Today is of the Cycle Of The Seventh Moon.
Current Season & Month:  , Year: 543 A.R. (ref)

⛓️ "Champion's Suit...
 
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⛓️ "Champion's Suite" - Fight Pit [The Oubliette]


Lassroyale
(@lassroyale)
Patron Saint of Hawtbois, Catboys, & BAMF Babes Noble
Joined: 1 year ago
Posts: 862
Journey starter  
TC Holding Cell (ChampionQtr) [FIGHT.PIT Shaarn]

Shaarn Nalos

[Casino Zone]

From:  The Oubliette - GRAND ARENA

╺ ✽ ╸

The Oubliette

"Underground Holding Cell"

Champion's Suite

Spoiler
Holden De'Ville (Pit Boss)

Holden DeVille (PIT BOSS) 48


[Corridor up to:]  The Oubliette - GRAND ARENA


Located on the opposite end of the underground arena from the Monster Holding Cells is the so-called, "Champion's Suite".  Holden De'Ville, the proprietor and pit boss likes to joke that their champions enjoy "5-star accomodations" for however long they are a guest of The Oubliette -- it's just too bad that no champion has stayed alive longer than 3 days.

╺ ✽ ╸

The Champion's Suite is a glorified holding cell comprised of drab gray concrete walls; reinforced steel bars, and thick shackles located along the bloodstained walls and floors.  The Champion's Suite is set inside of a large, subterranean "cellar" that can only be accessed via a heavily reinforced door with a cast iron locking mechanism. This, along with the steel bars of the holding cell itself, provides two points of security against both escape and rescue attempts.

The Oubliette does graciously provide a few "ameneties" for their champions, including a small bed with a threadbare mattress, a sturdy wooden table with built-in arm and leg restraints, semi-private indoor plumbing, and a shower, though calling it a shower is being generous.  (Truthfully, to call any of these things "ameneties" is being undeservedly kind.)  The "shower" is large 6'x6' tiled square set into the corner of the cell, inset with a drain and thick 'o'-rings with shackles and chains attached to each wall.  A metal showerhead juts straight out of the bare wall, with the controls for the water (heat and pressure) located outside of the cell.  Although kept fairly clean, the tiles surroudning the drain are stained with a permanent, rusty red ring.

The shower is partially closed off from the rest of the space by a half wall comprised of some sort of semi-opaque blocks, which helps ensure that the Champion's Suite is always clean and dry.  Likewise, the "bathroom" is a small area near the shower closed in on three sides by the same semi-opaque blocks, affording the suite inhabitants the pretense of privacy.

Most notably, the Champion's Suite is down the hall from Holden and Corrine's personal living quarters, giving The Oubliette's proprietors almost unfettered access to their chosen champion.  However, it is rare that the owners visit their guests in the Champion's Suite without at least one or two pit enforcers as protection.

 


Spoiler
Reinforced Door to the Champion's Suite

reinforced door to Champion Suite

Spoiler
Champion Suite 'ameneties'

TC Holding Cell (FIGHT PIT) (1)

Spoiler
Two layers of protection

TC Holding Cell (FIGHT PIT) (2)

 

 

TOM-CAT: [KIANA BEACH:First Stab - POUNCE (★1/2) - WATCHER BATTLE (3/★4/5/6/★7)] [GOBLIN SLAYING: (1)-(☆1/2)] – [ICE CAVES: CLIFFHANGER (★1/2) - POWDER KEG (★1/2/3) - HYPOTHERMIA (4/5/6) - BONDED (7/8/9/)] [SUNSTEALER:(1/2/3/4)-(1/2)] –Miiya & Cat-Tom [SPARRING: (1/2/★3)] - ☆The Great Tipsu Hunt! - ☆Stolen Kiss Overwhelmed by Intimacy Returning to Her Bath Time Bonding Wings, Tails, & Love Cave Storms Climbing the Walls [1st KISS: Chase-(★2/3/4)] Cat-Tom: Rescue Kitty! Cat-Tom vs. Skaven (Forced) Shift Back 9 Lives A Beast in the Darkness Reuniting w/Teleskela Bored Nihilism Cat vs. Dragon Emotionally Exhausted Bath Catboy, Interrupted All For Her Bellissimo Gato [BATH-HOUSE: Confessions(1/2/3/4)] Catboys Can Purr Bagels, Love Poems & Catnapping Love Poem [FIGHT PIT: CHAMPION SUITE (★1.No, no, no.../2a-2b/3.Prostitution/★4.Tipsu/5/6a-6b/★7a-7b.Holden's/Proposition) - GRAND ARENA (Leona/F#1/★F#4/★Cat-Tom vs.Werewolf: 1/2/3) - LOST (1/★2) - FOUND (3/4a-4b/5/★6.Swansong Kiss) - RESCUE (★1.Teleskela, MF'er/2/3.Reawakened Bond) - ESCAPE (4/5/6/7)]
───────────
DAETH: Breaking Callon - Pleasure w/Pain - Teasing Amarice - [DAYTRIP: LAVISH HAND (1/2/3a-3b/4.Sensing Death] - Kissing Fate(1a-1b) - Precariously Balanced Nature - At Long Last, Eddellyn - Soul Searching - Into the Maze - ★The Minotaur & The Labyrinth - Heart of the Maze - Before the Storm - Thunder & Honey - ★Ripped Gowns - ★Sensual Poetry - Warding Sigils - Hedonistic Filth & House-Sized Party Crasher - Confronting Maarazaar(1/2/3) - Ash Bunny Irihi - Cormeum MIA (stolen heart) - A Vow & Shadowy Msg
───────────
RISQUÉ: Fun with Fisticuffs!
[CHATTE]Enter Chatte - Chat w/Castor -Proposing the Race
[ASMODIEL & GALVINA] ★A Celestial & Demoness Play Cards - Asmodiel Smites a Feeder - An Angel & Aeros Walk Into a Bar... - Undaunted Spirit - Benediction
──────────────────
[☆ = favorite / ★= extra fave]


Irihi liked
Quote
Lassroyale
(@lassroyale)
Patron Saint of Hawtbois, Catboys, & BAMF Babes Noble
Joined: 1 year ago
Posts: 862
Journey starter  
TC tiedup hurt (FIGHTPIT Shaarn) nobkgrd

TOM CAT

A Felonious Feline 

╺ ✽ ╸ 

DAY 1

"The Day the World Went Away"


[OOC: forcibly taken from the Winkelstith Polytechnic Institute - Private Recovery Suite (Central Building, GROUND FLOOR) ]  

 

 

The air is cool and crisp.  As he wakes with a low groan of pain and pulls in a short, fast breath, Tom-Cat detects the faintest touch of mildew in the corners of his mouth.   He moves sluggishly, the back of his skull smarting violently from a blow he doesn't remember. His cheek is resting on something hard and he realizes he's laying on his side, the left part of his face pressed against what feels like cold pavement. The back of his throat is coated with copper; his mouth is wet and sticky, and when he reaches up and brushes his lips with two fingers, they come away smeared red.

 

Everything aches.  

 

He lifts his head and hears the clink of metal before he feels the heaviness of the collar around his neck.  The fog of unconsciousness begins to curl away more rapidly as alarm tears through him, nipping his senses into full wakefulness.  There's a yawning blankness in his memory that he can't penetrate, can't recall, and the knowledge of missing time intensifies his rising dread. Gripped by a sudden, blind, panic, Tom-Cat heaves himself upwards without thinking.  

 

He doesn’t get far. 

 

He discovers that his collar is attached to a thick length of metal chain that immediately pulls taut, a jolt shuddering through his body as he’s slammed to a jarring halt.  He cracks his knees against the hard concrete  floor with bruising force and an audible SMACK!  that reverberates in his ears.

 

The pain is bright and sudden, shocking him into full awareness. As soon as it does, he wishes it hadn’t.  Something close to horror grips him, his mind rearing back from the starkness of his situation.  He tastes terror coat the inside of his cheeks as he tries not to hyperventilate, suddenly lightheaded.  A moan shivers up his throat as the world spins sickeningly, like a tilt-o-whirl with broken gears.  The floor lurches and shifts beneath him dizzily and he hunches over, almost dry heaving as fear and panic claws up his spine.   He feels hot and nauseous, dread clenched like a fist in the pit of his stomach. 

 

That's not what makes Tom-Cat feel nauseous, however.  What makes him feel weak, dizzy, and sick with potent and primitive fear, is the fact that he's been stripped bare.

 

No, no, no… 

 

He’s helpless against the jag of frenzied panic that erupts from deep beneath the surface of that blighted, ravaged place within him. 

 

No, no, no

 

Panic overtakes him.  His chest is constricted by iron bands of alarm and terror, making it difficult to draw air into his lungs.  His thoughts begin to race, crashing together and becoming impossible to separate, making his mind shell-shocked and dazed. 

 

Only one thought is clear, distinct:  No, no, no…

 

...(Please...not again.) 

 

With it comes an all-abiding, all-encompassing Fear.  

 

Fear, that sucks out his bone marrow and dams it with lead.  

 

Fear, that deadens his limbs and cements him to the spot.  

 

Fear, that he’s never forgotten.  

 

Fear, that Tom-Cat hasn’t felt in so long, not since…what little there is in his stomach rushes up throat and he heaves violently.  

 

What comes up is a sour-tasting mess of partially digested bagels mixed with a good amount of lox, all borne upon a river of milk and a water left over from what he’d forced himself to drink during Miiya’s grueling surgery.  It’s a wonder he’d even been able to choke down the lox and bagels, his focus and worry over Miiya’s surgery having mostly robbed him of his appetite.

 

It doesn’t take long until he’s only vomiting up liquid.

 

It doesn’t matter. 

 

He keeps heaving until his esophagus is scraped raw with clear bile.  He continues to dry heave until his stomach is sour and his abdominals are cramped, until he feels scoured out and exhausted. Even then, every time he thinks about the source of his fear, he feels like he’s going to be sick, over and over again.  Kwesh...he can’t, he just can’t.  Not again.  He can’t.  Never again. He can’t won’t suffer through it.  He will end it  before he allows himself to be subjected to that, used like that, ever again. 

 

Never. 

 

Never again. 

 

He’d rather die. 

 

He feels shaky from the force of his dry heaves, a fine tremor in his limbs that has nothing to do with the chilly air against his bare skin. The world spins lazily around him and the floor under him seems to gently sway, as little by little his tunnel vision begins to recede. He  shivers as he wills away the revulsion in the pit of his stomach, that sickening dread that makes his skin want to crawl away from his bones.  He  manages—just barely—to tamp it down with considerable effort, though he can’t chase it away completely.  

 

Weak, jookan weak. 

 

Kwesh, he’s so goddamned  pathetic.   He needs to get a handle on himself, to recall his training…to remember the promise he made to himself back then—back when he was just stupid little Tom-Cat. The promise that he would never allow himself to be weak again.  The promise that he wouldn’t let himself be weak enough to be used like that, for anything, again.  The promise that he’d kill himself rather than let someone break him, hurt him, like that ever again.

 

He can’t. 

 

He won’t. 

 

Never again.

 

Tom-Cat scrubs his forearm across his mouth and releases a shuddering breath, trying to get a handle on himself, on his thoughts, on his panic and fear.  He inhales a deep breath through his nose and exhales through his mouth, recalling the yoga and breathing techniques Cheshire taught him for meditation.  It takes a few minutes before the room stops bucking beneath him and the bile in his throat ebbs.  Slowly, he’s able to smooth the jagged edges of his fast, panicky breaths.  

 

He exhales. 

 

It’s not as shaky.  

 

Gradually, he feels the panic begin to recede and pull away from the edges of his mind, leaving him with a clearer head. 

 

He finally takes a full look at his surroundings, seeing past the shadows into the four corners of the dark room.  He forces himself to be as objective as possible as he takes note of the room around him, even as the gravity of the situation sinks its teeth into his spine, tension coiling through his body as he easily picks out different details in the darkness.  Tom-Cat  turns to look at the wall behind him, when a tug and the clink of metal links instantly reminds him of the collar and chain.  The catboy grips the chain where it attaches to the collar around his neck, and sights along its length until he sees a thick metal ring riveted to a plate in the ground.   Hate and anger sweeps through him like a flash-fire and burns through all other emotions.

 

He’s chained down.  

 

Trapped.  

 

Like an animal. 

 

TOM-CAT: [KIANA BEACH:First Stab - POUNCE (★1/2) - WATCHER BATTLE (3/★4/5/6/★7)] [GOBLIN SLAYING: (1)-(☆1/2)] – [ICE CAVES: CLIFFHANGER (★1/2) - POWDER KEG (★1/2/3) - HYPOTHERMIA (4/5/6) - BONDED (7/8/9/)] [SUNSTEALER:(1/2/3/4)-(1/2)] –Miiya & Cat-Tom [SPARRING: (1/2/★3)] - ☆The Great Tipsu Hunt! - ☆Stolen Kiss Overwhelmed by Intimacy Returning to Her Bath Time Bonding Wings, Tails, & Love Cave Storms Climbing the Walls [1st KISS: Chase-(★2/3/4)] Cat-Tom: Rescue Kitty! Cat-Tom vs. Skaven (Forced) Shift Back 9 Lives A Beast in the Darkness Reuniting w/Teleskela Bored Nihilism Cat vs. Dragon Emotionally Exhausted Bath Catboy, Interrupted All For Her Bellissimo Gato [BATH-HOUSE: Confessions(1/2/3/4)] Catboys Can Purr Bagels, Love Poems & Catnapping Love Poem [FIGHT PIT: CHAMPION SUITE (★1.No, no, no.../2a-2b/3.Prostitution/★4.Tipsu/5/6a-6b/★7a-7b.Holden's/Proposition) - GRAND ARENA (Leona/F#1/★F#4/★Cat-Tom vs.Werewolf: 1/2/3) - LOST (1/★2) - FOUND (3/4a-4b/5/★6.Swansong Kiss) - RESCUE (★1.Teleskela, MF'er/2/3.Reawakened Bond) - ESCAPE (4/5/6/7)]
───────────
DAETH: Breaking Callon - Pleasure w/Pain - Teasing Amarice - [DAYTRIP: LAVISH HAND (1/2/3a-3b/4.Sensing Death] - Kissing Fate(1a-1b) - Precariously Balanced Nature - At Long Last, Eddellyn - Soul Searching - Into the Maze - ★The Minotaur & The Labyrinth - Heart of the Maze - Before the Storm - Thunder & Honey - ★Ripped Gowns - ★Sensual Poetry - Warding Sigils - Hedonistic Filth & House-Sized Party Crasher - Confronting Maarazaar(1/2/3) - Ash Bunny Irihi - Cormeum MIA (stolen heart) - A Vow & Shadowy Msg
───────────
RISQUÉ: Fun with Fisticuffs!
[CHATTE]Enter Chatte - Chat w/Castor -Proposing the Race
[ASMODIEL & GALVINA] ★A Celestial & Demoness Play Cards - Asmodiel Smites a Feeder - An Angel & Aeros Walk Into a Bar... - Undaunted Spirit - Benediction
──────────────────
[☆ = favorite / ★= extra fave]


Wynterleaf and Irihi liked
ReplyQuote
Lassroyale
(@lassroyale)
Patron Saint of Hawtbois, Catboys, & BAMF Babes Noble
Joined: 1 year ago
Posts: 862
Journey starter  
TC tiedup hurt (FIGHTPIT Shaarn) nobkgrd

TOM CAT

A Felonious Feline 

╺ ✽ ╸ 


LPC's 

Spoiler
(Pit Boss) Holden De'Ville

Holden DeVille (PIT BOSS) 05

Spoiler
(Fight Wife) Corrine De'Ville

FightWife (Corrine Wriedt) [FIGHT.PIT Shaarn]

╺ ✽ ╸ 


DAY 1

"The Hand That Feeds"

 

Tom-Cat didn't know how long he'd sat there in the dark, chained to the floor, his long legs folded and cramped beneath him, but suddenly there was a 'click' and light from an unseen seen source overhead flared to life.  He immediately tucked his chin, momentarily blinded by the shift in brightness and waited for his eyes to adjust to the new level of light.  The glow of the light above his head cast a pale yellow glow on his surroundings, revealing the breadth and scope of the barred cell he’d woken up in.

