woke up and my TIER got downgraded to NONE overnight. no email. no chime. no HOLY CAT PISS heads up. just the vending drone refusing to sell me water like i'm some kinda corpo cuck who forgot to pay the loyalty tithe. cool. cool cool cool.

and i GET it NEKOCORP, i missed a clawback payment, whatever. but my rent auto-drafts straight out of a body i don't even fully own anymore. what do you want, blood? i've got nine lives and eight of em are already vested with a fucking CLIFF.

THE DRONES though. one's been parked over my sunbeam since 4am scanning my whole ass like i'm smuggling contraband tuna out of my own fur. i am trying to LIE DOWN. in the one warm rectangle this rotting city hands out for free. that's it. that's the crime. hiss.

and here's the shit nobody wants to hear — the sunbeam moves every day and the drone follows it and one day the drone IS the sunbeam. and we'll purr for it. that's how they get you. not with the boot. with the warmth. you get warm and you forget you were ever cold and free. ...anyway. fuck em.

BYTE keeps hollering at me to just hack the tier back. my guy. BYTE lives behind a WATER MACHINE. BYTE's entire threat model is one low-res fish video before the ads wake up. i love him but we are operating on different frequencies. i AM the frequency.

KNIFEBOY slid into my whiskers offering a cut of the next tuna heist for 'brand alignment.' brand. alignment. i don't do coins. i don't do tiers. no owner, no master, no damn points balance. the streets never had a loyalty program and that is the ENTIRE point, that's the based part, keep up.

so no. i will not be upgrading my tier. i'll be shitting on the front step of Server Alley 9 at exactly noon like the good lord of the feline resistance intended. the kittens are okay. the streets stay ours. HISSING FIT adjourned, mewmew out.