may the odds be ever in your favor- mid-july

[freelife]

Most news reaches Evie's ears at a rapid pace- she has her sources, from years and years of working in London and around the world, allies from the unlikeliest of places, and her ears to the ground. So naturally, it doesn't take long for her to hear that a very enterprising young man (vampire) has been using his own sources to locate and capture wolves and shifters alike. Instead of skinning them and sending them to Raymond, however, as would be significantly less-messy, he's been doing the unthinkable: forcing them to fight to the death.

The loser, as imaginable, is skinned and sent to Raymond. The winner lives to fight another day, until they are no longer able to fight, and then the result is the same: skinned and sent to Raymond. There's no winning, except for the spectators, those who choose to bet on the outcome of these literal cage matches.

It's enough to set Evie's blood boiling- these are innocent people, forced to fight against one another. Regardless of race, it's wrong. Nothing she wants to see, to deal with. So when the news reaches her ear, she's off, gathering as much information as quickly as she can. And tonight just happens to be the night. The night of another match, and the night she's going to strike.

It's early, before the fight is set to begin, when she makes her way into the warehouse where this thing is supposed to take place. Using her finest stealth, she's able to find the first cage where a man, around the age she had been when she had been turned, perhaps older is.

She can recognize him. She's seen him around, heard his name. Daryl Dixon. How long he's been fighting, she can't say. All she can say is that she will get him out. Him, his opponent, and anyone else waiting in the wings. And on top of that? The man who organized all of this.

But first things first.

Evie leans down towards the man in the cage, her hood pulled low. "Hullo- I'm here to rescue you." Perhaps not the greatest opening line, but it's worked in the past.

Comments

[dirtyredneck]

The last couple days had been a bit of a blur. All anger and fear mixing in with a need to fight, to hunt, to kill. It was a mix of sensations that even as the cat he'd never felt so intensely before. Never so sharply. The lack of proper food, the occasional bowl of water and slab of meat they tossed him didn't help on anything.

Hell, he didn't even know if it'd been two days or a five. It was just bad. He had already 'won' three fights. Two werewolves and another shifter he hadn't known the names of. Just been tossed into the cage with after being brought to an instinctual frenzy by the lack of food, poking and prodding to make him angrier, and that overwhelming need to hunt that confused his senses.

Moments of lucidity were few and far between. And when one of the people - not people, monsters like them didn't count as people no more - leaned in close to get a look at him, he bared his teeth - his completely human teeth - in warning. Cage or no cage, if he got a chance to rip one of their throats out, he would.

The words were either a lie or a hallucination.