[pic] oh, when they come for me...

[trau]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,500,true][atrb=height,288,true][atrb=background,http://i51.tinypic.com/20r0ec1.jpg,true] Jinxerbee paced the floor of his storeroom, a broad grin plastered onto his faintly scratched up and scabbed white face. His body hadn't quite lost weight yet - he had only been imprisoned for a few days, and he'd already been half-starved before he'd arrived. His thick off-white fur was barely clinging to his lean frame, hanging from his belly like a giant fuzzy flap, and the cold jet black rosettes against his fur stood out and shimmered defiantly, only proving that this creature - though seeking to find redemption in the light - was nothing but darkness underneath. His cold blue eye was shining as he swept from side to side of the dark store room, broad claws padding gently against the cold ground. Despite the pain and agony that awaited him in God knew how long, he was feeling quite alive - thrilled, in fact. He was excited, and his entire body was tingling. He was feeling a bit too bold for his own good today. He couldn't help it; being in the Iris territory reminded him of how good it felt to score his claws through flesh and fur... too damn good. He was growing tired of being a pacifist now... fuck the peace and fuck this cooperative thing; if he was going down, he'd go down with gusto! He was already losing his fucking mind - he would swear on that. Honestly, no sane person would sentence themself to torture over something that they'd stopped doing ages ago. Jinxer had never made a claim to be sane, though. He knew what he needed to do. He'd killed so many innocent dogs, threatened so many loves and so many lives, and this was exactly where he needed to be. Sitting around in here waiting for his painful pleasure to come was quite agonizing, though, along with intoxicating. Jinxer used to be such a cocky, arrogant, ignorant, obnoxious little prick, but as soon as he'd spaced himself from the Pride, he'd become a calm, thoughtful, considerate and peaceful beast. How boring was that? He would have a great time in here, and despite how he'd wanted to change and stop being a murderer, who better to kill than those who had convinced him to kill all those years ago? A killer of killers seemed a suitable way to die. He could feel that mindset seeping back into him with every step he made and every breath he took. He hadn't gotten too badly hurt the night that Siri and Kira had taken him into the slaughterhouse - they'd been going easy on him. Either that or the adrenaline still hadn't worn off. Either way, he was eager to get this shit started. The two cats had threatened to let Florence know of his return, and he had assumed it was a bluff... however, he had heard, the day before, that she was, in fact, planning on making her way down to see him. It was thrilling and terrifying, just like jumping off a cliff and running for your life. Jinxer stopped pacing as a muffled voice touched his ear, his head swinging over to gaze at the door that led to his prison cell, his bushy tail flicking as his eyes sparked. Suddenly, another cat entered, a small ocelot. This cat had an air of... what was that? Effrontery? A major ego-freak? Oh, fuck no. The ocelot snickered and hissed, "Hey, scum. Florence is coming for you today. Ready to die?" Jinxer let out a loud, cackling laugh, clearly startling the little cat, as Jinxer lowered his head and hissed in a dangerously low voice, "That depends. Are you?" The ocelot didn't pack up on Jinxer's threat fast enough; the white cat leaped for the smaller male with a vicious snarl. The ocelot scrambled backwards, but not before Ulrich's heavy paws slammed down on top of it. It let out a shriek as his claws dug into its neck and shoulders, and Jinxer growled, "Careful what your next moves are. Any wrong one could end up with your neck on the other side of this cage." The cat hissed in a muffled voice, "Florence is gonna fuck you up." Jinxer hooked his claws into the cat's jaw and reared back, throwing the ocelot up against the roof and laughing as it slammed to the ground again. "Come on, kitty kitty... get up and figure out a move that won't get you tossed at the wall." Jinxer's head was low as he slowly prowled, circling the dazed and breathless ocelot. It stirred, slowly rising to its paws, and Jinxer smirked. "Well?" The ocelot turned quickly to face him and snarled, "You're nothing but stupid, worthless scum. You're going to die a traitor in this cell!" "Ehh - wrong answer!" Jinxer leaped for the ocelot immediately, but it dodged, returning the attack by leaping on Jinxerbee's back and biting at his ear. Jinxerbee let out an irritated hiss and shook his body like a madman, snarling, "Get the fuck off, you fugly cat!" The ocelot did not relent, and Jinxer backed up, rearing again and slamming the back of his head into the wall, crushing the ocelot between the wall and his hard skull. The ocelot let out a squeak and fell to the ground, and Jinxer walked away, tail up. He shouted, "Oh Floooorrrriiieeeee! Come get your little kittyyyyy!"

