His Mind is Up to No Good [O]

Asmodeus attempted to catch a mouse, he was [UNSUCCESSFUL] -5SP

The mouse slipped away into a hole just as Asmodeus realized it was there. Rotten luck really. For him, not the mouse. He sighed, continuing on his way through the abandoned town. There was a surprising lack of cat scent in this area. Why? It seemed so... perfect for cats that both preferred and didn't prefer living in a colony. It was a fact that made him immediately consider moving onto the next place. What fun was there to be had all by yourself? Once he caught himself something to snack on, he'd likely head out. Maybe he'd go annoy the clan cats nearby. Perhaps he could convince one or two to follow him back here. The evening air was pleasantly warm, heralding the approach of Spring. It was about time too. Despite having medium length fur, Asmodeus did not enjoy colder temperatures. He entered an abandoned building full of broken glass and rotting boards. This place looked like a stiff wind could knock it down... but the scent of mouse colonies was especially strong too. He'd make an attempt to wait for one... and if the building even so much as creaked funny, he'd bolt out of it.

The member 'Tara' has done the following action : Dice roll

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'Hunting Dice' : 9

Since he had pretty much nothing else to do, Flamethrower had taken to wandering further afield. The novelty of the territories had worn off for the moment, the familiarity of asphalt and clear-cut human walls forming a patchwork of ledges and cliffs calling to him.

It was almost like home. Except SkyClan's territory was just a couple fences over, and the psychopaths weren't the kind of cats you wanted to meet on your midnight wanders back in the direction of peaceful fields and occasionally running into that rogue group. Lucky thing he'd walked around their territory before they came back, poking at their camp and sneering at their legendary might, otherwise he'd probably stumble straight in and get eaten alive.

His tail swished idly as he padded through a dim alleyway that smelled faintly of rats and foul water. At least in this section there were no twolegs around to bother with -- the kind that would hang around these places were as likely to throw cans at a cat as pat them. On the other paw, there was nothing here. A soft huff left his maw, tough grey paw pads used to the roughness of the city's surfaces casually picking through the debris of a rotting nest spilling into the narrow passage, the dimness inside smelling of mice as he passed by.

For a brief moment he considered poking his nose in to see if there was really anything to hunt for an extra snack, an ear idly angling for the light sounds of scuffling. Instead, the scent of cat touched his tongue.

He came to a stop, the tip of his tail flicking. Cat? Singular? Just another wanderer around, or a scout for a colony? Only one scent he could catch, and it didn't have the mingled edge of someone who brushed pelts with fellow loners every other day. A twitch curved up the corner of his maw. He just kept running into new faces everywhere he went, didn't he?

Then again, he used to in the city, but that was the city. Every other day he was hissing off somebody, crossing into claims, or finding someone trespassing on his claims. This place was mostly dead, except for the territories.

Well, he wasn't going to knock. Casually wandering inside, he called out to the dim confines of the den, "Anybody home?"

Asmodeus's ear flicked toward the entrance and took in the bright red appearance of another tom. His eyes casually lingered there for a moment before he smirked and turned so that his shoulders lined up with the other lone cat's. Thank whatever gods there may be above that it wasn't another condemned colony cat. "There doesn't appear to me." He answered calmly. He also made it clear with that one statement that this wasn't his home either. "A fellow wanderer, I presume?" There was a glint his eyes, but a more playful one than dangerous. "It must be a real pain, navigating around all of these cat colonies that have taken up residence every twenty feet."

A mouse skittered out of hiding, falsely presuming that Asmodeus was distracted. His claw shot out to impale it.

Asmodeus attempted to catch a mouse, he was [SUCCESSFUL!] -5SP

Holding the struggling critter up on a raised paw while it's struggles grew weaker, his eyes never left the red tom. "There are plenty of these running around. Feel free to catch some. I have no claim to this place and from the smell of it... no one does." He popped the mouse into his mouth, and after a few particularly juicy crunches of his jaws, he swallowed it mostly whole. He'd learned to eat swiftly as a rogue, as a meal can be taken from you at any time. "I'm Asmodeus." He introduced himself after a flourish of his tongue across his lips and his fangs to clear them of blood. It part way succeeded, leaving a pink smear there instead of a dark crimson.

The member 'Tara' has done the following action : Dice roll

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'Hunting Dice' : 1

So, he'd wanted to run into another cat, maybe meet a new face; possibly expecting rogue number whatever trying to fang a mouse. Maybe a pretty she-cat, maybe an ugly scarred tom with a grouchy streak a highrise-length wide.

Psychopath? Not on the list.

Blue eyes flicked to the weakly struggling mouse and possibly lingered a little long on the blood staining the black and white tom's maw bright red on the light patches. With all the warning bells going off in the back of his mind, he almost genuinely considered throwing out his name and parting ways before he got his other ear shredded. For a brief moment. These were the cats like Kraken — the ones who smiled at you while a kit bled out at their paws and promised a safe place to stay, praising all those fine skills to smooth over the horror.

Eh, he'd survived Kraken. Besides, if this Asmode-y whoever wanted to be gruesome with his prey, was it really Flame's problem? If he started gutting newborn kittens and drinking their blood, then yeah alright, but the tom wasn't threatening him. Yet.

"Flamethrower." He padded inside with a flourish of his tail, tilting a casual ear in a lazy brow-raise at that solid half-amber, half-glinting yellow gaze. "Wandering around avoiding colonies is about all I do these days, Asmo."

