Food for a Stray [Lovino]

[Lovino Vargas]

He's the meanest little kitty...

Tasting iron on his fangs made Lovino give it all a hesitant, careful lick with his rough tongue, trying to cleanse himself of the terrible taste. He couldn't believe he just bit a stronger being, one that could easily grab him and throw him across the room if needed. Gulping the saliva mixed with the red haired's blood, Lovino finally quieted down once he noticed the other wasn't moving to grab him. To hurt him. To tell him who's stronger and was in turn, in control of everything.

Instead, he was met with the 'stronger' mutant scooting himself away from him, backing up into the corner of their small shared cell. This calmed him, knowing that the other wasn't going to jump on top of him right away and beat him to a pulp. He found himself taking deep breaths in between his short, panicked pants, his heartbeat slowing as well to a more healthy rhythmic pumps instead of drumming hard and fast. He could smell the blood's scent coming from the other mutant, followed by hearing the soft growling of the stomach... Lovino didn't know how to feel.

He shifted his gaze away awkwardly and gave a soft whimper. Mama used to tell him to apologize when he did something wrong, and that once he did so, everything will be better both for himself and whoever he caused problems for. To reinforce the behavior, he would get in trouble for something small and as soon as he apologized, he remembered how mama turned the gears around and was suddenly much calmer and nicer about the situation. As a child, it was easy to quickly say he was sorry and get over the problem, but as years passed, that just became harder to do.

Apologizing for his mistakes in Weeds still earned him yelling from the caregivers and other students that didn't teach of apology as the magic word that solved everything like mama used to. That in itself confused the young mind back then. Apologizing for bad performances in school didn't get him out of the situation of always being frowned upon and compared against his much talented brother. Apologizing also never got him out of punishments with his owners or stopped guards from throwing him into the arena for fun or punishment.

At this point, the word 'sorry' was used as a reflex more than anything. A quick way his mind tried to get him away from the situation that would cause him harm. So once he knew that no harm was going to come to him upon biting the other mutant's lips, there was, in Lovino's mind, no reason to utter that very word once he had calmed down.

However, that also didn't mean he felt a tang of guilt when that pitiful noise rang through his sensitive ears. He gave one glance to the empty plates he finished the food off of, and gave a small frown towards the other.

"...I'll... Pay back. I'll give you my food... I'll give it all until I make up what you gave me. Will that work...?"

Word Count: 517

Tags: Hamish A. Stuart

Notes: I... Spat that out. I'm so sorry orz

template made by MISSO for use only by PUCHI

[Hamish A. Stuart]

Pain was felt through Hamish’s lip as the teeth pierced through the plump flesh causing blood to flow from the holes the teeth created. There wasn’t the same pleasure behind the pain as it began to sting. There was a hint of pleasure behind the attack as the pain gave him a thrill but still the feeling of hurt from being lashed out took over more than any enjoyment he could have had. Touching his thing fingers to his lips Hamish saw the thick liquid against his white skin and knew that warmth he felt was from his own blood. Holding his fingers to his lips he slowly began to lick the red droplets away not seeming to even care about the taste of iron. Pressing his fingers to his lip again he seemed to sigh that the flesh was beginning to swell and continued to let blood flow forth.

Curling up on himself Hamish continued to care for his lip but each time he messed with the abused flesh the blood would begin to trickle down his chin again. At his stomach getting out a loud growl Hamish hissed and hit him stomach in effort to silence the sounds his body was trying to make. When did he get so hungry? His stomach usually didn’t cry out for food but yet he couldn’t remember that last time he allowed himself to eat an entire meal.

Thinking back Hamish remembered when he tried to make friends with the other mutants during his youth, it wasn’t the first time someone bit him showing they rejected his efforts. Despite being the one with blood caked on his face usually the teachers and other caregivers would still scold him saying he had to be the one at fault, the other mutants were nothing but angels compared to him. There were a few cases that he found himself beaten by another and when he summoned his shadows to protect him the caregivers would sheik as if he had done something wrong. The constant light stopped him from being able to summon his powers to protect himself from being bitten for kissing the other. Why did some mutants react so negatively to his kind acts? Kylan was possibly the only mutant that accepted his acts even if he didn’t return them, maybe he should have started slower with Lovino.

Once more Hamish pressed his lip causing the dried blood to fall away making the wound show and begin to bleed. Using his sleeve Hamish began to apply pressure to the holes trying to get them to stop causing blood to gush out and onto his chin. Waiting only a few minutes Hamish pulled his sleeve away to see a large amount of blood coating the once clean fabric, not that it mattered it was already covered in stains.
Moving to his feet Hamish went to the small sink in the cell and allowed the water to warm for a few moment. Using the small amount of soap given he mixed it with the water scrubbing at his lip in hopes of cleansing the wound to prevent infection.

