As soon as she set foot inside the underground base, Feral Tigress felt her breath catch, and then quicken.
That SCENT! The scent that she smelled all around her childhood home, the scent that clung to the walls, floors, bedclothes, drapes, and especially to the bodies of her adoptive parents.
Gun oil.
Leather treatment.
Burnt propellant.
Cheap cologne.
And the faint scent of plastic and chemicals that fresh. un-broken-in kevlar has.
THEY were here. This was their home, their lair.
Her blood began to run hot, and the urge to rampage through the base grew inside her. Her three companions, Princess, Boston Beauty, and Callaigh Marie, looked at her in alarm.
"Tigress, what is wrong?"
"MRRRRRRRRRrrrrrwwwwlll....." She lashed her tail back and forth, and subconsciously dropped to a low, stalking pose. Her whiskers twitched and her eyes dilated. "THEY arrrrre herrre. Ferrrral smells them!"
"What's she talking about? She knows of the Council?"
Feral started. Council? Was that their name? Good. She liked to know the name of those she hunted. She took note of the huge eye symbol on the concrete bunker just ahead. The image was filed inside her head as one to look for. It didn't mean 'criminal' or 'pest' or any of the more commonly used concepts she used to categorize the bad guys she went up against.
It meant 'Prey'.
"She's all amped. Look at her. Feral, are you OK?"
Feral issued a long low growl, her response drawn out as she rolled her 'r's' more than usual. "Ferrrrral is fine. Ferrrral has found those who DEADED Mummy and Daddy!! So Ferrrrral gonna make them bleeed!"
"FERAL!" The sharp commanding tone let her know that she'd crossed a line. "You promised. No Killing! We hurt them enough to knock them senseless, and send to the Zig! Remember!!"
"No. This time... Ferrrral gonna do same to them as they do to Ferrrrrrral.. and Ferrrral's frrrrrriends!"
-ZAP!-
The corrective collar she wore hadn't had to be used in months. She'd forgotten it had that function. She remembered now, whimpering.
"FERAL! Stop. You WILL behave. Or I'll send you home."
Feral was in the middle of trying to think of a reply, when the Council patrol spotted them, and opened fire.
"Incoming!"
Ah. Her sisters were distracted. She reached up a claw, and popped the collar loose. Normally this was a Big Sin, to defy the authority of her team leader and friend. But... she HAD to do this. To set her parent's ghosts to rest, to avenge them... she HAD to.
"ROOOOOWWWR!!" She set upon the Council patrol like a ball of knives all bundled up in muscle and sinew. She could smell a new smell from them now... terror.
And as her claws sliced into them, hamstringing one, gutting another, slicing the throat of a third... she could smell the coppery scent of their blood, and she knew she would never be the same. Up until now, the scent of blood meant she'd been too rough. Now it meant that she was being what her ancestors were... a hunter. A predator. A killer.
She hunted them. She hunted them all.
--------------------------------
The ache returned. It was one she realized would never heal, unlike the ones she got from fighting.
Even though she'd mauled soldiers from one end of the base to the other, causing one of her companions to get violently sick at the sight of the Archon, sliced to ribbons and his blood pooling over the steel deckplates in his command center... it didn't bring her parents back.
She felt ashamed. They were... judging her. She'd broken promises, lost track of who she was trying to become... and the ghosts were not pleased.
'MROOOOOOWWL!!!'
------------------
(Backstory - Feral Tigress is a mutated white tiger, the result of a Council genetic experiment, attempting to add some human traits to white tigers to develop yet another hunter/killer race. The experiment was scrapped; she was the only survivor of a litter of five. She was reported as dead by the project director and his head nurse, who severed all ties with the Council and raised her as their own child. Years later she returned to her 'adoptive' home to find them both shot, and the house ransacked; apparently they'd not done enough to escape Council notice. She didn't know who had done the deed... but as you can tell from the story, she remembered the smells.)
"City of Heroes. April 27, 2004 - August 31, 2012. Obliterated not with a weapon of mass destruction, not by an all-powerful supervillain... but by a cold-hearted and cowardly corporate suck-up."
