{For Echo!}
{Wasn't sure if you wanted to continue where left off or not so here's the last two replies of the roleplay!}
{Echos’ Post}Unsure of his words, the she-cat merely shrugged it off not wanting to go into details about his whole list idea. Whether he had a mental note who he disliked the most or not wasn't her concern. When her time came to meet his claws again, she'd simply accept this fate. It's just how this feline was. Sure she shouldn't go out without trying to defend herself... if she had the chance, but she wouldn't try to compromise her way out of it. Besides, there was no chance anyone could change Hannibals mind about something, was there? That was another unknown thing about the strange gray tom-cat. Hardly anyone knew anything about him. He was unpredictable from what she knew. "Very many possibilities, although I have an idea you'd chose whatever made me suffer the most. We both know very well that even with Hera around now, you wouldn't stop this time," Illusion was almost admitting she would die under this feline's claws. It was almost as if she were expecting it at any minute. But who wouldn't when you were facing such a menacing feline? It'd be a lie to say you don't at least let the thought cross your mind once. "No one would try to stop you this time. Dusk Syndicate in itself would just take it as an act to removing the weak after all, although I don't consider myself weak here. Unless you could say otherwise," she stated simply.

A new feline entered the clearing and her depths turned away from Hannibal and onto the feline and a kittypet. Simply staring, Illusion awaited the feline to do something. "Well speak of a weak link," she murmured almost directly to Hannibal. Who she was referring to was unknown. Why would a syndicate cat walk in and try to make himself seem strong by killing off a mere kittypet. Kittypets were toys in her eyes, but the worst way to show strength. Perhaps she was referring to the kittypet. They weren't worth keeping around and pratically useless when it came to combat. Her gaze drifted back to Hannibal almost as if she were waiting for an agreement or his own comment.

{My Post}Eerie gaze fixed on her as she shrugged, Hannibal twitched his tail a bit, wondering if she was thinking it over even if she had shrugged, part of him slightly wanting her to have the idea stuck in her brain to ponder and torture her thoughts, wondering if she was on that list even if there wasn't a list at all, psychological torture was very interesting to watch in Hannibals' opinion. To destroy a cats mind slowly, drive them to paranoia.. Oh he loved to watch it. But part of him knew that Illusion wasn't that easy to get into her mind, to toy with it. He didn't quite want to try harder, he'd pick here and there, but never try harder than that, perhaps one day he could chip that wall that surrounded her mind down, or perhaps not, perhaps he'd simply grow tired of waiting and end her once and for all. One of his ears swiveled slightly as he heard her respond. A hollow smile appeared on his lips, his muscles pulling the corners up but there was no emotion behind that smile, it was just an action without meaning really. "Everyone in this Syndicate is weak in their own regards including myself Illusion. Whether another cat will ever find that out, I'm not sure, but if I killed other cats because they were weak, then why isn't everyone here dead?" There was a burning of something unkown in his eyes as he focused his gaze on hers momentarily before slowly he swiveled his head at hearing the voice of some cat in the center of camp, his nose twitching slightly as he pulled in the two scents.

It was a Syndicate cat and a kittypet, Hannibal heaving out a quiet breath as he listened and watched the two, his interest plummeting immensely. Some cats really had no class did they? Or were they perhaps so desperate to show some sort of power that they had to do something as.. Simple as this. His ear swiveled slightly at Illusions comment, but he didn't utter a single word, in fact it almost appeared that he didn't even really hear her. Growing bored with the little scene, he began to groom his chest fur, deciding that if whoever that cat was ended up killing the kittypet, as he's sure what was going to happen, he would take the corpse for himself. It had been a while since he had tasted cat flesh, and it's only good if it's fresh.

Originally Posted by Suspiciousmindz (Post 4427) Illusion merely blinked at his response. This was true. Everyone had a weakness, some were harder to find than others -- Hannibal for example. Her blue depths were focused on the smoky tom-cat. There was so much mystery within this feline, it could drive a cat wild to not understand it. Especially when the other feline knows that he's tormenting them with his mind games. The transition is slow but noticeable. Maybe that's what drove Illusion to her deceptive ways? Who knew. The past is the past after all. The silky furred feline continued to watch him, thinking of what to say next. The kittypet and the Syndicate cat were nothing special to watch and sort of faded into the background. Background noise as one should say. "So Hannibal," she began. Once more her voice was light, soft, a sort of kittypetish tone. "Then what has kept you from added to your famous list of dead cats?" The words rolled off her tongue. It didn't phase her. Quite frankly, she found Hannibal intriguing. Whenever she noticed him strolling about Syndicate, questions always flooded her mind. What made him tick? What is he thinking? What is his next move? They'd all go unanswered, but asking never hurt anything right? And he didn't need to know she thought these things about her. She simply needed him to think she was scared of him. That she was nervous around him. Sure, the act was half true, but deep down Hannibal was just another cat. Enhanced function was just an add-on

