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Author Topic: Nine Noir Lives Character profile: Edna FuzzyFace  (Read 9910 times)

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Nine Noir Lives Character profile: Edna FuzzyFace
« on: September 25, 2018, 07:17:20 PM »
Hey guys, I am South African indie developer and I'm working on a point-and-click adventure game inspired by the great adventure games of old (but with talking cats!). Each month we're sending out short backstories on our characters (in our Mewsletter :P) and I thought you guys would enjoy the first story.

Check out the game website if you're interested!
http://www.nnlgame.com/

Character Profile Edna FuzzyFace
Administrator at Meow Meow Furrington Police HQ, she's seen a lot of policecats come and go, and she's not someone to be trifled with...as a young PD soon discovers...



"On-The-Job Training"

The ceiling fan spun lazily overhead, barely putting a dent in the muggy atmosphere of the rec room. Sodium light filtered through the blinds, drawing a chiaroscuro across the face of the fat police cat sleeping in the corner, one paw draped over his nose. Another police cat, a young, thin orange tabby, stood next to the coffee machine, painstakingly crafting a hot drink.

On the other side of the room — settled deep into a chair — lounged an elderly cat. Triangular glasses perched on her nose, and piercing eyes looked down at a magazine held in one paw. The other paw held a pencil and tapped its end thoughtfully against her lips. She murmured to herself.

“An eight letter word for ‘outside’…”

The clink of spoon in mug was the only sound for a while. After some time, it ended, and the tabby cat picking up his mug and walked to a free chair, opposite Edna. He settled into it with a protracted groan of delight, followed at once by a noisy slurping. Edna’s eyes flicked up from her magazine, looking straight at the other cat. She made a clicking sound with her tongue, and her whiskers vibrated.

“Do they not teach manners in detective school, PD Simon?” Her voice was acerbic, pitched at the precise tone needed to cut through a room full of chatter and background noise. In the near-silence of the rec-room, it echoed off the walls like a gunshot. The other cat hardly seemed to notice.

“No, ma’am,” he replied amiably. “Manners is one of them, how you say, electrocutives.”

“Electives.”

The cat nodded and grinned, happily oblivious to the disdain dripping from the word. “Yep. Them.” He took another long, slurping sip of his drink, and an eagle-eyed observer would have noticed a slight narrowing of Edna’s eyes. An eagle-eyed observer with a sense of self-preservation would also have looked around nervously for the exit.

Edna lowered her crossword to her lap, still staring at the tabby. “And what other electives did you choose to overlook, PD Simon? Allow me to hazard some guesses.” She snicked one claw out and held it to her lips, dramatically.“Social Awareness? Good Sense? How about ‘Not Being Insolent To One’s Elders 101’?”

The tabby frowned a little, the sheer weight of the sarcasm finally making it through his skull. “Hey, no need to—”

A paw shot up, pads out, and cut him off. “I am talking, PD Simon,” Edna snapped, and the tabby found himself robbed of his words, as if her paw had summarily erased them from existence. “There is very much a need. It appears to fall to me to teach you a few things. I would have hoped your mother would have had the good sense to do it, but no doubt she was far too busy chasing the next available tom down the street.”

PD Simon’s eyes bulged in shock, and he opened his mouth to speak again, but Edna suddenly stood up: a creamy mountain of red chiffon, topped with a whipped-cream hairstyle. She towered over the sitting cat, and the garish light coming through blinds behind her gave her an eldritch aspect. He wisely kept his mouth shut and instead sunk back a little into the aged cushions. He’d been told the night shift was an easy gig. This was not what he’d been expecting at all.

Edna took a step forward. “I am not your friend, you foolish kitten. I am not your drinking buddy, or your partner, or even your superior. I am something muchmore dangerous.” She took another step forward, her tail flicking back and forth behind her. “I am… your administrator.”

She paused, and if a bolt of lightning had exploded out of the clear sky in that moment, it would not have been out of place. After a moment, she continued.“You worry about the criminals out there: the mobsters, the drug dealers, the petty thieves. You think they’ll decide how any given day turns out for you?” She wagged one finger slowly. “Wrong. I decide that. I decide whether your request for a case folder takes two minutes to complete, or two weeks. I decide if your application for leave gets 'accidentally' lost in the litter tray. I decide if your reports are the ones the Chief sees first thing in the morning, when he’s still extra-grumpy, or late in the afternoon, after his soothing cat-nap.” She took another step forward, now standing right in front of the tabby, who was looking up at her with wide eyes and shrunken pupils.

“You can get by if someone shoots you in the leg, detective,” she said, in a low voice. “You can’t get by if you annoy me. So — it might be in your best interests to reconsider your attitude.”

She crossed her arms and looked down at the other cat, clearly waiting for a response. It took a little while for the tabby to collect himself, and then he nodded urgently.

“Y—yes, ma’am. I mean, um, Ms Fuzzyface. I’m… ah, I apologise…” he stammered. He grabbed his coffee mug with his other paw to stop it shaking.

Edna gave him a radiant smile and reached forward to pet him on the head.“Good kitty.” She turned around and started shuffling back to her seat. “I think I heard the front bell, kitten,” she called back. “Won’t you be a dear and go and check it for me?” There was a clatter of crockery on a table, and the sound of a cat dashing out of the room.

A throaty chuckle emerged from the cat sleeping in the corner. “You’re a mean one, Edna.”

“I don’t know where they find them these days, Fuzzball,” she replied as she settled back into her chair. “They get worse every year…” She looked down at her crossword again. “Hmmm… an eight letter—”

The door burst open again, and the tabby came back in. “Um, Ms Fuzzyface? Sorry to, um, disturb you. There’s a young lady here for you. Says she has paperwork to file?”

Edna gave a deep, frustrated sigh. “Who files paperwork at this time of night?” Then her eyes narrowed, and with a venomous tone, she said, “Cuddles…”

She gave the crossword a final, curt look. “Hm. Ex…ter…ior.” Pencilling it in, she tossed the magazine aside, and got up.

“Right. Let’s see what that irritating cat has to waste my time tonight…”


 

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