Dusk Syndicate Territory

[The Cannibal]

Originally Posted by JaxenAmethyst

(Do you mind if I join this? Or just kinda.. barge in? Can Broken and Hannibal be brothers? Unless Hannibal is a girl.. then Brother/Sister?)

(I'd prefer not, I wanted to keep this one just to me and fire if you didn't mind ^^; And Hannibal already has a sibling unfortunately so that would have to be a no as well, my apologies :c)

[JaxenAmethyst]

Originally Posted by Duskflight

(I'd prefer not, I wanted to keep this one just to me and fire if you didn't mind ^^; And Hannibal already has a sibling unfortunately so that would have to be a no as well, my apologies :c)

Okay x3 Just wanted to ask. Glad I did because If I barged in, that would've been really rude.

[The Cannibal]

Originally Posted by JaxenAmethyst

Okay x3 Just wanted to ask. Glad I did because If I barged in, that would've been really rude.

(Yes, thank you for asking, I really appreciate it! )

[meraki]

Originally Posted by Duskflight

{It's alright! :^D}

As Jamie said this, Hannibal said nothing, he simply just seemed to nod his head a bit and offer no sort of comment or questioning on it because he quite simply didn't care, he could very like piece together what the tom meant, or very close to what the tom meant.
With Jamie being so open, Hannibal was able to gather valuable information in a short amount of time which was better than taking moons upon moons to dig and build friendships in order to get information, not that the tom cared either way, Hannibal would wait for many years to gather information if he had to, it didn't matter to him because he had an infinite amount of patience.
At hearing the other cat's comment, that false smiled curled onto his lips, such an empty and meaningless gesture and yet, it could instill fear in others. Hardly ever did that smile make any cat feel welcome or happy. "Thank you for the warning." In all truth, Hannibal didn't care about the warning and he wasn't scared of Malcolm, Hannibal wasn't scared of anything, he was virtually incapable of feeling fear. And he was fairly positive that he could very easily take down this 'Malcolm' if it ever came down to it, he was still in the body of this cat before him, the only thing that would be different from Jamie would be the fact that he was in a blind rage and ready to kill. That would be the only difference. These thoughts weren't cocky, Hannibal wasn't an arrogant cat, he simply made observations and predictions.
The dark grey tom blinked slowly as he heard Jamie's response to his tips, the tip of his tail flicking lightly.
"The fact that you suggested that Malcolm would 'kill me' if I was making fun of another or bullying suggests that this other personality is extremely violent and would be considered psychopathic, considering the Syndicate, all you have to do is look around the camp and you'll find six different examples of one cat berating another, 'bullying' them as you put it. Then I can very easily guess that you are a killer, I'm no an idiot, I have watched other cats disappear and know it's not my work and I have to say, I believe I've discovered your scent around a few of the remains that I've found. So yes, while you, your current personality is not a killer, there is one inside of you and I suggest that you take quick note of the tips I give you or else you will get caught. But then again. The choice is up to you, it truly doesn't matter to me what you do. The only time it matters is when you cross my path in the wrong way."
This last sentence was practically dripping with malicious and malevolent intent and yet Hannibal's face had not an ounce of anything there, he was simply looking at Jamie, as relaxed as ever, as if he were simply talking about how the prey was running.

Jamie nodded his "you're welcome," to Hannibal, looking down at his paws. A feeling had washed over him, one he didn't feel too much of- guilt. As he listened to Hannibal, overwhelming guilt washed over him completely. All those deaths-every single one, they were because of me, weren't they? He thought, feeling rather sick as he thought. I keep blaming Malcolm, but I AM Malcolm. I'm a killer. I'm the one who killed all of those innocent cats. He thought in horror.
And Jamie knew, that deep, deep inside his head, Malcolm was listening to Hannibal's gruesome advice. Jamie knew that he'd be taking these ideas into consideration.
Maybe Hannibal didn't care too much about Jamie's problem, he was certain off that. Hannibal, throughout all of their conversation, hadn't seemed to show a single feeling or emotion, and Jamie had begun to question how real those empty smiles were. Jamie was beginning to realize a lot of things.
Hannibal did not care in the slightest. The majority of the rumors were true, only a murderer would give that kind of advice. Of course, Jamie didn't know, and likely never would know, if this sociopathic cat really was cannibalistic. And Jamie had no intent to find out.
Hannibal's advice was scaring him, right to his bones, and he knew that Hannibal could see right through him, and know how Jamie was feeling. As Jamie listened more, he was tuned in to the words, "Not my work," and then, the malicious sentence, the one that scared him most of all. Jamie, now, wants very, very nervous. He silently wished that he was not the one in control, and a much stronger personality was. But all the while, Malcolm was listening, and Jamie knew it.

