Post by qualapec on Mar 13, 2011 1:34:50 GMT -8
This one gave Brachen a reason when he looked for it.
Brachen had caught site of the tom staggering through the streets late at night, and had followed him. Afterall, he couldn't allow the tom to hurt himself or other cats in a drunken stupor. There was something lean, predatory in his movements as he followed - stalked - the tom, like the big cats he'd seen in India.
Nelson McGee couldn't walk right because the sidewalk kept moving. And it was dark out. He kept reaching out his paws to stabilize, but his depth-perception was off.
The queen was on the warpath and the liquor wasn't strong enough. He was looking for a way home, but more than anything he was looking for a fight.
Brachen easily maneuvered in front of the tom. His mouth quirked upwards in a nervous tic; this was a clumsy tom, a tom that had fists and liked to use them.
Nelson looked up, trying to get his blood-shot eyes to focus on the form that had appeared in front of him. "Whaddya want?" He slurred.
Brachen stared the tom down, wondered what his sins were. "A reason," he replied simply.
"Whaddas that mean?" Nelson didn't know what this cat was telling him. "Just get outta my way."
Brachen did not get out of his way. His stance might have seemed confrontational, but in reality, he was bracing for the kill. This was a bad cat. He was doing the world a favor, probably, however, his reasons were hardly altruistic - he just didn't like this one's face, didn't like the smell of the liquor on his breath.
Nelson balked at the tom's confrontational stance. He moved to shove past him.
Due to a combination of the drunken stupor and Brachen's experience in these matters, the tom probably never knew what hit him. Brachen lost himself in a focused barage of stabs - clearer than they had been when he killed the priest, something entirely more satisfying and vivid about this slaying.
When he came back to himself, however, he did experience a moment of panic. Fear of punishment from the authorities was, perhaps, the farthest thing from his mind. He thought of how disappointed Mac would be. Dammit, he'd promised he'd come to him if he needed help...and now he'd done it again and there was no taking it back.
Hide the body. Hide the body and ask Mac for help with "urges". Mac always helped them go away.
A stream ran through the park, and it was flooded because of recent rain. He grabbed a rock and the garrote wire he kept with him and approached the tom. It would be weeks before they found the body - by then, he planned to be either cured or out of Felidae.
"You aren't even one of them, are you?" He asked the corpse. "You're not like the others. You actually gave me a reason, yeah?"
The corpse gave no response.
((end thread))
Brachen had caught site of the tom staggering through the streets late at night, and had followed him. Afterall, he couldn't allow the tom to hurt himself or other cats in a drunken stupor. There was something lean, predatory in his movements as he followed - stalked - the tom, like the big cats he'd seen in India.
Nelson McGee couldn't walk right because the sidewalk kept moving. And it was dark out. He kept reaching out his paws to stabilize, but his depth-perception was off.
The queen was on the warpath and the liquor wasn't strong enough. He was looking for a way home, but more than anything he was looking for a fight.
Brachen easily maneuvered in front of the tom. His mouth quirked upwards in a nervous tic; this was a clumsy tom, a tom that had fists and liked to use them.
Nelson looked up, trying to get his blood-shot eyes to focus on the form that had appeared in front of him. "Whaddya want?" He slurred.
Brachen stared the tom down, wondered what his sins were. "A reason," he replied simply.
"Whaddas that mean?" Nelson didn't know what this cat was telling him. "Just get outta my way."
Brachen did not get out of his way. His stance might have seemed confrontational, but in reality, he was bracing for the kill. This was a bad cat. He was doing the world a favor, probably, however, his reasons were hardly altruistic - he just didn't like this one's face, didn't like the smell of the liquor on his breath.
Nelson balked at the tom's confrontational stance. He moved to shove past him.
Due to a combination of the drunken stupor and Brachen's experience in these matters, the tom probably never knew what hit him. Brachen lost himself in a focused barage of stabs - clearer than they had been when he killed the priest, something entirely more satisfying and vivid about this slaying.
When he came back to himself, however, he did experience a moment of panic. Fear of punishment from the authorities was, perhaps, the farthest thing from his mind. He thought of how disappointed Mac would be. Dammit, he'd promised he'd come to him if he needed help...and now he'd done it again and there was no taking it back.
Hide the body. Hide the body and ask Mac for help with "urges". Mac always helped them go away.
A stream ran through the park, and it was flooded because of recent rain. He grabbed a rock and the garrote wire he kept with him and approached the tom. It would be weeks before they found the body - by then, he planned to be either cured or out of Felidae.
"You aren't even one of them, are you?" He asked the corpse. "You're not like the others. You actually gave me a reason, yeah?"
The corpse gave no response.
((end thread))