Dusk Syndicate Clearing

[Cosmo]

Originally Posted by CandyFlossCat

"Fine" Obsidian sighed, amazed how resilient and irritating this cat was.

Nettle mouthed a silent 'Yes!', she was doing a good job annoying this cat. She wasn't irritated by the cat, she was irritating the cat. It sent a tingly feeling of warmth down her spine. Now if she could maybe do a little more than annoy her. "Thanks." Nettle replied, her voice thickly layered with fake sweetness.

[wickedvirtues]

Originally Posted by Little Bird

Nettle mouthed a silent 'Yes!', she was doing a good job annoying this cat. She wasn't irritated by the cat, she was irritating the cat. It sent a tingly feeling of warmth down her spine. Now if she could maybe do a little more than annoy her. "Thanks." Nettle replied, her voice thickly layered with fake sweetness.

Obsidian gritted her teeth. "No problem!" She purred with the same fake kindness, eyes blazing.

[Cosmo]

Originally Posted by CandyFlossCat

Obsidian gritted her teeth. "No problem!" She purred with the same fake kindness, eyes blazing.

Lovely! The cat was now copying her! Nettle decided it was pointless to get mad. She gave her a fake smile. Then, nudged her, not gently, not violently. Just nudged her.

[wickedvirtues]

Originally Posted by Little Bird

Lovely! The cat was now copying her! Nettle decided it was pointless to get mad. She gave her a fake smile. Then, nudged her, not gently, not violently. Just nudged her.

'Ignore her, she goes away.... maybe.' She thought, giving no reaction. Perhaps she'd bore and leave her alone.
(or.... nahhhhhhhh XD. This'll go on forever)

[Cosmo]

Originally Posted by CandyFlossCat

'Ignore her, she goes away.... maybe.' She thought, giving no reaction. Perhaps she'd bore and leave her alone.
(or.... nahhhhhhhh XD. This'll go on forever)

Nettle shrugged, when she noticed the cat was ignoring her. She decided it was pointless to waste her time on the other molly. Nettle turned and padded away.

[wickedvirtues]

Originally Posted by Little Bird

Nettle shrugged, when she noticed the cat was ignoring her. She decided it was pointless to waste her time on the other molly. Nettle turned and padded away.

(And, end le RP)
Obsidian, glad, walked in the opposite direction.

[RedHead]

Originally Posted by Nighty

Cassius didn't exactly believe Donivan when he said Lilith and Onyx would work out later. He didn't think so. His other siblings had told them they had fought before, but not like this. It was a bit scary, not knowing what was wrong with your parents. He didn't understand why they were so angry at each other. But his thoughts were pulled away as Donovan continued. He followed to where his friend pointed his paw. He managed to stifle a snicker as he told him of the prank he had pulled. "Nice one!" He commented in an excited whisper. "Can we do something fun like that now? I want to help you this time." He purred slightly. He hadn't really done something like that before, most of his fun consisting of romping around with Onyx. Now it was time he had some more fun.Donovan wasn't done though, and Cassius reigned himself back in. "You, a kit? Pffft no, you're too big to be a kit. And besides, is there really any harm in acting around?" He chirped in. "Hunters are just something we have to have. It's for the weaker ones who can't fight, gives them something to do. The best go to be fighters. Like me! I'm going to be a fighter when I become a Trainee!" He flashed a proud grin to his companion. "Just like my Dad, then Onyx said we could patrol and fight together, just us if I wanted."

Donovan was pleased when Cassius wanted to do something mischievous as well. The Abyssian had always wanted a partner in crime, and in a way, Cassius was kind of like that. He just had to learn and get a little older. Donovan listened to Cassius combat the words of other cars he had told him. "Thank you! At least someone understands!" He meowed, flashing Cassius a smirk. Donovan believed that hunters were kind of just throwaway cats. They were there to feed the Syndicate, but otherwise bore no other purpose. Fighters were the cats who kept the Sybdicate strong and mighty. Except for their recent defeat, the battle against Skyclan. Donovan absolutely hated those tree-huggers. They were no better than squirrels, the way they climbed through the trees. And squirrels are prey. Oh, Donovan would make sure that Skyclan paid for thier actions. Maybe not all of Skyclan, but at least a few cats. The tom had already been thinking up something ever since their defeat to cause some mishap for some Skyclan cats. This time, it may even include a murder. "I am positive you are going to be a great fighter Cassius. Maybe even better then you'd dad one day, huh?" The fighter meowed, giving a suggestive smile to the younger cat.
Then Donovan was right back to business. "Okay, so I think my next act of trouble will include some brambles, moss, and ferns." He snickered, flicking his ears over to a bramble patch at the very edge of camp. "We could remake the nest of one of the hunters, or maybe even an older, grouchy fighter. But we make it out of brambles, then disguise it with moss and ferns. So the next time they lay in it..." Donovan unsheathed his claws and turned them upwards, a mischevious grin on his maw. "They'll have to spend a day in the healer's den, getting thorns plucked out of thier pelt."

