HAT: Yay! Another chapter!
Disclaimer: I own nothing, but the plot, Shadow and the others that I don't care to list.
With a sigh he nods. "Okay... I just want a nap..."
"You haven't eaten. I don't know if you've seen yourself, but you're skin and bones," Coricopat gently reminds.
With a grunt Skimble nods even though the thought of eating makes his stomach churn uneasily. He allows himself to be lead out and he's set on top of the pipe, one of his favorite places.
He nearly winces, but he tries to keep that in the back of his mind as he's set gently there. He feels as frail as Gus... unless that was fake too seeing as Old Deuteronomy didn't seem so old. He breathes deeply and the smell of prey makes his stomach growl, but he doesn't want it. The thought of eating isn't satisfying. In fact, despite the familiar, delicious smells, he feels he'll throw up at any minute. With a shaky breath he puts his head on his paws and wait quietly before he notices a red figure.
"Hello," he mutters, keen eyes having already spotted the mouse out of the corner of his eye, but he chooses to ignore it.
"I caught you some prey," she informs.
"I know," he replies, refusing to even look at the food.
With a sigh she sits beside him and nudges the mouse towards him with the back of her paw. "Come on. You'll die of starvation if you don't... eat, please," she begs.
After observing her face for a moment he sighs in defeat. Looks of worry were always a weak spot for him. He mentally growls at himself and looks at the mouse. He's hungry, but he doesn't think he can stomach even half of it. He forces himself to gulp down one-third of it before he can't stomach anymore and begs for her to take it back. She nods and backs off on forcing him to eat and instead, this time, forces him to drink water from a cup to which he wrinkles his nose.
"No," he says blatantly.
Her ears flatten in irritation. "You have to stay hydrated."
He takes two gulps before he realizes how thirsty he really is and gulps down the rest of the cup and despite how the water sloshes around uncomfortably, he wants more. His throat burns and needs to be soothed with the refreshing clear liquid. He sighs and looks at the setting sun with bitterness inside of him. He'd rather die believing these cats knew him then to be forced into this torture. The question as to why he had to be the one to endure this still nags at the back of his mind like a queen to her mate and kits. Macavity, as far as he knows, should have no reason to put him through such torture. It also makes him wonder if his Third Name is true as well.
It has to be, the marmalade tom thinks, knowing a cat could easily control another if their Third Name was revealed.
But what if he made you think it was another one so you couldn't regain your memory? Some part of him wonders.
He blinks and realizes that whatever small part of him pointed out could be true. He may never know what happened to him before he was captured if he doesn't learn his third name. He decides that this is what he'll do. He'll do whatever he can to learn his real Third Name and break whatever control the Napoleaon of Crime has on him. Besides, in his weak state, he might as well since he can't do anything. He can't hunt for himself, he can't walk by himself, so he's basically just a waste of space.
Dear Everlasting please tell me I can wash myself, he thinks as he licks his paws clean. Tentatively he moves to the rest of his body, and licks his paws and wipes at the parts his tongue can't reach, but that just leaves the shoulder blades.
"Here, let me," a new voice says.
He looks up at a black and brown young queen about his supposed age, just a decade or two younger than him- scratch that- a year or two younger than him, with dark brown eyes. "Um... sure."
He manages not to say her name, something that would've made her alarmed for sure. He allows her to wash his back and he nearly jumps out of his fur when he feels her tongue trail from the nape of his neck down to his shoulder blades. He doesn't like that. He doesn't know why and he can't remember a reason in his false memories, but he knows that he doesn't like that feeling at all and pulls away with a jerk of his upper body.
"I'm sorry," the queen murmurs. "Are you alright?"
He observes her and nods. "Y-yes... just... don't do that again, please," he begs, putting his head on his paws.
He's exhausted, he knows, but he wants to do more. It feels like he's done nothing at all mentally, but physically it feels like he's been working at the railway or three nights straight with only five hours of sleep to survive in that time.
Stop, he thinks, mentally shaking himself of the thought and briefly wonders how this queen's changed.
"I'm Electra."
"Hello. I'm Skimbleshanks," he introduces.
"Nice to meet you... Do you want something to eat?"
He shakes his head. "No. The lass with the red fur already had me eat. I can't possibly eat another bite," he groans, putting his head on his paws once again.
The pitiful gaze makes him uncomfortable and he refuses to look at her. "Come with me, there's someone that might be able to help you."
Mistoffelees might, he thinks upon hearing that. "Okay."
HAT: You get to read how things go with Mistoffelees in the next chapter when I feel ya'll've earned it.
Tumblebrutus: You're so mean to your readers.
HAT: I've been more than generous. I've given them many one-shots, given into a few demands, even added chapters before the reviews came in... It's time for them to work for the next chapter!
Tumblebrutus: *rolls eyes* Okay, then. What's the number?
HAT: Ten. Ten reviews before anyone gets anything out of me.
Tumblebrutus: Come on, you might not even have ten reviewers.
HAT: Then for lower, seven reviews, and nothing from the same person. *grins*
Tumblebrutus: So if you're reading this... you want to review otherwise you're not getting this chapter ever... trust me, she's stubborn and will discontinue the story if you don't.
HAT: Got that right. Now, let's go find the bacon black hole!
Tumblebrutus: *shrugs* Okay. *walks with her off stage*