We are born with a DNA blueprint into a world of scenario and circumstance we don't control |
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Co-Captain
INVENTORY
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Post by Phoenix on Jun 14, 2014 23:57:03 GMT -5
Sootpaw- - - By the time gray paws stepped over the invisible border, abandoning the familiar in favor of the unknown with unusual ease, the sun had nearly disappeared behind the rugged mountains. Darkness rushed forward, eager to claim the night sky as its own, and cloaked the young feline in shadows so complete that he no longer needed to worry about being found out. However, even without this additional security, the fear of discovery never crossed his mind; he had no reason to fear. In his opinion, the emotion that held so much power and influence over others had no place commanding him, and like every other feeling that had yet to stumble across his consciousness, his fear was faint and easily controlled. If, on the off chance that he was found, he could always claim to have needed some air or to have been separated from a patrol or something different, for there were numerous excuses upon which he could rely if the situation required him to do so.
Sootpaw paused, unsheathed claws scraping lightly over the bare rock as he turned, half expecting to see eerie yellow eyes peering out of the shadows. Although remaining composed came as naturally as breathing, the apprentice was not so mouse-brained that he would think it unnecessary to remain alert. His father had suggested that they meet on the TreeClan border that night, and if that alone had not set the younger feline on edge, he would have long since been dead. While he could not claim to love his father to the same degree as his sister – in fact, he could not claim to love anyone based on the usual definition of the word, as love was as distant to him as fear – Sootpaw knew the senior warrior, and his last outing with Grayowl had decided to keep him company on his journey. The fur on his neck prickled at the mere thought, a shiver running down his spine at the unsettling sensation of having claws digging into such a vulnerable place. A scarred ear flicked as he moved to sit with his back to a tree. His clan, of course, had noticed his additional wounds the next day, but as he had provided a suitably vague story about a fox attack, been confined to camp for an entire two days – during which he was apparently supposed to have learned the error of his ways – and refused to say any more on the matter, they crawled away satisfied with his somewhat flimsy excuse. Whatever whispers wandered behind his back did not matter to him. He had no reason to take their opinions into consideration.
Knowing full well that the senior warrior would show himself on his own time, the TreeClan apprentice waited with eternal patience because there was little else he could do. Blue eyes cast an idle glance toward the branches above his head, a new habit that had formed since he had seen Crimsonpaw descend from the tree that night. Perhaps his experience had instilled in him a sense of paranoia, but he had the faint scars to remind him of why he made a point to look up. One could never be too careful around his father. That even his own son could attest to the truthfulness of the statement revealed more about Grayowl than any clan mate could hope to disclose.- - - Insidious
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Post by Insidious on Jun 15, 2014 9:58:58 GMT -5
Grayowl Last time he had requested the company of his son in the midst of the evening, he could have easily wound up dead. Crimsonpaw had proved himself more than useful under such circumstances; Sootpaw a touch more trustworthy than originally believed after he had taken Grayowl’s advice (though it was more of a command) to claim that a fox had been behind the nasty scars on his ear. It had been very pleasant of his son to agree to yet another of those outings. Grayowl had grown to expect nothing more than detachment from his son, for it seemed likely that’d he never bother to reveal even a hint of genuine thought upon his face. For this simple fact, he had to work harder than he did with Mockingpaw to instill the same levels of success in his particular way of life within Sootpaw. Although he didn’t show the same fondness as his sister in terms of behaving his father and giving in to the temptation of criminalistic affairs, he had yet to make it clear to either party that he didn’t somewhat enjoy it, either. It was Grayowl’s goal to make the emotionless machine that he had created with that otherwise useless she-cat admit to enjoying it.
He slipped through the trees with the momentum of a panther on the hunt, traveling to the destination where he expected his son would be waiting for him. Although Sootpaw was a little less predictable when compared to his sibling, he still didn’t think that he’d be mouse-brained enough to try avoiding his father, or declining when he suggested they go on one of these adventurous outings. It’d be pathetic if Grayowl was required to fish the young tom out of his den like some RainClan warrior, and honestly quite upsetting to partake in the aftermath. Punishment, to say the least, would be far more cruel than anything Crimsonpaw’s teeth and claws were able to do. Finally, the senior warrior arrived, the shadows of night dancing upon his charcoal frame as he slid into open view of the moonlight. He didn’t attempt to disguise himself from Sootpaw, or approach him in the hopes of sneaking up from behind - it was unappealing to think so lowly of somebody in his bloodline. He stood before his son for a moment’s time, the sound of silence undisturbed and yet disturbing, nothing but a slight jerk of his head in the supposable direction of the mountains offered before he turned on his heel and once again began to move.
“You’ll be glad to know that I have planned for just the two of us tonight. There’s a lot being, shall I say - organized? - that your ears have purposefully been unable to hear. As your father, it’d be my pleasure to share these things with you, but first I must ensure that you can be trusted with knowledge of such importance.” Crimsonpaw and Mockingpaw were aware of the plans underway involving the attempt on Willowfur’s life. Crimsonpaw, as of now, had the wondrous opportunity to partake in the slaughter. Lionstar was getting too close to jogging all of Willowfur’s lost memories, and there was no more time to waste. If she remembered, than the chances were far too high that she’d also remember who was behind her near-death all of those moons ago. If that happened, well . . . it’d be difficult for Grayowl to presume control of his herd of apprentices without being a part of TreeClan. He never wanted to have to go through all of this again. He was only supposed to have killed Willowfur once, and then be done with it. If she hadn’t been so persistent - he had always hated that about her - than she wouldn’t have to face the betrayal of her own sibling for the second time around, and she could have saved Lionstar the burden of losing a loved one all over again. Needless to say that Grayowl wasn’t looking forward to seeing the hurt upon his almighty leader’s face when he ripped Willowfur from his life again. “This does make sense to you, yes? I hate putting you through such tests that your sister or Crimsonpaw never had to go through, but it seems you require a whole different level of testing because, unlike those two, you’re an expert at masking your thoughts.” Which was true. Grayowl looked over his shoulders, the intense gold of his eyes attempting to squeeze every last detail out of Sootpaw’s expression. It was a quality that he could only hope his son treasured. Something such as that didn’t always come easy to others. Perhaps, at a time, even he had struggled with the concept when he stood under the reign of someone that reminded him of himself today.