[meraki]

@Duskflight

The Dusk Syndicate was far different than what Maple had imagined. Far, far different. She'd imagined piles of bones of cats stacked upon eachother, bloodied cats with guts spilling out as they screeched in pain from the healers' den. But no. It seemed like an ordinary camp- one without much control or rules. And a lot of rude shouting. Maple couldn't tell whether she was thankful or disappointed, but either way, she felt adreniline rushing through her blood. She'd killed a cat. Her eyes glinted as she recalled the powerful sensation of holding the life of another in her claws, before she slit the loner's throat, but not before enjoying the entire thing.
Maple recalled the light dimming from their eyes as if it'd happened only seconds before, and she smiled to herself as the wonderful memory warmed her from head to toe. She felt at home in the Dusk Syndicate. They were merciless. Powerful. Not cowardly like the clans. Of course, being from the clans proved to be a bit of a struggle, as she was given many taunts and rude slang due to her birthplace. But Maple didn't care in the slightest. No one else in ShadowClan cared. Her father had killed her mother after she was born- the rest of the kits had died at birth. She was the strongest right from the start. Her father was not a clan cat, rather, a rogue from off the streets. Another queen had raised Maple, but she was weak. Too sweet and naive. Once Maple reached apprenticehood, she avoided her foster mother as much as she could, so her foster mother's softness wouldn't rub off into her.

When Maple had discovered the Dusk Syndicate, it was the best thing to happen to her. They were like her- no one in her clan understood that. It wasn't like Maple had any friends, but it wasn't like she often talked about her interest for the Dusk Syndicate. In fact, she seemed completely normal. She was good at faking. Wearing a mask to hide her madness. No one would understand, so what was the point in trying to get them to?
After many moons of the images of her mother's murder playing out in her head, and after many moons of that slowly driving her to what seemed like insanity, her brain seemed to shut down on itself. At least part of it. Maple figured that, in order to not ever hurt, one must not feel. This worked, and in fact, she grew to be not sociopathic, more like just slightly psychotic. She felt, but did not show it, as Maple had always been very good at pretending.

This is what she thought about as she waited to meet her mentor. Maple had been given absolutely no information about the cat, or how she'd know it was them when she met them. But no matter. Maple was in the Dusk Syndicate now, and here, they seemed to have near to no rules. If she didn't like her mentor, perhaps they'd be killed horrifically by a rabid badger when they'd gotten to close to the den, and Maple had just barely got by, with only a few scratches.

[The Cannibal]

Originally Posted by meraki

@Duskflight

The Dusk Syndicate was far different than what Maple had imagined. Far, far different. She'd imagined piles of bones of cats stacked upon eachother, bloodied cats with guts spilling out as they screeched in pain from the healers' den. But no. It seemed like an ordinary camp- one without much control or rules. And a lot of rude shouting. Maple couldn't tell whether she was thankful or disappointed, but either way, she felt adreniline rushing through her blood. She'd killed a cat. Her eyes glinted as she recalled the powerful sensation of holding the life of another in her claws, before she slit the loner's throat, but not before enjoying the entire thing.
Maple recalled the light dimming from their eyes as if it'd happened only seconds before, and she smiled to herself as the wonderful memory warmed her from head to toe. She felt at home in the Dusk Syndicate. They were merciless. Powerful. Not cowardly like the clans. Of course, being from the clans proved to be a bit of a struggle, as she was given many taunts and rude slang due to her birthplace. But Maple didn't care in the slightest. No one else in ShadowClan cared. Her father had killed her mother after she was born- the rest of the kits had died at birth. She was the strongest right from the start. Her father was not a clan cat, rather, a rogue from off the streets. Another queen had raised Maple, but she was weak. Too sweet and naive. Once Maple reached apprenticehood, she avoided her foster mother as much as she could, so her foster mother's softness wouldn't rub off into her.