[♥Picasso]

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[atrb=background,http://i51.tinypic.com/b4x7ur.jpg] When Florence had discovered three of her cubs had been taken by the Tempest Pack, it was though a veil had been smothered over her eyes. Her body was working by itself now as Florence slowly let her mind drift, and drift... She was no longer the Florence that the Pride knew. She was a shell, walking with no sense of purpose, no sense of anything. Cats whispered that she had finally lost her mind, that the dogs had finally broken her. Once upon a time, Florence would have had those cats painfully slaughtered at such blasphemy, but now her ears were closed off to such words. It was like she was underwater; her vision was distorted, her hearing muffled, and her body was weightless. Florence paid no heed to the anxious looks her remaining son gave her every time he fed. She no longer spoke to him, no longer groomed him, and she no longer fell asleep to the comfort of lips around her teat. Feeding reminded her of the family she had had, and couldn't bear to go through it again. Once Denim was full of milk, she'd stand and leave the room without a backward glance. As Florence walked through endless alleyways, eyes unseeing, she caught the scent of someone from her distant past. She would never forget that scent. Suddenly, Florence knew what she wanted. She needed something to hurt, something to feel the pain and anguish and loss that she was feeling. She longed for the taste of bitter blood on her tongue, for the satisfying slice of teeth against flesh. She grabbed the nearest feline possible, pinning it against the dirty wall of an alley. The Ocelot's eyes were wide in fear, but after she got the whereabouts of Jinxer, she released him. A small smile curved on her lips as she began to stalk towards the slaughterhouse, mind set on hurting the snow leopard until she could hear his screams. Florence wasn't interested in talking; she just wanted to hurt. Once she reached his prison, he heard his familar voice calling out for her. Glancing at the Lynx guard, she instructed him, "Stay here. I don't want any other visitors." She then thundered into the room, gazing at the Ocelot corpse. She felt no anger for the death; he was a useless pawn that could be replaced in days. She kicked the carcass to the corner of the room, letting his head bleed out into the mushed pool. Her eyes were completely focused on the snow leopard. "No time for a chit-chat this time, kitty-cat," Florence snarled, approaching him with prickling fur, "Time for pain." She launched at the foolish leopard, claws unsheathed and ready to slash wherever she could. A ferocious roar echoed around the room as she let out all the pain she had been holding in. She wanted to feel this fucking leopard bleed out from underneath her, and she always got she wanted.

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[trau]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,500,true][atrb=height,288,true][atrb=background,http://i51.tinypic.com/20r0ec1.jpg,true] Jinxer was quiet now that he'd issued his challenge, though that stupid, defiant grin remained plastered on his tired white and black-spotted face. His body was carried up much higher than before on paws that felt light as air, for adrenaline could make one feel as though they were flying. He certainly felt like that, his body straight as an arrow as he practically pranced from one corner to the other on the farthest wall from the door. His ears were eternally angled towards the door, listening for any sign that Florence had heard. Perhaps the ocelot had been bluffing. Ah, the ocelot. Jinxer could smell the death slowly beginning to take hold of the air. Some part of Jinxer was feeling more alert and wary, somehow foreshadowing that death would soon take on his scent, but the bigger part of Jinxer was just raring to go and get in a fight with the leader of the Pride. The snow leopard honestly hadn't thought he'd crushed the ocelot so hard, but he supposed a giant leopard skull plus a wall could crunch just about anything it set its mind on, save for a rock, and skull was certainly not harder than a rock. Suddenly, he heard pawsteps, and not just steps, but the pissed off pawsteps of a giant cat with a whole lot of bitchiness and ego to match. Immediately his instinct told him that it was Florence; shortly after, his instinct let him know that the lioness was not in a good mood. Her quick entrance proved him right. Jinxer was surprised by how different she looked now from how she had looked when he had been a slave beneath her. Any number of things could have done this, but he would never know. The leader of the Iris Pride was skulking, her head low like she was on the hunt for blood, death, and misery. The short, sleek fur all along her lithe frame was prickling up like spines on a hedgehog, and her brows were furrowed, darkening her eyes - eyes that almost immediately set Jinxer on high