[The Cannibal]

Originally Posted by fire ♡

Jamie nodded his "you're welcome," to Hannibal, looking down at his paws. A feeling had washed over him, one he didn't feel too much of- guilt. As he listened to Hannibal, overwhelming guilt washed over him completely. All those deaths-every single one, they were because of me, weren't they? He thought, feeling rather sick as he thought. I keep blaming Malcolm, but I AM Malcolm. I'm a killer. I'm the one who killed all of those innocent cats. He thought in horror.
And Jamie knew, that deep, deep inside his head, Malcolm was listening to Hannibal's gruesome advice. Jamie knew that he'd be taking these ideas into consideration.
Maybe Hannibal didn't care too much about Jamie's problem, he was certain off that. Hannibal, throughout all of their conversation, hadn't seemed to show a single feeling or emotion, and Jamie had begun to question how real those empty smiles were. Jamie was beginning to realize a lot of things.
Hannibal did not care in the slightest. The majority of the rumors were true, only a murderer would give that kind of advice. Of course, Jamie didn't know, and likely never would know, if this sociopathic cat really was cannibalistic. And Jamie had no intent to find out.
Hannibal's advice was scaring him, right to his bones, and he knew that Hannibal could see right through him, and know how Jamie was feeling. As Jamie listened more, he was tuned in to the words, "Not my work," and then, the malicious sentence, the one that scared him most of all. Jamie, now, wants very, very nervous. He silently wished that he was not the one in control, and a much stronger personality was. But all the while, Malcolm was listening, and Jamie knew it.

It wasn't very hard for the older tom to pick up on the emotion that was coming off of the other cat, while he couldn't feel them himself, he could understand them very well and knew that the one that was practically radiating off of Jamie, was guilt. But why? That's the thing Hannibal had trouble understanding. Was why cats felt the way he did, that's why he always observed others, so that he could perhaps answer this question. Perhaps it's because he realizes that he is still the one responsible for those killings? And he feels.. Guilty about it? Strange, but I believe I've encountered other cats, at least a few, that have given off this emotion as well after killing a cat. But why? I don't understand. And it's not like any cat could answer Hannibal, how were you supposed to explain your emotions? Especially to a cat who couldn't feel them? And so he never even bothered asking another, not that he every actually cared about another cat long enough to even consider asking them a question that has been caught in his mind.
Sweeping the question away for another day, Hannibal instead began to analyze Jamie some more, searching for some other emotions that might be there, a hint at these 'other personalities' that this other cat had. It was very intriguing. And yet? He showed nothing. There was absolutely nothing on his face.
As the conversation came to a stop, Hannibal picked up on the nervousness the other tom was giving off, his demeanor not changing at all, nothing about Hannibal had changed since the moment he had started speaking to this other tom.
But this time, he wanted to be direct in his questioning, he was curious of how the other tom would respond, what his answer would be.
"Why are you all of a sudden nervous. Do you think I'm going to kill you? Gut you right here in the middle of the territory where no other cat can hear you yowl until your last breath?" His head seemed to lean forward, but in actuality Hannibal hadn't moved at all, though there seemed to be a flicker of something strange in his eyes. "Do you think I followed you out here to get you alone because I know that no one else is around at the moment, giving me the perfect time to end your miserable life right now? Just gathering some information before spilling your blood as effortlessly as ending the life of a mouse?"

"Is that why you're nervous?"

