silently away, leaving behind no trace, aside from a few particles of dust blowing in the wind and collecting in the gutter, coupled with a number of stains darkening the cracked pavement...

Taking over The Ghoul had been surprisingly easy. The Boss was apparently away on business, and so all Tesslar had had to do was take over the barmaid’s mind and she had been most obliging after that!
His prisoners (seven Jellicle wives, five fairies, a Mithrall Swan, a rare Origin Fruit Bat, a handful of Pokemon and a blue roan Alicorn) had then been shipped in, in the dead of night, via a blacked out minibus, and were now safely housed inside their bullet and magic proof glass cages.
In slightly better spirits, Tesslar surveyed his new, grand surroundings and rubbed his paws together. It was time to prepare for the show! It was just a pity that he didn't have his star performer...
"Don't forget, this is only a temporary stop off!" he told the prisoners. "Tomorrow, we ship out to our new place of resistance. And I am sure you will find it to be most... comfortable...!" And he started to laugh. A long, low, evil laugh...!

Under the streets of Wing City, amongst the network of catacombs and basement dwellings connected by sewerage pipes and tunnels, stood a burned out ruin. All that remained of what was once, the roughest pub in Wing City. A black stain in amongst the grey despair and brown sludge that made up the Slum Walks and Undermarket.
However, it was here that Tesslar had chosen to use as his centre of operations. The builders (ones Tesslar had picked up using a combination of mind control and the promise of good pay) had already been brought in with steel rods, wooden beams, bricks and mortar salvaged from God knows where, and were hard at work, rebuilding the outside, the upper office and the Judicarius Conference room (whilst adding in a few extra features!) Reinforced, concrete cells, with bullet and magic proof glass doors, had been the first things go up, and the prisoners inside them could only look on as, by Tesslar's design, a quintessential English pub quickly began to take shape, concealing a massive corrugated steel warehouse at the back of it…!

At long last, the pub renovations were almost complete. The foundations had been pretty sound, so all that there was to do was to build up on top.
Looking like a Georgian shop front, with square lead windows, black walls for the ground floor and buff walls for the upper, it looked fairly innocuous, and already had a sign outside saying: The Penance Tavern now open. Under new management! Welcome all!
Inside, it was dark and gloomy, with wooden chairs and tables, a pool table (that also doubled as a poker table) dart board and solid oak bar, manned by an odd looking fellow whom Tesslar had met in the market, called Smiler Mcpsycho (So called because, when he smiled, he looked as though he was about to kill you! And most probably was!)
There was also a stage and poles for Tesslar's performers to entertain the guests with while they had a drink or a gamble... And a few had already started to check the place out! However, when they asked Smiler about putting anything on the tab, he simply smiled his ghoulish smile, held up an axe and said, “Give us yeh fingers. Yeh can av em back when yev paid!”
Everything was going to plan. Ok, so it wasn't quite the Slick Cassino that he had in mind, still, it was better than nothing!
Making his way to the combination of steel and reinforced concrete warehouse, Tesslar opened the door with a wave of his paw and entered, the door closing behind him. “Anything happening out there, Narkskull?” he asked.
The cyborg turned away from the wall of screens in his swivel chair and shook his head. “No sign of the escapee or the friend she was with, Sir. We're monitoring every camera in the city though, so it's only a matter of time. He can't hide forever, and Evilyne will be watching when he comes out of his hole-!”
At that moment, there came a frantic bleeping! It was coming from the super computer itself! Narkskull hurried over, punched a button on the keyboard and a map of the city appeared on the monitor, a red dot flashing in the area where the hospital was situated. “Target 254 identified and located!” Evilyne announced in her monotone voice. “Mobile phone signal detected at Wing City Hospital, Level 6. Now can I go back to sleep?”
“No you cannot, you wretched box!” Tesslar snapped. “Get the Hospital up on screen, this instant!”
Seconds later, the screens on the far wall flashed up with images of Wing City Hospital, and Tesslar eagerly zoomed in on one of them. He smiled avidly when he saw a familiar cat woman talking to a strange man outside the Pharmacy. “Found you, my pretty!” He chuckled.
“Warning!” Evilyne chimed in. “Detecting Aschen technologies! Detecting Aschen technologies!”
“Oh no! Not those bastards!” Tesslar groaned, taking up his staff. “Rats! A call to arms! Lawrence! I'm opening a portal to level 6 Wing City Hospital! Find the traitor! Kill her before the Aschen get their stinking mits on her! And I want her properly dead this time Lawrence!!!”

