「 AT THE RIBS OF THE HURRICANE • catharos’s gamemakers 」 catharos, 15, d12, he/him . . . . . ◟੭ waiting room, ??? catharos’s experience at the parade was terrible. he truly doubted that the gamemakers would be any better, but part of him wanted to see how this would play out. the gamemakers were apparently a display of skill. he just had to do something cool. like 50 backflips in a row or something and then it would all be over. he doubted it would be as simple as 50 backflips, though. there was definitely a catch, but he was too lazy to try and figure it out. maybe he should have read one of those ‘the hunger game guides’ from the library, but he didn’t know how to read, so that was out of question... …unless he grabbed that one pathetic feline and forced him to read the guide out loud for him. after all, he still had to pay back for mocking catharos in front of his face on that day. whatever, that wasn’t important. he just mostly practiced as much as he could to get his mind off that terrible parade. he used all kind of weapons against training dummies and holograms. swords, morningstars, machetes, spears, pickaxes, just whatever he could get his paws on in the training center. he even practiced backflipping in case it came to that! which it probably wouldn’t, but he did it anyways. catharos had been in the waiting room for a while when the loudspeaker’s call rang across the room for what was the last time. he knew who’s name was going to be called. “catharos, district 12.” only a few heads turned to him once more as he got up. they all probably had more than enough of their own struggles to react to this. why did he care. he didn’t need validation from these people when they were all going to die a sad and probably painful death in the arena soon. . . . . . ◟੭ gamemakers room, ??? the first thing catharos saw when he stepped into the room was a section for weapons, like the one in the training center. he expected that much honestly, if he didn’t he wouldn’t have trained so hard at the weapons area. but the second thing he saw… was a plastic bag. that’s it. just a plastic bag. “what on earth am i supposed to do with this?!” his words mainly meant for himself, but they were loud and could be easily heard by wherever the gamemakers were and he didn’t care. in fact, he wanted them to hear it. who cared about them? if he was stuck in this stupid gutter, the least they could let him do was keep his freedom of speech. right when catharos was getting ready to toss the bag across the room in a fit of rage, he took a deep breath and cooled down. okay… he was observant and clever. that’s how he got so far in life despite being all alone for most of it, which meant he had to look around this gigantic room for clues if he wanted this to go smoothly. he looked up and quickly noticed the gamemakers’ stupid faces behind that stupid glass panel. obviously. this was the gamemakers’ lair, so of course they had to be here. he quickly looked away. he didn’t want to see their smug, snobbish faces. there was some kind of tunnel things in the walls with strong gusts of air blowing out of it. okay… noted. but then the floors suddenly began doing the same thing, and he had to dig his claws into it in order to not fall over. catharos was caught off guard by the way the plastic bag suddenly started flying away. “what the heck?! get back here!” he shouted, jumping upwards and narrowly missing the plastic bag. catharos had no clue what he was supposed to do, but he guessed he needed that bag to progress, which was now gone with the wind. he was off to a great start, wasn’t he? no, this was absolutely ridiculous. he already hated it here. all of his attempts after to catch it in the air with his own paws proved to be unsuccessfully so he just begrudgingly sat down. he didn’t have the patience for this. what could he do to get it back? no backflips would help him get closer to that stupid fluttering plastic bag, “darn it. what am i even supposed to do here, watch that piece of trash fly?” well there were weapons… maybe he can use some kind of tall spear to catch it. he ran over to where the weapon were supplied. he was certain he once saw a lance somewhere, and last time he checked, lances were really tall. if he could pin the bag down.. catharos found the lance and ran over to the center of the room where the bag was still being blown by the wind. then, he thrusted the lance into the air, successfully catching the bag. it fluttered limply against the lance’s point, but he pinned it to the ground in a way where he was sure it wouldn’t go flying free-style again. okay, now what did he have to do? he expected to be given some kind of reward for getting this far even with all the setbacks, but there was absolutely nothing. the winds grew stronger and the plastic bag was beginning to slip out from under the lance’s point. “ugh, stay there, will you?!” [ cont in n+c ]