A flicker of movement caught his eye from behind an old rotting wall with the guts stripped through a hole in its surface. "Might take you up on that — caught a rabbit earlier but it was all bones and no meat. Or blood. Looks like these little things are a different street," he said flippantly.

Actually, that little mouse seemed completely oblivious.... were they all blind and deaf here? Flicking his tail, he cut in over his shoulder, "'Scuse me a minute."

Maybe they weren't so deaf and blind after all. A squeak and an abrupt scuttle just as he pounced announced the loss of his snack, and no amount of running fast could follow it down its little hole. Horsing little— Puffing out a soft snort, he rolled his eyes and padded back to his new friend. "Turns out yours was just an idiot. So, As, how'd you end up here in this dump, anyway? Not much here except mice."

Flamethrower attempted to catch a mouse, he was UNSUCCESSFUL. -5SP

The member 'Chickenwing' has done the following action : Dice roll

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'Hunting Dice' : 7

Asmodeus watched the red tom with an amused sparkle in his eye and a mischievous smirk on his face. He'd already given him a nickname... Asmo. But quite a few cats did and it was something he could understand. His name tended to be a mouthful for those not used to- Oh. His name was Flamethrower. It didn't have quite as many syllables as Asmodeus, but it wasn't far off. He was about to say something when Flamethrower excused himself to go after a mouse.

He patiently waited, then chuckled ever so slightly at the miss. Ah well, it happened. "The idiots are the easiest to catch. Of course they die first." He agreed, not even so much as blinking at what may or may not have been an intentionally veiled insult. He wasn't about to try to help the other tom catch his meal, no, because that could be seen as an insult as well and Asmodeus had no intention of insulting his company just yet.

"I'm like you. I wander. I pick a direction and I go... at least until some cat colony's border stops me or a road too wide and dangerous to cross. I was a house pet for a time, but I found the life did not suit me. The roar of the traffic, the hustle and bustle of the night life, even the possibility of death and injury by stray dogs or psychopathic lone cats interested me far more then having the same routine, boring life of a well-loved pet. That's it. That's pretty much my story." It was enough anyway... and mostly honest.

"Your turn, Flame." His tone was playful, testing the nickname of the other tom on his tongue. He couldn't believe he'd actually shortened his own name further to As. They were either going to murder eachother before the day was done or they were about to be great friends. He was interested to see exactly where this relationship ended up.

"House pet, huh?" He licked at a paw, drawing it over his intact ear in lazy thoughtfulness, ignoring the possibility that the tom might have been talking about him with that line about catching idiots. It was just like old times, running into some stranger of a fellow loner, exchanging words in passing if things hadn't started with claws and fangs already. "Lucky you, usually they don't last a week outside the house."

Psychopathic loners, huh. Oh that was a fun one. He'd pretend he hadn't just been thinking that about Asmo himself — that or said mentioned psychopaths had rubbed off on the cat along his travels. "Well, you're right about it not being boring, anyway."

Most smart cats would've picked the safe, boring life. Guess that bit of stupidity connected them both. He flicked an ear, idly stretching his still slightly tender back leg and gesturing out at the world in general with his tail at the prompt. "I tried the housecat life once. Lasted about a week before I was climbing up the walls and the humans were going insane. Actually came from around here — it's not some big secret but I was part of one of the colonies chewing their own tails out there in the grass. Then one day — boom — got attacked by a dog and saved by a no-fur, ended up in the city, gained a few scars, and decided to wander back again after my...." His mouth twisted. Probably too much information, but maybe if this cat tended to wander around everywhere, he might've seen something "...my mate disappeared. Speaking of, haven't seen a patchy-coloured, kinda stripey, kinda not, blackish molly with a stumpy tail around in all that wandering, have you? Goes by the name of Mjolnir?"

It was a distant hope, but he might as well ask. Still couldn't really figure out why she'd up and vanished even after this pair of moons, just that last little flicker of silver taunting his memory. Maybe she was rotting at the bottom of some twoleg's bin after being hit by a car and peeled off the road, but... he didn't believe that. Not Mjol.

Asmodeus watched Flamethrower very intently as he told his story. Well well... this tom might actually have some information he could use. He was about to ask him about the cat colonies when he hesitated to speak further. That caught Asmodeus's attention more than anything. Then the red tom continued to speak and Asmodeus barely kept a smirk from spreading across his face. He pretended to think for a moment, looking upward as if trying to remember.

"I don't believe so. I do meet a lot of cats though and not all of them take kindly to... well cats like me. You understand. If I do happen to run into her though, I will tell her you're around and looking for her. Do you have anywhere specific you might be so I could send her in your direction?"

Of course, he had little if any intention of doing that. If he found her and knew she was looking for Flamethrower, he'd likely tell her her red mate was dead. She'd be emotionally hurt... and most open to the idea of new romance perhaps while she was still in pain. Maybe he'd kill her himself. Who knows? He wasn't one to plan too much in advance as plans tended to go astray anyway.

Yep, cats like him. Flamethrower flashed back to the casual gutting of the mouse. Had to wonder why no one took kindly to him if he ran around with blood on his fangs. No one would ever be put off by an attitude like a back-alley slinker.

The tom probably wouldn't have told him he'd met Mjol even if he'd been the one to slit her throat and leave her to bleed out, if she was dead. Especially not then. It'd been a distant hope, anyway, fuelled by finding someone else who'd probably travelled as far as he had during his life. Flicking his tail dismissively, he said, "No need. Just mention it when we run into each other again. She's probably loped off with some other tom if she didn't get run over by a car, but if you see her give her my love."