[meraki]

Originally Posted by Duskflight

It wasn't very hard for the older tom to pick up on the emotion that was coming off of the other cat, while he couldn't feel them himself, he could understand them very well and knew that the one that was practically radiating off of Jamie, was guilt. But why? That's the thing Hannibal had trouble understanding. Was why cats felt the way he did, that's why he always observed others, so that he could perhaps answer this question. Perhaps it's because he realizes that he is still the one responsible for those killings? And he feels.. Guilty about it? Strange, but I believe I've encountered other cats, at least a few, that have given off this emotion as well after killing a cat. But why? I don't understand. And it's not like any cat could answer Hannibal, how were you supposed to explain your emotions? Especially to a cat who couldn't feel them? And so he never even bothered asking another, not that he every actually cared about another cat long enough to even consider asking them a question that has been caught in his mind.
Sweeping the question away for another day, Hannibal instead began to analyze Jamie some more, searching for some other emotions that might be there, a hint at these 'other personalities' that this other cat had. It was very intriguing. And yet? He showed nothing. There was absolutely nothing on his face.
As the conversation came to a stop, Hannibal picked up on the nervousness the other tom was giving off, his demeanor not changing at all, nothing about Hannibal had changed since the moment he had started speaking to this other tom.
But this time, he wanted to be direct in his questioning, he was curious of how the other tom would respond, what his answer would be.
"Why are you all of a sudden nervous. Do you think I'm going to kill you? Gut you right here in the middle of the territory where no other cat can hear you yowl until your last breath?" His head seemed to lean forward, but in actuality Hannibal hadn't moved at all, though there seemed to be a flicker of something strange in his eyes. "Do you think I followed you out here to get you alone because I know that no one else is around at the moment, giving me the perfect time to end your miserable life right now? Just gathering some information before spilling your blood as effortlessly as ending the life of a mouse?"

"Is that why you're nervous?"

Jamie was busy in his head. Very busy. Thoughts were flying in and out of his brain faster than he could find answers to them. Jamie looked up from him paws to see that Hannibal continued to show no emotion. None at all, like a stone statue of a cat. A small bit of sympathy for the other cat sprouted inside of him. It must be awful, having no feelings. He thought, yet he also pondered if it really wasn't so bad.
It wasn't like Jamie was fond of having so many emotions, maybe Hannibal didn't care. But it would be hard to care if you didn't have feelings. It wasn't like he could explain feelings to Hannibal. That was like describing a color to a blind cat. Pointless. All the same, Jamie couldn't help the small amount of sympathy he had for Hannibal.
So lost in his thoughts, he'd almost forgot about the terror he'd experienced not even a minute ago. While all evidence was pointing to the fact that Hannibal really was a sociopathic killer and possible cannibal, Jamie refused to believe that Hannibal had come to murder him. This tom was smart, very smart. Too smart to not have a reason behind killing. After all, he'd been the one to mention that Malcolm would likely have a reason behind his killings. Who was to say that Hannibal did too?
Jamie couldn't think of any reason for Hannibal to murder him, he'd been plenty kind to this cat, suspicious maybe, but not mean to him. Maybe he's not here to hurt me, he thought.
It was Hannibal's voice that startled him back to reality and out of the depths of his mind.
He spoke so descriptively, Jamie could almost imagine the dark grey cat killing him right here in the dark and secluded territory. Jamie could imagine his own body, laying bloody on the snowy forest floor with red stained snow surrounding him as the white flakes would cover him until he could be seen no more. Hannibal was right. No one would be able to hear him yowl, not even st the top of his lungs.
Jamie would lay, buried beneath the freezing snow until newleaf, when the snow would melt away and reveal the light grey body shared by the six personalities. No one would be sad. Not one would mourn. Heck, he'd probably not even be found. His body would decompose, and it would appear that Jamie had just vanished out of the blue. No one would ever know his name. No one.
Jamie looked up at Hannibal, meeting his flaming orange gaze.
"I did think that would be the case," he replied truthfully. "But you don't seem to be one to kill without reason. You're much to intelligent to do that.
None would hear me howl, you're correct, but it would seem suspicious if someone had noticed your disappearance minutes after mine. On top of the many rumors, it would make cats watch you closer, and you wouldn't risk that.
I believe that the rumors of you being a killer are true, but I have no evidence of you being a cannibal. And me turning you in to the Commander would be rather hypocritical of me, don't you think?" Jamie said, speaking with more bravery than he had been.

