Here Kitty, Kitty, Kitty // [ DW vs. 2 Hellcats ]

I felt no fear as I camped by myself for the first night in the arena, as far away from my "allies" as protocol allowed. I did not trust them, despite their proven attacks and promised protection. No, they could be left to their own devices as long as I was allowed mine. Besides, if the mother of death chose to claim me by their hands, it would only be a relieving sigh at the end of our first, horrible day.

It seemed as if the ghouls themselves feared my blade, and as a result, it was a rather quiet night in a dark corner of the maze. Nobody disturbed me the entire night, nobody came to seek revenge. I almost did not want the peace of my solitude to end, but sure enough, the stubborn sun fought the binds of my wariness with its brilliant rays and the spell was forced to end.

An empty stomach rumbled a demanding yelp and I did my best to force the hunger away. I needed to carry on for just another day. Human needs would not do in a place like this. They only made you a picture of weakness. I often fought with this part of myself. My humanity. If only I could replace blood and bones with steel and courage, then the Capitol's true, cold-hearted beast could emerge. I was only as good as the mutts, trained to kill, kill, kill. I had no greater purpose. In the end it became only my desperate need for water that forced my aching bones to gather my things and slump away from my heavenly nesting spot. I trudged through the hedges once more, my eyes open for my group of allies.

The bushes looked so different in the early daylight. Were they too peaceful? Something about nightfall had made their pruned shapes intimidating and aggressive (and perhaps it was only the bittersweet corpses thrown into the welcoming arms of such a twisted arena), but I felt almost relaxed as I navigated their unfriendly pathways, Siana's compass acting as a guide. If anyone wanted to attack me now, they would have a hard time of assuring the element of surprise. I could see the world in perfect color, with ears as clear as day and the haze of yesterdays constant battles erased from my mind. Sleep had done me well, and even the once stinging gash from an axe buried thick into my chest had faded. I felt more alive than ever before.

It almost made me want to sing, but of course that would only alert any would be attackers of my presence. Would they only aim for me if I seemed vulnerable? How weak! Instead, I crept forward with lips tightened in silence, relieved to see an opening in the endless hedges ahead. No longer would I be trapped, for this was only the beginning of the arena.

Three little figurines stood at the entrance of whatever it was we now faced. I remembered their names from the night before. Storm. Sticky. Jim. I guess their company would be better than nothing, although the thought of running around alone was certainly enticing. Yet something tells me that would not be the wisest thing to do, not when there are tributes dead set on their revenge. I was the lonely assassin after all. I push forward and extend an empty hand in a hope to reveal my intentions. Come on, trust me. You know you want to.

They shouldn’t, but they do anyway. They pretend that they’re not the lambs and I’m the predatory lion crouched on patrol, yet when I shake their hands I know they can feel my claws ever so gently scraping their tainted hands. I wear a smile and bat bloody eyelashes but they know what I am and what I have done, and they choose to accept my company regardless. They know traveling in packs is the traditional method of survival in this gladiator-favoring game. I know they’re not the gladiators, though. They’re merely sacrifices to my cause, mincemeat as offerings to my fellow lions stalking with crimson-painted fangs. We exchange our familiar greetings and settle together in our newest Hell.

A massive, sickly green appendage rises from the soil in front of where we stand today like mice compared to its towering glory. It was the beanstalk from the day before, the one we had only seen in the distance and had mistaken for a trick of our minds. For one glorious second, I am tempted to climb its welcoming arms, one last attempt to conquer yet another rebellion. I wonder what doom lay at the top of its inviting body? Surely it could only be something so dark, so playful, that it was reserved for the ones who had refused to comply in the training center.

I thought about my score of three. Did that mean I was a worthless career, or did it mean they only wanted to make me disappear? The blood on my hands negated the former consideration. By default, it could only be their last stamp of disapproval, an attempt to get the world to forget about me until the day of my death. Had I proven them wrong?

A coward once told me (and I believe his name was Vinnie Taylors), "Do not let these games become your last regret." I thought he was only kidding, for he was a man full of regrets. I held his list of regrets and desires in my pockets, didn't I (I would not know, for I had refused to read them)? Yet his words rang true, and for one, positive juncture of time I felt tempted to heed them.

"Do you think we should climb it or...?" I asked the group around me. They were significantly worse for wear than my trembling form, and it made me almost grateful. Surely I would not be the first victim in this gathering of misfits.

Just as my feet bound forward to explore the towering stalk, fate pounced. Instinctively I grabbed my knife from its home within my belt and shoved my arm towards the first of our two feline attackers.

"Is that you, death?" I inquiry as my blade buries itself in the cat's thigh, shooting sticky blood onto my arms, "Does this mean we are playing your games?" With just a couple attacks, the mutt is weakened, but not dead. If this is how they wanted to play, I would gladly play along. For now.

