Bakeries - The Stuff of Nightmares [open]

[| Decima |]

Feet skidded agianst the pavement, sending the body they were attached to crashing into a wall, the pain was nothing as she flew forward a moment after. He crashed right behind her, waving something in his beefy hands. She wasn't sure what it was, but it was thwacking loudly against the walls of the narrow alley, and besides she didn't have time to turn around and look. "Git outta here!" The cans she'd been scrounging around had been knocked over after he'd seen her, and scrambled outside. Nevermind that knocking over the trash cans had scattered more than she had, or that now that the contents were scattered against the ground, it would attract other, worser things.

Who would've known. Bakeries, the stuff of nightmares for this gal. Though of course the owner had failed to recognize his own worker... though really who would? all decked out in fur as she was.

The small golden hued cat tumbled away from the man, who stopped chasing her when she'd reached the hend of the alley. He stood at the opening with a menacing looking scowl on his bulbous features. Slightly lighter green tinted eyes turned to look at him once again, before making her way toward home.

She kept toward the doors of the shops, though was vigilant, it was extremely painful to be stepped on, and if she blacked out, as she had before when it had happened, it was likely the little golden cat would turn back into the awkward 20 year old that currently controlled it's body. The last time she'd had the threaten the woman at knifepoint, and then bribe her all of her months wages. And even then she'd moved out of the neighborhood just to be sure. The slums lay across the wall, which looked like nothing more than a garden hedge from here. Her new apartment was there, crude and disgusting, but it got the job done. She was hardly ever there anyway.

A door opened near her head, and she bolted, the cackle of a small child causing her to bunch her tail between her legs and crouch in the gutter. She was up at trotting a second after the little boy and his mother had passed. She'd learned from experience never to linger in the streets after she'd gotten her food buffer, and slip home as quick as possible.

The cans or trash heaps were the only things she'd scrounge from, unable to supress her human instinct enough to hunt mice. Perhaps the slums on the other side of the gate might have been a better choice, but ravenous citizens would soon snatch a cat off the streets and skin it for a night or two of meat, and that just wasn't something she was willing to risk. Sure, there was a chance they could also sell her. From what she'd heard it was a hefty price for cat's such as herself. A few thousand dollars to be exact.

She must not have been focusing enough, for a pair of grubby hand materialized from nowhere, and claws whipped across the pale flesh of the creature's palms. The hands retreated, and so did she. Her feet led her faster than she'd previously traveled.

Quite normally, she'd eat as a homo sapien, but lately she'd been saving all the cash she could, hoping to perhaps find a cheap place somewhere less scary.

-sigh- that was the dream, finding somewhere non-scary in the Capitiol, it was about as likely as finding a unicorn and winning a million dollars in the same day. Well, she hoped to find someplace you didn't have to mentally skim over a person's outward appearance, trying to decipher if they were a murderer or not.

Her attention was pulled down another alley the aroma of fish and pasta pulling her feet before she could even think about it. Bodice disapeared into the shadows, slim legs giving a slight spring in her step, long tail waving behind her. She was lost in the liquid shadow, intent on the meal before her nose.

[Coby]

The slums. This was a fun place to be. There was nothing more depressing than the slums. A gigantic gate separated the "haves" from the "haves not" here. There was even a fence that roamed the perimeter of the two halves of the city. It was disgusting. It was a horrific breech on human rights... but, no one cared. That, or people were too afraid to do anything. On both sides of the fence. The haves are afraid of the slums, because where there is poverty and destitute there is crime and sin. Besides, they had all they needed on their little oasis of perfectness. They had food, money, clothing and protection. Why bother with those who can't bother to have money? On the other hand, the people in the slums fear those on the other side. They believe, rightfully, that those people are keeping them there on purpose. Therefore, it is best not to look like one of the "haves" when entering the slum.

A slender woman with dark, deep red hair ducked through the alleys of the slums, her ears trained for danger. She could feel the eyes of the people watching her. It was unnerving, and a bit upsetting. She wanted to help them all... but not all of them could be helped. Many were so desperate they would expose her and her clan tot he Capitol, if it meant that their lives would improve the slightest of bits. She knew this. And, sadly, because of it she could never help all of them. She trudged through the slums and past stores. Many people tried to sell her some stolen bauble, some food, even some children. She politely declined a kept moving. She needed to get back to the harbor, and she wasn't even halfway. The council would probably have her head for it.