When Maple had discovered the Dusk Syndicate, it was the best thing to happen to her. They were like her- no one in her clan understood that. It wasn't like Maple had any friends, but it wasn't like she often talked about her interest for the Dusk Syndicate. In fact, she seemed completely normal. She was good at faking. Wearing a mask to hide her madness. No one would understand, so what was the point in trying to get them to?
After many moons of the images of her mother's murder playing out in her head, and after many moons of that slowly driving her to what seemed like insanity, her brain seemed to shut down on itself. At least part of it. Maple figured that, in order to not ever hurt, one must not feel. This worked, and in fact, she grew to be not sociopathic, more like just slightly psychotic. She felt, but did not show it, as Maple had always been very good at pretending.

This is what she thought about as she waited to meet her mentor. Maple had been given absolutely no information about the cat, or how she'd know it was them when she met them. But no matter. Maple was in the Dusk Syndicate now, and here, they seemed to have near to no rules. If she didn't like her mentor, perhaps they'd be killed horrifically by a rabid badger when they'd gotten to close to the den, and Maple had just barely got by, with only a few scratches.

It was time again, it seems his last incident with his trainee had been forgiven, or perhaps forgotten and he was now able to take on a new one. It was more of an annoyance more than anything, having to deal with a younger cat for several moons, not that he could really feel annoyed, but it could also be a very interesting time to study things. Young minds were always the easiest to mold for they were still growing and weren't quite so concrete yet. They were like a mostly blank canvas that could be painted into the most exquisite of masterpieces given the right time and the right tools and Hannibal most certainly had the right tools and all of the time in the world. However, if he grew tired of this, or if it didn't go quite as well as he wished, he could very easily end it. Hera wouldn't be here to stop him this time. And if he ended up being banished from the Syndicate? It wouldn't at all matter from him. There was nothing here anyways, nothing but shambles. A broken husk of what used to be a thriving, powerful community, now it was just home to atrocious loners. Perhaps he would leave soon. But not before he was done with this new trainee.
It was time to meet her.
Maple I believe is what her name is. She did well on her test I recall, had no problem in ending a cats life but that's truly nothing. Cat's believe that is hard and truthfully, it's as easy as ending a mouse. A shame that that's one of the tests to become a Syndicate member really.

Flicking his tail as if flicking his thoughts away, his fiery gaze fixated onto the cat that was now his trainee, before he was even there he was evaluating her with those emotionless, dead orbs. With each pawstep his claws glinted in the sunlight, his lithe, lean-muscles shape easily making it's way towards her with measured, precise steps, head held evenly and a completely neutral face worn. Today was not a day that he felt like trying on emotions, that could be for another time, now was the time to evaluate her and get a little bit of information. A good basis on knowledge on this young cat.
Regardless, the dark grey tom continued his approach towards Maple, his nose bringing in her scent as he got closer.
That's interesting.. Where did she come from? I dare say that's a very faint clan smell on her pelt.. However I could be wrong. It could be simply the smell of mud. I'll get the answer to this question through her training, but certainly one to keep in mind. And Maple.. Maple now that's an interesting name for a loner, though I suppose they always have varying names. But I dare say that that almost sounds like the prefix for a clan name.. They always do seem to take on those of some sort of naturalistic element, birds, plants, things of the sort.. Ah. Something to be pondered on at a later time.

"Greetings young cat. Might I inquire if your name is Maple? If so, I believe I am your trainer."
The tom's head dipped slightly but his gaze never faltered from her, they were fixated right onto her eyes, watching very closely for whatever might show up there. You could always get so much information out of another cat's eyes. Emotions, sometimes even what they could be thinking. And that's why emotions were dangerous. They could give away the slightest of things and with a cat like Hannibal, that could mean your demise.
You do not want a cat like Hannibal in your head.

