Information

Centicat has a minion!

Glis the Toadmus

Centicat
Legacy Name: Centicat

The

Common Experiment #104
Owner:

FoxSake

Age: 6 years, 2 days

Born: April 23rd, 2018

Adopted: 2 years, 11 months, 2 weeks ago

Adopted: May 6th, 2021

Statistics

Level: 108
Strength: 271
Defense: 270
Speed: 269
Health: 269
HP: 192/269
Intelligence: 218
Books Read: 215
Food Eaten: 50
Job: Decadent Duke

CREDITS

adopted from User not found: monstre
profile template by

helix
background by colourlovers.com
photo from unsplash.com
edits & story by me :)

Curiouser and Curiouser

“‘But I don’t want to go among mad people,’ Alice remarked. ‘Oh, you can’t help that,’ said the Cat. ‘We’re all mad here. I’m mad. You’re mad.’ ‘How do you know that I’m mad?’ said Alice. ‘You must be,’ said the Cat, ‘or you wouldn’t have come here.’”
-"Alice in Wonderland", by Lewis Carroll

Walking through the garden, you find yourself coming across a small clearing with a rather wide, round, flat mushroom, neatly covered with a tablecloth and surrounded by seats devised from stumps, rocks, and smaller mushrooms. Atop the tablecloth, someone had set out a wild variety of cups and teapots, each reflective of the diversity of the expectant guests. One pair of clear glass pots, filled mostly with liquid and partially with steam, had been ensnared by vines bearing small delicate flowers. While the first of the pair sported lively vibrant flowers and was filled with a clear honeyed golden liquid, the flowers on the second pot seemed so frail and withered that the petals seemed like they would be blown off by a mere whisper and the presumed 'tea' was murky and laden with silt. Your eyes settle on another set so small that the teapot and the accompanying teacups all fit snuggly on an oak leaf. Before you could get closer for a better look, something runs across your foot. A rat! No, upon closer look, a mouse! Even if you didn't hold any bias against rats or mice, having your foot run over by a small creature was startling enough to break your concentration and notice the low growl coming from up behind you. A low voice from behind interrupts you with a purr, "Do you have an invitation?"

You twirl around to locate the source of the voice, and see- nothing. Well, not nothing. There was the garden. It wasn't neat by any means. The plants had never been trimmed or cut before, and they grew wherever they felt like. Fortunately, it seemed like they felt like growing in respective distances from each other, so one was never overgrowing or stifling the other. Some liked to brush their leaves against one another as they reached up and stretched towards the sunlight, while others preferred to hide underneath their cousins, enjoying the gentle shade. Each plant thriving on their transfixed spot in the earth.

You look around again, willing the speaker to show itself. This time, from beside your right ankle, something hisses "This is a private function, and while I'm not trying to be rude, I'd much prefer it if you left."
You jerk to the side, trying to gain some distance between yourself and whatever it is. Which, again, appears to be nothing. With your fists clenched tight, ready to defend yourself if necessary, you carefully tap your foot out. While you try to assess whether The Voice is invisible, and, albeit unlikely (though hopefully), still in the same spot, you hear a wry chuckle from above.
You spot a creature lounging on a large branch some feet away as he glances sideways at you while lazily inspecting his claws. You can help but feel your face flush. He's been toying with you! The jerk-
"If you're insistent on staying, may I interest you in some hemlock tea?" As what can only be described as an experiment with a red panda and a moth gone wrong (or terribly right, depending on your tastes), the creature continues as you fume silently. It gives off a small series of clicks with his teeth. A mouse, which you identify as the same mouse that ran across your foot as it seems to be the only one around, squeaks in response and runs off out of sight through the underbrush. "I usually reserve it for uninvited guests. I find it to have a very nice earthy aroma that really makes you appreciate what little time there is left."
He arches his back for a deep satisfying stretch before hopping down from the branch, spreading his moth-like wings to glide gently down until he lands just past your feet, trotting with all 6 paws towards the clearing. "If you're in luck, I might also have some foxglove. Now, I don't want to be presuming and cliché by saying it's to die for, but..." He turns around and gives you a lopsided grin, the top corner twitching as he tries his best to hold back a snigger at his own joke, "It's positively KILLER!!" Unable to help himself, he throws his furry head back and chatters excitedly like a cat with its prey in sight. After a few uncomfortable seconds, he finally notices you staring, abruptly stops, then beams at you with a grin so wide it nearly split his face in two.

When he reaches the makeshift mushroom-table, with his front 4 paws he pats his fur (and whatever sanity you suspect he has left) down in place, and formally introduces himself, "Well, dear transient non-invitee, I apologize for the late introduction. I am Centicat. And you are?" He hops and flutters about the table-set mushroom, arranging onto it utensils, desserts, and an even greater assortment of tea, seemingly pulled from out of the air. Your imagination half-jokingly suggests that Centicat may have access to the world-breaking technology of dimensional pockets mysteriously embedded in his fur. Finally satisfied with the stunning display of teas and confections on the tablecloth, he gives a pleased grin and steps back to admire his handiwork. "We don't usually see your kind around here seeking an untimely demise," he remarks in your direction and settles himself on a nice plump mushroom that grows shorter and stouter with the added weight. "But as it stands, you have no invitation, and we have no room for you." He frowns and gestures towards the empty seats with paired place settings, as if to emphasize his point. "So, you best be going now..." And he let out a piercing chirrup. Suddenly, you find yourself drowning in an unnaturally thick, mint-turquoise fog. You reach out, hoping for some kind of help, but Centicat merely turns away and bends down to give a mouse a small biscuit. "Thank you for your assistance, Glis."

As you kick, flail, and attempt everything possible to break free, you manage to hear Centicat's voice muffled in the distance to someone unseen, which causes your stomach to plummet a few feet further than the rest of your body. "Oh, won't you please be a dear and try your best to dispose of this one properly this time."