Tesslar and Narkskull watched intently as the scene on the screens unfolded: the silent hospital shoot out, the rivers of blood, dead bodies littering the corridor… Tesslar chuckled. It was like watching a really good war film! He liked war films... but aha! There was Larry and his Rat Crew! Chasing their injured quarry up the stairs and through the hospital…! “Go on! Grab her Man! What is wrong with you!” Tesslar roared at the screens (And Larry flinched as though he could hear him!)
Finally, an image of the roof appeared onscreen and Tesslar chuckled once again. “There she is, my little snitch! You're cornered now aren't you…? Hey! What just happened?! NARKSKULL!”
Narkskull frantically tapped a multitude of buttons on the keyboard...! “Something has knocked the cameras out Sir!” He said. “I can't get them back on!”
“Dang and Blast!” Tesslar railed. “When I find out who is responsible for this, I shall chew them up and use them as Pokemon food...!”

Slowly, Lawrence began to come round. And so did his four men. “Drat!” he snarled, getting up and dusting off his trench coat. Then he spoke into his wrist phone. “Bitch got any Boss!” He said.
“Then stop standing around like a blinking lemon and get back before the Aschen see you, you idiot!” came the reply.
“Yes Boss,” said Larry, showing his teeth.
“Come on,” he said to his men, and they all dived through a portal that had opened up beside them. As soon as the last man was through, it closed up and disappeared.

“Now, Lawrence. I'm going to ask you one more time. WHAT HAPPENED out there?!”
Lawrence was in his usual relaxed repose, hanging upside down in mid air, while Tesslar pointed the staff at his chest! “We were overwhelmed sir!” He explained (though it was hard to speak with the blood rushing to his head!)
“By WHOM!”
“The-the Fleabag! I almost had it, I swear! But then its friend appeared...! And what with the Aschen sticking their oar in where it wasn't wanted-!”
“Which friend?” Tesslar demanded.
“The Silver one! I saw it on the roof! It had something in its hand... a kind of gold orb…!”
“An Apple!” Tesslar whispered, ignoring the rest of Larry's feeble excuses. “So that was what knocked things out!” He looked at his staff, at the ornate holder at the top, designed for holding an Apple Of Eden. “I cannot deny that I have long desired such an object,” he said to himself. “To reunite the Apple with it's staff would make me unstoppable! And then I could finally teach those Aschen Scumbags once and for all, not to march all over MY turf-!”
“Sir! You've got to see this!” said Narkskull suddenly.
“See what?” asked Tesslar, snapping back to reality and letting Larry drop to ground with a dull “thud!”
Narkskull pointed at the wide, LG flat screen, which was tuned to an Aschen News channel:

“Terran insurgents attempt assassination on Grand Confessor Kesslee!” the broadcaster announced.

(“What? That prick that opened fire on innocent civilians? In a hospital no less?” Exclaimed Tesslar, making a great display of tutting and shaking his head. “What a pity they didn't succeed!”)

“While inspecting Terran medical facilities, Grand Confessor Kesslee came under attack from the manifold, vile, and monstrous enemies of the empire,” the voice droned on.

“One insurgent, identified as a young Felid-xenos entity with no known public records, and the alias 'Jazzimore' pulled a vile weapon of destruction against the noble grand confessor; in an unprovoked attempt upon his life. Assisted by the Terran Arch-terrorist Militant identified as Kurt Bannon, the insurgent drew her weapon in an attempt to take Kesslee's life, before fleeing in the presence of the noble Confessor Ayla Kayama, and the members of the Imperial Intelligence Agency's InOps Division, whom valiantly, and selflessly gave their lives to protect Grand Confessor Kesslee.

Agents of the Confessor Cabal, and the Imperial Intelligence Agency attempted to pursue the subjects, but the subjects managed to escape through the assistance of an unidentified felid-xenos entity who has been confirmed as a third militant assisting in the assassination of Grand Confessor Kesslee. (The image of Munkustrap appeared on the screen).

The United Aschen Empire is offering a reward of two hundred thousand cubits to information leading to the identification, and apprehension of these militants, so that they may be tried, and brought to justice to the fullest extent of Aschen Law!

