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Post by xx.sapphire on Dec 29, 2018 1:25:36 GMT -5
Was it against the law?
Likely.
Did she care?
Absolutely not.
Her patient whimpered in front of her, not fully anesthetized. For days now, Shiva had been working hard to try and create the correct combination of clove oil, catnip, chamomile, dandelion leaves, thyme, and poppy seeds to create the perfect potion for her experimentation. She wasn't quite a sadist, but the league blood that ran through her veins made her a little less interested in putting them in a pain-free daze and a little more focused on figuring out how she was going to cut a cat open, rearrange something, close, and then have them survive.
The surviving part of it was the most difficult, apparently. The first victim had proven that there was much more to operating than simply shutting them up while she did it. Soon after the pilot surgery, her patient had developed a high fever, and his wounds became quite infected. She had no choice but to put him out.
Perhaps the problem was the unnecessary procedure, but Shiva wasn't about to stop. Her specialty was developing, and she was enthralled at the prospect of pioneering in feline anatomy and physiology.
The cat's quiet cries subsided as the poppy seeds kicked in, her eyes falling halfway shut and glazing over. The dose was particularly tricky, too; Shiva had killed her second patient by overdosing him on poppy seeds. The Acecoop was trying something new this time. Beside her, she had prepared a thin poultice of oak leaves and chervil root for preventative measures of infection, and ground cloves for a possible topical analgesic. She intended to smear it over her patient's flank before cutting in. Aside from that, she had washed her paws in the nearby stream and coated her claws in marigold. She was nearly ready.
The Acecoop and her victim were stationed near the Haunted Brook, ensuring that no one would be likely to come across them. She practically shook with excitement. Today, she was just exploring, and then hoping the cat would survive. If Patient 6 did survive, it would mean that she had correctly calculated dosages all of these herbs. Shiva was finally doing what she had always been meant to do.
If there ever was a patient to consider for such a procedure, Citadel was probably on the shortlist. After all, it was imperative not to kill perfectly good soldiers, and the Monarchy had learned basically from day one that the Cyd was no more than a basketcase. The only reason she had been kept around this long was because she had friends in powerful places, which really meant mommy and daddy made sure that she was protected from the law, from repercussions of her actions, from the inevitable euthanasia that was perhaps the ultimate option for a feline like her. The only condition that her life of luxury depended on was weekly visits with Springlockedgrave. The Vrachii was a feline well versed in mental illnesses, which meant that she was the best hope that a poor soul like Citadel would ever have at a normal life. Not that she particularly wanted one. The crazy card was a get out of jail free card, and although she was, putting it nicely, off her rocker, she wasn't a stupid cat. She knew how to play the card well.
One of the ways she played it was by spending far too much time at the Haunted Brook than was perhaps logical or sound for a cat in perfect mental health to. Rumor had it that it was the Haunted Brook that started the madness in her head. They say that she was a normal cat up until the day that the other cats had locked her in one of the underground tunnels that resided under the brook. They said that hearing the voices of departed souls was too much for her, and when the Tsar finally made them let her out, it was too late. Citadel had cracked. There had been some attempts to keep her away from the Haunted Brook, but after a while, BrookClan cut their losses and gave her back free reign. Since then, approximately three cats had gone missing that could be tied to her in at least one way, and she had found Tuna, the stuffed bear that she had been in the midst of dragging to the water for its daily bath when she saw Shiva.
Her eyes widened at what was happening, before excitement took over. What was going on? She trembled slightly with the anticipation of the scene. There was a cat who looked mostly unconcious, and the Acecoop looked like she was about to tear into her flesh. Had she found another cat like her? Delight passed through her eyes, before her face twitched slightly.
"Tuna!" she squeaked, although she kept a short distance from Shiva. When she had taken her first life, Citadel didn't want to be crowded, so she figured that maybe Shiva was a novice and needed the space. "What have we found here?"
Post by xx.sapphire on Dec 29, 2018 14:16:39 GMT -5
Shiva's head turned quickly, eyes narrowing in irritation as her concentration was severed. The Acecoop did not recognize the Cyd, not that she particularly cared for her status, but did not immediately dismiss her. The strange plush thing that Citadel had accompanying her, however, did pique her interest. And what the hell did she just call her?
"Don't come too close," Shiva warned, her roman silver eyes flickering with slight concern for her sterile field, "I'm operating."
Delight came into her irises as a grin passed her face. Operating? How interesting. Citadel let out a yip of excitement as she edged just a little closer. "Can I watch? Can I watch?" There was an eagerness in her voice as she shifted her weight between her paws. "Tuna'n I are good watchers. We won't even get in your way! Will you pull out the small intenstine? That would be cool!"
Post by xx.sapphire on Dec 29, 2018 15:07:45 GMT -5
"Yes -- fine! Just, just back off," Shiva snapped, watching Citadel with furious intensity. If this cat broke the sterility of the environment, then her entire experiment would be thrown off, and her patient might not survive. "It's very important that you don't get too close, or this cat might not survive. I'm about to make an incision."
"Wow, Tuna, she's a bit short," sang Citadel as she picked up the bear and itched ever so much closer. "Would it be so bad if the cat doesn't survive? She doesn't smell like BrookClan, and between you and I, I haven't watched anyone get killed in a while so that might be fun," she decided, before her eager eyes pinned on the she-cat. If only she had a mouse to chomp on during the show...