 

He raised his head after his eyes had fully adjusted and took his first good look around at his surroundings.  He remained stoic as his yellow eyes roved over the cell’s various…fixtures, which included reddish stained concrete; o-rings bolted to various points across the walls and floor, some with thick chains of varying lengths attached to them; sturdy looking iron bars; a modest bed cot; a table with built-in straps; and a semi-private shower and toilet area.  The catling worked to keep his anxiety from rising and overtaking him.  He had to remain calm.  Tom-Cat had been captured and tortured exactly once, but he knew that if torture was the aim of whomever had drugged and captured him, then they wouldn’t have bothered to chain him to the floor.  He would have woken up already strapped to the wall or to a rack.

 

No, this was something else entirely. 

 

Though what remains to be seen.

 

He didn’t have to wait long to find out.

 

Less than five minutes passed before his sensitive ears perked forward, automatically swiveling to hone in on the sound of footsteps approaching the reinforced wooden door that served as the only point of entry to the room where he was being held.  The assassin went very still as he listened to the sound of the footsteps, picking out characteristics in gait and heaviness, quickly determining that there were five people approaching the door—at least two of them possessed the large, heavy footfalls he associated with heavies or enforcers.  The other three were harder to determine.  If he had to guess, he’d judge at least one of the approaching steps belonged to a woman, with the other two belonging to men who possessed a much lighter and fleet-footed gait than the pair of heavies with them. 

 

Tom-Cat drew himself up straight as he sat back on his heels, keeping his hands loose and relaxed atop his bare thighs.  He didn’t pay any mind to his nudity and his body language was almost indifferent as kept his intense, kohl-rimmed gaze trained upon the heavy door.  He heard someone insert a key into the door and twist it, then listened to what sounded like a fairly complicated locking mechanism disengaged itself; he heard gears turn and counted at least four or five bolts sliding open in succession.  At last, the heavy door was pushed and held open by the meaty hand of one of the bruisers, who appeared vaguely familiar for some reason.  Tom-Cat frowned to himself and grit his teeth; there was still a gaping blankness where his memories from before he woke up should be, and weren’t.  Whatever he’d been drugged with had wiped out the last several hours of his life, leaving him with only hollow blankness and vague impressions for him to use as he attempted to piece together what had happened.

 

Later.  Because it appeared as if his captors were paying him a personal visit.

 

Tom-Cat arranged his features into a tight, albeit neutral expression as he watched four people file into the room and approach the iron bars of his cage, while the bruiser who held the door open for them remained outside in the hall.  The catling coolly met the sharp, calculating, and hungry eyes of the apparent boss of this whole operation—whatever that may be—as the man walked right up the bars of the cell.  The man was flamboyant by even the tamest definition of the word, with a black and white theme carried throughout their attire that conveyed a sense of duality.  Even the man’s immaculately coiffed hair was two-toned, with one side black and the other side bleached white.  He felt the man’s eyes hungrily devouring him and had to work hard to keep from shivering in revulsion.  Instead, the catling let his own gaze sweep over them in turn, taking in their fabulously gaudy, black and white fur coat that even he can admit the guy wore with such confident ease that it honestly worked for them.

 

The felinoid met the man’s keen grey eyes for a moment, confidently holding their gaze with his own, before deliberately dismissing them by shifting his intense, yellow-gold eyes to the other people who’d entered the room with them.  He slid his gaze past the other bruiser; they didn’t interest him much, and he only briefly paused to take note of their impressive broadness.  He was much more interested in the sharply dressed gentleman with thin, wire-frame glasses who held a clipboard, and the very pretty, slender Drowess who stood quietly to the gaudy man’s right.  Though everything about her demeanor seemed to portray something demure, almost timid, Tom-Cat caught her looking at him with a violet-eyed gaze that was just as hungry, if not hungrier than that of the man’s.

 

After a moment, the extravagantly dressed man with the two-tone hair motioned to the bespeckled man with the clipboard, who in turn hastened to step up to their side.  Tom-Cat noted the crisp lines of their dark slacks, dress shirt, and waistcoat.  From the simpering look they gave the other man, he guessed that they were some sort of assistant or something. 

 

Larkin, open the cell,” said the man to his assistant.  “Max, go in there and put them on a longer chain.”  The man grinned sharply at him, his keen grey eyes slowly sweeping him from ear to toe.  “I want to see our champion in all of his…glory.  Don’t you agree, Corrine? I bet you can’t wait to see what our little moneymaker has to offer.” 

 

The Drowess, who Tom-Cat assumed was Corrine, flushed but didn’t deny the man’s words.  She unconsciously wet her lips and tried not to appear too over-eager.  As the sharply dressed Larkin unlocked the sliding door to his cell and Max’s wide frame filled the entrance, Tom-Cat couldn’t help his automatic response as his ears flattened to his head and he hissed, his eyes narrowing hatefully.  He waited until Max got close enough before he surged forward to the very end of his chain and lashed out, raking his claws over the bruiser’s thick arm.  He sunk the razor-sharp tips into Max’s arm and gouged deep furrows through the meat of their forearm, but before he could follow up with a slash to the bruiser’s throat, Larkin was at his side quick as a flash, with a thin blade pressed beneath the catling’s chin.  

 

Tom-Cat bared his teeth at Larkin’s grim, serious face in a cocky sort-of grin, his lips drawing back into an animalistic snarl when the man pressed the blade firmly against his throat, the sharp edge raising a thin line of blood.  He let his eyes drift down to the pale, long-fingered hand that held the blade and recognized the sureness of Larkin’s grip—Larkin wasn’t just the other man’s well-dressed assistant, he was also their bodyguard.  The pair stood like that for a tense minute before Tom-Cat conceded the standoff, deciding that it wasn’t in his best interest to get killed by some two-bit, knife-wielding bodyguard whist chained down in some dreary, underground cell. 

 

At least not until he found out why he’d been drugged and taken.

 

TOM-CAT: [KIANA BEACH:First Stab - POUNCE (★1/2) - WATCHER BATTLE (3/★4/5/6/★7)] [GOBLIN SLAYING: (1)-(☆1/2)] – [ICE CAVES: CLIFFHANGER (★1/2) - POWDER KEG (★1/2/3) - HYPOTHERMIA (4/5/6) - BONDED (7/8/9/)] [SUNSTEALER:(1/2/3/4)-(1/2)] –Miiya & Cat-Tom [SPARRING: (1/2/★3)] - ☆The Great Tipsu Hunt! - ☆Stolen Kiss Overwhelmed by Intimacy Returning to Her Bath Time Bonding Wings, Tails, & Love Cave Storms Climbing the Walls [1st KISS: Chase-(★2/3/4)] Cat-Tom: Rescue Kitty! Cat-Tom vs. Skaven (Forced) Shift Back 9 Lives A Beast in the Darkness Reuniting w/Teleskela Bored Nihilism Cat vs. Dragon Emotionally Exhausted Bath Catboy, Interrupted All For Her Bellissimo Gato [BATH-HOUSE: Confessions(1/2/3/4)] Catboys Can Purr Bagels, Love Poems & Catnapping Love Poem [FIGHT PIT: CHAMPION SUITE (★1.No, no, no.../2a-2b/3.Prostitution/★4.Tipsu/5/6a-6b/★7a-7b.Holden's/Proposition) - GRAND ARENA (Leona/F#1/★F#4/★Cat-Tom vs.Werewolf: 1/2/3) - LOST (1/★2) - FOUND (3/4a-4b/5/★6.Swansong Kiss) - RESCUE (★1.Teleskela, MF'er/2/3.Reawakened Bond) - ESCAPE (4/5/6/7)]
───────────
DAETH: Breaking Callon - Pleasure w/Pain - Teasing Amarice - [DAYTRIP: LAVISH HAND (1/2/3a-3b/4.Sensing Death] - Kissing Fate(1a-1b) - Precariously Balanced Nature - At Long Last, Eddellyn - Soul Searching - Into the Maze - ★The Minotaur & The Labyrinth - Heart of the Maze - Before the Storm - Thunder & Honey - ★Ripped Gowns - ★Sensual Poetry - Warding Sigils - Hedonistic Filth & House-Sized Party Crasher - Confronting Maarazaar(1/2/3) - Ash Bunny Irihi - Cormeum MIA (stolen heart) - A Vow & Shadowy Msg
───────────
RISQUÉ: Fun with Fisticuffs!
[CHATTE]Enter Chatte - Chat w/Castor -Proposing the Race
[ASMODIEL & GALVINA] ★A Celestial & Demoness Play Cards - Asmodiel Smites a Feeder - An Angel & Aeros Walk Into a Bar... - Undaunted Spirit - Benediction
──────────────────
[☆ = favorite / ★= extra fave]


Wynterleaf and Irihi liked
ReplyQuote
Lassroyale
(@lassroyale)
Patron Saint of Hawtbois, Catboys, & BAMF Babes Noble
Joined: 1 year ago
Posts: 862
Journey starter  

 

TC tiedup hurt (FIGHTPIT Shaarn) nobkgrd

TOM CAT

A Felonious Feline 

╺ ✽ ╸ 

“A cat's rage is beautiful, burning with pure cat flame, all its hair standing up and crackling blue sparks, eyes blazing and sputtering.” 

William S. Burroughs


LPC's 

Spoiler
(Pit Boss) Holden De'Ville

Holden DeVille (PIT BOSS) 05

Spoiler
(Fight Wife) Corrine De'Ville

FightWife (Corrine Wriedt) [FIGHT.PIT Shaarn]

╺ ✽ ╸


DAY 1

"Black Holes & Revelations"


 

Tom-Cat resheathed his claws and relaxed his stance, dropping back down to his knees.  Larkin continued to eye him, still tense, but nodded to Max after a moment or two.  Max had stumbled back when Tom-Cat attacked and now hovered behind Larkin, brooding, with storm clouds gathered over their creased brow as they clutched their bleeding arm.   When Larkin shot him a look, Max came forward and gruffly yanked on one of the chains attached to the wall behind him, filling the cell with the sound of metal sliding against metal as he drew the chain away from the wall and roughly clipped the end into the o-ring on Tom-Cat’s collar, before swiftly unhooking the original chain that had prevented him from standing.  Max hauled the felinoid none-too-gently up to his feet and shoved him towards the flamboyantly dressed man, who had taken it upon themself to enter the cell, much to Larkin’s protests.  They brushed off the bodyguard’s warnings with a flippant wave of their hand.

 

Oh you’re such a worry wart, Larkin,” the man lamented, with a roll of their eyes.  “I think our guest understands that it isn’t in their best interest to die in this cell—at least not if they want to have any chance of seeing their little feathered girlfriend, again.” 

 

At those words, Tom-Cat went eerily still.  The air rushed out of him all at once like he’d been suckerpunched, and a cold feeling of dread clenched in his stomach.  What did Miiya have to do with this? Was he here because…of her?  How? Why? The catling shook his head as if to clear it.  No.  He couldn’t, he wouldn’t, believe that she knew about or had anything to do with this—whatever ‘this’ was.  

 

He held up his gaze as the man sauntered up and proceeded to walk around him in a small circle.  Tom-Cat could practically feel the man’s eyes drag over him like a physical touch, and he swallowed down his revulsion which rose to the back of his throat like bile.  He just barely stopped himself from flinching when he felt the man’s red-leather clad fingers caress his ribs and trail down his side as they came back around and halted in front of him.  

 

"I apologize for not arriving sooner," the man remarked, their voice smooth and sophisticated.  They dramatically brought one of their red-gloved hands to their breast as they continued.  “But alas!  As the proprietor of the most successful fight pits in Nalos, I had some business to attend to.” 

 

Tom-Cat spotted the initials 'H.D.V.' etched in elegant lettering as the man brought out a narrow, silver cigarette case from the folds of the fur coat. He watched as they flipped open the lid and extracted a single skinny, pre-rolled cigarette with a fluid and well-practiced gesture.  They placed the cigarette between their lips and snapped the case shut, tucking it back into their coat and exchanging it for a slim, lipstick-red lighter.  They lit their cigarette with no grand fanfare, their eyelids fluttering for a moment as they pulled that first hit of smoke into their lungs.  The man smiled sleekly at the catling, letting the smoke trickle out from one corner of their mouth as they absently stowed away the lighter.