[meraki]

Originally Posted by Duskflight

It was time again, it seems his last incident with his trainee had been forgiven, or perhaps forgotten and he was now able to take on a new one. It was more of an annoyance more than anything, having to deal with a younger cat for several moons, not that he could really feel annoyed, but it could also be a very interesting time to study things. Young minds were always the easiest to mold for they were still growing and weren't quite so concrete yet. They were like a mostly blank canvas that could be painted into the most exquisite of masterpieces given the right time and the right tools and Hannibal most certainly had the right tools and all of the time in the world. However, if he grew tired of this, or if it didn't go quite as well as he wished, he could very easily end it. Hera wouldn't be here to stop him this time. And if he ended up being banished from the Syndicate? It wouldn't at all matter from him. There was nothing here anyways, nothing but shambles. A broken husk of what used to be a thriving, powerful community, now it was just home to atrocious loners. Perhaps he would leave soon. But not before he was done with this new trainee.
It was time to meet her.
Maple I believe is what her name is. She did well on her test I recall, had no problem in ending a cats life but that's truly nothing. Cat's believe that is hard and truthfully, it's as easy as ending a mouse. A shame that that's one of the tests to become a Syndicate member really.

Flicking his tail as if flicking his thoughts away, his fiery gaze fixated onto the cat that was now his trainee, before he was even there he was evaluating her with those emotionless, dead orbs. With each pawstep his claws glinted in the sunlight, his lithe, lean-muscles shape easily making it's way towards her with measured, precise steps, head held evenly and a completely neutral face worn. Today was not a day that he felt like trying on emotions, that could be for another time, now was the time to evaluate her and get a little bit of information. A good basis on knowledge on this young cat.
Regardless, the dark grey tom continued his approach towards Maple, his nose bringing in her scent as he got closer.
That's interesting.. Where did she come from? I dare say that's a very faint clan smell on her pelt.. However I could be wrong. It could be simply the smell of mud. I'll get the answer to this question through her training, but certainly one to keep in mind. And Maple.. Maple now that's an interesting name for a loner, though I suppose they always have varying names. But I dare say that that almost sounds like the prefix for a clan name.. They always do seem to take on those of some sort of naturalistic element, birds, plants, things of the sort.. Ah. Something to be pondered on at a later time.

"Greetings young cat. Might I inquire if your name is Maple? If so, I believe I am your trainer."
The tom's head dipped slightly but his gaze never faltered from her, they were fixated right onto her eyes, watching very closely for whatever might show up there. You could always get so much information out of another cat's eyes. Emotions, sometimes even what they could be thinking. And that's why emotions were dangerous. They could give away the slightest of things and with a cat like Hannibal, that could mean your demise.
You do not want a cat like Hannibal in your head.

The young calico cat was startled out of her head by a voice that she hadn't ever heard. A rather deep voice that belonged to a tom, middle aged most likely. It was interesting, how hard it is to perfectly imagine a new voice in your head you've never heard, but once you hear a new voice, it's not at all startling. Maple glanced in the direction of the voice, and her firey amber gaze fell upon the dark, ash grey colour of Hannibals short pelt. His own fire-like eyes fell upon her, seeming to show absolutely no emotion whatsoever. She blinked, and repeated his words in her head.
"Hello, and yes, my name is Maple. I believe you are my mento- trainer." She meowed in a false friendly tone, correcting herself quickly. She wasn't used to the slang of the Dusk Syndicate, and the foreign words would take some getting used to, although Maple had no problem with change, as she was aware of the fact that she was a mere speck in the clans that was there for no purpose, just like every other car in the glands and Syndicate. But it just so happened that some cats decided to do different things with the tiny amount of time they were given to live. Some waste theirs. Others, like those in the Dusk Syndicate, did not. Maple did not believe in an afterlife or so called StarClan. The thought of it made her feel her IQ lower. No, she believed in what was there. She believed that if you've got only one chance to live, you might as well accomplish something before time runs out.

Maple then turned her attention back to the new cat who smelled of the Dusk Syndicate, but with a hint of something... different. He seemed normal enough, although there was something about him that just seemed a little off. Like he was missing something, but a quick glance showed he had all limbs in tact. But this sudden knowledge of something nor being right made her curious to find out what it was, and perhaps she'd figure that out during their moon's of training.
"May I ask your name?" Maple asked in that false polite tone, a tone she faked when meeting new cats.