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We are born with a DNA blueprint into a world of scenario and circumstance we don't control |
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Co-Captain
INVENTORY
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Post by Phoenix on Jun 15, 2014 17:30:49 GMT -5
Sootpaw- - - Piercing eyes lit upon the dark gray figure the moment the feline detached himself from the ever present shadows. Impassively, he held the newcomer’s yellow gaze when it flicked toward his direction, and his unchanged expression held so little recognition that one would hardly believe that his father now stood before him. The moment passed when father and son stared at each other, the latter looking up slightly from his sitting position. Sootpaw was very aware that his subtle, searching stare undoubtedly mirrored the yellow-eyed one directed toward his blank features. Father and son, yet he understood the older feline hardly more than the passing clan cat. Perhaps not even that, for Grayowl offered him as much trust as he offered the passing clan cat; the tom had just told him as much. ”Understandable,” He agreed evenly, rising to his paws as he set off after the enigma of TreeClan. ”One could hardly be expected to foolishly share his deepest secrets with a stranger.” And, truthfully, was that not what they were? Father and son, yet close only by the blood that they shared?
Admittedly, he cared more for the knowledge that that his father could impart than whatever mockery of fatherly love he might find within himself to inflict. Information that would serve him well later in life, although that he need not watch his back so keenly for a third partner in crime provided some relief; but not too much, as the wary voice in the back of his head reminded him all too quickly that the yellow-eyed feline before him could lie just as easily as his son. While he refused to betray his uneasiness so obviously by casting a backward glance over his shoulder, the apprentice surreptitiously scented the air. Filtering through the faint mountain breeze that ruffled his fur and rattled the leaves at his back, he recognized no other feline’s scent, and that provided him with more comfort than his father’s word. ”Perhaps, after tonight, we will gain a better understanding.” The of each other remained unspoken: the closest he would get to hinting at a willingness to gain Grayowl’s trust, and even then, he was not so genuinely interested in deepening their bond as he was learning the dark secrets the other cat chained up behind his unreadable mask.
He strode along, the unconscious precision and ease in his stride eerily mirroring that of the feline beside him as he considered the senior warrior’s words. A kit with any amount of intelligence could infer that tonight’s activities would involve some test of loyalty, a chance to prove his trustworthiness. As such, Sootpaw could not help but wonder just how one tested fidelity. Any cat could act the part for a short period of time, and he was not so ignorant to believe that his companion was blind to that fact. He shifted that thought away, an ear flicking as his mind landed upon the almost-compliment offered by his enigmatic companion. Blue eyes met gold, as unreadable as ever. A blink and a slight inclination of the head acknowledged the words. Free as he was from the intense emotions that burdened those around him, he found it all too natural to shield the inner workings of his mind from others. For most, distracted as they were by the sheer noise that undoubtedly occupied the majority of their skulls, he learned that a simple, closed expression would suffice, and what had once been a conscious decision evolved into a habit, a behavior.
Sootpaw did not mind the searching looks that others occasionally cast in his direction. As unskilled as they were, he knew they would find nothing that he had not placed there as bait. He was impassive – an observer, an emotionless watcher. But now he spoke up, the question joining the sparse ranks of those few that had left his mouth of their own volition. ”And yet, would you be so interested, Father, if this ‘whole different level of testing’ was unnecessary?” Do you really want another brainless drone?
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Post by Insidious on Jun 15, 2014 19:31:30 GMT -5
Grayowl & Insidious No, perhaps, he would not be so interested then. Sootpaw would fail to be anything more than an exact replica of Mockingpaw and Crimsonpaw, the two drones that served him like their brains could not function without his explicit intrusion and instruction. A part of him wanted the same thing from Sootpaw. It was a lot easier to maintain control when those beneath said control were nothing short of willing to listen and then oblige. However, his son’s almost . . . rebellious nature, when in terms of not being as willing to succumb to the desire to pursue nothing more than Grayowl’s contentment, was partially refreshing and partially annoying. Different could sometimes be disastrous. Grayowl had to test his loyalties in one way or another, because it was the only method through which he could assure himself that Sootpaw had some worth buried inside of him. Reluctant to respond to any of Sootpaw’s open-ended words, he left the young tom-cat to mull over any responses he might have inwardly hoped to receive, wishing to travel in silence from thus point onward.
From the unfamiliar smell that tinged the air, Grayowl could infer that they’d be crossing paths with someone soon - it simply did not occur to him to bother looking up. From the sky, a pair of pale blue eyes attempted to calculate what business two cats of TreeClan had in the mountains at such an hour. Her black form melted into the background of colourless scenery, watching each shift of muscle beneath their fur until they passed by her hiding spot. She had no way of knowing with certainty that the pair could pose a danger to her, but having met her share of peculiar clan cats, she felt the immense need to assume the worst of them. Regardless, it seemed that her brain would never be able to scream loudly enough that she was making a most brutal mistake. Curiousity had once again caught her tongue, and it was because of this that she found her legs presuming their individual minds and forcing her down the length of the tree with spiderly precision.