“Na, dinna fash yirsel aboot that. Ah'ament even hungert 'n' tis mah ain fault fur trying tae force ye tae be mah mukker.” Hamish sat back against the wall keeping his eyes cast on the ground instead of playing attention to the small feline mutant that spoke to him. What would it matter if the mutant gave him food? The Scot didn’t need to eat the food given so it was better for Lovino to eat them instead of growing sick at the lack of nutrition.

dark as the shadows in which you dwell

by worldie for dee

word count: 608
tags: Lovino Vargas
notes: finally got this done woo

[Lovino Vargas]

He's the meanest little kitty...

The taste of iron was beginning to fade for Lovino, but still he felt as if he could taste it on his tongue. Half curiously he glanced over to try to figure out what caused such weird status of so, and had to hold back an annoyed hiss when he saw that the Scottish mutant was constantly bleeding from the bite punctures. And everytime the wound begins to clog up to heal, the mutant would lick and destroy the dried blood to have more trail a line down his chin. The smell of the fresh blood kept the taste fresh on Lovino's tongue, and for a new reason now, he almost regretted biting his cellmate. This time not from fear, or guilt, but annoyance. With a short sigh, the feline mutant's ears picked up on the growling noise once more and shifted his tail to relax on the floor. 

"Really, now? You're drinking your own blood like it's a food source and shit..." He muttered when the mutant declined the offer he made regarding the food, and rolled his eyes. Relaxing himself at his own little claimed corner, Lovino watched in silence for a bit before closing his eyes slowly, his ears too giving a relaxed flick. Well, if not food, he could try to offer something else. Perhaps company? He surely knew it himself that he was a horrible one, but better one than none?

"Hey..." Lovino started awkwardly,"Do you win all your fights?"

What an awful topic... Lovino silently cursed at himself, having possibly brought up something the redhead didn't want to discuss. There wasn't much else to talk about, though. Sure, when Lovino was contracted out, he observed humans discuss about families, money, TV shows, books, music, food, trips, holidays, hobbies... The list went on and on, but neither of them really had any of the sort to speak of, or just didn't want to. Lovino often listened in on the conversations while he cooked whatever was ordered to for his master and guests, imagining the life he knew he could never have. He would dream, then almost cry at night, having fallen in love with the idea, a flower he knew he would never be able to reach. HE would tell himself to never listen in on such conversation ever again, feeling like a fool for even dreaming of one, and yet would repeat the same error again and again. 

For one that have been contracted out over and over again, perhaps the conversation of the outside world may have carried on without a problem. However, over the years, Lovino learned that not everyone was lucky. Not every mutant got several contracts, some even got none in their entire lives in the cells... It was too risky to discus of the outside world with such mutants, Lovino learned, after getting beaten up in a cell for 'showing off'. Never again, he thought.

"Is this your specialized cell? Do you ever get moved, you know, to different ones...?"

Word Count: 502

Tags: Hamish A. Stuart

Notes: --

template made by MISSO for use only by PUCHI

[Hamish A. Stuart]

Each swipe of his tongue over his lips brought back a small sting but yet he didn’t seem able to keep the muscle from running over the puncture, tasting the blood and causing the bleeding to begin anew. He wouldn’t say the taste was pleasant and yet it also wasn’t completely unpleasant. Sometimes the taste reminded him of battle but there were times he tasted blood when twisted with another. Biting into someone’s neck was a usual way he could show others that he had made a claim there even if he only saw it as something making a new friend, many probably thought it was how he showed his current lover off. Either way Hamish didn’t care what the other mutants when it came to the marks as long as it was understood they were not to touch if they weren’t prepared to fight Hamish if any damage or upset was brought to those he cared for.

Glancing over as his tongue once more took a bit of the blood into his mouth. “Tis nae fairn. Dae ye think a'm a vampire or something noo?” One of the thick brows lifted slightly as he looked over at the other curious if they found a new reason to shake when he looked in their direction.