 

"I suppose I should identify myself," they said, adopting a leisurely stance with one arm crossed casually in front of them, gloved fingers curled lazily over their side, and their other arm bent, their cigarette held loosely near their face.  “My name is Holden De’Ville.”  Holden sketched out a shallow bow with a flourish of their fantastic fur coat.  They took another drag from their cigarette.  “I’m the owner and ‘boss’, if you will, of The Oubliettethe premier fight pit in Nalos.”  Holden chuckled and shrugged.  “Well, it’s the place where the high-rollers of Shaarn like to go when looking to wager on a bit of bloodsport, at least.  What can I say? We know how to put on a good show at The Oubliette.”  Holden then shifted their eyes to the petite Drowess who had quietly entered the cell behind them.  “And this lovely lady is Corrine De’Ville—my wife and the proprietress of the fight pit.  She doesn’t have much of a head for the nitty gritty of the business, but every business needs a pretty face to front it.  Isn’t that right, my dear?” Holden asked, holding out a free hand to her, which Corrine promptly took.  She dutifully stepped up next to Holden when they drew her forward and smiled at them adoringly.  “I said, ‘isn’t that right, my dear Corrine’,” Holden repeated, the faint threat of a growl in their tone.

 

Corrine’s eyes widened and she hastened to reply.  “Yes, Holden,” she exclaimed, her lilting voice quivering slightly.  

 

Yes Holden, what? Holden’s red leather glove creaked as their fingers tightened around Corrine’s hand. 

 

Yes Holden…umm, I’m not smart enough to run the business like you?” she ventured, wincing slightly as Holden’s grip on her hand increased.  She breathed out a thankful sigh when the pressure let up, though she dared not remove her hand from theirs.  Any traces of pain or discomfort were wiped away from her expression, however, when Holden pressed a kiss to the back of her hand and stroked a gloved thumb over her knuckles.

 

Exactly right, my darling,” Holden praised, letting go of Corrine’s hand after giving her fingers one more—much softer—squeeze.  “Of course, at The Oubliette, everyone has their place and has their purpose.  Which brings us to you.”  Holden returned their gaze to Tom-Cat, and Tom-Cat saw the cunning depths within those piercing grey eyes.  Holden reached out and stroked their fingers along the line of the catling’s shapely jaw, before gripping his chin and turning his face one way, then the other.  They made a little “Hmm,” in the back of their throat, before their gaze wandered down the length of Tom-Cat’s body.  A pleased, vaguely greedy smile turned up the corners of their lips.  

 

Yes, I think you will do very, very well.  Take note, Corrine,” Holden said, though kept their eyes squarely on Tom-Cat.  “This one is what I would consider to be a moneymaker, based on that face and body, alone.  And if they’re as skilled as I think they are…” Holden trailed off and whistled, their grin widening until their straight, white teeth glinted in the artificial light.  “Well then this Champion Fight Week will be one the bookies will be expounding upon for years to come.”

 

Tom-Cat couldn’t keep up the pretense of nicety and ripped his chin from Holden’s grip.  “Ta guele!he snarled, lips pulled back and fangs bared.  The barest sliver of yellow peeked out from beneath the lashes of his narrowed eyes, the crescent moon strip glowing in fury.  “What the jookan hell are you bir kurves going on about?” he demanded, every muscle within him tightly coiled as he fought to keep his animal contained.  

 

In response, Holden laughed.  “Oooh, you’ve got spirit,” they exclaimed, before their grey eyes grew heavy and unmistakably licentious.  “I like that,” they husked, bringing the cigarette to their lips and taking a slow drag.  They flicked their grey eyes across the catling’s bare form.  “But save it for the arena—for now.”  Holden cupped Tom-Cat’s cheek, unminding of the low hiss that boiled up Tom-Cat’s throat in response to the unwanted contact.  “Perhaps we can play later.”  Holden winked and dropped their hand, before turning away abruptly.  

 

They paused by the door to the cell and leaned against the iron bars.  “If you haven’t figured it out, kitty cat, you are The Oubliette’s newest champion.  You will fight in a series of…creature matches, over the week.  One fight a night.”  Holden shrugged and tossed down their partially smoked cigarette, stubbing it out under the pointed toe of an immaculate black boot.  “I’ve got a good feeling about you, but I feel that I should let you know that no champion has ever lasted more than 4 consecutive days in our arena.”  They raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow at him.  “Think you can last longer than that?

 

Without bothering to wait for or listen to Tom-Cat’s response, Holden gestured for Corrine, Larkin, and Max to follow as they exited the cell and disappeared through the reinforced door, which slammed shut after them and left the catling once more alone with his thoughts. 


[OOC: Tom-Cat to eventually be led toThe Oubliette - The Grand Arena for Fight#1  (after first getting "prepped") ]

TOM-CAT: [KIANA BEACH:First Stab - POUNCE (★1/2) - WATCHER BATTLE (3/★4/5/6/★7)] [GOBLIN SLAYING: (1)-(☆1/2)] – [ICE CAVES: CLIFFHANGER (★1/2) - POWDER KEG (★1/2/3) - HYPOTHERMIA (4/5/6) - BONDED (7/8/9/)] [SUNSTEALER:(1/2/3/4)-(1/2)] –Miiya & Cat-Tom [SPARRING: (1/2/★3)] - ☆The Great Tipsu Hunt! - ☆Stolen Kiss Overwhelmed by Intimacy Returning to Her Bath Time Bonding Wings, Tails, & Love Cave Storms Climbing the Walls [1st KISS: Chase-(★2/3/4)] Cat-Tom: Rescue Kitty! Cat-Tom vs. Skaven (Forced) Shift Back 9 Lives A Beast in the Darkness Reuniting w/Teleskela Bored Nihilism Cat vs. Dragon Emotionally Exhausted Bath Catboy, Interrupted All For Her Bellissimo Gato [BATH-HOUSE: Confessions(1/2/3/4)] Catboys Can Purr Bagels, Love Poems & Catnapping Love Poem [FIGHT PIT: CHAMPION SUITE (★1.No, no, no.../2a-2b/3.Prostitution/★4.Tipsu/5/6a-6b/★7a-7b.Holden's/Proposition) - GRAND ARENA (Leona/F#1/★F#4/★Cat-Tom vs.Werewolf: 1/2/3) - LOST (1/★2) - FOUND (3/4a-4b/5/★6.Swansong Kiss) - RESCUE (★1.Teleskela, MF'er/2/3.Reawakened Bond) - ESCAPE (4/5/6/7)]
───────────
DAETH: Breaking Callon - Pleasure w/Pain - Teasing Amarice - [DAYTRIP: LAVISH HAND (1/2/3a-3b/4.Sensing Death] - Kissing Fate(1a-1b) - Precariously Balanced Nature - At Long Last, Eddellyn - Soul Searching - Into the Maze - ★The Minotaur & The Labyrinth - Heart of the Maze - Before the Storm - Thunder & Honey - ★Ripped Gowns - ★Sensual Poetry - Warding Sigils - Hedonistic Filth & House-Sized Party Crasher - Confronting Maarazaar(1/2/3) - Ash Bunny Irihi - Cormeum MIA (stolen heart) - A Vow & Shadowy Msg
───────────
RISQUÉ: Fun with Fisticuffs!
[CHATTE]Enter Chatte - Chat w/Castor -Proposing the Race
[ASMODIEL & GALVINA] ★A Celestial & Demoness Play Cards - Asmodiel Smites a Feeder - An Angel & Aeros Walk Into a Bar... - Undaunted Spirit - Benediction
──────────────────
[☆ = favorite / ★= extra fave]


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Lassroyale
(@lassroyale)
Patron Saint of Hawtbois, Catboys, & BAMF Babes Noble
Joined: 1 year ago
Posts: 862
Journey starter  
TOM CAT (SelfHarm) [Shaarn FightPit]

TOM CAT

A Felonious Feline 

╺ ✽ ╸ 

DAY 3

"Play the Goddamned Part"

 

As a rule, Tom-Cat didn’t willingly kiss clients he’d been forced to service – he’d at least never initiated it, though he endured it when the client had demanded it.  He had lots of rules, all of which were broken or bent often enough, that they should probably have been called “suggestions, if it pleases you”, instead.  And he had one hard and fast rule: he didn’t reveal any kind of personal information, even if asked.  

It'd been Chester who had given him that advice; just another way in which his friend had protected him.

Chester hadn’t been Tom-Cat’s best friend in the brothel just because of the circumstances they’d gone  through together.  The half-Dryad had a way of looking into your eyes like he could see directly into your soul, as if he was laying bare the truth of everything you tried to keep hidden.  The catling had always felt exposed in the other boy’s presence, scraped raw in a way that’s hard to articulate—he always felt scoured out by his friend’s gaze in a manner that was both painful, yet cathartic.  Tom-Cat always remembered something that Chester said to him after a particularly bad day early into his training, when the other boy had advised that Tom-Cat construct a couple of alternate personas for himself, replete with their own histories, quirks, likes, and dislikes.  Chester had always said that it was imperative to maintain a distinct line of separation between themselves and their clients, in order to retain some level of control over their lives and persons.  He’d been adamant about it, his soothing, musical voice always infused with a depth of vibrance and intensity that it usually lacked.   He recalled the night his friend had imparted that piece of advice.

Hey, shhh, it’s just me,” Chester had said one night, crawling into bed behind him when the other boy had seen the dried tears on Tom-Cat’s cheeks.  “Relax, let me take care of you,” he murmured.  Tom-Cat had stiffened when Chester slid his arms around his waist and pulled him back against him, but quickly went loose and pliant back when he realized that his friend – who usually could not suffer the touch of others outside of “work” – was simply comforting him.  “Uptseh, listen to me,” Chester began, and Tom-Cat had felt himself blushing.  Chester had been exceedingly formal with everyone in the brothel—clients and other workers, alike—except for Tom-Cat.  Chester had always called him, ‘uptseh’, meaning sweetheart’, or ‘naykapus’, meaning ‘my cat’. Don’t let them have any piece of your truth.  People like that don’t deserve any part of you—the real you.”

Chester had brushed his lips across the back of the catling’s neck, making him shiver.  “Only give your truth to those who you truly care about, and those who you trust with your heart.”  Then his friend leaned in and whispered something into Tom-Cat’s ear that he hadn’t shared with anyone else; their real name. 

Tom-Cat had taken Chester’s advice and the secret of his true name, to heart.  

He’d gotten so used to keeping others at arm’s length and never revealing anything true about his history and personal life, that it shouldn’t have surprised him at how easily he slipped on the facade of the Little Whore when he prostituted himself Corrine.  

But it did.

Because he never thought he’d find himself in this position again…the position where it came down to the choice of either selling his body for survival or letting himself die.

And Tom-Cat was a survivor. 

It didn’t take much to seduce Corrine.  She hadn’t been very subtle in her regard for him, after all.  It had just taken until tonight, Night 3, for Tom-Cat to fully realize the direness of his circumstances.  It'd taken until tonight for him to realize there was no way he could survive another night given the bare sustenance and health care that Holden provided him…

…unless he worked out some sort of side deal with someone, to get the things he needed in order to facilitate his survival.  And given his position, he didn’t have anything to offer…except for one thing.

It didn’t make it any easier. 

Even now, even as Tom-Cat pressed Corrine back against the mattress and woodenly reflected back the desire that twisted her pretty face, it took everything within him to keep going.  He closed his eyes against the want that blew out her pupils and flushed her skin.  He leaned down and husked random nonsense into her ear to try and drown out her throaty moans as she chanted, Leona, gods yes…! over and over into the sweltering air beyond the placard of his shoulders.  (It made it slightly easier knowing that she didn’t have his real name—he didn’t think he’d be able to do it at all if she’d been moaning saying, Tom-Cat the whole time.)  

Tom-Cat told himself to remember what he’d been taught.  He forced himself to detach from the moment, and it helped to recall what Chester had always said: "You’re a mercenary, upsteh.  Never forget that."

It was simply a transaction. 

Nothing more; nothing less. 

But he hadn’t had a bondmate back then.  Back then, he hadn’t felt like he’d betrayed anyone but himself.  Tom-Cat sucked in a pained breath and bit down an angry growl when Corrine suddenly dug her nails into his back and locked up under him, gouging bloody trenches beneath his shoulders next to the distinct scar that’d been left by the Watcher of Kiana’s massive starmetal blade. 

Just another set of battle scars.  

He’s a mercenary.

That’s all.

And he would do this to survive.

He would do this so that she would never have to.

 

╺ ✽ ╸ 

 

Nobody saw him empty his stomach as soon as Corrine left.  Nobody saw the claw marks he left in his own flesh as he wedged himself into a corner of the cell and wrapped his arms around himself, wishing he could scour his skin with a metal brush everywhere Corrine had touched him.

Nobody saw the despair that dulled his eyes when he finally opened himself back up to the bond and didn’t feel any worry or concern trickling through.

"...Teleskela…wherrre arrre you?"

 

TOM-CAT: [KIANA BEACH:First Stab - POUNCE (★1/2) - WATCHER BATTLE (3/★4/5/6/★7)] [GOBLIN SLAYING: (1)-(☆1/2)] – [ICE CAVES: CLIFFHANGER (★1/2) - POWDER KEG (★1/2/3) - HYPOTHERMIA (4/5/6) - BONDED (7/8/9/)] [SUNSTEALER:(1/2/3/4)-(1/2)] –Miiya & Cat-Tom [SPARRING: (1/2/★3)] - ☆The Great Tipsu Hunt! - ☆Stolen Kiss Overwhelmed by Intimacy Returning to Her Bath Time Bonding Wings, Tails, & Love Cave Storms Climbing the Walls [1st KISS: Chase-(★2/3/4)] Cat-Tom: Rescue Kitty! Cat-Tom vs. Skaven (Forced) Shift Back 9 Lives A Beast in the Darkness Reuniting w/Teleskela Bored Nihilism Cat vs. Dragon Emotionally Exhausted Bath Catboy, Interrupted All For Her Bellissimo Gato [BATH-HOUSE: Confessions(1/2/3/4)] Catboys Can Purr Bagels, Love Poems & Catnapping Love Poem [FIGHT PIT: CHAMPION SUITE (★1.No, no, no.../2a-2b/3.Prostitution/★4.Tipsu/5/6a-6b/★7a-7b.Holden's/Proposition) - GRAND ARENA (Leona/F#1/★F#4/★Cat-Tom vs.Werewolf: 1/2/3) - LOST (1/★2) - FOUND (3/4a-4b/5/★6.Swansong Kiss) - RESCUE (★1.Teleskela, MF'er/2/3.Reawakened Bond) - ESCAPE (4/5/6/7)]
───────────
DAETH: Breaking Callon - Pleasure w/Pain - Teasing Amarice - [DAYTRIP: LAVISH HAND (1/2/3a-3b/4.Sensing Death] - Kissing Fate(1a-1b) - Precariously Balanced Nature - At Long Last, Eddellyn - Soul Searching - Into the Maze - ★The Minotaur & The Labyrinth - Heart of the Maze - Before the Storm - Thunder & Honey - ★Ripped Gowns - ★Sensual Poetry - Warding Sigils - Hedonistic Filth & House-Sized Party Crasher - Confronting Maarazaar(1/2/3) - Ash Bunny Irihi - Cormeum MIA (stolen heart) - A Vow & Shadowy Msg
───────────
RISQUÉ: Fun with Fisticuffs!
[CHATTE]Enter Chatte - Chat w/Castor -Proposing the Race
[ASMODIEL & GALVINA] ★A Celestial & Demoness Play Cards - Asmodiel Smites a Feeder - An Angel & Aeros Walk Into a Bar... - Undaunted Spirit - Benediction
──────────────────
[☆ = favorite / ★= extra fave]


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Lassroyale
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Patron Saint of Hawtbois, Catboys, & BAMF Babes Noble
Joined: 1 year ago
Posts: 862
Journey starter  

TOM CAT

A Felonious Feline 

╺ ✽ ╸ 

“A cat's rage is beautiful, burning with pure cat flame, all its hair standing up and crackling blue sparks, eyes blazing and sputtering.”