alert. He had seen Florence at her worst before, but this... this was far beyond that. There wasn't just a blood-lust in her eyes. She didn't want to make him suffer. She wanted to make him pay and to feel pain unlike any he'd ever felt. Jinxer almost flinched when Florence entered the room and, upon seeing the ocelot, flung its limp corpse to the other side of the room. Its already fractured skull split through the skin as it impacted the wall, and it slumped to the ground in a pile of brain matter and blood. Jinxer's smile had faded almost as soon as she'd seen the loathing with which she'd regarded him and the corpse, and now it was replaced with a stern and solid stare laced with both fear and defiance. Was now the time for defiance? It would probably be the only thing to keep him from dying here and now. Florence's eyes - more venomous than any eyes he'd ever seen - were suddenly on him, and he prepared himself, unsheathing his still razor-like claws and lowering himself to dodge. Lord knew what her move would be, but the way she was staring him down, he wanted to be ready. Her voice rang, a snarl of hatred, "No time for chit-chat this time, kitty-cat. Time for pain." Jinxerbee's fur stood on end from the foreboding with which her words dripped, and suddenly she leaped for him like a bat out of hell, claws hacking this way and that, aiming for any claw-hold while her malevolent war-cry rang and echoed in the small room. The first battering with the wicked claws Jinxer avoided, if only narrowly, but he had ducked his hindquarters too low to take another step and leap from her path of destruction. He let out a loud snarl that fizzled off into a hiss as her heavy paws came down on his haunches, slamming his lower body into the ground and inflicting wounds that stung like fire. Jinxer wasn't the quickest bastard around, but he knew he'd have to prance for his life if he wanted to survive this experience. He couldn't recover quickly enough from the first of the blows to escape a second bout which was hard enough to even knock his front paws from beneath him. With no way to run now that Florence was likely almost literally on top of him, he had no choice but to fight back; he had to respond to her attacks quicker than she could deal them, but she was a lioness who was in much better shape than he, and every blow she made equaled at least four of his own, digging and ripping and tearing into his thick white coat. As quickly as he could manage, Jinxerbee rolled onto his back beneath the female, trying to force his opponent off by kicking out violent into her belly with strong back legs, simultaneously attempting to shove her to the side with his wide forepaws. Jinxerbee knew how it went in nature; he'd watched lions hunt. Soon as their prey was down, they were practically dead. Unless he could best the huntress, he'd be good as prey.

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[atrb=background,http://i51.tinypic.com/b4x7ur.jpg] It was a rare occasion when Florence literally saw red. Her view was blinded by the hot, red-white flashes as she lashed out at the snow leopard. Nothing else mattered, and she would gladly kill him over and over again. The problem was, the intense fury that sizzled within her made her fighting clumsy. She was easily making mistakes, exposing her neck too often, easily leaving her flanks out to view. If she was unlucky, Jinxer could easily pierce her with his claws or teeth, rendering her injured. This thought, however, barely crossed her mind as she managed to throw him to the ground. A manic smile appeared on her lips as she continued, slashing and biting anywhere she could. Her skin prickled, the adrenalin rushed through her body, and all she could hear was the pounding of blood in her ears, driving her forward. Florence wasn't expecting the hard kick to the stomach. Reeling, the lioness was thrown back in surprise. Panting harshly, Florence quickly snapped her head up to gaze at the snow leopard. Her abdomen stung from where Jinxer's claws had caught, but it wasn't even deep enough to scar. Scrambling to her paws once again, she began pacing in circles, continuing to watch the other animal. A faint crimson tinge of blood stained her maw from where she'd sunk her teeth into him, but it didn't look like she'd injured him fatally. No, he'd live. Unfortunately. Eyes blazing, Florence let herself control her breaths. If they continued fighting in such a manner, they would both die from exhaustion. She still had one cub to feed for, one cub who still needed her milk, so she had to stay strong for him. "You think you're so special," Florence suddenly spat, teeth glinting savagely, "You think you're so clever, but look at you. You're nothing more than scum." Florence slowed the pace she was circling him, making sure to look him in the eyes. She hated him. She wanted him dead, she wanted him to suffer. Florence wanted nothing more to stand over his dead body and maul him until he was unrecognisable. In that split second, her mind supplied, So what are you waiting for? Again, Florence didn't think. She once again leapt at the snow leopard, teeth stretching out for his neck. She wanted to rip his throat out. She wanted to slice through his chest and take his heart and pound it to liquid. Florence snarled, tail lashing. Florence would not let this traitor live any longer. ooc // wahay sorry for the wait. my muse for Florrie is terrible x3