Wait, she thought, what are they going to do? Ground me? She chuckled softly. They couldn't do much of anything. They were mostly just advisers, not her keepers. Though, she thought again as she picked her way around some street sleepers and trash, she would have some people to answer to if she didn't get back soon enough. Her friends would be royally pissed off.
A pained wail snapped her from her thoughts and she froze, glancing about for any kind of disruption. No one else seemed disturbed. It was probably just a diseased child or something. Shasta shivered. It could be anything.

She decided, as she walked, that the best way to get through was a shortcut. She ducked into an alley from the main road. It would take her to the harbor three quarters of an hour. But, she slowed, seeing the last of a disappearing shape. It was a feline... but, it wasn't the shape that stopped her. It was the light. She followed it curiously, deviating and completely forgetting her previous plan.
"Hey there, kitty..." she cooed. Shasta always had a soft spot for animals. She pulled out a bit of jerky and crouched low, holding it out to the animal. She stayed as still as possible. "Want some jerky?"

[| Decima |]

She hadn't been paying attention, too preoccupied with figureing out how she was going to get under the tight lipped lid without notice, or too much noise.

The sound of rustling was enough to gather her attention, and ear would twist delicately before head twisted to stare, wide eyed at the women crouching feet from her. Sienna flecked light brown/gold eyes blinked slowly, as she stared at the women. Denny had gotten careless, so careless another of her kind had seen her. She cursed herself mentally.

Mind returned to the situation at hand, and legs left her plummeting toward the ground. It stung her pads, but she was used enough to it now that it didn't really bother her. The cat edged away from the woman ever so slightly.

You could never be sure when you came into contact with people of her kind, though mostly it was the humans finding out what you were that made gifteds worry. However, gifted captured others of clans, sometimes prisoners of war. Dennison however, could not think of what she would be needed for.

There was that one time when the woman had caught her, but she had been sufficiantly silenced, and besides she had a reptuation for being a drunk and who would really beleive her story.

Her mouth watered, as eye drifted to the jerky, but she kept her feet in place. Well, if she just took one bite she couldn't be captured could she? Edging forward she aimed to move as quick as possible, teeth attempting to shear the jerky in half. Her form would then flash behind the cans, peeking out after a moment or two. She wasn't taking any precautions, but maan. That jerky was good.

[Coby]

Shasta smiled warmly. The shifter-cat had come and taken some of the treat, but only some. She felt sad that the shifter had to sift through trash to eat. No-- it made her mad. Her eyes clouded over for a split moment. How could the Capitol let their people live like this? Even normal people have to do it, and they were supposed to be superior. She brushed a strand of hair from her face absently, and shifted on the balls of her heel and toes, resting her knees in the sludge and the dirt. It didn't matter how dirty her clothes got. They were just possessions to her. Shasta took a glance behind her, making sure no one was sneaking up behind her. Not that she wouldn't know, she was trained to sense these things. However, some people were as good as she was. Some.

Shasta held out the piece of jerky in her hands, trying to look as nonthreatening as possible. The wrong move, and she knew the shifter would bolt. It was a risk. She didn't know why she was so interested in the shifter. Perhaps, and most likely, she wanted to see if the person was interested in joining her. But, she would have to play it cool. She needed the persons trust first.

Her motives were purely for help, of course. She didn't want recruits for war, nor labor, nor status or force. She only wanted to help the shifter. But she had to keep in mind that, perhaps he (or she) did not want or need help. Well, chances were that it was more not wanting it than needing it. There was also the danger that the shifter was a Cynic. They and Haven haven't always had the best of relationships. They aren't pure evil, but they don't want to help the situation, only keep it to their liking, so they benefit and none else. So, her on their territory would cause a bit of a problem. And they hardly ever traveled alone. She was powerful, but no one was that powerful. She just had to be careful.

"Come on," she encouraged the cat stretching the jerky toward it, "You can have it. Really, I've got more. Take it." She said again, her deep green eyes sparkling in the light. Who was this person? Were they dangerous? Were they hurt? Were they ill? She didn't know. It could kill her. Or, it wouldn't. She took a shot in the dark, and put her life on the line for a moment. It was careless, but, then again, did she care?
"I know you see me, " she said vaguely, alluding to her shifter/gifted aura, "I wont hurt you."

[| Decima |]

Ooh. Risky.