 ― William S. Burroughs


DAY 4

"My Violent Heart"

 

Tom-Cat awoke and abruptly rolled out from under the cot where he’d been sleeping, when the latches of the heavy door to his containment area began to slide open with the grind of metal gears and the clank of tumblers moving out of alignment.  He had just enough time before the door swung open to hook his foot around the excess chain hooked to his collar and trailed down to a metal fulcrum on the floor, creating the illusion that its length was shorter than it really was.  He stood next to the bed and waited, his lambent yellow eyes narrowed as he watched Holden, Larkin, Max (the bruiser/heavy), along with two enforcers file in, one of whom the catling recognized. 

It was the clipper with the Skyldling Smile.

The one who'd threatened Miiya.

But it was what he saw jutting out of the clippers stupid fedora, that made Tom-Cat’s blood burn with rage: his Teleskela’s tipsu.  Honestly, he’d forgotten all about it until right now when he suddenly remembered that he’d kept Miiya’s tipsu with him, carrying it close to his heart in a hidden pocket on the underside of his weapon’s harness.  Seeing it so jauntily worn by that ugly bir kurve made the catling’s tail drop low and begin to lash back and forth, anger simmering in his veins.  He felt his fangs sharpen until they pressed into the full swell of his bottom lip, his pupils thinning into hateful slits as he focused his attention on the man with his Teleskela’s tipsu.

Give it back, rrright now!” he growled, the words snapping out like the crack of a whip.  Holden paused on the other side of the holding cell bars, a perplexed look crossing their face.  

What?” they asked, but Tom-Cat cut them off with an animalistic snarl that seethed through the air.  His hands curled into fists, his claws gouging into his palms until blood dripped from his fingertips.

Not you, him,” he hissed, his ears pushed back as he leaned forward aggressively.  He pointed to the fedora-wearing kopil.  Give back my Teleskela’s tipsu, now,” he demanded.  He just managed to bite back the deep, thrumming growl that wound in his chest and clawed up his throat, the sound somewhat muted behind the tight clench of fangs and teeth.   His intense, unblinking stare never wavered from the target of his ire. 

Holden looked between the catling and the enforcer, their mouth slowly widening into an amused grin.  “I see,” they said, moving closer to the caged felinoid.  “Speck, why didn’t you tell me you took that pretty feather from our guest?”  Holden tsk’d at the enforcer and shook their head at him, red-gloved hands automatically reaching into their fur coat for the silver cigarette case.  They extracted a cigarette and lit it, blowing a puff of smoke towards the catling before continuing.  “That’s just bad manners, Speck,” Holden chided, their grey eyes bright with vicious humor as they glanced towards the enforcer.  They returned their gaze to Tom-Cat, their eyes flicking over the catling’s body in a brief once-over before meeting his kohl-rimmed gaze.  

“Though I’m sorry to say Leona,” Holden stressed the nom de guerre that Tom-Cat had given them with a slight sneer.  “But we at The Oubliette usually abide by the rule of ‘finder’s keepers’.”  They took a long drag off the cigarette and blew a smoke ring into the air.  “Still, I’m not only an utterly charming bir kurve,” Holden said with a shameless smile, “but I’m a fair bir kurve, too.”  They waved Max forward and gestured towards the sliding door of the cell, indicating that the bruiser should open it.  “So I’ll give you a chance to win back your…tipsu, was it?”  Holden glanced at Larkin who nodded to them in affirmation.  “Yes, if you can wrest back your tipsu from dear ol’ Speck, you can keep it.  Fair and square.”

Max lumbered forward and unlocked the cell, sliding aside the heavy door like it was made out of hollow wood and not thick iron bars.  The huge man stood to one side of the now-open portal and looked nervously at Holden.  The cat-man had torn out the throats of two other enforcers since he’d been here, as well as blinded one of his fellow bruisers.  Max trusted the feline champion about as far as he could throw him—maybe not even that much, because the massive bruiser could probably throw the cat-man pretty far.  He licked his lips and shuffled in place.

Holden moved forward and laughed coldly, patting Max condescendingly on one beefy arm.  “Oh my dear Max,” they commented blithely, before suddenly digging their red-gloved fingers hard into the meat of Max’s arm.  The bruiser winced a little; the points of Holden’s smile sharpened cruelly.  “Try not to look so jookan nervous—we have a reputation to uphold at The Oubliette, isn’t that right?”

Max bobbed his head and swallowed.  “Y-yeah, right boss.  Whuddeva yew says.”  The bruiser straightened his round-shouldered hunch and nodded again.  

Holden gave the large man a patronizing pat on the cheek.  “There’s a boy,” they praised flatly.  They inclined their head towards Speck, then motioned the enforcer into the cell, pointing with their cigarette.  “Well, get on with it, Speck.  I don’t have all morning.”

Speck smiled meanly, and the scars on his face made his grin seem more gruesome than it really was.  The enforcer pulled out a butterfly knife from their pocket and performed some sort of fancy, completely ostentatious maneuver to reveal the blade as they stalked forward.  Tom-Cat inwardly rolled his eyes.  ‘Fairrr my upuch,he thought, pulling his lips back into a severe snarl as the clipper drew closer.  He didn’t even bother to ask whether or not he’d be allowed a knife as well—Holden didn’t even trust him with weapons inside the fight pit, let alone outside of it. 

Regardless, it didn’t take long for the catling to size up his opponent.  Speck was cocky and he could tell that the other man had pretty much figured the outcome of the “fight” was a forgone conclusion.  And Tom-Cat was perfectly fine with letting the ugly kurve believe it.  

The catling dropped low as the enforcer abruptly feinted forward and brandished the knife in a broad arc, immediately realizing that the intent of the action was to establish the limit of his range.  Tom-Cat gave Speck what he wanted as he surged forward and pretended to be stopped short by the chain, snapping backwards as he reached the “end” of the length, using his backwards lean to dodge a slash that would have disemboweled him.  He made a show of reeling back and sinking into a furious tail-lashing crouch, hissing at his adversary.  

It had the intended effect.  Speck's grin deepened, his teeth flashing in the yellow light and satisfaction glinting in his black eyes.  He taunted the catling, fully confident of his victory over his collared and chained opponent.  “Oi, wut’s th’matter, moggie?” He took a couple steps closer, believing himself to be outside of Tom-Cat’s kill box.  “If yew want this ‘ere pretty feather, yew’re gonna hafta grab it.”  Speck chortled, dancing back, then forward, still believing they were safely out of his opponent’s reach; he obviously felt safe to continue mocking the catling.  “Yew know iffin’ this one feather be so pretty, mebbe I should go collect sum more from that bird gel ‘ave y—HURK!

Speck’s taunt was unceremoniously cut off as Tom-Cat lunged forward and sunk his claws deep into the enforcer’s throat.  He caught Speck’s hand as the man tried to bury their blade in his guts, viciously wrenching their wrist back until a sickening CRACK! rang out.  Speck’s agonized scream was reduced to a burbling gurgle.  Blood flecked the enforcer’s lips as the knife fell from spasming fingers and clattered to the stone floor.  Tom-Cat leaned forward and met Speck’s frantic, rapidly clouding eyes as he spoke the last words the man would ever hear. 

That’s the last time you’ll everrr  thrrreaten my Teleskela,” he hissed.  

And then Tom-Cat ripped out Speck’s throat, watching dispassionately as the enforcer fell to the ground, convulsing as they gasped out their last, wet breath.  He bent and cleaned his hands on Speck’s shirt before collecting Miiya’s tipsu from the corpse. 

He looked up when Max came forward, but Holden stopped the bruiser from attacking.  “Don’t, Max…just…” Holden sighed, shaking their head in disappointment at the dead body of yet another enforcer.  They flicked the butt of their cigarette at Speck’s corpse in disgust.  “Just collect the body and lock up the cell.  Our guest will be punished later—if they survive tonight’s fight, that is.”  Holden moved up to the bars as Max came into the cell and heaved Speck’s body over his shoulder, before bending and collecting the discarded butterfly knife, which he handed off to Larkin, who took the knife with a displeased frown.

Holden lit another cigarette and addressed Tom-Cat.  “Rest up, Leona,” they said, their lips curling ever-so-slightly into a knowing grin.  “You’ve got a hell of a fight tonight, trust me.”  They blew a puff of smoke towards the catling.  “But I meant what I said—if you survive tonight, you will be punished for killing another one of my enforcers.”  They shrugged, the luxurious fur coat shifting about their shoulders.  “And that’s a big, 'if'.”  Holden chuckled unkindly.  He stepped away from the bars and gestured to Max to offload Speck’s body and close up the cell.

Anyway, I’ll have Corrine bring you some food and my team will be around later this afternoon to get you ready for tonight’s match.”  Holden peered at him, tilting their head as if considering something.  “It’s an auspicious fight, they mused, tapping their lips with a gloved finger.  “No champion has made it past Fight #4.  Perhaps you’ll be the exception, eh Leona?  Holden winked.  “Let’s hope that feather—I’m sorry, tipsu—of yours brings you some good luck, eh?”

With that, everyone departed, leaving Tom-Cat alone.  He sat at the edge of the cot and ran the edge of his thumb over the edge of Miiya’s tipsu.  He closed his eyes and held the feather against his chest, pretending that he was holding her, instead.   For the first time since his capture, Tom-Cat felt warmth percolate through the bond and a small tug from wherever Miiya currently was. 

He smiled, though its edges were touched with strain.  

“I hope you’rrre okay, Teleskela,” he whispered.  “Please be okay.”

 


[OOC: Tom-Cat eventually to be led to The Oubliette - The Grand Arena for Fight#4  (After some transactional time w/Corrine & getting manhandled by Holden's stylists.)

TOM-CAT: [KIANA BEACH:First Stab - POUNCE (★1/2) - WATCHER BATTLE (3/★4/5/6/★7)] [GOBLIN SLAYING: (1)-(☆1/2)] – [ICE CAVES: CLIFFHANGER (★1/2) - POWDER KEG (★1/2/3) - HYPOTHERMIA (4/5/6) - BONDED (7/8/9/)] [SUNSTEALER:(1/2/3/4)-(1/2)] –Miiya & Cat-Tom [SPARRING: (1/2/★3)] - ☆The Great Tipsu Hunt! - ☆Stolen Kiss Overwhelmed by Intimacy Returning to Her Bath Time Bonding Wings, Tails, & Love Cave Storms Climbing the Walls [1st KISS: Chase-(★2/3/4)] Cat-Tom: Rescue Kitty! Cat-Tom vs. Skaven (Forced) Shift Back 9 Lives A Beast in the Darkness Reuniting w/Teleskela Bored Nihilism Cat vs. Dragon Emotionally Exhausted Bath Catboy, Interrupted All For Her Bellissimo Gato [BATH-HOUSE: Confessions(1/2/3/4)] Catboys Can Purr Bagels, Love Poems & Catnapping Love Poem [FIGHT PIT: CHAMPION SUITE (★1.No, no, no.../2a-2b/3.Prostitution/★4.Tipsu/5/6a-6b/★7a-7b.Holden's/Proposition) - GRAND ARENA (Leona/F#1/★F#4/★Cat-Tom vs.Werewolf: 1/2/3) - LOST (1/★2) - FOUND (3/4a-4b/5/★6.Swansong Kiss) - RESCUE (★1.Teleskela, MF'er/2/3.Reawakened Bond) - ESCAPE (4/5/6/7)]
───────────
DAETH: Breaking Callon - Pleasure w/Pain - Teasing Amarice - [DAYTRIP: LAVISH HAND (1/2/3a-3b/4.Sensing Death] - Kissing Fate(1a-1b) - Precariously Balanced Nature - At Long Last, Eddellyn - Soul Searching - Into the Maze - ★The Minotaur & The Labyrinth - Heart of the Maze - Before the Storm - Thunder & Honey - ★Ripped Gowns - ★Sensual Poetry - Warding Sigils - Hedonistic Filth & House-Sized Party Crasher - Confronting Maarazaar(1/2/3) - Ash Bunny Irihi - Cormeum MIA (stolen heart) - A Vow & Shadowy Msg
───────────
RISQUÉ: Fun with Fisticuffs!
[CHATTE]Enter Chatte - Chat w/Castor -Proposing the Race
[ASMODIEL & GALVINA] ★A Celestial & Demoness Play Cards - Asmodiel Smites a Feeder - An Angel & Aeros Walk Into a Bar... - Undaunted Spirit - Benediction
──────────────────
[☆ = favorite / ★= extra fave]


Wynterleaf and Irihi liked
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Lassroyale
(@lassroyale)
Patron Saint of Hawtbois, Catboys, & BAMF Babes Noble
Joined: 1 year ago
Posts: 862
Journey starter  

TOM CAT

A Felonious Feline 

╺ ✽ ╸ 

“Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars.”

Kahlil Gibran


DAY 5

 

 

The landscape glitters in a monochromatic kaleidoscope, shifting and turning in varying degrees of white.  Everything is blanketed in a dense layer of freshly fallen snow stretching endlessly in every direction like white paint spilled across a blank canvas.  It washes out vibrancy and mutes color.  It makes the world seem curiously empty, as if the absence of color also meant the absence of life.  

 

 

(“He could’ve lost the eye—he was incredibly lucky.”)