(caution - violent content)
As soon as she set foot inside the underground base, Feral Tigress felt her breath catch, and then quicken.
That SCENT! The scent that she smelled all around her childhood home, the scent that clung to the walls, floors, bedclothes, drapes, and especially to the bodies of her adoptive parents.
Gun oil.
Leather treatment.
Burnt propellant.
Cheap cologne.
And the faint scent of plastic and chemicals that fresh. un-broken-in kevlar has.
THEY were here. This was their home, their lair.
Her blood began to run hot, and the urge to rampage through the base grew inside her. Her three companions, Princess, Boston Beauty, and Callaigh Marie, looked at her in alarm.
"Tigress, what is wrong?"
"MRRRRRRRRRrrrrrwwwwlll....." She lashed her tail back and forth, and subconsciously dropped to a low, stalking pose. Her whiskers twitched and her eyes dilated. "THEY arrrrre herrre. Ferrrral smells them!"
"What's she talking about? She knows of the Council?"
Feral started. Council? Was that their name? Good. She liked to know the name of those she hunted. She took note of the huge eye symbol on the concrete bunker just ahead. The image was filed inside her head as one to look for. It didn't mean 'criminal' or 'pest' or any of the more commonly used concepts she used to categorize the bad guys she went up against.
It meant 'Prey'.
"She's all amped. Look at her. Feral, are you OK?"
Feral issued a long low growl, her response drawn out as she rolled her 'r's' more than usual. "Ferrrrral is fine. Ferrrral has found those who DEADED Mummy and Daddy!! So Ferrrrral gonna make them bleeed!"
"FERAL!" The sharp commanding tone let her know that she'd crossed a line. "You promised. No Killing! We hurt them enough to knock them senseless, and send to the Zig! Remember!!"
"No. This time... Ferrrral gonna do same to them as they do to Ferrrrrrral.. and Ferrrral's frrrrrriends!"
-ZAP!-
The corrective collar she wore hadn't had to be used in months. She'd forgotten it had that function. She remembered now, whimpering.
"FERAL! Stop. You WILL behave. Or I'll send you home."
Feral was in the middle of trying to think of a reply, when the Council patrol spotted them, and opened fire.
"Incoming!"
Ah. Her sisters were distracted. She reached up a claw, and popped the collar loose. Normally this was a Big Sin, to defy the authority of her team leader and friend. But... she HAD to do this. To set her parent's ghosts to rest, to avenge them... she HAD to.
"ROOOOOWWWR!!" She set upon the Council patrol like a ball of knives all bundled up in muscle and sinew. She could smell a new smell from them now... terror.
And as her claws sliced into them, hamstringing one, gutting another, slicing the throat of a third... she could smell the coppery scent of their blood, and she knew she would never be the same. Up until now, the scent of blood meant she'd been too rough. Now it meant that she was being what her ancestors were... a hunter. A predator. A killer.
She hunted them. She hunted them all.
--------------------------------
The ache returned. It was one she realized would never heal, unlike the ones she got from fighting.
Even though she'd mauled soldiers from one end of the base to the other, causing one of her companions to get violently sick at the sight of the Archon, sliced to ribbons and his blood pooling over the steel deckplates in his command center... it didn't bring her parents back.
She felt ashamed. They were... judging her. She'd broken promises, lost track of who she was trying to become... and the ghosts were not pleased.
'MROOOOOOWWL!!!'
------------------
(Backstory - Feral Tigress is a mutated white tiger, the result of a Council genetic experiment, attempting to add some human traits to white tigers to develop yet another hunter/killer race. The experiment was scrapped; she was the only survivor of a litter of five. She was reported as dead by the project director and his head nurse, who severed all ties with the Council and raised her as their own child. Years later she returned to her 'adoptive' home to find them both shot, and the house ransacked; apparently they'd not done enough to escape Council notice. She didn't know who had done the deed... but as you can tell from the story, she remembered the smells.)
"City of Heroes. April 27, 2004 - August 31, 2012. Obliterated not with a weapon of mass destruction, not by an all-powerful supervillain... but by a cold-hearted and cowardly corporate suck-up."