Stirring the Pot

Yes, I've been away for a while. I had some...things to tend to. I am just glad that the minions kept the place in good order while I was gone.

They better have...

A Valentine for...ME?

It seems The Demon put a valentine in the latest edition of The Primgraph magazine for me. I do believe that I am flattered and rather tickled by the picture of the fishie with it. Speaking of fishies, the ones he gave me a while ago are doing quite well and provide a regular source of snacks.

I Almost Forgot

I almost forgot. I know that it is after the holidays, but my minions' gingerbread rendition of the Port Harbor warehouse won 2nd place in the contest. I snuck in later and took a bite out of the winner's.

Yes, I am that petty.

Happy New Year...Well, Not TOO Happy

And so a new year at the Lab begins...

A Rather Interesting Rez Day

I ventured out of the Lab to particpate in Steelhead's Holiday Storytelling Festival and perform my "12 Days of Mad Scientist Christmas" to an appreciative audience...
Lest anyone think I am anti-holiday, I rather enjoy the season and the prospect of gifts of fishies, mice, and doom rays. Not to mention sharks in tanks...sharks not in tanks. It warms my heart, but not as much as the coal I seem to receive instead. My Hidden Paw colleague, ChairmanMe Yowman was there, and engaged The BunnyElf in a round of fisticuffs...I attended the dance afterwards with music presenter Diamanda Gustafson, whose snowflakes were in the form of skulls. I was thrilled. She was also wearing a rather interesting hat...I normally do not like dances, but I checked the calendar and realized it was my rez day. Another year of dodging enemies and friends and I am still here to tell the tale!

The Elf Made Me Do It

Many of the children from Babbage have recently immigrated to Steelhead and are staying in Miss Razor's hostel in Boomtown. These little humans seem to be a rather lively lot and are very intrigued by my squiddy thing. I would much advise them to behave regarding it, lest it sees them as "snacks." One of these scamps had become lost in the woods the other week and injured himself quite badly. Dr Beck, who is our resident physician was unavailable when a distress call from them for help came out.

"Are you not a doctor?" The Elf inquired. I rolled my eyes and muttered that I could care less as it was the boy's own fault and his leg should fall off or something for his idiotic roamings. After all, what is a mangled hand or black lung here or there when it comes to them?

"But DR Alter...this is a child," The Elf implored. Did he not hear what I think of them--with their germs and tail-pulling, bear hugging ways? "I would imagine that working for you is rather hazardous. The minions injure themselves all of the time. You must have something?"

With thoughts of dealing with The Redhead and her arsenal in my head, I went over to the hostel with the first aid kit the minions cobbled together. I sighed and cursed under my breath that it was The Elf that asked me to help. Hmph. He could probably hear me complaining from sims away with those ears. I had a right mind to just toss the aid kit at them and keep going, but much to their gratitude, I patched the young miscreant up. After a threat, I departed...running right into The Elf upon my leaving. I could see the big smile on his face and scowled.

"Aw, I knew you could never do anything bad!" he said, very much to my chagrin.

I told him to keep an eye on his house...and his hair.

Squiddy Thing Back to "Normal"

I have been watching Squiddy carefully since his recent expulsion of the gent he had digested. It seems to be recovering a bit nicely and has taken to waving about once more.

I should probably set out the ham again, just in case, so that one of the scamps do not end up inside next.

Steam Willard is Out

I set out the larger version of Steam Willard the Rat at the warehouses, which reminds me that I must pay a visit to the live one.

Mmm...Mmm...Good?

While taking my morning stroll around Port Harbor I walked down the the docks near the Navy headquarters and came upon this mother hen and her little chicks. I licked my fangs and thought that chicken would be nice for breakfast. I saw the seals, and considered making short work of the little one, but all of the fat in it probably would just come back to bite me in the end.

Ongoing Investigation

Being a busy feline of science, I do not normally attend town meetings. However, I was there last week given the recent events at the warehouses. I thought that I would come and be among my fellow citizens, do my civic duty, deflect attention...oh, whatever. Let us just say that I do not hoooo. I couldn't have given a Willard's arse about attending under normal circumstances, but I was in the building anyway due to having been brought in for questioning by The Sheriff, with The Elf in attendance...
I've been to many questionings in my life. Many. This was no different, so 'twas a breeze for me. After all, despite my past "misunderstandings" and "accidents", this time I am actually innocent...
Posters have been placed about town with the missing chap on it. Despite the fact that I have been tempted many a time to do so, personally I am offended at the possibility that someone else would use my Squiddy as a human disposal system. My methods of dispatching someone are decidedly less...sloppy. The perpetrator had better hope that the Sheriff finds them before I do. I am going to go and sharpen my claws now...