Just like any cat, Hannibal the monster had a weakness, he had a chink in his armor like anyone else unlike what the popular belief was, yes he could be beaten. But unlike most cats, as Illusion has likely come to know, his weakness is exceptionally hard to spot, and it will likely never be spotted by another cat. As Illusion focused her gaze on him, his gaze was focused elsewhere, not on the scene that was happening in the clearing, but really.. At nothing in particular, his orange gaze clouded slightly as he thought about something, who knows what it was, no one could really tell what this stone of a cat thought.

But his former trainees voice brought him back out of his thoughts and caused him to focus his attention back on her, those emotionless orange depths settling to stare at her. That soft light tone that she was doing had no effect whatsoever on him, his ears simply swiveled to face her so that he could hear her better. The dark grey tom paused for a moment, simply looking at her, thinking of his answer and whether he should answer her at all, he wasn't obligated to share his reasoning, but he had no reason not to. Or perhaps he could just give her part of the truth and keep her wondering, or give her the whole truth and make it seem like he was lying, or simply lie straight out. Oh the possibilities. "Maybe because I enjoy watching them think about my next move. Maybe it's because I enjoy slowly degrading their minds and slowly pushing them towards madness, it will happen eventually Illusion if I keep picking, no matter how strong you believe your mind to be, there is always a breaking point and I'm slowly chipping away. Maybe I just want them to keep guessing and wondering if the next day is perhaps their last." Not a single emotion sparked on his face as he spoke, the words came out smoothly but without any form of emotion attached to them, it would be impossible to decipher whether this was a ploy or whether there was truth to it, nothing about him would give her any sort of answer. And as he spoke.. It almost appeared that he was also speaking about her, why he hadn't add her to that 'famous list'. It was up to her whether she wanted to believe this or not. His gaze never left hers and he simply watched, he watched very carefully.

Originally Posted by Moonfur (Post 2322) [ QUOTE=Ash;736]Ash padded out into the clearing and stretched yawning.

[[open post!]]

Lusk creeps from within the confines of the healer's abode, reeking of dust and decay, medicinal undertones stinging at the nostrils of the fellow syndicate cats that brush by him, never close enough to really touch his broad form. None of them are recognizable, all strangers under his warped gaze. It fails to unsettle him, regardless of how alien the surroundings are when your main source of navigation happens to be your sense of smell.

It's a brief, fleeting thought, but the faces of long-since passed cats burn their way into his mind, dissipating after a second. He can't smell them, isn't sure if he'd even be able to after so long. He tells himself it's fine. None of them were friends to begin with. Neomora, Hazel, and who was it...? He can't recall the name of the tom who'd spent moons alongside him within the healer's den, his only aid whilst the syndicate still had cats attacking others from clans, larger in numbers, and for what? Some sense of pride? He'd be having none of it.

He supposes, at the end of it all, his frustrations stem from the fact that he just doesn't find himself all that fond of fighters -- and likely never will.

Curling his tail over his paws, he settles into his own thoughts, basking in what's left of the early fall sun.

Originally Posted by mirefern (Post 7499) [[open post!]] Lusk creeps from within the confines of the healer's abode, reeking of dust and decay, medicinal undertones stinging at the nostrils of the fellow syndicate cats that brush by him, never close enough to really touch his broad form. None of them are recognizable, all strangers under his warped gaze. It fails to unsettle him, regardless of how alien the surroundings are when your main source of navigation happens to be your sense of smell. It's a brief, fleeting thought, but the faces of long-since passed cats burn their way into his mind, dissipating after a second. He can't smell them, isn't sure if he'd even be able to after so long. He tells himself it's fine. None of them were friends to begin with. Neomora, Hazel, and who was it...? He can't recall the name of the tom who'd spent moons alongside him within the healer's den, his only aid whilst the syndicate still had cats attacking others from clans, larger in numbers, and for what? Some sense of pride? He'd be having none of it. He supposes, at the end of it all, his frustrations stem from the fact that he just doesn't find himself all that fond of fighters -- and likely never will. Curling his tail over his paws, he settles into his own thoughts, basking in what's left of the early fall sun.