(whoa this is actually pretty long ^^ this might be one of my longest posts haha)

[The Cannibal]

Originally Posted by fire ♡

Jamie was busy in his head. Very busy. Thoughts were flying in and out of his brain faster than he could find answers to them. Jamie looked up from him paws to see that Hannibal continued to show no emotion. None at all, like a stone statue of a cat. A small bit of sympathy for the other cat sprouted inside of him. It must be awful, having no feelings. He thought, yet he also pondered if it really wasn't so bad.
It wasn't like Jamie was fond of having so many emotions, maybe Hannibal didn't care. But it would be hard to care if you didn't have feelings. It wasn't like he could explain feelings to Hannibal. That was like describing a color to a blind cat. Pointless. All the same, Jamie couldn't help the small amount of sympathy he had for Hannibal.
So lost in his thoughts, he'd almost forgot about the terror he'd experienced not even a minute ago. While all evidence was pointing to the fact that Hannibal really was a sociopathic killer and possible cannibal, Jamie refused to believe that Hannibal had come to murder him. This tom was smart, very smart. Too smart to not have a reason behind killing. After all, he'd been the one to mention that Malcolm would likely have a reason behind his killings. Who was to say that Hannibal did too?
Jamie couldn't think of any reason for Hannibal to murder him, he'd been plenty kind to this cat, suspicious maybe, but not mean to him. Maybe he's not here to hurt me, he thought.
It was Hannibal's voice that startled him back to reality and out of the depths of his mind.
He spoke so descriptively, Jamie could almost imagine the dark grey cat killing him right here in the dark and secluded territory. Jamie could imagine his own body, laying bloody on the snowy forest floor with red stained snow surrounding him as the white flakes would cover him until he could be seen no more. Hannibal was right. No one would be able to hear him yowl, not even st the top of his lungs.
Jamie would lay, buried beneath the freezing snow until newleaf, when the snow would melt away and reveal the light grey body shared by the six personalities. No one would be sad. Not one would mourn. Heck, he'd probably not even be found. His body would decompose, and it would appear that Jamie had just vanished out of the blue. No one would ever know his name. No one.
Jamie looked up at Hannibal, meeting his flaming orange gaze.
"I did think that would be the case," he replied truthfully. "But you don't seem to be one to kill without reason. You're much to intelligent to do that.
None would hear me howl, you're correct, but it would seem suspicious if someone had noticed your disappearance minutes after mine. On top of the many rumors, it would make cats watch you closer, and you wouldn't risk that.
I believe that the rumors of you being a killer are true, but I have no evidence of you being a cannibal. And me turning you in to the Commander would be rather hypocritical of me, don't you think?" Jamie said, speaking with more bravery than he had been.

(whoa this is actually pretty long ^^ this might be one of my longest posts haha)

Truly, Jamie wouldn't have been the first cat to feel sympathetic for the tom and his lack of emotions, there have been a pawful of cats who have given the tom sympathy. Not that it mattered in any way to him. He simply ignored the pity and sympathy he was given, it did nothing for him, it didn't change anything and it held no meaning, it was a useless emotion. Some emotions were useful, they could get cats to do things, but what did sympathy do? Absolutely nothing. That's how Hannibal thought about it, and he had been thinking about it for a long time. Some emotions were useful and he had learned to mimic these emotions, but there were also emotions that did absolutely nothing and so he elected to not learn how to replicate them. He would never show an inkling of sympathy for anyone.
The dark grey tom was practically teasing the fact that he was a killer, dancing around it while not directly saying it, giving every little detail that he could very well be one while not out right confessing. Not that it mattered if he confessed or not, it truly didn't. There were so many cats in the Syndicate that feared him that it wouldn't matter if he confessed or not. Even the commander himself was scared of Hannibal, he had sensed it the first day that Halite had stepped onto that mound.
This conversation he was having with this other tom would prove to be interesting, much more interesting than the small talk he forced himself to have in order to gain another cats trust in turn for information. Much more interesting indeed.
When Hannibal spoke, he spoke clearly, painting the scene so delicately and precisely as if it were a memory so clear in his mind. And it could very well be a memory of his if he wanted it to be. If he decided for a single moment that he was wasting his time keeping Jamie around for information and that he was a danger, he could do just as he said. Very easily too. Hannibal kept his hues of hellfire focused directly on the tom with split personalities, not even blinking as the other tom decided to speak up in turn, a reaction he was not expecting and found very intriguing. Perhaps he's not as weak minded as I originally thought. Lets play then.
"Oh but you don't know me dear sir. You've only just met me and so it would be very unlikely for you to know anything more about me than the rumors or I myself have let on, so I would say tread carefully or you may find yourself in dangerous territory. You don't even know if I'm an actual killer, so wouldn't you think it would be a far stretch to determine if I kill randomly or precisely?" His head tilted slightly as if in question but his face remained an impenetrable mask.
"And I'm sorry Jamie, but no one noticed you leave. Because no one notices you. And they surely don't care when I leave, they're just glad to have me gone. I went to the clans and back and not a single cat mentioned it and I've been visiting Skyclan recently as well. You see Jamie? No one cares what I do, so long as I leave them alone, they don't mind. So no. They would not find it suspicious, your death would go unnoticed, there's too many cats in the Syndicate to care about a single death of a cat that anyone hardly knew." His head returned to the upright state, no longer cocked slightly to the side as if in question.
"Halite would not do a thing because, now come closer, I have a secret for you dear Jamie." Now this time, his head does lean in slightly closer.
"Halite is scared of me just like every other. He would not care.