 

 

The dull blankness is beautiful in a stark way (impersonal, cold)  and Tom-Cat doesn’t like it at all; it's a beauty which is also harsh and cutting.  As if in response to his silent thoughts, a prickling feeling suddenly sweeps across the back of his neck, causing the fur on his tail to stand up. The unexpected fissure of sensation makes him shiver and his ears flatten; it has little to do with the chilly air.  The wind carries a whisper to his furry, oversized ears. 

 

 

(“There's no permanent damage—his eye should be good as new.”)

 

 

Tom-Cat snaps around, looks right; he’s positive he heard a voice from that direction.  There's nothing there except for the looming, half-buried trunks of pine trees. The forest seems to press up and press in on him from every side as he turns back and hurries on.  All around him,  leaf-stripped branches reach up and scratch at the cold air, while simultaneously sagging beneath the weight of wet snow.  The barren trees keep silent vigil over the stillness, and Tom-Cat imagines he can feel their absent gazes following him (full of disapproval, just like Father’s) as he passes beneath their shadows.   Every now and then the trees break their silence with quiet groans as the wind whispers past and inflames their joints.  Their branches twitch and sway like the palsied creaks of old men bent double beneath white-blanketed heaviness, their bodies twisted, cold, and weary.  Their sharp and crooked arthritic fingers are useless to do anything but claw feebly at the sky. 

 

 

(“He will have a prominent scar, but that’s a small price to pay for not losing the eye.”)

 

 

The sun is distant and oblique overhead, its bare warmth waning as the late afternoon begins to sag into twilight.  Aside from the trees, the world around him is weirdly muted, like everything (creatures, critters, and all manner of things spooky and irrational in his imagination) were speaking just out of frame in stage whispers.  Whispering things that don’t make sense and that he doesn’t really understand.  

 

 

(“Keh. That better not bring down his value, because his face is—was—the real moneymaker.”)

 

.

Every noise seems dialed down except for the noisy crunch of the snow beneath their boots (his, Father’s); even the low sizzle of Father’s kretek as he steadily smokes sounds incongruently loud in his ears when set against the muted hush of their surroundings.  Tom-Cat squints against the encroaching shadows and follows the sound of Father’s footfalls (ker-runch, ker-runch, ker-runch), and Father’s footprints dwarf his own as he steps into them and tries (and fails) to keep up; to catch up.  Father is ahead of him (always ahead) long strides steady and sure.  In contrast, his steps are short and clumsy; he’s fallen three times, just trying to keep pace.  

 

 

Father hasn't once looked back.

 

 

Twilight has slipped in unnoticed by the time Father stops, his movement sudden and deliberate.  Tom-Cat nearly runs into his back, but thankfully pulls up short and stumbles only a little.  Father is silent and still, the implacable, iron wall of his back all that Tom-Cat is aware of, until he suddenly turns and stares down at the catboy.  The strong angles of Father’s face are etched with the usual expression of distant disinterest, undercut by a cold, clinical detachment.  It’s an expression that hurts him every time, even though he expects it.  The polite disinterest in Father’s eyes is far sharper and cuts deeper than any blade ever has, leaving him with the kind of wound that doesn’t heal but grows. 

 

 

Every single time.  

 

 

(“Well, if his face doesn’t sell anymore, it won’t be a total loss.”)

 

 

And yet, for all that Father’s emotional distance hurts him, Tom-Cat is still desperate for his approval.  A large part of him wants no, needs  Father’s time and attention, living for those uncommon moments when Father will look at him with a spark of honest care softening his steely gaze, or pays him a word or two of sincere praise, when real pride and satisfaction for something he’s done warms Father’s typically impersonal tone.  The moments that Tom-Cat truly craves, lives for, above all others, are the fleeting moments when Father treats him with genuine affection; those precious, too-rare, and increasingly isolated times when Father allows Tom-Cat to curl up and sit quietly with him while he reads, as one hand absently strokes over the catboy’s hair.

 

 

(“'After all, I've had plenty of offers from people who'd just love to rent his body.”)

 

 

Tom-Cat’s feet are starting to go numb the longer they stand, unmoving, in the snow.  Father continues to stare impassively down at him and Tom-Cat tries not to cough as smoke from the clove cigarette tickles his sensitive nose with the cloying smell of its distinctive, sweet and spicy, vanilla-tinged aroma.  His oversized ears twitch and the tip of his tail restlessly flickers, when Father reaches out and cups his jaw with a cold hand.  He gently tugs Tom-Cat’s face closer to his, turning it first right, then left, before unexpectedly releasing him and tenderly stroking a thumb across the sweep of his cheek.   Father leans forward and murmurs something, but it’s not Father’s voice that slips out into the cold, wintry air.  

 

 

“So, so pretty—too pretty.  You're a real heartbreaker, kid."

 

 

Fear erupts in his veins, but before he can jerk back, Father’s hand whips out like an adder strike, gripping his face and holding it still…

 

 

…then calmly grinds his still-burning cigarette directly into the center of Tom-Cat’s left eye.

 

 

╺ ✽ ╸ 

 

 

Tom-Cat wakes up screaming, adrenaline and panic spiking through him as he tumbles off the cot and scrambles into the farthest corner that the chain attached to his collar will let him reach. He still sees that glittering, monochromatic landscape in his mind’s eye as he wedges himself into the darkest corner of the cell, though any traces of sleep have been chased from his body by the residual feeling of deeply remembered fear.  It takes a full minute for the lingering vestiges of his dream nightmare to fully fade, and once they do, Tom-Cat almost wishes they hadn’t.  Because now that he’s in full control (more or less) of his facilities, the catling becomes aware of two things that are impossible to ignore:

 

 

1.) There’s a kind of general ache, making the left side of his face throb dully, except for a sharp stab of more intense, needle-like pain that scores a (weirdly) mostly straight path from the middle of his eyebrow down to the very top of his cheekbone.

 

2.) His left eye and a good deal of (the left side) his face is wrapped tightly with gauze and bandages.

 

 

The air unexpectedly rushes out of him and Tom-Cat slides down into a sitting position before he’s knocked to the floor by the wave of dizziness that suddenly overtakes him.  He draws his knees up to his chest and wraps his arms and tail around the front of his legs, as he forces himself to draw in slow and steady breaches.  

 

 

Brrreathe.  It’s okay….if the eye was gone, I’d know.

 

Kwesh…what if I’m parrrtly-blind?

 

 

As Tom-Cat works to get his breathing back under control, he raises a hand to the bandages wrapped over the left half of his face.  He tentatively probes the area around his eye, pressing into the thick layers of gauze covering it, trying to ascertain if his eye is still there.  The catling grits his teeth and pushes his fingers hard against the padding and is rewarded when he feels his left eye reflexively twitch and move beneath his eyelid, sending a brilliant bolt of pain jagging through his orbital socket.

 

 

Tom-Cat has never been more happy to feel that kind of pain—or any sort of pain—than he is right then.  Because pain this acute means he probably hasn’t suffered too much, or any, nerve damage.  He can’t help the slightly hysterical laughter that bubbles up his throat in response to the sheer morbidness of the thought.

 

 

Once he starts, he can’t stop.  

 

 

From the other side of the holding cell door, it’s impossible to tell if the sound is hysterical laughter or hysterical sobs.

TOM-CAT: [KIANA BEACH:First Stab - POUNCE (★1/2) - WATCHER BATTLE (3/★4/5/6/★7)] [GOBLIN SLAYING: (1)-(☆1/2)] – [ICE CAVES: CLIFFHANGER (★1/2) - POWDER KEG (★1/2/3) - HYPOTHERMIA (4/5/6) - BONDED (7/8/9/)] [SUNSTEALER:(1/2/3/4)-(1/2)] –Miiya & Cat-Tom [SPARRING: (1/2/★3)] - ☆The Great Tipsu Hunt! - ☆Stolen Kiss Overwhelmed by Intimacy Returning to Her Bath Time Bonding Wings, Tails, & Love Cave Storms Climbing the Walls [1st KISS: Chase-(★2/3/4)] Cat-Tom: Rescue Kitty! Cat-Tom vs. Skaven (Forced) Shift Back 9 Lives A Beast in the Darkness Reuniting w/Teleskela Bored Nihilism Cat vs. Dragon Emotionally Exhausted Bath Catboy, Interrupted All For Her Bellissimo Gato [BATH-HOUSE: Confessions(1/2/3/4)] Catboys Can Purr Bagels, Love Poems & Catnapping Love Poem [FIGHT PIT: CHAMPION SUITE (★1.No, no, no.../2a-2b/3.Prostitution/★4.Tipsu/5/6a-6b/★7a-7b.Holden's/Proposition) - GRAND ARENA (Leona/F#1/★F#4/★Cat-Tom vs.Werewolf: 1/2/3) - LOST (1/★2) - FOUND (3/4a-4b/5/★6.Swansong Kiss) - RESCUE (★1.Teleskela, MF'er/2/3.Reawakened Bond) - ESCAPE (4/5/6/7)]
───────────
DAETH: Breaking Callon - Pleasure w/Pain - Teasing Amarice - [DAYTRIP: LAVISH HAND (1/2/3a-3b/4.Sensing Death] - Kissing Fate(1a-1b) - Precariously Balanced Nature - At Long Last, Eddellyn - Soul Searching - Into the Maze - ★The Minotaur & The Labyrinth - Heart of the Maze - Before the Storm - Thunder & Honey - ★Ripped Gowns - ★Sensual Poetry - Warding Sigils - Hedonistic Filth & House-Sized Party Crasher - Confronting Maarazaar(1/2/3) - Ash Bunny Irihi - Cormeum MIA (stolen heart) - A Vow & Shadowy Msg
───────────
RISQUÉ: Fun with Fisticuffs!
[CHATTE]Enter Chatte - Chat w/Castor -Proposing the Race
[ASMODIEL & GALVINA] ★A Celestial & Demoness Play Cards - Asmodiel Smites a Feeder - An Angel & Aeros Walk Into a Bar... - Undaunted Spirit - Benediction
──────────────────
[☆ = favorite / ★= extra fave]


Irihi liked
ReplyQuote
Lassroyale
(@lassroyale)
Patron Saint of Hawtbois, Catboys, & BAMF Babes Noble
Joined: 1 year ago
Posts: 862
Journey starter  

TOM CAT

A Felonious Feline 

╺ ✽ ╸ 

LPC's:

Spoiler
Holden De'Ville

Holden DeVille (PIT BOSS) 15

“Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars.”

Kahlil Gibran


DAY 5

 

It’s been mentioned that Tom-Cat has lived a lot of life compressed into half that time, and something like that didn’t happen by accident.  It was something that only happened to those who have been remade—a long, remorseless process of traumatism, of taking, breaking, and remaking.  

Nine years.   

That’s how long Tom-Cat underwent the recursive framework of the remade process that saw him sundered, razed, retooled, and remade in a seemingly endless cycle.  It was nine years of his life, of his history, that’s written in a calligraphy of exquisite trauma; the smeared ink memories of casual violence and the thoughtful infliction of pain.  Nine years that followed a detailed blueprint that hammered his shape into the unyielding mold of its brutal, pre-planned narrative.  It was a sick and twisted narrative that he could no more deny than he could erase the scars it left scribed across the tome of his body. 

That narrative was him. 

And the scars that narrative left were stark, ugly, and real. 

Real in the way that broken bones, bruises, and lacerations were real.  Real in the way that his skin sometimes recalled the ache of angry handprints gouged into his hips after a rough night with a client.  They were all rough nights.   Real in the almost visceral, remembered taste of metal and leather between his teeth and blood at the back of his throat as the monster with the penetrating stare, unyielding grip, and proclivity for offhand violence, slammed his head down against the edge of the bathtub and casually told him to “Jookan shut up!” in their too-soft, sticky-sweet, and awful voice. 

(Sometimes the memories were a little too real.)  

That kind of trauma stayed with you, even if the memories faded with time.  

And yet there were just some things you never forget.  Memories that were triggered by taste, touch, sound, smell.  Tom-Cat’s body was a minefield of triggers and trauma buried in his skin, muscles, and bones; each one a landmine of viscerally recalled hurt, ready to explode at the slightest pressure.  

The texture of the leather strap clenched between his teeth and the earthy taste of its smooth grain rasped against the groove of his tongue, was one of those things—it’s a feeling the catling would always remember and can’t won’t ever forget, even if he tried. While the taste and feel of leather brought back a flood of vivid memories, it was the spreader bar that was fastened at each end to his ankles and kept his legs spread out that caused him such severe panic that Holden threatened to sedate him as he nearly dislocated his own shoulder in a mindless, animalistic frenzy to break free of his restraints. 

It took some effort, but Tom-Cat slowly managed to quell the surge of violent and desperate panic that was coiled in his muscles and made his stomach sour with the taste of bile in the back of his throat.  His shoulders heaved as the panic gradually dissipated along with the adrenaline flooding through his veins.  His tail unwound from around his leg and slowly whipped back and forth in agitation as he once again became present, and he recalled his current circumstance—and subsequently why he’s grinding his teeth into a leather strap, and why there was a spreader bar fastened to his ankles, in the first place. 

Tom-Cat’s calves ached.  He was strapped down to the workbench in the middle of the cell with his wrists shackled to each corner and his arms spread, forcing him to stand with his torso bent over the scarred surface as the edge drove into his hips and stomach. The reason? Just as Holden had promised, Tom-Cat was being punished for not only killing Speck yesterday, but also another enforcer that morning.  As for the leather strap between his teeth and the spreader bar that held his legs apart… 

…the former was an impromptu bite stick.  

And the latter?  Well that was just a bit of mindjookery, according to Holden.  The goddamned bir kurve. 

Have you finally settled down, sweetheart? 

The catling’s grey-furred ears remained pinned back against his skull as Holden’s voice washed over him.  Tom-Cat was only able to orient himself enough to twist his neck slightly and glare at the man as Holden moved further into his field of vision.  He couldn’t help the automatic shudder that rippled through his skin when Holden placed a gloved hand above the base of his tail and trailed it up the line of his spine, coming to rest between his shoulder blades.  The hand slid up, gloved fingers brushing his neck before moving to curve around the back of his skull.  The fingers suddenly tightened, gripping the catling’s dark hair in a tight, uncompromising grip.  Holden forced Tom-Cat’s head up and brought their face close, their steel-grey eyes meeting his yellow-gold irises. 

Don’t worry, darling,” Holden murmured, the corners of their mouth rising into a terrible grin, promises pressed into the seam of their lips.  “I would never use that as a means of punishment,” they assured, keeping their voice low.  “I’m not a brute.”  Holden chuckled darkly.  “No, there will be plenty of time for you and I to have some fun—later.”  

