Anthropomorphic

Ocicat Character

Portrait

Binky Pettifogger 

In the neon-drenched, shadow-laden streets of Anthroxville, a place where reality is stretched thin like a tightrope over an abyss of madness, an unspoken truth simmers just below the surface. It's a town where the improbable mingles with the mundane, where every corner turned reveals a new layer of the bizarre. Slinking about in the plain sight of this melting pot of the fantastical, is Binky Pettifogger, the last vanguard of a once illustrious league of pickpockets. A once proud vocation celebrated for their nimble panache, dexterity, and sleight-of-hand, the anthropomorphic ocicat and her fellow professional fingersmiths thrived in this happy hunting ground of pilferdom, cunningly dipping, lifting, and nifting their way through the continuous stream of unwitting chumps with sticky-fingered abandon. However, their profession has since dwindled to a mere whisper in the urban folklore.

So ubiquitous was this craft, that many believed Anthroxville itself was pickpocketed into existence. In a place where what became known as "The Invisible Hand" reigned supreme, and being graced by it's unannounced presence became a daily expectation, residents such as Clém de la Crème, Bridget Kookold, and Oskar Knullrufs would be taken aback, even slightly offended, to find their belongings untouched. To not be the target of such sly artistry was to feel snubbed, excluded from a fundamental communal experience. Even more so, if they had already made a series of burbling excuses in advance that they would love to pay what they owed but wouldn't be able to due to the fact that unfortunately their...oh, it's still here. This affrontery would be hard not to take personally – even more so if other members of their party had indeed been diddled, meaning they'd have to cover their costs on this sad occasion. “Did I do something wrong?” they would wonder aloud, visibly hurt by the apparent disregard, "Am I not worthy?"

When finding oneself on the receiving end of The Invisible Hand, it generally held that the more audacious, the higher the compliment, and there were legends of some daring hotshot (some say Binky herself) who even managed to swipe a pair of false-teeth without the victim having the faintest inkling that anything out of the ordinary was going on. Meanwhile, others such as Melvin Crinkle, Herma Frodite, and, Ripley Dither, while keen to let it be known that they respected the practice unreservedly, took preventative measures against it, such as shuffling about back-to-back in pairs, donning clothing tight enough to turn movement into a challenge, and even, planting nasty surprises in their pockets for any unsolicited so-and-so having a sneaky rummage. However, these countermeasures did little to deter the outfit of handsy practitioners, and if anything, only spurred them on further.

Pure chicanery at its finest, it nestled uniquely between the overt violence championed by the brutish headbangers Victor Wallop and John Knuckle, and the elaborate grandiosity of the heists and cons masterminded by such figures as Axel Kettlebell and Gregory Fromage. No, the cavalier pickpocket is a different breed from these folk; a rarity, requiring a unique concoction of grace, discretion, humility, and courtesy, which makes their demise all the more poignant. Unfortunately in Anthroxville these days, you are far more likely to encounter a demented smash n' grab, thrash n' stab, or, bash n' nab, than a charmingly quaint pocketpicking. Now, there are several speculations about why the dignified tradition is diminishing in Anthroxville, however, the anthro ocicat has taken it upon herself to rejuvenate this fading practice from this...