[attacks Hellcat #1 with knife]
[dice=200+2000]
[ Stabbed in Thigh -- 8.5 damage +1 blades]

I take a moment to look around the area where I'm at. I take a hand and rub my eyes to make sure my eyes aren't failing me. I blink a coupe times before realizing what's before me. A giant beanstalk. Jack and the beanstalk. The giant. Does a giant reside here? It's larger than anything I've ever seen. My chin drops to the ground as I lower my weapon to my side. I look over at Jim. I want to talk to him, to tell him that I'm alright, but it was silent and I couldn't hear him last night. I want to tell him I'm glad he's alive, but no words form on my tongue. I just point at the beanstalk. It's larger than I imagined from anything I've seen in the books. I never realized it was as large as it is here. I'm in that world I wanted to escape to. I'm in the fantasy world that only exists in my dreams, but the only difference is, I'm fighting here. I'm fighting for my own survival. "It's good to see you all. I'm glad you all have survived." I look at the other company we have. It's not people; it's giant cats.

When I was younger, I would set at home watching the games. I never understood what was exactly going on. I would find someone to cheer for. I would find someone I wanted to win, but I never knew the the price that had to be paid for someone to walk free. I didn't know that people died for someone to win. I was forced to watch the games last year with a different attitude. My brother cousin was in the games. I had to watch to see how he did. I had to see if he won the games, but he didn't win. He died in the very beginning. He died the first death. He came home cold, stiff, and pale in a wooden box that we buried under the ground. I spat words of hatred against the Capitol. I told them how much I hated them for taking Jabber away from us. I wasn't afraid to show it. They took him away from me. All the stories they would tell were lies. They fed us lies, and I hate liars.

It would be so much easier right now if they never lied to me. I would accept the fact that I'm going to die, but today, I cannot do that. I want to live because I have to prove to them that I am more than they say I am. I have to prove to them that I won't allow lies to go on further than they need to know. Oh look, I'm the president. I love you all so very much. I love you more than anyone could imagine, but I'll make sure families are torn apart. I'll tear them apart for my own joy. That's how much I love you. Citizens of the Capitol are watching the games right now. They are watching as the innocent fight for to the death. It's a show. It's a comedy to see who can last the longest. They are betting on who will win. They love us so much. They love us so much I'm standing here trying to kill others so I can go home. I'm not a killer. I don't want to kill, but without killing I can't win.

I swung my glaive earlier. I swung blindly before I knew who or what was in front of me. I aimed to attack. I aimed to kill. Maybe I am a killer. Maybe killing is fun. Maybe killing will be worth it because other people are killing. I don't even know what's going on. One minute I was in the maze, then I was here. I don't see other tribute surrounding me, but these evil cats. We all want to survive, but I want it more. I must go home to Red to read him a story. I must return to Mist, my twin. I must make them proud. I watch as the glaive fly through the air hitting this cat leaving a deep gash on the back of the one that's standing here in front of me. Cats are supposed to be nice, but any cat in hell will be evil. Pain surges through me as I stare at those surrounding me, my allies. My fellow fairies. I try to keep strong. I try to fight the tears from my eyes, but it's impossible right now. I don't know what to do. I'm trapped, but I can hear. I can hear the sounds of those surrounding me, and a grim smile grows on my face. "Storm, i'll greet you brother in the afterlife."

Why am I fighting? Why am I trying to kill people? I don't want to kill anyone. I just want to go home. I grwant to be with my family. I place a hand to my head to run my fingers through my hair. I'm trying to relax myself, but something goes terribly wrong. My hair is missing. Am I dead? Where has my hair gone? My hair has been replaced with a cloth. It's not the hat that I was forced to place on when I came into the arena. I grab part of the cloth and jerk on it removing it from my head. I lower it down in front of my face. My underwear. Holy shit. What am I doing? Who's underwear is on my head? I look down at my feet, and my boots are missing, and my tunic is wrapped around my waist. Tied to my neck is my pants. My eyes widen as screams flow from my mouth. The damn cats attack Jim and Beatrice. Why am I here? What am I doing? I swing my glaive at the hellcat hoping to kill it. It's time for this thing to die. ""Jim, you're always talking about death. If you say death one more time, I will duct tape your mouth shut so you can't speak anymore!" We are bros. You can't speak to me like this anymore.

Narration 4C4361
Thoughts A091AE
Hearing 80779B
Speech A3A3D0
Other DECDD1

Storm attacks hellcat #1 with Halberd
[dice=200+13000]

Results: 13112 -- Shallow Cut on Back -- 4.0 damage

OOC: Credit for this lovely header goes to Toni <3

It happened so fast; Beelzebub, one of the strongest hellcats ever to live, falls. Lucifer had seen that his companion was utterly overwhelmed by the steel claws flying at him, slicing his coat bloody and raw. Lucifer tried his best, but the humans were numerous and so fast, and though the felines had taken them by surprise, it hadn't been enough. After Beelzebub fell, the last remaining cat expected the humans to retreat. But they didn't; they began to attack him instead. When the first blade slid across his skin, Lucifer was newly invigorated—these humans would die. Right now.

[Lucifer attacks Jim, teeth (knife)]
[dice=200+2000]
[severed thumb left hand 8.5]

-attacks hell cat 2-

[dice=200+2000]
2191 -- Shallow Cut on Right Shoulder -- 3.5 damage

"You piss me off, little kitty. And you know what happens to things that piss me off? ... They die."

Filler #2 YAHOO