The sound of claws gritting into bark had Grayowl whirling to face their intruder in a matter of seconds. His dark gold eyes, sharp as thorns, narrowed against the sheet of shadows in an attempt of locating her black body and differentiating it from everything around her. Not a single muscle twitched throughout the length of his body as he watched her for any sudden movements, analyzing the way that she returned his stare with such unusual nonchalance. Grayowl didn’t bother sparing a glance in Sootpaw’s direction, momentarily unconcerned with seeing how his son was responding to their visitor. She was nothing more than a clanless she-cat, serving no importance to any of the clans. Although he had not originally been hoping to cross paths with another, he found himself hardly able to contain his smile as he re-evaluated what use she could be to him upon this evening. “Some would take offense to being spied upon in such a manner.” Grayowl took a gracious step closer; Insidious didn’t seem to notice.
“It’s not my fault that you so happened to walk through my line of sight.” Her eyes shifted to the younger of the two toms, mesmerized by the voidness of his expression. “Besides, if you’re implying that the two of you would take offense to having been spotted, I can only wonder what reasoning you have for having wanted to avoid another pair of eyes upon you tonight?” At this comment, the senior warrior no longer held back his smile. She was curious. Perhaps, enough so that she would stick around long enough to find out. “It would be my honour to show you our reason.” Another step closer. Another heartbeat of silence. The loner did not show any signs of worry; if anything, her eyes brightened at the idea of being shown his reason. She refused to admit to herself that there was something funny about this situation. She sat completely still, patiently waiting to be enlightened as promised, even as the dark gray predator continued to come closer. Unless Sootpaw so happened to turn his back on his father in the next few seconds, she would have no way of knowing that she was about to be attacked and, likely, killed.
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We are born with a DNA blueprint into a world of scenario and circumstance we don't control |
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Co-Captain
INVENTORY
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Post by Phoenix on Jun 15, 2014 21:11:49 GMT -5
Sootpaw- - - He was neither surprised nor disappointed when silence answered his query, for he had expected nothing more. As to the purpose that had driven the question from his lips, the apprentice could not testify, and there was no reason that he scour his mind in hopes of finding the motivation that was doubtlessly as shrouded in mystery as the feline beside him. While the answer to such a question would have revealed more about his companion than he had learned during the entirety of his lifetime, to discover such a key trait merely by allowing a question to slip through normally guarded lips seemed anticlimactic. If he were to discover a piece of information that would change his perception of his father so radically, then he would rather do it by his own merit than by his own mistake. And that was all the question was – a mistake, nothing more.
Something changed, immediately catching his attention as his muscles involuntarily tensed. A moment later, he realized that an unfamiliar scent had drifted toward him on the light breeze. And it was fresh. Claws that had never been sheathed since stepping foot off of TreeClan’s familiar territory rested lightly on the stone, and Sootpaw suddenly had the eerie sensation that they were being watched. Attributing the feeling to nerves – he had every right to be on edge, given his company, for while he was fairly confident his father would save either one of his prodigies, he could not confidently say the same for himself – the apprentice roughly brushed aside the feeling, forcing himself to ignore the ghostly claws that had started to dig into the back of his neck. Even if he had been alone, he had no reason to so clearly show his discomfort; that he was in the company of others – his father, no less – made him even less inclined to reveal his mental state. The fur along his spine continued to prickle, and finally – finally – if only to soothe his nerves and confirm that he did, in fact, have nothing to worry about – he glanced up.
And saw pale blue eyes blink away. And realized that he did, in fact, potentially have something to worry about.
A moment later, the sound of claws scraping along weathered bark alerted the senior warrior to the fact that they were no longer as alone as he had believed mere seconds earlier. Grayowl whirled around, and Sootpaw, too, whirled around, to face their unexpected company. They faced the intruder, a sleek, black she-cat, with nearly identical masks firmly in place. Unreadable as ever, piercing blue eyes stared at their paler counterparts of a similar hue, and he glanced away for only a moment to assess his father’s reaction. The senior warrior, of course, had composed himself upon coming face to face with the loner, but the air around him almost seemed to vibrate – or perhaps he was becoming more attuned to his father than he had thought – with a dangerous anticipation.
Banter followed and words were exchanged, as was inevitable in such an encounter. Unaddressed and evidently forgotten by both, Sootpaw remained silent as he keenly analyzed the words passing above his head. Had he been confident that any motion on his part would not draw the attention of either feline, he would have almost been tempted to slip away and see what would unfold. Predictably, his father restrained whatever dark tendencies he had while in the presence of clan cats, but now that they had stumbled upon an unaffiliated feline, the apprentice could not so easily calculate the outcome of this encounter. As pale blue landed upon his own empty expression, any idea of stealing away evaporated. The young TreeClan tom held the gaze evenly at the slight pause. The anticipation grew – and then Grayowl spoke, and he could almost hear the menace in his father’s voice.
But the she-cat did not flee at the grin that had spread across his father’s lips. Sootpaw knew what was coming as he held back, watching his father stalk closer, but he did not open his jaws to shout a warning. It was survival of the fittest, and he was watching natural selection in action. Any intelligent cat would have run upon seeing such a predatory spark illuminate in the senior warrior’s eyes, and if this she-cat was not intelligent enough to make such a decision – well, it was nothing personal, but Sootpaw certainly would not cry over her corpse.
