⇀ Cell 3.0

@Migos It was easy to understand that, obviously, the hybrid did not want to talk to him. Which was fine, there were many that did not want to talk at first and Kit had learned to respect that – he had always been the one to respect the others decision. And if it meant not talking, that was fine too.

“You know, I’ve been out with Jagger and Mysh too. Do you know them? They live down here as well,” he kept talking, soft voice and warm smile. ‘Living’ down here was probably not the right expression but the only he could find right now. Surely, they were spending their lives down here but they did not really like it. And Kit felt sorry for them but there was not much he could do.
“Can I come in? I want to free you from the chains. At least for as long as we are going outside.” He looked warmly at the hybrid.

It was sad that he had so little to do with the hybrids and more to do with the Wild Ones. He liked them and they liked him but he wanted to help down here. There was a lot the scientists and doctors ignored, especially the part where these creatures needed company. Being down here, engulfed by the darkness wasn’t good for anyone. And if Kit already hated the labs and the catacombs, how could these poor hybrids like it here? There was no possible way.

Carefully Kit held his hand out. “I am a friend. You can trust me.” He knew it was not so easy but he was no one to betray those creatures. Why would he? It would not help him in any way – neither did taking them out, actually it was damn dangerous. But he could not watch this without trying to help them.

@Kit It was an addition to the consecutive nights of a struggle in his containment cellar. A good worth of attempts to free himself from the heavy shackles that bound his wrists together — even if it’d take all the frustration bent thrashing around, the clawing of his nails that’d grown significantly sharp as well as the gnawing of his teeth. Heck, he’d do just about anything in his own strength to prevent wasting away in some measly old dungeon, one that already smelt of death for as far as his impeccable senses were telling him. Although bit by bit, for an unfortunate case, the bengal tiger hybrid’s willpower was diminishing as time went by; the sun set calling for a suffocating realm of darkness and in a matter of hours his attempt for even the smallest ounce of emancipation was deemed futile once more.

Inevitably, he’d taken an isolated crouch of silence by one of the corners to the cell as he usually would for a shut eye. But that too was deemed impossible in terms of an individual who dared show themselves before him, luring his eyes to slowly flicker open .. and those flaviscent irises of his to gleam. Once with curiosity and then slowly with wary intent. “...” He’d mustered nothing but an audible groan to his own name, whilst he pressed his back against the cold surface of the wall behind him. Those shackled wrists of his, a mere shield as of this point in time. Perhaps enough to give him time to think about a possibility to standing against one and maybe just maybe .. finding his way out? Who knew? Not him, just yet.

@Migos The night was still early when Kit quietly made his way down to the catarcombs where the cells were. He had to admit that, yes, he was really tired but he had a mission and that was showing the hybrids the outer world – fresh, flowing water, green, beautiful grass and bright, shining stars.
Quietly he opened the door to the cells and made his way towards the one he had never talked to before. His sister had warned him that the hybrid – Migos – was rather stubborn but that did not stop Kit. Everyone deserved equality and even though none of them got it here he would still not stop.

Carefully and quietly he opened the door of the cell.
“Hey,” he said softly and stopped in the doorframe – he would not enter without an invitation. He knew that these hybrids did not get much respect so at least Kit wanted to give them some.
“I am here to show you the night,” he added and smiled warmly, hoping that the hybrid would cooperate. Of course he was a person the hybrid had barely seen before. Kit was a psychologist and worked more with Wild Ones than with hybrids.

But that still did not stop him.

“My name is Kit. You are Migos, right?” he softly said and looked at the person in front of him.