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[trau]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,500,true][atrb=height,288,true][atrb=background,http://i51.tinypic.com/20r0ec1.jpg,true] Jinxerbee could scarcely recall ever seeing the lioness in a fit of rage so passionate as this which betrayed her usual prowess now. Had he not been so determined to get into this fight, he knew his life would be flashing before his eyes and he'd be sprawling and convulsing like a dead fish beneath her evil claws; however, while this was not exactly what he had anticipated, he had expected it, and damn it, he had received it. He was getting what had been coming to him, and from the first time her claw cut his skin, he felt the weight lifted from his heart. Still, this fury was something quite different than he'd expected; Florence was not a berserker - usually. She was cool, calm, and calculating, with a lust for pain and a fatal edge that never seemed to leave. She was usually so controlled, taunting and playing with her prey before she ended it, but not now. Now she was clumsy. She was so consumed by her anger at whatever the hell had happened that she did not think of consequences of each action; she didn't consider all the moves the pawn could retaliate with. She was big and strong, but the bigger they were, the harder they fell. Sadly, Jinxer could fall pretty hard, too. As soon as she had him on his back beneath her, she was going at him with tooth and claw in a deadly and dangerous war. She wanted him dead. She wasn't playing, nor was Jinxer. Every time her heavy paws beat at his face and her curved claws ripped and tore at his skin, Jinxer could feel the blood rush out. It didn't take long for her to get over-confident, or at least a bit carried away. As soon as she seemed so fixed on attacking him that he could retaliate, he kicked up into her stomach. Unfortunately for Jinxer, he was a bit weak from lack of food. Being a snow leopard allowed him to maintain the notoriously strong power in his hind legs, but it would barely be enough to seriously hurt the behemoth of a bitch, especially when factoring in his low energy level. Luckily, though, she was caught unaware at a moment when her muscles had momentarily relaxed, allowing him to send her back a considerable distance. He was almost surprised to feel the weight taken off, and a little bit shaken once the blows stopepd raining on his face. He scrambled to his feet, his greasy fur prickling in unkempt spikes along his spine and shoulders. His thick tail was flashing from one side to the other as he unsheathed his own claws. It was hard to keep track of Florence; just when he thought he'd spotted her, she scrambled to her feet, her claws sounded like a death warrant against the floor. His glinting blue eye found her as she began to pace, her movement in an arc that brought her towards him. He joined in the movement, and together they circled, her with her eyes fixed on him and him with his eye fixed on her. He looked her over. She looked like she wasn't doing too well. She looked thinner than she had, which was odd, seeing as they'd just come out of summer, one of the best hunting seasons. She looked... ill, in a way. Like she was sick. Obviously she was pretty sick in the head, but this was different. From the strange illness, there was unbelievable anger and power. Something was ailing her... The clumsiness and lack of control didn't add up. She was Florence, the leader of the Pride, not some common psychopath. "You think you're so special!" Jinxer was relatively surprised by the sudden outburst. Her face was contorted with anger. "You think you're so clever, but look at you. You're nothing more than scum." Jinxer replied in a voice that was barely his own, "I was never anything more than scum. I subjected myself to a life of mediocrity and pain the day the virus killed the humans." His ears flicked back against his head, and he growled, "I was never anything more than scum to you." She did not give him a warning as she swept in to attack again; she closed the gap between them within one leap, and Jinxer scrambled back. In a split second, he made a choice, turning his back quickly against the charging lioness. She had every intent to kill him right on the spot, and he had no intent to let it happen. Though he wouldn't be able to avoid her completely, he would at least avoid getting his throat bitten at; the side of his neck would be the only targetable object, and he didn't doubt that she'd use that.