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Post by Insidious on Jun 15, 2014 23:16:26 GMT -5
Grayowl & Insidious The seconds seemed to pass by as separate infinities; dark gold and pale blue remained woven into one another, each pair of eyes reflecting a varying degree of hidden thoughts. By now, Grayowl was close enough that all it would take was a quick lunge in order to make contact with the skinny feline’s body, sinking his claws into her midnight fur and ferociously dragging her to the ground to meet her demise. A part of the loner’s brain had finally managed to put two-and-two together: she knew what was coming her way, and yet interest kept her rooted to the spot. Why was it that so many of the clan cats were vicious? Why was it that her appearance, alone, had been enough to make her his victim? She found some confidence buried inside of her chest at the memory that she had once escaped a similar situation before. That particular hunter had bloody eyes that would probably be instilled into her memories for the rest of her life. But, regardless of how dangerous he had been, to this day she did not fear him. There wasn’t anything scary about dieing. She’d happily have her life taken within the span of her next few breaths, be it that she gained some kind of knowledge from such a sacrifice.
Insidious had the opportunity to try and scamper out of his path, maybe even at least duck her head - prove that she wasn't a complete fool - but she hadn’t done it. A part of her, a part that was completely insane and had undoubtedly lost its mind, was curious about the power behind this tom-cat’s strikes. She allowed him to meet his mark. In fact, she had been almost willing - she might as well have sweeped her own paws out from under her to make his job easier. Grayowl, of course, wasn’t oblivious to the fact that she wasn’t trying to put up a fight. He had the she-cat pinned under the weight of his muscular body, trying to piece together the puzzle behind her distantness. Never before had he encountered someone of such oddity. Her pale eyes continued to analyze, to calculate, as though her attacker was the most intriguing specimen she had ever laid eyes on. Quite frankly, he had had enough of her little games.
It took a second for Grayowl to raise one of his mighty paws, and another three to dig his claws into the flesh along her shoulder blade and rake them down to the middle of her flank. The wound was not deep - he wanted to make her suffer before she died - and he was satisfied by the gritting of her jaw as she attempted to lodge a screech of pain inside of her throat. Blood pumped slowly from the injury, staining the grass below them and matting the black fur that surrounded the cut. He gave her almost no time to recover from the shock before landing another blow: capturing the bone of her right, front leg between his sharp teeth and locking the limb inside of his jaw until he could taste her blood. This time, Insidious couldn’t stop herself from seething in terror. An intake of air, followed by a throat-curdling cry escaped her mouth before she once again forced her jaws closed. Grayowl, with a grin stretching across the length of his now crimson muzzle, teeth tinged with the red of her blood, invited Sootpaw closer with a curt flick of his head. The senior warrior didn’t say a word, because it was horrifyingly clear what he was expecting his son to do - finish her.
[Enter Whiteshade to distract Grayowl and save Sootpaw from making that decision?]
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We are born with a DNA blueprint into a world of scenario and circumstance we don't control |
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Co-Captain
INVENTORY
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Post by Phoenix on Jun 16, 2014 13:26:38 GMT -5
Sootpaw & Whiteshade- - - As he dispassionately watched his father force screams from between clenched jaws, he found as little surprise as he did pity for the loner: none. It was only logical, what this next step was, given their activities during the previous meeting. In a world where warriors did not take it upon themselves to adhere to such a meaningless code, death would follow fighting far more frequently; therefore, his next lesson - or perhaps test, as it were - would, naturally, involve acts of a more morbid nature. Piercing blue met deep gold. The clanless she-cat should never have descended from her lofty refuge to investigate the activities of the two clan cats. She should have remained hidden, or, at the very least, acknowledged the dangerous glint in Grayowl's eyes and run while she still had the chance. But she had decided against the two, wiser courses of action, and now her life was forfeit to the twisted game his father had brought to life because, young though he was, Sootpaw had no qualms about killing. He had hunted pretty before, seen it trapped beneath stronger and more capable paws. The only difference between his previous experiences and this one was that the prey was a feline rather than a rodent, yet that difference meant nothing at all. It was just another creature caught in the grasp of a competent hunter.
"Now this is certainly an intriguing sight to stumble upon."
The sound of an unfamiliar voice broke through the grim determination that had taken over the apprentice as he stepped forward to complete his task, and the young tom whirled around for the second time that night. Unreadable eyes found the speaker, a slim feline whose alabaster fur gave him a ghostly appearance, an analogy completed by brilliant crimson eyes that drank in the scene. The tension in the air became almost tangible as the unearthly newcomer stepped out from behind the tree, tail curling lightly through the air behind him, and Sootpaw knew from the confidence with which the other tom held himself in a situation that would have others quaking that he was in the presence of two very formidable predators.
Red eyes flicked from one face to the next, his expression politely curious. He recognized the loner, of course, as the one with whom he had crossed paths numerous times, and that the other two - father and son, perhaps? - were from TreeClan only made the scene all the more interesting. He would have hardly thought that TreeClan would have felines of his own ilk, what with their disgustingly sentimental leader. But then, Lionstar had stood by and watched as they forced StoneClan into the mountains, so perhaps the golden leader was not as soft as he would have them believe. However, that was neither here nor there, as he was sure that the TreeClan leader would never condone such violent acts.