[ cont, read instructions first! if you’re a mod please don’t start reading here or you’ll miss relevant information ] it was stupid to try and reason with an inanimate object. especially one considered trash. it finally freed itself and flew away, but catharos was quicker and pinned it to the floor with his lance again. “this is getting ridiculous. wait here, you junk of plastic.” it was getting increasingly more difficult to stay on the ground and move under these blasts of air, but catharos grit his teeth and tried to ignore it as he quickly left the bag behind and made his way to the weapons stash. he settled on two sickles and raced back to where the bag was pinned and added them to his defense. the plastic bag was extremely torn by both the lance and now the sickles pinning it, but if it stayed on the ground then all the better. he would for sure impress the gamemakers. impress the gamemakers… catharos stared at the plastic bag. then the gamemakers in their safe panels. then he scowled and let out an audible groan. how could he? he couldn’t believe this. he was disgusted in himself by the lengths he was going to impress the capitol of all people. he did that at the parades too. this was disgusting. he was disgusting for this. he couldn’t explain what he was thinking when crouched down and removed the weapons that pinned down the plastic bag. first the sickles, then the lance, and then he picked the plastic bag up with his own claws and shredded it himself. it’s remains scattered throughout the room’s winds. but the wind didn’t matter to him anymore. he felt weightless. he turned to the gamemakers, his gaze defiant and contemptuous. he reveled in the silent but raw shock on their faces. “how do you like that, you rich snobs?” catharos pressed, his tone filled with rage. he wanted to hear them say something, but they didn’t. they just watched. and before they knew what hit them, catharos had sent one of the sickles flying towards the glass panel where the gamemakers were situated behind. crack! the previously polished glass had a large fracture, and he knew enough about glass to know it was only one hit away from completely shattering. the sickle had hit the ground, but he didn’t need it anymore. someone finally screamed in shock but he could hardly hear it under the blood roaring in his ears. catharos quickly picked up the other sickle and shot it at the glass panel, causing it to finally collapse. glass shards flew everywhere, leaving a massive hole in its wake and giving him the perfect opening. one weapon left, one lance, so he needed to make it count. he aimed it through the window’s hole. standing past the gamemaker eating a shrimp was one with some posh wings of sort, and catharos immediately knew that would be his target. catharos had seen wings like those before in the magazines. popular with celebrities, or something, but he always wondered if they were able to fly. if they were, they certainly wouldn’t be able to now for this gamemaker. when the gamemaker saw the lance shooting straight towards them, they ducked out of the way, only for the lance to strike through their wing and pin them back to the wall. their loud shrieks of pain and shock sounded more like music to catharos. “did that fit your entertainment standards?” he asked in a faux innocent voice. no one responded. too busy freaking out. while every other gamemaker panicked and tried to help the injured one, there was one who stared down at him through the shattered glass, the fury in her gaze clearer than day. “get out of here!” she shouted, fur bristling out. catharos noticed that there was glass shards stuck in there, which was funny. he wondered how long it would take her to get them out. the winds were turned off, and he realized the shock from his little stunt probably distracted the gamemakers from setting it to its maximum strength. the door behind catharos clicked open. he’d probably face consequences for what he did, but it didn’t matter to him. not now. “good-bye you pathetic lot of people,” was all he said before he left. . . . . . ◟੭ waiting room, ??? a simple thunderstorm might turn into a hurricane under the right conditions. catharos didn’t realize he was shaking until he shut the door behind him. how great. he had a terrible outburst again, as if the first time this happened wasn’t terrible enough. he felt that same fatigue now as he did after hurting that cat at the parade. it could be because of those air blasting vents, but he knew it wasn’t that. it was odd. did he regret what he did or felt bad for those he hurt? absolutely not. he had no sympathy for any of these cats; they were the ones being cruel to him and every other tribute for literally no reason. but still… “ugh, i did it again,” catharos muttered to himself, walking as far as he could away from the door as if it would erase what how he felt about the session. he needed breathe. . . . . . ◟੭ end of srp