Fighting wasn’t always the most pleasant topic but Hamish didn’t seem to ever mind talking about it as it long ago had grown to be almost boring. It was rare that he didn’t find someone wanting to know something about his fights if they never faced him or simply grew curious if there was anyone that managed to take down the wild shadows he always summoned the moment he entered the arena. None of this were things Hamish could blame someone for. It was rare that he came back with a single mark on his blood that wasn’t his blood from his opponent that didn’t give in when he commanded it. Shrugging a bit Hamish didn’t keep his green eyes on the other as he spoke, “Na, tis rare that ah lose bit it happens.” His stomach growled before he spoke again, “Forordinar happens whin ah gang tae lang wi'oot eating. Hard tae rammy whin ye cannae focus.” It was difficult to say that Hamish would never lose if he kept himself healthy but most would assume that someone would have to be born a monster, the boogieman himself, to be able to take Hamish out when he had been fed and cared for before entering the arena.
Losing a few times did help the underground when it came to making a profit off of the battles when the ginger fell to another or simply quit the fight not being his usual self. The crowd always would riot when this happened but once the winning would begin again all would seem to forget that the fearsome mutant ever was taken down. Those who were smart always made sure Hamish found the mutant who defeated him not long after to cause people to bid against him knowing Hamish would bring the strong mutant down in his better state. “If ah always won it wid git boring fur th' crowd anyway. Thay lik' tae see a struggle.” Human were twisted.

Mentioning what happened in the arena wouldn’t be counted as pleasant for Hamish but there were few things mutants could ask him about. Lovino had seen the outside world countless times giving him knowledge of many different things of the human world. Hamish wasn’t like Lovino at all, never before had he been purchased and removed from the underground so his knowledge was brought on by what he overheard, read, and what the others shared with him. He wasn’t much entertainment when it came to these talks as all he could do was listen or question parts of the tale as he never experienced anything similar. Knowing about the outside world was interesting but in the end none of the knowledge would ever do Hamish any good. It was as though he were being taught how to change a tire in a world with hover cars.

Resting his head against the bars the harsh green eyes closed making it appear that he had fallen asleep but his breathing had yet to slow. There was a long pause almost seeming as if he didn’t wish to answer the feline but after long enough he grumbled out a reply, “Thay dinnae shift me often. Whin thay dae tis tae hide me fae potential buyers, punish me, or huv a go forcing me tae eat sae thay kin continue tae throw me intae th' arena.” Yawning and curling more into himself Hamish gave the knowledge he figured Lovino was wanting. “Mutants ur brought tae me.”

dark as the shadows in which you dwell

by worldie for dee

word count: 795
tags: Lovino Vargas
notes: this thread probably is ending soon

[Lovino Vargas]

He's the meanest little kitty...

Once again, Lovino was having difficulty picking up on the individual words spoken by his cellmate. He perked the signature ears up to hopefully focus and understand, but the phrases spoken to him were not registering into him as actual words to be understood. He sighed, deciding to not try and push it again, instead just moving himself to the bed as the man continued to speak. For some reason, not focusing so hard on the man’s words helped him somewhat pick up on what he was saying, and he responded back after a short sigh.

“…It must be nice to at least be on the winning side at times, though.” He muttered, rolling his eyes. Hamish seemed to not understand how jealous a bait would get at the simple idea of simply winning a fight once in a while. If one like him wanted to win, he had the chance to. Unlike himself and he was sure of so many other baits, who could do nothing but just sit and take the abuse that rained upon them every time they entered the battlefield. When told humans liked the struggle, the feline mutant grinned sarcastically.

“Of course they do,” he mused, a small growl mixing in with his words as he let it slip out his mouth, “they also like easy bets. The more the weaker ones struggle in pain, the more they cheer on. I don’t see what could be so… Entertaining to see mutants fight one another, but they seem to like it. You must be a fan favorite.”

It was an easy assumption, one that Lovino was quite certain wasn’t too far off. As he curled himself up on the bed, hugging his legs and resting his chin on his knees, he listened as the ginger haired mutant rested his head against the bars, hearing the chicken wire make a small noise as pressure was put upon it. Lovino always told himself to one day escape this hell hole by squeezing himself through in between the bars itself, but the guards seemed to just never forget to put up the chicken wire as well. Hallelujah, they were at least not making any dumb mistakes on that part.

The younger male turned his attention back to Hamish when he began speaking after a short pause, as if he really debated on answering at first. And once he heard it, Lovino was certain it had something to do with the brightly lit cell itself, which made it hard for even the feline mutant to get a catnap. “…Well, at least you own your personal space, then.” He muttered, sighing and finally laying on the bottom bunk of the bed, trying to use any shadow he could get from this brightly lit room. He yawned, the ears on his head flattening at the action and tail wrapping around his already curled form. He tried to block the light by pulling the poor excuse of a blanket over his head, sighing deeply when that gave him some limited help. “How you can get any sleep in this place is beyond me…”

Word Count: 520

Tags: Hamish A. Stuart

Notes: This is nearly a year late omg. You can either discard it or end it with your next post I'm so sorry this took forever ;///;

template made by MISSO for use only by PUCHI