It did not take him long to deduce the purpose of this particular outing, as the scene closely resembled ones of his not-so-distant past. He strode forward, acutely aware of the weight of the apprentice's gaze upon him as he tracked his movements. The senior warrior glanced toward the youngest of his companions, briefly sparing him a glance before addressing the gray, golden-eyed feline pinning the loner. "They start younger and younger," He continued, almost regretfully, as though he had never led his own apprentice into the mountainside for a similar purpose. "But the younger they start, the better they become." He cast another look toward the blue-eyed tom as though asking, Well, apprentice, are you going to do it then? Do you have it within you to steal a life? But he never gave the younger feline a chance to respond before he turned away, facing his mentor or father - or both - once more.
"As I am sure you have noticed, the she-cat you currently have beneath your claws is rather odd. She does not run and does not flinch when her life is mere moments away from being cut short." LightningClan's devil paused in his stride and sat at the loner's head, facing the gray tom. With his tail wrapped delicately around his paws, he inclined his head ever so slightly toward the loner, curious as to how this would play out. "Carry on, then. Don't let me distract you."- - -
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Post by Insidious on Jun 16, 2014 20:34:19 GMT -5
Grayowl & Insidious Death had a funny way of playing out. She escaped it, time and time again, until she almost could have convinced herself that she was invincible, despite the stupid decisions she made based entirely on the sake of gaining knowledge. Looking up into the eyes of her tormentor, she was convinced of an entirely separate thing: this time, it could be real. This time, she would die. It felt wrong that she wasn’t attempting to mull over all of the exciting or dangerous things that she had done so far with her life. Instead, she was thinking about him, him and his lovely little prodigy. She didn’t have to try and turn her head to the side, laying it on the bloody grass, to understand what the flick of his head had intended. The monster was summoning his companion, his fellow feline of all things dark and cruel, likely to join him in the wonderful task of ending her life. It didn’t matter how she was going to die, or who was going to be behind it. If anything, she was grateful that her life wasn’t ending so abruptly - she could have drowned, or died in a manner equally less productive. This way, at least someone was learning something from her death, and would take the memory of her fearless blue eyes back to their home with them.
Maybe her savior was the demon himself, because the cat that had only moments before been inhabiting a small portion of her thoughts now glided effortlessly between the trees, coming to see the show unfold. No part of her believed that he had any intentions of saving her. For this, she was thankful - how pathetic of someone to put their lives in danger to save the life of another. It wasn’t brave, it was reckless. She didn’t want to be in debt to anybody. It was better this way. She didn’t try and spare a glance in the demon’s direction - she had taken her fill of his appearance - but she noticed the way that he so easily proved as being a distraction for her current murderer. With Grayowl focusing on the new addition to this party, and Sootpaw’s path towards her momentarily unimportant to him, she took her opportunity to flee.
Grayowl was a moment too late. He lashed out with his fangs, sharp as needles, slicing through the air to clamp down on her tail and drag her back down to the ground. Insidious, however, was far too graceful to be caught - even dripping of her own blood. She sprinted a short distance and then pivoted to face her three potential attackers, a few individual seconds spent upon the features of each feline to calculate which one seemed most likely to give chase. Grayowl’s teeth gritted, presumably angry that this newcomer - Whiteshade - had taken his attention away from Insidious. The senior warrior parted his lethal jaws, moments away from declaring that despite Whiteshade’s intention of not distracting him, he in fact had distracted him. However, his trail of thought was cut short at a sign of movement in his line of vision. The bloody and bruised she-cat took a few wobbly steps in his son’s direction, her pale eyes focused despite their weariness from bloodloss. A path of red liquid revealed which path she had taken; for each step forward she took, there was a bloody imprint left behind in the soil. It dawned on Grayowl, just then, how accurate the albino’s statement about her had been. He could easily leap forward and recapture his prey, finishing what he had started, but his interest had been piqued and rightfully so. She was rather fascinating, and he wished to learn more before he stole the spark that illuminated what inside of her was so intriguing.
“You were moving too slow.” She spoke as though it was the simplest thing in the world; as though she wasn’t surrounded by three cats that had just agreed on killing her. “I could have been dead before Whiteshade got here, had you been walking a little faster. Regardless, the initiative that you showed was impressive, remarkable even.” Her eyes were bright, full of the life that she had nearly lost. She analyzed the younger tom’s body like he wasn’t a living, breathing creature, but instead a document inscribed with the words of a foreign language that she was tempted to uncode. Nearby, Grayowl was completely baffled. He looked to the albino in front of him, the questions alight in his dark eyes. He was, dare he admit, glad for Whiteshade’s interruption. “The intent to kill this fascinating creature is admittedly lost upon me. She’s . . .”
Fearless.
Aware that she was being spoken of, she averted her haunting stare and gleaned that the danger Grayowl posed - though perhaps she could not yet say the same for Whiteshade - had passed. His eyes were no longer full of hunger, but of something else entirely: perhaps confusion? She would never understand why these clan cats were so easily intrigued by her ways. “I used to wonder, Whiteshade, if you were the only one of your kind that would dare make an attempt on my life without any particular reason. But you - ” she looked between father and son, “ - and you have given me a whole new mystery to contemplate. This experience has opened my eyes to the limitless possibilities of you ominous clan cats.”
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We are born with a DNA blueprint into a world of scenario and circumstance we don't control |
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Co-Captain
INVENTORY
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Post by Phoenix on Jun 16, 2014 23:05:37 GMT -5
Sootpaw & Whiteshade- - - He almost knew what would happen the moment before it happened. A certain stillness hung in the air in the wake of his sudden appearance and declaration as the gray-furred felines focused their attention on him. That was their mistake. While he could not claim to know the loner particularly well, three separate conversations with her had taught him that if he had any desire to gain the upper hand, he would need to focus all of his attention on her or risk the she-cat slipping away – just as she did from beneath the tom’s claws. The flurry of motion at his paws did not draw his attention away from the gray furred tom before him, and he did not move to help or prevent the loner from escaping the unforgiving grasp of TreeClan’s closet devil and young disciple. As intriguing as she was, the loner was currently of no consequence to him; the pair before him – he had decided that they were father and son, as the eerie resemblance was too obvious to overlook – had captured his interest.