[meraki]

Originally Posted by Duskflight

Truly, Jamie wouldn't have been the first cat to feel sympathetic for the tom and his lack of emotions, there have been a pawful of cats who have given the tom sympathy. Not that it mattered in any way to him. He simply ignored the pity and sympathy he was given, it did nothing for him, it didn't change anything and it held no meaning, it was a useless emotion. Some emotions were useful, they could get cats to do things, but what did sympathy do? Absolutely nothing. That's how Hannibal thought about it, and he had been thinking about it for a long time. Some emotions were useful and he had learned to mimic these emotions, but there were also emotions that did absolutely nothing and so he elected to not learn how to replicate them. He would never show an inkling of sympathy for anyone.
The dark grey tom was practically teasing the fact that he was a killer, dancing around it while not directly saying it, giving every little detail that he could very well be one while not out right confessing. Not that it mattered if he confessed or not, it truly didn't. There were so many cats in the Syndicate that feared him that it wouldn't matter if he confessed or not. Even the commander himself was scared of Hannibal, he had sensed it the first day that Halite had stepped onto that mound.
This conversation he was having with this other tom would prove to be interesting, much more interesting than the small talk he forced himself to have in order to gain another cats trust in turn for information. Much more interesting indeed.
When Hannibal spoke, he spoke clearly, painting the scene so delicately and precisely as if it were a memory so clear in his mind. And it could very well be a memory of his if he wanted it to be. If he decided for a single moment that he was wasting his time keeping Jamie around for information and that he was a danger, he could do just as he said. Very easily too. Hannibal kept his hues of hellfire focused directly on the tom with split personalities, not even blinking as the other tom decided to speak up in turn, a reaction he was not expecting and found very intriguing. Perhaps he's not as weak minded as I originally thought. Lets play then.
"Oh but you don't know me dear sir. You've only just met me and so it would be very unlikely for you to know anything more about me than the rumors or I myself have let on, so I would say tread carefully or you may find yourself in dangerous territory. You don't even know if I'm an actual killer, so wouldn't you think it would be a far stretch to determine if I kill randomly or precisely?" His head tilted slightly as if in question but his face remained an impenetrable mask.
"And I'm sorry Jamie, but no one noticed you leave. Because no one notices you. And they surely don't care when I leave, they're just glad to have me gone. I went to the clans and back and not a single cat mentioned it and I've been visiting Skyclan recently as well. You see Jamie? No one cares what I do, so long as I leave them alone, they don't mind. So no. They would not find it suspicious, your death would go unnoticed, there's too many cats in the Syndicate to care about a single death of a cat that anyone hardly knew." His head returned to the upright state, no longer cocked slightly to the side as if in question.
"Halite would not do a thing because, now come closer, I have a secret for you dear Jamie." Now this time, his head does lean in slightly closer.
"Halite is scared of me just like every other. He would not care.

