Quote:
Originally Posted by JaxenAmethyst
@ Duskflight
Broken padded into the Fighters' Den, an empty expression plastered to his red eyes, his face overall, like water to a clan cats' pelt. His sleek black pelt showing no sign of insanity, nor psychopathic ways. He sat down in a dark corner, his pelt camouflaged in complete darkness to where the only thing giving him away were his bright red, menacing eyes. He had no intentions of talking as he stared into Hannibal's psychotic orbs. An empty, imitated smile spread across the tom's maw, none that any cat could see nevertheless. Broken wasn't the type to appear rugged, crazed, insane, unstable, nor even the slightest bit evil. He was more on the sharp-looking, cleanly tomcat side whom always pierced through the souls of cats who had no aim of coming close to him.
Although unable to see, Broken shifted in his nest, creating an unbearble, yet slight, scuffle amongst the Fighters' den, all the while maintaining his focus on Hannibal's orange orbs. |
It was shortly after Onyx left when another cat came padding in to the rather empty fighters den, the dark grey tom hardly even offering a glance to the other, completely disinterested at the moment as he mulled things over in his mind. About how he would play along with the 'friendship' idea, just so that he could grow close to the cat that killed for sport, learn everything he could about him so that he could add to his ever growing knowledge of how other cats worked before planning out his demise. It took a while to befriend a cat, Hannibal knew that, but he also had an endless amount of patience. If Hannibal wanted to do something? He did it, and through careful planning, there was usually no cleanup needed or trouble to deal with, though sometimes he did have miscalculations, he wasn't a perfect cat, no cat was perfect, but he definitely did well in covering for himself considering no cat could actually befriend him. It was just him in this world, other cats were just.. Things. They were books, there for him to read and then discard. It was nothing personal, nothing was ever personal with Hannibal, it was just how things went.
After a while, the tom's head turned to look at Broken, those fiery, red-orange eyes of his focused on the black cat that had settled into the darkness before his maw parted to allow himself to speak.
"You know, some would find it rude to stare."
It was a simple statement and somehow, it held a very dark undertone, he could have very easily made it lighthearted and yet, he had chosen to make it subtly threatening, just enough to where it could make a cat uneasy if they were easily unnerved.
Nonetheless, Broken had the fleeting attention of a very infamous, very dangerous cat, I would say take caution in what he says and does.