”Utterly devoid of any common sense?” Whiteshade suggested dryly, finishing the TreeClan tom’s sentence as the words trailed off while their owner seemed to search for the right description. The alabaster feline thought that his description was fairly accurate. Inclining his head slightly toward the elder of the gray toms, he inquired politely, ”Grayowl, correct?” The name rose to his lips with a little prompting, as he did not make a habit of learning the names of those not of his own clan. He kept an air of easy nonchalance about him, acting like he stumbled upon an almost-murder scene every other night. In fact, some, the senior warrior knew, would accuse him of doing just that. ”It is not often one finds prey intrigued by the claws that slit her own throat.” He commented idly, tail flicking as he cast a short glance toward the bloody loner currently accosting the TreeClan tom’s young companion.
Sootpaw eyed the loner as she approached him, betraying none of the slight apprehension he felt as the blue met his own. It appeared, however, that he had no reason to worry about any retaliation, and had he owned a fully functioning set of emotions, his anticipation would have been replaced with faint amusement at the sheer irony of the entire situation. Here was a cat he had been about to kill – and would still potentially kill, if his father tired of her games – telling him what he had done wrong in trying to cut her life short. ”Then I will move faster next time,” He responded blandly, voice as empty and clipped as always. Returning the favor, his piercing gaze scanned her features, idly noting that her eyes remained sharp despite the weakness of her limbs. It would be so easy to kill her, but his father seemed to have lost interest in the endeavor entirely.
The loner shifted her gaze to the feline occupying his thoughts, and after a moment, the young apprentice did the same, glancing to the side at Grayowl. The senior warrior seemed just as incapable of explaining the aberration standing before him as the rest of them. An ear flicked, and Sootpaw turned his attention back to the she-cat as she spoke. How curious. She found them as enigmatic as they found her.
One alabaster shoulder lifted in a slight shrug. ”Perhaps I do have a reason for my previous actions – one that you need neither know nor trouble yourself about. However,” Here he turned back to the gold-eyed clan cat. ”She is correct: your choice of hobby is very interesting. Most would frown upon the practice.” As though he had any moral grounds to accuse the other of unethical behavior. - - -
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Post by Insidious on Jun 18, 2014 19:53:08 GMT -5
Grayowl & Insidious “Most do frown upon the practice.” His eyes were alight with unspoken passion and deliberate contentment. There were a few names that came to mind almost instantly; names of those that he knew, with their bodies and souls alike, pointed their accusatory claws in the charcoal demon’s direction as he passed, overwhelmed by their suspicions as to what kinds of treachery he could have very well been puncturing his teeth into only moments before. Looking at his son, he could only absently assume why he had grown so accustomed to his voidness of expression - without it, those of TreeClan would pry him apart in the hopes of uncovering whatever evil he had inherited. Just like Mockingpaw hid behind her youthful innocence, the sadism buried in each tiny tooth and claw disguised from the blind world by simply batting her small eyes like butterfly wings, Sootpaw hid behind this unreadable sheet of glass. He needed it in order to survive what came with being Grayowl’s spawn. He wasn’t oblivious to the unease with which Lionstar analyzed his offspring - he was searching determinedly for something, anything, that would glean to him that they harboured an intention that could get them banished from his clan before any real harm could be dealt. It was too late for any of that, though. If Grayowl could hardly discern the meaning behind each lifeless flutter of Sootpaw’s pale blue eyes, there was no hope for Lionstar. He’d be able to bestow the leader with an all new kind of trouble, an all new kind of danger to have his mane of golden fur tangling itself into knots. He was nothing more than an apprentice, and yet he met his father’s eyes with a sense of timeless patience, like he was anticipating the smallest sign, the slightest signal, through which he could determine that it was once again time to lash out at their rather peculiar source of bleeding company.
However, it would seem as though Lionstar had it easy. LightningClan had a predicament of its own; perhaps twice as scary as Grayowl. Where he was manipulative and patient - patient enough to take the time it required to create his very own offspring and raise them to share his ideals - Whiteshade seemed nothing more than . . . downright cruel. It would take nothing more than sheer coincidence of someone’s insignificant company to have him unsheathing his claws and tearing into that same someone’s neck. He craved the same colour that leaked from his eyes. He wanted not only for others to see it when they met his gaze, but to see it himself. What was it that had everyone so traumatized when they looked at him? It wasn’t his eyes, but rather the redness of his eyes. The way that it exploited the world’s ultimate weakness: death. Grayowl had to give reason to fear him. He had to enlist it within the hearts of those around him. Whiteshade, however, need nothing more than his eyes - because looking into those eyes, those undeniably red eyes, one already saw the misery and the torture and the weakness that Grayowl had to work to make them feel. That wasn’t what he saw. Not necessarily. He, in a way, shared this albino’s desires. He wanted to bend and twist the pain of those around him into something unbearable. Something they’d sooner die than face.