Jamie's slight sympathy for Hannibal seemed to disappear as an unusual feeling for him sprouted in his chest- anger. Jamie was the most kind, friendly, and innocent of the personalities, so this was all very new to him. Jamie's fur fluffed up a little bit in anger, and his pale, honey colored gaze narrowed a bit, although the fear from earlier was coming back.
Hannibal's words stung, and he actually flinched as if the words actually hurt. Jamie bit his tongue before he could say something offensive to Hannibal. He still didn't know what this cat deemed a murder victim, or if he even chose for a reason.
Jamie shifted uncomfortably, wanting to just go back to the clearing. He couldn't shake the bad feeling. He was alone in the forest with a murderer. Not the safest place to be, and it wasn't like he was in a good position. He was Jamie. Jamie never hurt anybody. Never.
Jamie frowned, avoiding Hannibal's gaze. "You don't know me either," he said nervously. "I don't want to pick a fight. I never do." Jamie said.
Then, adding onto his last comment, he said, "You may think you know tons about me already, probably by the way I sit, or the way I speak, or even the way I look around. You can probably tell a lot about a cat by what they do.
But you don't know everything. There's more to a cat than what you think. You probably see us as dumb things that walk around and are too emotional to function.
It's probably easier without emotions right? But that's not always true. All I'm saying is that your lack of sentimentality for others will be your downfall, you know."
Jamie said, trying as best he could to not offend Hannibal, but he also did want to stand up for himself.
"And you're wrong about Haltie," Jamie added. "He's got great potential and could grow to be a great leader someday. And it's good to have fears. It keeps us aware of things that could hurt us, so we know to avoid them." He said. "Not, good day to you, but I'll be going now." Jamie said with a small amount of force, just to imply that he wasn't just some dumb, overempathetic kit, and started to pad away, back to the clearing.

[The Mad Katter]

Thistle stalked into the forest with her head and tail high. She knew exactly where she was going, due to her mother's stories. Feeling a twinge of longing, she pushed it away, choosing to focus on the task at hand. Thistle's grey and white pelt rippled with excitement as she ventured deeper into the trees.

[seasalt]

Originally Posted by fenic!

"Kidnapping?" Eris' eyes widened for a second, especially since it was known that the clans were getting stronger by the second, even if they'd been weakened by their own members about a moon ago- "Which clan have we been stealing from? Not all of them are very weak anymore, and we've got to be careful." The cats of the Dusk Syndicate didn't have compassion for parents like the clans did- they stooped low enough to take their own kits from them in order to keep the Syndicate strong and healthy, with new members. Though those of questionable morality had started joining after the clans' period of their own evil ended, they were still short on members, and needed more. "Are we gonna take any today, or just look for rouges? At least we've got the snow covering out scent." She followed after Boreas quickly out of the clearing, quite happy being the one to bring questions to the table when her friend spouted commands- not being in a position of power was a privilege of her own, really. She was an inquisitor, somebody who was there to figure things out- and where they were going was only her first question, of many.

[continue in the territory?]

@fenic!
[ booop! ]
"Yes, kidnapped kits, and an apprentice. Not sure which clans they were, but it doesn't matter, their all the same. And don't worry, they used stealth at their side." Boreas gave a nod as she slid into the forest, silence following as she stopped to stare around the territory. She didn't care much for kits, but it was worth getting them when they were very young, as they wouldn't remember much of the lives they could of have. "Hmm, for today, rogues. Kits can be whenever I feel its good for. Snow always has tracks that they can follow, if it stops snowing, it would be a very bad problem for us. However, if it keeps snowing, perfect." The co-commander commented, poking at the snow on the ice cold ground, scoffing. "Some of the others might kidnap some more kits later, but that isn't much of a problem, we need members, of course." Boreas continued, stalking forward, eyes gleaming around in the forest, giving a small, serious, but confident grin. "If a kit so happens to be out, then we snatch them, though its very unlikely they would be outside in our territory." She chuckled, tail swishing at the ground as she walked, claws unsheathing, making scraping noises. This was one of Boreas's quirks, she liked to scrap her claws on stone, or anything hard, it didn't really matter all that much.