Our noble brothers and sisters serving the Imperial Government will not tire until these vile terrorists are found, and calls out the Terrorists, let them know that wherever they may hide, they will not be able to hide from Imperial justice forever!”

After watching this, Tesslar quietly stroked his chin fur, his mind working overtime. Getting his revenge on Munkustrap would have to take a back seat, for it appeared that a bigger enemy was afoot. A MUCH bigger enemy! And it was time to show them who was boss! They would rue the day they messed with Tesslar! “I'll wash them back down whatever drain they crawled out of!” He muttered darkly.

“Good evening everybody!” the man in the dark glasses and trilby hat proclaimed to the modest group of individuals who had bothered to show up for the scheduled night. “Thank you all for coming. I, Cassius Countdankworth, will be your host for this evening. And I do hope that you enjoy your evening, while you let us entertain you! And don't forget your free shot to get the party started! Now, without further ado, I bring you: the marvellous, the magnificent, Grinning Ghoul Extravaganza...!!!”
The music began, and with a sweep of his long, black coat, the man (whose hair and beard was also long and black) picked up the microphone and began to sing.
As soon as he began to sing, beautiful women started appearing all over the club, some twirling around polls and others twisting through the crowd as they served out drinks. Every male in the room was truly mesmerized, and by the sight of one woman in particular: A busty redhead who was burlesque dancing onstage, salaciously attired in spiky shoes, fishnets and a tight corset (which was being held together by sheer luck alone!)
Soon she was joined by others and, as the audience members watched the show, transfixed by the staff that Cassius waved as he sang, not one of them noticed The Rats filtering among them, emptying their pockets…!

#”Ow!
Come on!
Yeah!
See-see-see-see-see-come on!
Would you please look at this mother next to me
Frontin' more booty than Peru got keys
Damn, if I don't get that
Wait right there and I'll be right back
Got a new trick in the back of my car
It's kinda like a movie but you're the star
Lights, camera, make a scene
The Endorphinmachine
Go baby
The Endorphinmachine
Yeah, go baby (Go baby)
Tippy, tippy, tin my friend or shall we begin?
Step right up and I'll strap you in
Don't be shy, this won't hurt a bit
Unless of course you don't believe in it
As sure as the dippy dippy wave of my 'do
You'll believe in somethin' before this night is through
Press one for the money, press two for the dream
And get ready for somethin' that you've never seen
The Endorphinmachine
Go baby
The Endorphinmachine
Go baby (Go baby)
Tommy Barbarella, turn it on
Hold up, wait a minute
Ain't no good unless somebody else is in it
You there with the cynical disposition
Perhaps you'd like to join us in a mission
Of fishin' for logic in a think tank
Unless, of course, you're feelin' like a punk and take the bank
But every now and then there comes a time you must defend
Your right to die and live again, live again, live again
Get up, get up, get in
The Endorphinmachine
It's alright, baby (Go Baby)
Don't be shy (The Endorphinmachine)
Yeah, I ain't gonna hurt you
Go baby
Come on, come on (Endorphinmachine)
Well, I told ya (Go baby)
The Endorphinmachine
Go baby, go baby, go, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah!
Don't make me!
Cass esta muerto
Cass esta muerto
Que viva para siempre el Poder de la Nueva Generacion!”#

Flora, a crime ridden city where the law is merely non-existent. Who knows how long the people here were allowed to run rampant doing whatever they wished. From stealing to killing the crimes could go on, but one thing was for certain for the forces of the Imperium. And that was that they would no longer simply allow this to happen, as such they responded in what they knew best, with a show of military force.

In the streets around midnight, mechanized and motorized transports began to roll into the city around an abandoned warehouse. Hundreds upon hundreds of boots began to march across the streets as well diciplined soldiers of the Cadian Guardsman began to get into position. Imperial Command had drawn a starting battleplan for them: secure a base of operations in the city to house Imperial Command and control in the area. Next convert the area into a regimental headquarters to properly direct forces and fortify the area in the event of any hostile action done against imperial forces.

Next part of the plan would go according to the Cadian Commander in charge of the forces here, his mission was to bring the hammer of the Emperor down on all criminals in the city. Lethal force was authorized when needed during this campaign. They were here to bring these criminals to heel. And they were coming in with zeal and fury.

The city was now under the watchful eye of the Imperium. As such, all criminals should be wary for the brave Guardsman are now here to stop them.