“Most, however, are without any real means of proving that I’m more of a danger to their beloved clan than actual assistance. There’s, of course, the minority that know more than I’d normally be willing to allow - but all of those gruesome details are locked inside the suffering mind of a she-cat without the ability to tell.” Brokensong. She’d seen him stand by and nearly watch his apprentice, Onyxpaw, die at the paws of none other than this very tomcat’s former apprentice: Nightstep. For simply stumbling upon the wrong scene at the wrong time, Grayowl would have sprinted after her and had her dead before she could get back to TreeClan and breathe a word of it. But she was mute. She could not enlighten her peers of his madness, and because of that mere fact, he decided to spare her life and watch her struggle with the wish that, one day, she’d be able to say something.
They were also locked inside the mind of a she-cat that wasn’t bothered to tell. She could - she very well could hightail her way on over to TreeClan and tell Lionstar that he was sheltering a murderer. But where was the fun in that? She’d much sooner stand amidst the sidelines where she belonged, confident in her everlasting web of knowledge of those inside of the clans - a kind of knowledge that, surely, so many leaders would love to have over the heads of their precious servants. She had seen enough, particularly and strangely involving this albino villain above all else, to have her fascinated about him for the rest of her life. These three, standing before her, were some of the most interesting cats she’d ever come across. Her body was beginning to feel uncomfortably cold; she watched as the blood drizzled, slower now, from the various cuts and abrasions that littered her skinny form. Oh, what she did for the sake of enlightenment. This trio was above and beyond dangerous, but as of the now the threat had passed, and for that she saw no reason to duck away and hide. “Is this what you want?” The question was out of the blue; completely unexpected and straight to the point. The she-cat had once again taken interest in none other than the blank-faced menace that could very easily grow up to be just as maniacal and cunning as his father. She would, from this point onward, be intrigued to bear witness to how he grew up and what became of him. “To kill? To follow in his footsteps? To answer to him as you do?" The questions kept spilling from her jaws. She had to force her jaws closed to keep them from coming. She was mesmerized by the way he kept his face so concealed. The midnight she-cat had seen enough of Whiteshade to read sadism and violence in all of the little cracks upon his perfectly creepy face, and having just lain wedged beneath the weight of Grayowl whom sought nothing more than her death for the sake of giving his son something to kill (and undoubtedly satisfying his own need to render another of his kind useless), she assumed nothing short from equally terrible things of him. Sootpaw, however, she had yet to figure out. She could not read his face, and therefore could not read into what it was that he actually wanted. She didn’t entirely expect to receive an honest answer - what with the way his father’s attention had snapped upon this new topic of conversation with all the intensity of, well, an owl - but she waited for that answer, be it true or false, nonetheless.
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We are born with a DNA blueprint into a world of scenario and circumstance we don't control |
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Co-Captain
INVENTORY
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Post by Phoenix on Jun 29, 2014 17:36:21 GMT -5
Sootpaw & Whiteshade- - - ”That they do.” He spoke the words lightly, as though they had chosen to discuss a topic as trivial and harmless as the weather. Crimson eyes met glittering gold. It was not hard to recognize that the same beast that lurked behind a LightningClan feline’s mask of charm also hid within the TreeClan tom before him, resting beneath the image of an ominous but seemingly trustworthy warrior. Just like those of his own clan, TreeClan was blind, unable to recognize the monster sheltered among them – so blind that they would allow him his own apprentice, unofficial or not, to train as he pleased. The chosen ignorance of some cats astounded him, though to work to change that would be counterproductive to his own illicit activities. Perhaps only his own experience with the monster that drove him allowed him to recognize the deadly light that shone in the deep yellow gaze across from him.
The ghost of a smirk touched his lips. ”And even if they had the means of proving the nature of your hobbies, would they have the back bone to follow through with their decision?” Fear could easily render a feline mute, and although the discovery of a feline similar to himself was a pleasant surprise, he hardly expected that the clan of righteous softies would dare tattle on one of their own – particularly with that one feline made it very clear that he had no qualms about getting blood on his claws. With his unearthly gaze, he had it simple; even without the aid of such a dangerous threat, he could have a cat trembling with a single look in his or her direction. Although it might have bothered him when he was very young – and there was no guarantee about that – the shiver that would travel down others’ spines had quickly ceased to do so. Instead, he satisfied himself with the knowledge that he held the delicious power to cause such a dramatic reaction with only his appearance and learned to take advantage of the fact.
Brilliant red eyes followed the golden gaze as it shifted to focus on the youngest of their companions, whom Whiteshade had decided was the TreeClan cat’s son. But if the weight of the additional stares bothered Sootpaw, he did not show it. With his expression as blank as always, he carefully considered her questions. Had she not already shown the sharpness of her mind, he would accuse her of merely stumbling upon such dangerous territory; however, the brightness in her pale blue eyes, so much like his own, told him that she had not tripped. She had run. His own father, had he been so bold about his inquiries as the she-cat he had just tried to kill, would have run as well. Even if Sootpaw had not shared the same desire to learn more about his blood relation, the way the dark gray head had swung around so quickly gave the game away. And therein lay the danger. While he would hardly disclose such information to anyone – let alone a complete stranger – that he would do so in front of his father was a hundred times less appealing. Blood could easily follow a wrong answer from his lips, and their two companions, the red-eyed tom and the wounded loner, would hardly bat an eye.
Sootpaw blinked slowly. ”That is the question, isn’t it,” He agreed easily, neutrally. ”However, while I am touched-“ The flatness of his voice screamed otherwise ”-that you care so much about my desires, I assure you that I am fully capable of realizing them myself. It is unnecessary for you to worry yourself.” He resisted the urge to glance over at his father to see Grayowl’s reaction to his son’s non-answer. Instinct told him that it would be far better to see the potential claws flying toward his face – and, indeed, he could already feel a ghostly pain as he braced for the worst – but he shoved it away. While he still played this dangerous game, he would not fall in any more than he wanted to, and he did not want to search out his father’s reaction for every little motion he made.- - - OOC: Sorry for such a late response!