They straightened and released the catling’s hair.  Tom-Cat tilted his face up when Holden moved to stand before the workbench.  He narrowed his eyes, unable to suppress his automatic warning hiss when Holden unbuckled their belt and removed it, sliding the leather strap through their pant loops with deliberate slowness.  They wound the buckled end around their fist a couple of times and let the rest of the remaining length dangle by their side.  

I’m a man of my word, Leona,” Holden loudly announced, for the benefit of the other people that were gathered in the cell to witness the demonstration, including Corrine, Larkin, Max, and several other enforcers and heavies.  “Besides, you’ve left me no choice—especially after taking out another one of my enforcers this morning.”  They made a sharp ‘tsk’ with their tongue.  “And after I personally ensured that you wouldn’t lose your eye.  You’re lucky that a scar will be your only take-away from that fight.”  Holden canted their head, running a speculative gaze over the left, now bandage-free, side of Tom-Cat’s face.  “Just so you know, that kind of medical care isn’t cheap.”  They suddenly grinned.  “I’ll just add it to your debt—you can repay me by continuing to win your fights in the pit.”  Holden’s grin widened, their straight white teeth gleaming in the cell’s diffuse light.  “Or perhaps you can work it off  in another way.  Maybe we’ll negotiate later, mm Leona?”  They winked. 

Holden didn’t say anything further and disappeared from Tom-Cat’s sight as they walked around and stood behind the catling once more.  He shivered when he felt Holden’s bare palm, free of the glove, stroke down his side.  He released an angry hiss… 

…that warped into a startled grunt when Holden struck him with the belt, laying a perfect, red stripe across his shoulders.  They crossed the first mark with another, and the sound of the leather strap striking the catling’s smooth back echoed through the cell. Holden was careful not to flay the flesh as they laid out a precise, criss-crossing pattern of one inch lash marks over the tan plane of Tom-Cat’s back.

Tom-Cat didn't cry out, though couldn't stop the pain from jolting through the bond sudden, sharp, and cutting.

TOM-CAT: [KIANA BEACH:First Stab - POUNCE (★1/2) - WATCHER BATTLE (3/★4/5/6/★7)] [GOBLIN SLAYING: (1)-(☆1/2)] – [ICE CAVES: CLIFFHANGER (★1/2) - POWDER KEG (★1/2/3) - HYPOTHERMIA (4/5/6) - BONDED (7/8/9/)] [SUNSTEALER:(1/2/3/4)-(1/2)] –Miiya & Cat-Tom [SPARRING: (1/2/★3)] - ☆The Great Tipsu Hunt! - ☆Stolen Kiss Overwhelmed by Intimacy Returning to Her Bath Time Bonding Wings, Tails, & Love Cave Storms Climbing the Walls [1st KISS: Chase-(★2/3/4)] Cat-Tom: Rescue Kitty! Cat-Tom vs. Skaven (Forced) Shift Back 9 Lives A Beast in the Darkness Reuniting w/Teleskela Bored Nihilism Cat vs. Dragon Emotionally Exhausted Bath Catboy, Interrupted All For Her Bellissimo Gato [BATH-HOUSE: Confessions(1/2/3/4)] Catboys Can Purr Bagels, Love Poems & Catnapping Love Poem [FIGHT PIT: CHAMPION SUITE (★1.No, no, no.../2a-2b/3.Prostitution/★4.Tipsu/5/6a-6b/★7a-7b.Holden's/Proposition) - GRAND ARENA (Leona/F#1/★F#4/★Cat-Tom vs.Werewolf: 1/2/3) - LOST (1/★2) - FOUND (3/4a-4b/5/★6.Swansong Kiss) - RESCUE (★1.Teleskela, MF'er/2/3.Reawakened Bond) - ESCAPE (4/5/6/7)]
───────────
DAETH: Breaking Callon - Pleasure w/Pain - Teasing Amarice - [DAYTRIP: LAVISH HAND (1/2/3a-3b/4.Sensing Death] - Kissing Fate(1a-1b) - Precariously Balanced Nature - At Long Last, Eddellyn - Soul Searching - Into the Maze - ★The Minotaur & The Labyrinth - Heart of the Maze - Before the Storm - Thunder & Honey - ★Ripped Gowns - ★Sensual Poetry - Warding Sigils - Hedonistic Filth & House-Sized Party Crasher - Confronting Maarazaar(1/2/3) - Ash Bunny Irihi - Cormeum MIA (stolen heart) - A Vow & Shadowy Msg
───────────
RISQUÉ: Fun with Fisticuffs!
[CHATTE]Enter Chatte - Chat w/Castor -Proposing the Race
[ASMODIEL & GALVINA] ★A Celestial & Demoness Play Cards - Asmodiel Smites a Feeder - An Angel & Aeros Walk Into a Bar... - Undaunted Spirit - Benediction
──────────────────
[☆ = favorite / ★= extra fave]


Irihi liked
ReplyQuote
Lassroyale
(@lassroyale)
Patron Saint of Hawtbois, Catboys, & BAMF Babes Noble
Joined: 1 year ago
Posts: 862
Journey starter  

TOM CAT

A Felonious Feline 

╺ ✽ ╸ 

LPC: 

Spoiler
Corrine De'Ville

FightWife (Corrine Wriedt) [FIGHT.PIT Shaarn]


DAY 5

"The Beginning of the End"

 

Tom-Cat couldn’t say how long his punishment had lasted, only that the sound of the leather belt striking his skin had become a rhythmic beat that faded into the background as he disassociated from the moment. The sharp, biting pain he felt with every blow to his back had gradually transformed into an all-encompassing, exquisite dull ache that had no beginning or end.  The catling had, at some random point during the whipping, thought to at least try and close himself off from the bond to prevent any of the hurt he was experiencing from leaking through to Miiya, but he was just tooexhausted.   

He barely had it in him to keep from passing out himself, let alone the energy to close himself off from their connection and spare his bondmate the pain he felt.  He only managed to stay awake and somewhat aware by holding fast to the hate and anger he felt for Holden, for Corrine, for Larkin, Max—for everything and everyone associated with this damn fight pit—his acrimony and fury burning far brighter than his pain. 

And Tom-Cat clenched his fists around those feelings, shredding his palms on their jagged edges until the shape of the wrath and hatred branded onto his core was sealed with the hot slickness of his blood.  

 

╺ ✽ ╸

 

Holden left the catling slumped over the workbench when they’d deemed his punishment finished.  He remained like that for some time, his cheek pressed tiredly into the work-top’s cool, wooden surface as he drifted somewhere in-between awareness and unconsciousness.  At some point he heard the door to the cell slide open and shut, and distantly recognized Corrine’s soft footsteps approaching.  Right then, he didn’t have the will to fight her and simply allowed her to unshackle his wrists, uncaring that he leaned heavily against her as she ushered him to the bed a few feet away.  He let her sit him down at the edge of the cot and remained hunched over, his ears flat and his tail wrapped around his calf, not really paying attention to what she was doing as she briefly departed and returned, a few minutes later.   He just stared dully at the point where the chain attached to his collar was connected to a large o-ring in the middle of the cell floor.

Tom-Cat released a low hiss of surprise, however, when Corrine touched his back with a warm, wet washcloth, sending a wave of fiery pain erupting through him.  He snapped around, ignoring the blaze that rippled across his back, and grasped her wrists tightly.  His features were drawn tight with pain as he snarled, Kwesh! What arrre you doing, Corrrrrine-ana?  

He didn’t care when she flinched due to his harsh grip on her wrists, nor did he let himself feel sorry for the unquestionably hurt expression that twisted her pretty face at the derivational suffix he’d appended to her name, which denoted the utmost distaste for the subject to which it’d been attached.  He won't let her doe-eyed look make him feel bad; after all, there had to be something that Corrine possessed that explained—at least in part—why she and Holden were together.  Because while Corrine might be stupidly ignorant, she wasn’t  innocent.  Not at all. He'd seen glimpses of it, an almost unconscious sadism that tightened and thinned her dreamy smile until it was sharp and cruel.   

He’d seen the thoughtless cruelty in her eyes, and he thought that it was one of the worst types of cruelty, because it was such an ignorant sort of cruelty.  It was cruelty born of people whose answer to a question like: What is the quickest way for an eight horse stagecoach carrying life-saving medicine, to get from the Apothecary at Point A to the Orphanage at Point B?  Was to choose the route that bisected the busiest street in the city, and cleaved straight through carriages and pedestrians alike, heedless of who or what was trampled under hoof or wheel—and all because it was the most direct path.  And the most terrible part of their answer was that they weren’t  trying to be cruel.  Truly.  They weren’t.  They were simply choosing the path that got the medicine delivered in the least amount of time, not even considering for one second that their solution caused more loss of life than the single life the medicine would have saved.

It was the cruelty of people who thought they were helping.

It described Corrine to the letter. 

Wh-what?” Corrine stuttered, her eyelashes fluttering and her mouth forming a lip-quivering moue that made the catling want to scream at her.  “I-I’m just cleaning yer back, my lov—”  she began, but Tom-Cat cut her off.  Now he did  raise his voice as anger ripped through him, and his grip on her wrists tightened until her face contorted in pain.

Don’t call me that!” he snapped, baring his fangs at her in an animalistic snarl.  “I’m not yourrr anything, got that?”  In spite of what he told himself, Tom-Cat eased up his grip when he noticed Corrine wincing in discomfort.  He let go after a moment, though instantly regretted it when the Drowess reached up and stroked his cheek, her expression just so…uncomprehending. 

As always. 

A frustrated growl rumbled in his chest.

Oh Leona,” sighed Corrine, her lips curving into a small, indulgent smile.  “Yer so cute when yer angry.”  She leaned up and tried to kiss him.  Tom-Cat grit his teeth, turning his face away.  He ground his teeth together as she pouted at him, his ears flattening even further and the tip of his tail twitching out an agitated drumbeat against his calf as he fought the urge to shake her—violently.  

Corrine, as ever, didn’t seem to notice—or didn’t care—that he’d gone taut with irritation.  She crawled behind him on the bed and once more began to wash his back, humming a little, nonsensical tune as she did so. Tom-Cat hissed, but he couldn’t deny that her gentle ministrations felt good and helped to ease the burning pain of his back.  Against his will, the catling felt himself begin to relax, his eyes falling halfway shut as he gave in and allowed Corrine to clean and wash the angry lash marks that striped his skin.  

If he hadn’t been so exhausted and so heartsick (for his bondmate), and if he wasn’t already struggling to maintain his flagging hope that Miiya was actually looking for and would soon find him, then Tom-Cat might have done more to reject the aftercare.  Because it was confusing.  As it was, the tender care only served to reinforce the stark reality that Miiya hadn’t found him.  As it was, Corrine’s gentle touch only served to drive home a splinter of doubt that had insinuated itself under his thoughts, just a single, poisonous idea that, in his exhaustion, managed to take root in the fertile soil of his ever-present self-loathing and feeling of worthlessness: she (Miiya) isn’t coming forrr me, because she doesn’t need me now that she’s rrregained herrr sky.

As always, even thinking it made the bile rise in the back of his throat—but not as much, this time.  Instead of a sharp clench in his chest, Tom-Cat only felt a dull throb, like an echo reverberating through an increasingly empty void. 

Perhaps it was a form of self-preservation or just maybe just a result of the increasing belief that he’d been abandoned, but the bond was starting to flatten within him as he unconsciously closed himself off to it, more and more.  He wasn’t aware that he was doing it or that his own self-doubt and toxic thoughts had begun to choke the connection between himself and Miiya, because there was still a deep-rooted part of him that continually reached out for her.  It was a part that would not be quelled, no matter how narrow their connection became, because it was that ancient and primal part of him that knew, without the shadow of a doubt, that everything would be okay if only he could be with his bondmate.  

If only he could see her again.

That part would never  die, but the voice that called out to her, was growing fainter with each passing day.

Tom-Cat sighed a little as Corrine applied a healing salve across his back, taking the time to rub the ointment into his skin, her hands soft and gentle.  His tail stopped lashing as he felt some of the tension ebb from him, the tautness of his muscles uncoiling and relaxing as the salve began to numb his pain.  (His outward pain, at least—there was little to be done for the pain in his heart, the longer he was separated from Miiya.)  The catling looked up when Corrine shifted around to his front, but quickly dropped his gaze when she gently touched the left side of his face, tracing the still raw-looking scar that now ran from the middle of his eyebrow, straight down to the top of his cheek.  His kohl-rimmed eyes were downcast, but Tom-Cat didn't move as Corrine grazed her fingers over the unsightly mark—at least, that's how he perceived it—the rigidity of his jaw expressing his feelings about the scar better than words could. 

Tom-Cat didn’t look up when Corrine rubbed some of the healing ointment into the scar, though he did find it within him to mutter a low, “Thanks.”  

This time he didn’t jerk away when she brushed her lips against his, though he didn’t really reciprocate, either.  Still, he couldn’t deny the relief that washed over him when Corrine didn’t press it further and got up, gathering up the supplies she’d brought.  His relief was short-lived, however, because the Drowess quickly returned to his space and perched next to him on the bed.  She deftly unzipped her dress as she tilted forward, the straps slipping off her shoulders to pool at her waist as she leaned up against him.  

Kwesh!  He was just so goddamned tired.  And he’d stupidly hoped that watching him be whipped by her husband, would have cooled Corrine’s desire—at least for a little while.  He should have guessed that the aftercare she provided was transactional.  Tom-Cat huffed out a frustrated breath when Corrine skimmed her mouth along the sharp line of his jaw, shivering as her fingers drifted down his chest and ghosted over his ribs, before sketching out the contours of his stomach.  Her hand dropped lower and Tom-Cat grabbed her wrist.

Kwesh, rrreally?” he growled.  “Now?  Afterrr  you watched yourrr  husband  beat me with his belt?” 

Corrine wasn’t deterred.  She wound her free hand in Tom-Cat’s hair and yanked his face down to hers.  “Oh my love,” she murmured, snagging his bottom lip with her teeth.  “Yew know that Holden wouldn’t need to punish yew if you simply followed the rules.”  She caught him in a forceful kiss.  “And yes—I want yew at least twice before yer fight tonight.”  Corrine sighed, her lips curving into a wicked grin.  “And after yer fight, too.

Gods, she just didn’t get it.

Tom-Cat felt the fight drain out of him as he let go of Corrine’s wrist.  This is what they’d agreed upon, right?

It was just a transaction.

No more, no less.

He was a mercenary.

