Character(s): Ratigan
Content: The Napoleon of Crime arrives to Paixao
Setting: Nifleheim gate
Time: Afternoon
Warnings: Ratigan is a scheming ham
First thing's first, no one snatches Ratigan, no one. Thus his predicament of waltzing through one door into this--this...travesty of a place did not leave him in good spirits. For a moment the hulking beast of a rat turned his head to and fro to the icy gate, the domed architecture. He could already tell this place was nothing like London...Spain, maybe? Everything seemed so artificial, gaudy.
But no, the sights weren't important. What mattered was that someone outwitted him, someone whisked him away. He would blame his peg-legged cohort Fidget, but it seems the bat made himself conveniently unavailable. But oh yes, someone would face his ire.
Thankfully he hears the familiar flounce of a certain overweight cat. He rushes to the cat and embrace her, bemoaning, "Felicia, baby! Did they hurt daddy's little baby?"
But enough of tender moments, Ratigan lets go and fixes his suit.
He growls, "Someone has a poor sense of humor. But we know what to do with them, yes?"
The rat lends a nasty grin before continuing past the gate, gesturing for prim cat to follow.