Dennison knew little of the lives of the Cynics or Haven, though she did know you just don't go around blurting your secret to any random gifted. They could be from the other side. Of course, she knew that she wasn't an enemy to this woman, unless of course her goal was to take her or somthing of the sort. So, she figured since the lady was taking such a risk, she should as well. If she died she died. Perhaps death was better than miserable existence.

Limbs led her from her hiding place, and situated her in front of the woman. She blinked, twice though continued to just sit. Ears had pushed themselves to rest atop her head, and she let out a slight noise. Ah. The horror of trying to traslate cat. Tail brushed against the alley's edge as it twitched, before she leaned forward to gather the rest of the treat the woman had offered her. There was no dashing back to hide, no fear. Well, there was fear, and also a bit of adrenaline.

So. Now they were both taking risks. The golden aura was easy to spot, and no doubt she herself had one to match. Neither knew if the other posed a threat, or if in fact they were merely the bait in the other's devious plannings.

The young girl was at a loss at this moment, as she finished off the treats and swiped a pink tounge across her muzzle, because she could neither speak nor shift. However, the other might present some sort of plan. If she had one.

Dennison was really not quite sure what she was doing at the moment, body seemed to be controlled by someone else, perhaps it was the fact that the woman was taking a gigantic risk, just to earn the trust of her, a random shifter-cat, that had her dazed. Or perhaps it was the fact that she was actually placing a smidgen of trust upon the woman.

Well, I guess stranger things have happened.

[Coby]

Shasta let go of the jerky as the shifter cat finished it off and placed her slender hands on her knees. Off in the distance were the solemn sounds of the city, the slums. Sounds that she didn't get in Haven, and if she did, there was a big problem. They were sounds of theft, of crime, of murder... she couldn't seem to shake the feeling of nervousness as she gazed down at the cat, who ate the jerky. It sent a cold chill down her spine, that she told herself not to pay attention to. She was a strong, powerful woman who needn't to worry because she could handle anything that those criminals and thieves and murderers could throw at her. Hell, she WAS one, once. She knew how they rolled.

She focused her attention back to the shifter. She didn't run back into the shadows. That was good. That meant Shasta was at least getting some trust. She brushed her hair behind her ears once again, with a gentle movement of her steady hands. Her deep green eyes following the cat carefully. She was wanting her trust but that didn't mean she would allow herself to be bamboozled by some strange gifted person, no way. She was smarter than that. And she was quick.

However, her observations did not allow any such suspicions. It seemed to Shasta that this gifted was just trying to get by. Like many, many people. She smiled slightly. It seemed as if the person had understood what she said. The shifters aura was gold, like hers. And, like hers, had the slightest tint of dark orange on the fringes. It was a pretty sight. The mental's were tinged in blue, and vampires... well, only LIVING things had aura's. She was NOT a vampire, Thank God! she thought. Strange Vampires were like strange dogs. Don't get too close.

"So," Shasta asked casually, as if nothing happened that was out of the ordinary, "How did you like the jerky? Not my favorite, I find it a bit too spicy to my liking. Mind you, I like mine like shoe leather so I wouldn't take my advice if I were you... on food, anyway" she gave a small wink. Shasta was just pissing time away. She actually had no idea how to address the shifter.
Crap. She thought.

OOC: (so... she shifted then?)

[| Decima |]

The transformation from fur to skin always left her a bit rankled. Perhaps it was because of the size differance, perhaps it was because of the fact that the little cat had a completely different body structure than the still little teen. She would blink once, looking over the woman, who still most likely towered over her, before cracking her neck and fingers as she always did after returning. They always felt awkward. Flaming hair would be smoothed rather subconciously, because no doubt it was sticking up in some direction. She wished for the presense of her scarf to hide behind, but it was sitting on her creaky chair next to the door, forgotten in her hunger.

"I like spicy." she stated quietly, before a scream shattered the area. No doubt from the other side of the gate, the side that they were dangerously close to. She winced, despite having been living there since she was twelve. It was just somthing she doubted she could ever get used to. "but really anything it better than day old things that people take for granted" she glanced back at the cans, most likely filled with all the waste of the resturant.

Turning her gaze back to the woman, whom hadn't given her name, and flicking behind her to the opening of the alley in one movment. Here of all places you could never be too cautious "Dennison" She would stick out a pale hand, only slightly smudged with the excesssive volume of dirt and grime littering either side of the gate. She grinned "House Cat".