Although as Tom-Cat pulled Corrine into his lap, this time he did find the energy to close himself off from the bond.

 

TOM-CAT: [KIANA BEACH:First Stab - POUNCE (★1/2) - WATCHER BATTLE (3/★4/5/6/★7)] [GOBLIN SLAYING: (1)-(☆1/2)] – [ICE CAVES: CLIFFHANGER (★1/2) - POWDER KEG (★1/2/3) - HYPOTHERMIA (4/5/6) - BONDED (7/8/9/)] [SUNSTEALER:(1/2/3/4)-(1/2)] –Miiya & Cat-Tom [SPARRING: (1/2/★3)] - ☆The Great Tipsu Hunt! - ☆Stolen Kiss Overwhelmed by Intimacy Returning to Her Bath Time Bonding Wings, Tails, & Love Cave Storms Climbing the Walls [1st KISS: Chase-(★2/3/4)] Cat-Tom: Rescue Kitty! Cat-Tom vs. Skaven (Forced) Shift Back 9 Lives A Beast in the Darkness Reuniting w/Teleskela Bored Nihilism Cat vs. Dragon Emotionally Exhausted Bath Catboy, Interrupted All For Her Bellissimo Gato [BATH-HOUSE: Confessions(1/2/3/4)] Catboys Can Purr Bagels, Love Poems & Catnapping Love Poem [FIGHT PIT: CHAMPION SUITE (★1.No, no, no.../2a-2b/3.Prostitution/★4.Tipsu/5/6a-6b/★7a-7b.Holden's/Proposition) - GRAND ARENA (Leona/F#1/★F#4/★Cat-Tom vs.Werewolf: 1/2/3) - LOST (1/★2) - FOUND (3/4a-4b/5/★6.Swansong Kiss) - RESCUE (★1.Teleskela, MF'er/2/3.Reawakened Bond) - ESCAPE (4/5/6/7)]
───────────
DAETH: Breaking Callon - Pleasure w/Pain - Teasing Amarice - [DAYTRIP: LAVISH HAND (1/2/3a-3b/4.Sensing Death] - Kissing Fate(1a-1b) - Precariously Balanced Nature - At Long Last, Eddellyn - Soul Searching - Into the Maze - ★The Minotaur & The Labyrinth - Heart of the Maze - Before the Storm - Thunder & Honey - ★Ripped Gowns - ★Sensual Poetry - Warding Sigils - Hedonistic Filth & House-Sized Party Crasher - Confronting Maarazaar(1/2/3) - Ash Bunny Irihi - Cormeum MIA (stolen heart) - A Vow & Shadowy Msg
───────────
RISQUÉ: Fun with Fisticuffs!
[CHATTE]Enter Chatte - Chat w/Castor -Proposing the Race
[ASMODIEL & GALVINA] ★A Celestial & Demoness Play Cards - Asmodiel Smites a Feeder - An Angel & Aeros Walk Into a Bar... - Undaunted Spirit - Benediction
──────────────────
[☆ = favorite / ★= extra fave]


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Lassroyale
(@lassroyale)
Patron Saint of Hawtbois, Catboys, & BAMF Babes Noble
Joined: 1 year ago
Posts: 862
Journey starter  

TOM CAT

A Felonious Feline 

╺ ✽ ╸ 

LPC: 

Spoiler
Holden De'Ville

Holden DeVille (PIT BOSS) 43


DAY 6:

"The Persistence of Loss" 

🎵 Momma Sed by Pucsifer 

 

As Tom-Cat watches Holden enter the room alone and close the heavy wooden door behind them, he can tell that this isn’t like the other visits; there’s obviously some sort of ulterior purpose. He has his suspicions, but pushes aside the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.  He stands next to the cot and eyes Holden as they leisurely saunter up to the bars of the cell, carelessly taking a drag off their cigarette.  Holden is bare-chested beneath their luxurious fur coat, and the catling spies bare feet peeking out from beneath the rolled cuffs of their jeans.  He absently notes that Holden’s nails (both fingers and toes) are perfectly manicured and painted with glossy black polish, except for a single, white-painted nail on each hand and foot—the index finger and pinky toe, respectively.   

 

Like something you see, sweetheart?”  

 

Holden’s simpering tone snaps Tom-Cat back to attention. When he sees Holden's smirking face, his eyes narrow and he folds back his ears, his tail lashing as an annoyed hiss slithers up his throat. There’s something quietly vicious implied within the curve of Holden’s grin, as if the disparaging, curled-lip expression is actually a bared-teeth snarl wearing the skin of a sneer.  The catling clenches his jaw when he meets Holden’s eyes; the abject smugness glinting within that cool, steel-grey gaze sends a flashfire of anger searing through his chest.  The anger is strange, a caustic brew created from days of compounding exhaustion, pain, and distress, all mixed in with the last dregs of his pathetic and fading hope.  It feels hot and irrational as it sluices through his veins.

 

Tom-Cat’s anger burns through him rapidly in a way that makes him feel abraded and drained, every lesion on his core bleeding out his once-certain belief that Miiya was coming for him.  It leaves him feeling strung-out and heart-sick and when he finally replies to Holden his voice is thick with subdued weariness.

 

"Keh, so what do you want?” he asks.   

 

Holden clicks their tongue in chastisement and blows a smoke ring into the air.  “It kills me to see you like this, Leona,” Holden says conversationally, ignoring the catling’s question.  “You know, I was afraid this might happen,” they muse, frowning.  “Especially since you’ve been here, what? Six days, already?” Holden taps their lips, then exhales a plume of smoke that seeps out between their teeth like seive.  His mouth curves in a glass-sharp grin.  “And absolutely no one has come looking for you—not even the owner of that tipsu.”  Holden’s tone is friendly, if indifferent, and yet oh-so casually cruel.  

 

Tom- Cat attempts to stop his body's instinctive recoil in response to Holden's remarks, but he can't keep his shoulders from jerking slightly as his chest tightens, a heavy weight settling at the bottom of his sternum.  He unconsciously wraps his tail around his leg and drops his gaze to the side, his jaw clamped and rigid.  He doesn’t respond.   

 

One of Tom-Cat’s ears twitches and swivels when he hears Holden unlock the sliding door to his cell. He doesn’t look up as the door is opened and the other man steps inside.  

 

Mmm.  Look, I’m just stating the facts.  And we both know the truth: she isn’t coming.”  He hears Holden shrug and takes a drag off their cigarette.  Tom-Cat grimaces as the man blows smoke at the side of his face.  “I’m sorry to state it so plainly, sweetheart,” Holden murmurs, trailing their bare fingers against the Tom-Cat’s hip as they pass.   

 

Holden leans up against the workbench in the center of the cell…where only yesterday they’d tied the catling down, before lashing him with their belt.  Holden stubs out the cigarette on the scarred worktop, heedlessly flicking away the butt before relaxing back and loosely folding their arms as they study the catling with a speculative glint in their cool grey eyes.  

 

After a moment, Tom-Cat raises his head and catches Holden staring at him with a pointed, albeit contemplative look.  He feels some of his rebelliousness come rushing back.  He lifts his chin and meets Holden’s eye, defiance burning under the surface of his kohl-rimmed gaze.  Tom-Cat’s thoughts start to race beneath the veneer of his flat, callous expression, fragments looping feverishly through fatigue-laden conduits of his mind.   

 


Kwesh!...they'rrre alone? Can’t be…but maybe?...Wherrre’s…Max and Larrrkin have gotta be outside doorrr.,,But what if, what if??...

 (Why does that matter? You’ve got nowhere to go, little whore.  Do you know why? Because you’re worthless.)

 

….shut-up….Holden is alone...why?...Kwesh—it doesn’t matterrr…Now’s my chance…what if it’s a trrrap?…I don’t carrre…

 She doesn’t want you.  If she had, she would’ have found you by now.  She doesn’t need you. )

 

…shut-up, shut-up, SHUT-UP!...it’s not trrrue, it’s NOT…it can’t be…she wouldn’t abandon me…

 (So pathetic.  Who'd want a little whore like you? Worthless scum. Only good for one thing...)

 

...no...I-I haven’t been a-abandoned…(rrright?)...now’s my chance—NOW…I’ve gotta take my chance. Now—

 —Holden speaks, and his words instantly bring all of Tom-Cat’s increasingly frenzied and self-destructive, vicious thoughts crashing to a halt.


 

Look, let’s cut to the chase: I know you’ve been vithing my wife.  And have taken her for some wild rides, given how moon-eyed and scatterbrained Corrine’s been lately...isn’t that right, Tom-Cat?”    

 

For a long, uncomfortable moment, silence reigns in the room.  Tom-Cat is floored.   His thoughts are an even more confusing jumble as they race through his head, tripping over one another and sliding through each other as his mind struggles to accept what it just heard. 

For a moment he stares blankly at Holden, like a kid staring uncomprehendingly at a brand new iPad, when the only thing they’d wanted (and asked for) was a new Louisville Slugger Junior baseball bat, for their birthday.  He doesn’t even try to sort through his emotions.  His nerves feel scraped raw by the shock-saturated silence, and the intensity of Holden’s grey-eyed stare cuts deeply into him, as if they’re trying to expose his vulnerabilities, his weak points.  His heart hammers too-fast in his chest, the roar of blood rushing through his veins drowning out all other noise.  

 

Tom-Cat can tell that Holden isn’t lying—they know.  And now they’re just waiting for his reaction, just waiting to see if he’ll lie or if he’ll try to spin the narrative.  Is this the point of Holden’s visit? Was there a group of enforcers and heavies waiting on the other side of the wooden door, waiting for Holden to signal them to burst in and kill him, once he answers? Kwesh! At this point, does his answer even matter?  Or would a group of enforcers swarm through the door, regardless of what he says? 

 

And, most importantly: how does Holden know his real jookan name?  

 

Tom-Cat swallows past the sudden lump lodged in his throat and finds that his airway is constricted, his chest almost too tight to draw a breath; he’s sure something will rupture if something—anything—isn't said soon.  So he does.  He pushes his exhaustion, his ever-growing despondency—all of it—way, way down, compressing it and everything else until his emotions are flat, smooth; until he feels detached from them.  It unwinds the tightness from his chest and replaces it with a numb, hollow core.   

 

The catling unfolds a little and adopts a more relaxed pose, with one hand resting carelessly upon a jutted hip.  He sketches a tight grin unto his lips, the points of his fangs faintly dimpling his bottom lip as he initially offers Holden his answer in the almost elegant rise and fall of one shoulder.1   It says:  Keh, both know it’s trrrue, kopil, so why deny it?  Sorry—I can’t help that yourrr wife needed something she wasn’t getting at home.   

 

Out loud he asks, “How do you know my name?

 

Holden’s smirk widens at both his shrug and question, but instead of responding, they lazily dig out the silver cigarette case and lipstick red lighter from their back pocket, the action doing little to put the catling at ease.  Holden glances at the catling and raises a brow, swiftly lighting another cigarette.  They pause to take a deep inhale, before answering.  Holden shoots Tom-Cat a wry grin as smoke trickled from the corner of their mouth. 

 

Ah ah, little spoons don’t ask big questions, sweetheart,” Holden says cryptically.  They click their tongue in decidedly chiding manner.  

 

Tom-Cat feels a faint trace of vexation wash over his skin like a hot flash.   He waits for Holden to go on, gritting his teeth when they don’t elaborate.  The tip of his tail begins to slowly flick back and forth, signaling his distant irritation. 

 

The catling sighs.  

 

What the kvek does that even mean?” he snaps, though his tone lacks true heat or passion. 

 


1 Some think shrugs to be a vague, noncommittal way to express one’s conveyances, but it really depends on who’s doing the shrugging.  It’s pretty well known that Reachlanders, Sidhe, and Catboys have the most prolific shrugs known to man, able to communicate impassioned speeches in the mere whip and twist of a single shoulder.  (It’s been rumored that at one time a peace treaty between two warring Reachland Clans was negotiated solely via the conveyance of increasingly expressive shrugs, traded between the clan leaders over many, many  tankards of honeyed mead.)

TOM-CAT: [KIANA BEACH:First Stab - POUNCE (★1/2) - WATCHER BATTLE (3/★4/5/6/★7)] [GOBLIN SLAYING: (1)-(☆1/2)] – [ICE CAVES: CLIFFHANGER (★1/2) - POWDER KEG (★1/2/3) - HYPOTHERMIA (4/5/6) - BONDED (7/8/9/)] [SUNSTEALER:(1/2/3/4)-(1/2)] –Miiya & Cat-Tom [SPARRING: (1/2/★3)] - ☆The Great Tipsu Hunt! - ☆Stolen Kiss Overwhelmed by Intimacy Returning to Her Bath Time Bonding Wings, Tails, & Love Cave Storms Climbing the Walls [1st KISS: Chase-(★2/3/4)] Cat-Tom: Rescue Kitty! Cat-Tom vs. Skaven (Forced) Shift Back 9 Lives A Beast in the Darkness Reuniting w/Teleskela Bored Nihilism Cat vs. Dragon Emotionally Exhausted Bath Catboy, Interrupted All For Her Bellissimo Gato [BATH-HOUSE: Confessions(1/2/3/4)] Catboys Can Purr Bagels, Love Poems & Catnapping Love Poem [FIGHT PIT: CHAMPION SUITE (★1.No, no, no.../2a-2b/3.Prostitution/★4.Tipsu/5/6a-6b/★7a-7b.Holden's/Proposition) - GRAND ARENA (Leona/F#1/★F#4/★Cat-Tom vs.Werewolf: 1/2/3) - LOST (1/★2) - FOUND (3/4a-4b/5/★6.Swansong Kiss) - RESCUE (★1.Teleskela, MF'er/2/3.Reawakened Bond) - ESCAPE (4/5/6/7)]
───────────
DAETH: Breaking Callon - Pleasure w/Pain - Teasing Amarice - [DAYTRIP: LAVISH HAND (1/2/3a-3b/4.Sensing Death] - Kissing Fate(1a-1b) - Precariously Balanced Nature - At Long Last, Eddellyn - Soul Searching - Into the Maze - ★The Minotaur & The Labyrinth - Heart of the Maze - Before the Storm - Thunder & Honey - ★Ripped Gowns - ★Sensual Poetry - Warding Sigils - Hedonistic Filth & House-Sized Party Crasher - Confronting Maarazaar(1/2/3) - Ash Bunny Irihi - Cormeum MIA (stolen heart) - A Vow & Shadowy Msg
───────────
RISQUÉ: Fun with Fisticuffs!
[CHATTE]Enter Chatte - Chat w/Castor -Proposing the Race
[ASMODIEL & GALVINA] ★A Celestial & Demoness Play Cards - Asmodiel Smites a Feeder - An Angel & Aeros Walk Into a Bar... - Undaunted Spirit - Benediction
──────────────────
[☆ = favorite / ★= extra fave]


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Lassroyale
(@lassroyale)
Patron Saint of Hawtbois, Catboys, & BAMF Babes Noble
Joined: 1 year ago
Posts: 862
Journey starter  

 

HOLDEN DE'VILLE

 Proprietor of The Oubliette

╺ ✽ ╸ 

LPC:

Spoiler
Fight Pit Boss

Holden DeVille (PIT BOSS) 43


DAY 6:

"The Downward Spiral" 

🎵 Momma Sed by Pucsifer 

 

Holden pushes away from the table, their cigarette loosely dangling between their lips as they shrug the plush fur coat from their shoulders and set it carefully on the workbench.  Holden comes closer, movements easy and unhurried.  “What I mean, my darling Tom-Cat, is that I’m going to offer you a chance to earn your freedom.”  Holden meets Tom-Cat’s eyes, their gaze momentarily taking on the quality and color of cold steel.  “Be aware that you will never ever have a chance in hell of escaping the pit if any harm befalls me—understood?”    