The Mystery of the Squiddy Thing

Upon my return to the warehouse, I found a rather interesting sight. My squiddy thing had mutated yet again, and some poor chap was in its gullet! Normally, the minions and I would "take care" of something like this, but wondering if it was some hapless Steelhead resident who chose to ignore my sign, I contacted the authorities...
Cato and I stood by watching as the Sheriff examined the squiddy thing. Neither he nor The Elf recognized the gentleman and suggested that we put out a poster. Fuzz's concern was that not only had the mutation been triggered, but that perhaps this was no accident. This man was either lured to it or murdered elsewhere and placed there! Only an autopsy could tell and we would have to have one done first. He mentioned something about blood on the property and such, but that is not an abnormal occurrence here. As he was in his lycan form, he stooped to get a closer look, his tail swishing against the ground. It was all that I could do to not to pounce upon it... The Sheriff sniffed the air, trying to catch a scent and to his surprise, he could not. Wolfsbane. "Rather good timing on their part," I said, mentioning the time of year and the heightened superstition among the folks...My property was cordoned off, but due to certain unknowns regarding the squiddy thing's digestive system, the body can not be easily extracted. Of course, as it happened on my property and I seem to have a bit of a "reputation", things seem to be pointing to me right now. I see a questioning in my future. Hmph. I am more discreet than this. If I did this, do you think I would have called them over to come see? Well now Steelhead, it seems we officially have a mystery going on...To follow along or join in the mystery, you can start with The Sheriff's official posting here. This is going to be an interesting month...I can feel it already.

The Most Wonderful Time of the Year

'Tis the most wonderful time of year...for me, that is. Superstition and fear. Ghouls and monsters prowl the streets. Ahhh...it warms my heart. I thought I'd have a look around Steelhead and found a residual haunting taking place...
The words "Stay Out" have never particularly bothered me...I know an infestation when I see one...But the Elf had the blackest heart of us all...Back at the warehouse, I was having my own problems. Not only had my squiddy thing mutated again, but someone did not read the sign...or did they? I called The Elf and The Sheriff to investigate as something seems rather amiss here--even for me. My poor squiddy thing...
A Happy Halloween to you too?

to be continued...

Spooky Stories in Steelhead

I rather enjoy spooky stories, so I put down my wrench for a moment and left the lab to hear some at the Steelhead Ballroom last night. I rather cackled at Mr Otoole's "dog oil" story by Ambrose Bierce and enjoyed the other readings as well. Alright, back to work for me!

A Restorative Soup and a Turkey Flock

I paid a visit to Willard today. After all, I must keep my Rodent language practice going. He squeaked with laughter over a "Steam Willard" winning a trophy in the recent build contest and mused about if he was made of metal and all of the things that he would do. "First of all, I would bet it'd be good at gnawing!" he said. "After all, rats are good at gnawing things!" I groaned...
And for the love of Bastet do not tell Willard about the bowl of rattail soup that I left at The Elf's home. My minions did manage to whip up a pot of it from an old family recipe of mine. It is said to cure all ills--or create new ones. I can not quite remember... I realized that The Elf's garden seemed to be teeming with rather large gobbling turkeys. I cackled a bit as they came closer. Yes, my gobblers...closer...
I thought I'd sit in my chair back at the warehouse and think about my idea a bit more...

I Don't Think This Is a Butterfly...

I caught this while out in the world last night. I thought it was a butterfly at first...

The Elf made me spit it out and it protested so much afterwards, that I gave it to him as a "gift." He said they tend to bite so he put it under a jar.

Oh My...I Have a Trophy

Well now...it seems my chupacabra creature won first place in its category in the Harvest Festival Steampunk Animal building contest in Steelhead...I had a moment to chat with The Elf about it and he was rather pleased with the entries, which I will admit, were rather interesting. The Elf himself has been feeling a bit poorly of late. Perhaps I can get the minions to prepare some rattail soup for him? I promise that it will not have any "extra" ingredients. *coughs*

Surveying the Place

Hmm...I suppose I am getting used to the look of the giant bolt in the front. It adds a certain "flair" to the warehouse.

A Building Contest

Hmm...it seems Steelhead is having a delightfully twisted take on a state fair blue ribbon contest: A Steampunk Build Contest for livestock, poultry and "other" animals!

I do believe I shall participate. I have until the 23rd to submit my entry. I suppose if others wish to participate as well, they need to let the Elf know before the 18th.

*cackles* Must get to work then! Where's my wrench?

My, What Large Wings You Have

I rarely attend social events in Steelhead as I am usually quite busy off tending to business or working in the laboratory. I thought I would take my customary walk through Steelhead and came upon the Friday night dance at the Capital City dock. I hesitated to go at first, pausing and ready to walk back to the warehouses. At the last moment, I changed my mind and was sitting there quietly on a crate watching the others when I smelled a familiar scent. I looked over and the purple-haired demon had seated himself nearby. I was surprised to see Chronos, as the last I knew he had been taken away. He asked me to dance and we had an interesting conversation.

If you have regularly perused this journal, then you know that I have participated in my share of campaigns and assorted underhanded schemes and such, but I do not get to chat about them much. After all, I am not a Siamese kitty, I know when to be quiet about those matters. I will admit that it was rather nice to talk with someone that did not seem to mind the rather questionable things that I have done and was also impervious to my sharp claws. We spoke of his confinement and he explained to me that he had been rescued. He is a most intriguing demon, not like any of the others that I have met before and especially not like that one, from so long ago.

Oh stop. 'Twas just a dance. If anything, my mother will be happy to know that the money spent on my dancing lessons was not in vain.

Ode to a Gasworks

Yesterday, as I stood before the now destroyed and much-despised gasworks in Steelhead City, I composed a little poem:

O gasworks, trees you did consume
Hated thing you were
With your gears and noise and saws
Amidst idyllic Steelhead green.

Those naysayers to progress
Adverse to soot
With their fresh air, clean living ways
A problem-solving "storm".

Such rubble, all about in ruins
Still now are your blades
Know all, there is only forward
Industry marches on!