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Post by Insidious on Jul 20, 2014 13:06:55 GMT -5
Grayowl & Insidious In immediate answer to the tom’s following words, a dazzling smile stretched across her bleeding lip. They were all of such a talent; this amazing ability that, through using, could bend and twist their words in such a way that allowed them to avoid any unwanted attention. Clearly, her question had stirred an unease inside of him. She narrowed her eyes until she could hardly see through them, scrutinizing the tom-cat for an alteration in behavior that would never come. It was not something she would be able to see, she mused idly. Instead, it was something that she would have to settle with being able to feel - it was like toxic in the air. It was his life on the line by answering her questions, not hers, and even still she felt the poison seeping into her lungs. “You are correct in saying that it’s unnecessary,” her crystalline eyes fluttered with the delicacy of butterfly wings, “but I’m quite fascinated by the unnecessary. For now, I won’t pursue this any further - blind as I may be to impending danger, I can see well enough when, as a result of my inquiries, it’s no longer my impending danger to be worried about.” With that, her attention slipped away from him and instead found a home inside the abysmal gaze of his father, who had the sneaky suspicions of a sneer formulating at the tip of his mouth.
“I would sever their backbone, should they even consider it.” The biting words were tossed over his shoulders, treated as though light as a feather, as the predator stood to his paws and approached his son’s flank to stand before the wounded loner. The answer to her question was something he had been trying to figure out for as long as he could remember - thus his interest in his potential reply - but he hadn’t expected anything short of Sootpaw’s usual nonchalance. If he had no interest in being anything like his father, than he was doing a satisfactory job of stalling. He likely understood that nothing good would come from annihilating whatever worth he held in Grayowl’s vile stare. As soon as he made it clear that he wasn’t interested in being like Grayowl, or being like Mockingpaw, he would cease to be like any of them at all when he was buried in the ground.
“You would kill your own son.” It was more of a statement than it was a question. Insidious had gathered as much about the duo’s relationship, and she knew better than to assume anything but the worst of him - of anyone here, really. All Grayowl did in response to such a thing was continue to smile, content with her holding the knowledge inside of her and believing it to be true without the interference of whatever response he would care to muster. It’d be useless trying to feign surprise or offence when he had already went so long looking unaffected. He would kill his own son. It was not a statement of sentiment, or a statement of which he cared to make others disgusted. It was cold fact. Insidious, however, seemed far from disgusted. She was simply intrigued, for there was few things else she was ever known to be. Right now, all she could bother herself with doing was continuing to examine the son of such a cold-blooded murderer and wonder if she’d ever have the chance to question him again. He could keep talking circles around that question, the golden question, for as long as he wanted, but it was only a matter of time until Grayowl expected an answer. How long could he protect himself? Insidious, with perhaps one of the most gruesome outbursts of thought to ever plague her, couldn’t wait to find out.
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We are born with a DNA blueprint into a world of scenario and circumstance we don't control |
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Co-Captain
INVENTORY
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Post by Phoenix on Aug 11, 2014 12:16:18 GMT -5
Sootpaw & Whiteshade- - - Such clear confirmation of the extent of his father's viciousness might have made him less inclined to allow the senior warrior to step up so close to his side had he not already acquainted himself with the exceedingly probable possibility of that very truth. Even if he had somehow remained blissfully - or perhaps willfully - ignorant up until moments ago, common sense would tell him that if he preferred his spine where it was and in its current state, not flinching to the side like a skittish hare would be the best course of action. And so, merely filing way the concrete knowledge that had confirmed what had been very strong suspicion - though suspicion all he same - he remained unmoved by the declaration that hung in the silence between them. Pale blue met the curious gaze of a similar hue for mere moments before a smooth voice captured his attention.
”Who knew that TreeClan was capable of sheltering such a predator,” Whiteshade mused out loud, tail flicking. Surely Lionstar would not approve of such a monster, though he had his doubts as to whether the leader actually knew of the existence of what lurked within his precious clan. Glinting with something akin to amusement, crimson eyes settled upon the father and son. The smaller of the two showed no visible reaction to what would have had so many fleeing - and sealing their fates - in an instant, but the LightningClan tom found it near impossible to believe that such ruthless words caused nothing but a stare as blank as the ones before the senior warrior spoke. There must have been a jolt, perhaps an insidiously creeping chill as it was realized that if the apprentice ever desired help, he could not hardly hope to turn to his father for assistance without first declaring his loyalty. And it seemed as though the young tom had yet to do so - in favor of or against Grayowl.
The silence stretched on as he regarded the intriguing pair, frozen in contemplation, before he seemed to jerk himself out of his trance with a blink and flick of the ear. Creeping across his face, the ghost of a smile - or was it a smirk? - appeared as he flicked his tail and gathered himself. He almost felt a shade giddy, what with such an intriguing find. ”I regret it, but I must be on my way; the night grows long, and I still have much to accomplish. It has been a pleasure, gentlemen,” The tom inclined his head slightly, first to the TreeClan cats and then to the loner. ”And our encounters never cease to fascinate, my dear loner. I do not doubt that our paths will cross yet again.” Flicking his tail once more, he rose to his paws and turned, departing as silently as he had come, confident in his belief that they would not stoop so low as to attack him when his back was turned. Admittedly, he would be very disappointed if they chose to forgo courtesy in favor of utilizing such a boring tactic as if they thought he would not have already considered and planned for such an event.
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