 

After a moment or two, the catling gives a terse nod.  Holden’s teeth look straight and sharp behind the curve of their razor-edged smile.  They step inside of Tom-Cat’s personal space and move in a slow orbit around him, casting an appreciative eye over the numerous healing cuts and bruises that emboss the catboy's tan, supple skin. 

Good, I’m glad we understand each other,” Holden mutters, pausing at the boy's back to admire their handiwork.  The exquisite design of intersecting lash marks precisely laid out over the catboy’s back and shoulders, is beautiful.  Holden is an artist, after all.  Pain and punishment serve as both their art form and medium, as they employ punishment as a brush and the body as a canvas, on which shades of pain are painted en camaieu rouge, negro, et bleu  to produce magnificent works of art. 

Holden moves back around to Tom-Cat’s front and stands before him, their gaze briefly wandering across the chiseled hollows of the boy’s physique before flicking up to the catling's face.   

Just so you know, I don’t particularly care that you’ve been vithing my wife.” Holden idly hooks one of his hands into their belt and shrugs a shoulder.  “What I does bother me, is that you are the first person that Corrine has actually gone behind my back with.  See, I don’t give two jooks who she viths, as long as I know about it…and until you, she’s never failed to tell me.”  Holden rocks back on their heels a little, again eyeing up the catboy in front of them.  “Corrine usually wouldn’t dream of betraying me like that. I figured that I should come and see what all the fuss is about myself.” 

 

Holden’s grin spreads across their face like the slow unfurling of a war pennant. They lean forward, keeping the catling trapped within the steel grey cage of their gaze.  “Except I had some time to think on things this morning, to weigh the pros and cons of continuing to keep you as our champion.”  They grin when Tom-Cat’s brow furrows faintly in confusion.  Holden chuckles.  “Ever wonder why no Oubliette champion makes it past Night 4?”  Their brow quirks.  “No? Well, here’s a little secret: that’s not a fault—it’s a feature.” 

 

Holden takes a long drag from their cigarette, which had nearly burned down to the filter.  They flick the butt over their shoulder. Aw, don’t look so surprised, sweetheart.   I run a business, after all—and a business needs to constantly be turning a profit.  You think a 4-day run for a champion was just chosen arbitrarily? Hardly.  After much trial and error, we’ve learned that 4 days is the magic number that a champion can fight, whilst generating the most R.O.IAny longer, and I start losing money.”   

 

Holden straightens and leans away, absently reaching into their back pocket for the cigarette case…which is apparently sitting on top of the workbench where it'd been left—right next to the lipstick red lighter.  Holden glances at the worktable, pursing their lips, before ultimately sighing and looking back at Tom-Cat.  “If you haven’t already guessed why there’s such a hard pivot in profits after a certain point, let me put it like this: all those monsters you’ve been killing every night in the arena do  not  come cheap," Holden says with a slight grimace.  "Far from it.  At some point, the cost of replenishing the stock of in-house monsters for our champion fights, becomes a negative return on our investment.” 

 

Holden pauses to let the information percolate through the catboy’s mind, their steel-grey gaze never wavering from him.  They use that time to study Tom-Cat’s features, noting the defined contour of a shapely jaw; the full swell of the bottom lip, which gave the mouth a slight, unconsciously seductive pout; the sharp, haughty angle of the eyebrows; and of course, those smoldering and dark-rimmed, wildly flashing eyes.  The catboy is beautiful.  And that beauty would only grow and settle into something that was simply devastating 

 

if  the catboy actually lives that long, of course.  

 

So now that you understand all of that,” Holden suddenly exclaims, breaking the somewhat tense silence that had fallen.  They bite back a snicker as they catch the startled twitch of Tom-Cat’s ears.  “What do you suppose I should do with you?”  Holden’s eyelids drop to half-mast as they regard the catling.  “By all means, I should simply kill you, since you refuse to die in the arena.”  Holden huffs out a cutting, unkind chuckle.  “But I see more…potential, in you." A gleam of something greedy and dark enters their eyes, darkening them to a dark, smoke grey.  "I’ve told you that I’m a fair man," Holden mutters. They start to advance, and Tom-Cat stumbles back as a thin thread of some vague and nameless panic begins to leach into his yellow-gold eyes—the same kind of panic that had utterly possessed him yesterday, when he’d been initially restrained and strapped down.  “So I’ll give you a fair shot to earn your freedom.”   

 

Holden’s hand abruptly whips out and grabs the long chain that trails down from Tom-Cat’s collar to a metal ring bolted into the floor near the cot.  They yank hard on the chain and jerk the catling off-balance, forcing him to stumble forward. Holden tucks his fingers beneath the thick, black leather collar that was securely attached around Tom-Cat’s elegant neck before curling his fingers over the top of the strap and locking their fist into an uncompromising hold.  Thus snared, Holden calmly draws the catboy in by the collar, never breaking eye contact as they bring their faces close together. 

 

What do you think is fair, mm sweetheart?” Holden says softly, their tone suddenly low and smooth as their breath ghosted warmly across the sweep of the catling’s cheek.  Their voice is like dark brown velvet as it rasps at the periphery of the catboy’s vision.  “What can you do that's both a fair task that will show me how badly you want your freedom…that’s also a suitable punishment for vithing my wife making Corrine betray me, for the first time ever?”   

 

Holden leans forward and murmurs something into Tom-Cat’s ear. 

 

The catling immediately tries to jerk back but is stopped by Holden’s uncompromising grip on his collar, preventing him from opening the space between them.  Holden’s steely grey eyes flash briefly as their hold on the collar tightens.  Ah ah—settle down and think about it, sweetheart.  If you impress me and win tonight’s fight, I will turn you loose in the morning—no strings attached.  By tomorrow morning you could be leaving the Main Hub of Nalos and be back in the Anthos Central Nexus in time for an early brunch.”  

 

Holden cants their head and gives the catling a hard look. 

 

So I’ll ask one more time, my dear Tom-Cat: what is your choice? Do we,” their fingers flex against the leather collar.  “...have an agreement?

TOM-CAT: [KIANA BEACH:First Stab - POUNCE (★1/2) - WATCHER BATTLE (3/★4/5/6/★7)] [GOBLIN SLAYING: (1)-(☆1/2)] – [ICE CAVES: CLIFFHANGER (★1/2) - POWDER KEG (★1/2/3) - HYPOTHERMIA (4/5/6) - BONDED (7/8/9/)] [SUNSTEALER:(1/2/3/4)-(1/2)] –Miiya & Cat-Tom [SPARRING: (1/2/★3)] - ☆The Great Tipsu Hunt! - ☆Stolen Kiss Overwhelmed by Intimacy Returning to Her Bath Time Bonding Wings, Tails, & Love Cave Storms Climbing the Walls [1st KISS: Chase-(★2/3/4)] Cat-Tom: Rescue Kitty! Cat-Tom vs. Skaven (Forced) Shift Back 9 Lives A Beast in the Darkness Reuniting w/Teleskela Bored Nihilism Cat vs. Dragon Emotionally Exhausted Bath Catboy, Interrupted All For Her Bellissimo Gato [BATH-HOUSE: Confessions(1/2/3/4)] Catboys Can Purr Bagels, Love Poems & Catnapping Love Poem [FIGHT PIT: CHAMPION SUITE (★1.No, no, no.../2a-2b/3.Prostitution/★4.Tipsu/5/6a-6b/★7a-7b.Holden's/Proposition) - GRAND ARENA (Leona/F#1/★F#4/★Cat-Tom vs.Werewolf: 1/2/3) - LOST (1/★2) - FOUND (3/4a-4b/5/★6.Swansong Kiss) - RESCUE (★1.Teleskela, MF'er/2/3.Reawakened Bond) - ESCAPE (4/5/6/7)]
───────────
DAETH: Breaking Callon - Pleasure w/Pain - Teasing Amarice - [DAYTRIP: LAVISH HAND (1/2/3a-3b/4.Sensing Death] - Kissing Fate(1a-1b) - Precariously Balanced Nature - At Long Last, Eddellyn - Soul Searching - Into the Maze - ★The Minotaur & The Labyrinth - Heart of the Maze - Before the Storm - Thunder & Honey - ★Ripped Gowns - ★Sensual Poetry - Warding Sigils - Hedonistic Filth & House-Sized Party Crasher - Confronting Maarazaar(1/2/3) - Ash Bunny Irihi - Cormeum MIA (stolen heart) - A Vow & Shadowy Msg
───────────
RISQUÉ: Fun with Fisticuffs!
[CHATTE]Enter Chatte - Chat w/Castor -Proposing the Race
[ASMODIEL & GALVINA] ★A Celestial & Demoness Play Cards - Asmodiel Smites a Feeder - An Angel & Aeros Walk Into a Bar... - Undaunted Spirit - Benediction
──────────────────
[☆ = favorite / ★= extra fave]


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Lassroyale
(@lassroyale)
Patron Saint of Hawtbois, Catboys, & BAMF Babes Noble
Joined: 1 year ago
Posts: 862
Journey starter  

TOM CAT

A Felonious Feline 

╺ ✽ ╸ 

LPC: 

Spoiler
Holden De'Ville

Holden DeVille (PIT BOSS) 43


DAY 6:

"Survivalism" 

🎵 Momma Sed by Pucsifer 

 

For a long moment, Tom-Cat is still.  His eyes are winched shut, and his muscles are tightly coiled as he stands, unmoving, with every line of his body drawn rigid with tension.  His ears don’t twitch, and his sinuous, grey-furred tail is frozen in mid-undulation.  His face is tight, lips pressed into a hard line, as a deep ‘v’ furrows his brow.

 

A few long minutes pass like this, an odd tension beginning to wind through the air, like the worlde itself was holding its breath.  

 

Another minute passes before Tom-Cat abruptly sucks in a huge, gulping breath that shudders through his body like a statue that has just become animate.  The catling opens his eyes and the tension is forced ebbs, and he forces himself to relaxes, pressing the rigidity from his body.  He blinks slowly as he focuses on Holden.  

 

He releases a quiet, steadying breath, the noise too-loud and wretched as it's swallowed by the viscid silence of the tense room.

 

Tom-Cat nods at Holden, then breathes out a firm, if barely audible, agreement. 

 

"Yes."

 

The grin that answers him is all teeth 

 

Holden shuts their fist around the thick leather band of the collar, and gives a short, firm tug as they haul the catling forward before closing the gap between them.

TOM-CAT: [KIANA BEACH:First Stab - POUNCE (★1/2) - WATCHER BATTLE (3/★4/5/6/★7)] [GOBLIN SLAYING: (1)-(☆1/2)] – [ICE CAVES: CLIFFHANGER (★1/2) - POWDER KEG (★1/2/3) - HYPOTHERMIA (4/5/6) - BONDED (7/8/9/)] [SUNSTEALER:(1/2/3/4)-(1/2)] –Miiya & Cat-Tom [SPARRING: (1/2/★3)] - ☆The Great Tipsu Hunt! - ☆Stolen Kiss Overwhelmed by Intimacy Returning to Her Bath Time Bonding Wings, Tails, & Love Cave Storms Climbing the Walls [1st KISS: Chase-(★2/3/4)] Cat-Tom: Rescue Kitty! Cat-Tom vs. Skaven (Forced) Shift Back 9 Lives A Beast in the Darkness Reuniting w/Teleskela Bored Nihilism Cat vs. Dragon Emotionally Exhausted Bath Catboy, Interrupted All For Her Bellissimo Gato [BATH-HOUSE: Confessions(1/2/3/4)] Catboys Can Purr Bagels, Love Poems & Catnapping Love Poem [FIGHT PIT: CHAMPION SUITE (★1.No, no, no.../2a-2b/3.Prostitution/★4.Tipsu/5/6a-6b/★7a-7b.Holden's/Proposition) - GRAND ARENA (Leona/F#1/★F#4/★Cat-Tom vs.Werewolf: 1/2/3) - LOST (1/★2) - FOUND (3/4a-4b/5/★6.Swansong Kiss) - RESCUE (★1.Teleskela, MF'er/2/3.Reawakened Bond) - ESCAPE (4/5/6/7)]
───────────
DAETH: Breaking Callon - Pleasure w/Pain - Teasing Amarice - [DAYTRIP: LAVISH HAND (1/2/3a-3b/4.Sensing Death] - Kissing Fate(1a-1b) - Precariously Balanced Nature - At Long Last, Eddellyn - Soul Searching - Into the Maze - ★The Minotaur & The Labyrinth - Heart of the Maze - Before the Storm - Thunder & Honey - ★Ripped Gowns - ★Sensual Poetry - Warding Sigils - Hedonistic Filth & House-Sized Party Crasher - Confronting Maarazaar(1/2/3) - Ash Bunny Irihi - Cormeum MIA (stolen heart) - A Vow & Shadowy Msg
───────────
RISQUÉ: Fun with Fisticuffs!
[CHATTE]Enter Chatte - Chat w/Castor -Proposing the Race
[ASMODIEL & GALVINA] ★A Celestial & Demoness Play Cards - Asmodiel Smites a Feeder - An Angel & Aeros Walk Into a Bar... - Undaunted Spirit - Benediction
──────────────────
[☆ = favorite / ★= extra fave]


Wynterleaf and Irihi liked
ReplyQuote
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