-|Bring-me-Misery-in-a-S I L V E R-spoon|-

[Misery]

Oh the thrill of it, really. Power. Misery was hungry for it. He seemed to ignore the true hunger in his silver and black belly, having forgotten to eat for several days on end. He dreamed of power, he breathed control, he thirsted vengeance. Of course, he didn't know Bane.

Sure, he'd heard his name spoken by many. Some were stories of his terrible deeds of slaughter and rape. Some even were stories of his greatness, and how he ruled with keen knowledge and sharp contempt. But the King would not live by his namesake for Misery;

He would not be the bane of getting what he wanted.

He set a large paw upon the dusty ground, blood-stained eyes narrowed and watching every movement upon the field. There, a scent!

Bitter it was, and unknown to the tom. Cats... Of course, this was rogue meadow, where many cats of mange and disease thrived to the best of their abilities. But so many... This had to be a clan. A rogue clan? He inhaled.

Misery had arrived.

[Bane]

Misery. A fitting name, was it? As Bane caught scent of the tom upon the outskirts, all he could scent was hunger. That of metaphorical hunger for vengeance, and of course, the literal meaning. The tom gave out a sigh, hoping to some greater power this wasn't some scrounging tom, attempting to get a meal.

"Speak your business before you take another step, tom."

The voice was demanding, yet cool and sung a song only those worthy of a place in BoneClan could sing along to.[/size]

[Misery]

The voices shouted in his head. Vengeance! Power!! Control! ... Misery... He opened his eyes through bloody slits, the color striking against such a monochrome pelt of black and silver. He gave Bane a searching look, gazing him down, ears flattened in curiosity, and the need for dominance. The scars writ' upon his obsidian frame, the glaring white eye.. The shining green one, filled with every feeling imaginable.

All's that was missing was perhaps love. Pride was there, probably for his clan, his daughter.. Misery wasn't quite sure. Perhaps he did love his daughter, it was beyond Misery's comprehension. Formidable is what he appeared.

But when Misery peered at his reflection in the water, he saw bitterness, and the need for power. It was all Misery was. So maybe he had found an opponent worthy for him. Well then, he thought to himself, perhaps I have found myself a new mission.

Bane, is what I take it, He purred silkily, still gazing over the King. I came here to seek shelter with you and your clan. .. And, perhaps, meet you, He spoke these words with true contempt, every ounce of emotion gone from his words. All that remained was passion, and a strong desire to reach something.

... He sang Bane's song well.

[Bane]

Bane took a step forth from the undergrowth, examining the tom keenly, yet there was something about this tom. His blood-red eyes, something within them. There was no doubt this tom sang the song well, yet what were his hidden notions?

"The latter is achieved, tom. Speak your name."

His voice more cautious than usual, his hunger for new assassins did not overtake the need to find if these members would indeed be loyal, and were worthy of a place in his clan.

"Is shelter all you wish to gain from joining my ranks? I need loyalty tom, I am not a shelter for the homeless."[/size]

[Misery]

Indeed it has been, He replied with a smirk. He let his silver tail brush over the ground, sending a whirl of dirt flying into the air by the soft breeze. He listened intently, clung on to his every word and every motion of his thick body. He was looking for any weaknesses.

But if Bane were like they said he was, he wouldn't find any on the exterior.

He gave a laugh; it was almost mad to hear, and insane to speak. Insane as he was, he quieted quickly with his smouldering red eyes, a bigger yet smile on his maw.

Now, Bane, I am not homeless. Never have been... My home is the entire Rogue Meadows should I choose it to be, He said raspily, licking his lips with a laughing smile. I have elected to join the hierarchy of the true Rogue Clan, the only one that should be. This was actually true. Though many rogues hated that any of the rogue clans roamed what they thought of 'their' territory, Misery believed that Boneclan should be the only one to thrive. They were strong and powerful, so why not join the band wagon?

.. And if it's loyalty you need, I give you my 100 %...

[Bane]

His words... they seemed true enough. Bane had a certain skill in being able to seek what words rang true, and what words held hidden meanings, or spoke of lies. Flattery got nowhere with Bane, yet he sensed the words this tom spoke were not meant to simply flatter the BoneClan leader.

"Very well, tom. What skill do you have in assassination and fighting? And what is your name?"

A tom was no use if he was unable to battle. Though it seemed as though Bane was simply using these members as tools for battle, he did still hold significance over their lives and found it in their best interests that they were able to battle. Bane knew that many disliked him and his clan, and the threat of invasion was never completely forgotten.[/size]

[Misery]

He narrowed his eyes thoughtfully, shrinking to tiny, smouldering bloody slits as he pondered such a question. Life in Rogue Meadows is no easy feat, especially for having thrived there for many seasons long.

... If you have ever lived there, life is hard, and you either die away or adjust yourself. I adjusted myself, He said musingly, all traces of a smile gone. Life in Rogue Meadows brought back bitter memories that made him cringe everytime it passed through his mind. But he allowed them no entrance, and therefore kept face before the dark king.

I know many techniques of battle and assasination, He deemed proudly, the smile returning, but it remained modest upon his maw. It was true, he remained one of the harsher and better thriving rogues because of his talent in that department. Perhaps his senses had not so easily departed him as his mind had.

[Heartless]

Ah, but the monochrome tom had not answered one of the dark lords questions. A voice sounded from behind the great leader, cold and heartless as the she-cat herself.

“His name is Misery, Bane. He is my son.”

Slitted blue hues narrowed even more, and the she-cat stepped forward to stand beside her leader as she stared at the youngest from the first litter she had ever bore. Her brown ears flicked, sandy fur rippling over firm muscles. She…wasn’t fully sure if she felt good about Misery being here, but she was proud that the tom had managed to keep himself alive after Hannibal…drove him away.

[Misery]

Misery was about to answer the final question, opening his mouth to speak, but it was not his voice whom answered, calling out his name. In fact, it was all too recognizable....

Heartless, mother dearest, He growled stiffly, freezing. You appear to be looking.. well... he sniffed, though the same could not be said for him. He looked hungry, as if he hadn't even attempted to catch himself anything to eat. Though the fire smouldered in his eyes more than ever, it was apparent something appeared to be wrong with him... Like something had warped away at his mind.

Not to say he was unhealthy looking, or unfit for battle. Quite the contrary, his muscles were well-refined and his teeth and claws sharp as knives. Perhaps he appeared... Simply a little distracted of the sorts by something that should not be there.

He flicked his tail dismissively. Indeed, Bane, my name is Misery. It is who I am, and what I cause, He growled, flicking his tail irritably.

[Bane]

(ooc: Woah, was not expecting that xDD)

Bane had sensed Heartless's presence, yet not the words she had spoken. His ears swivelled back, eyes appearing confused, yet only for a flicker of a moment. At this new knowledge, he saw this tom in a different light. Confusion filled his mind, as to whether Heartless's words were of malice, or her simple lack of emotion was why she seemed unpleased at seeing her son. Nonetheless, he'd have to think this out once more.

"With a mother like her, I don't doubt you have skill."

He spoke rather matter-of-factly, wondering how much Misery knew of Heartless's new life. Bane understood Heartless had bore more than just the litter within BoneClan, understanding that some lived among the other clans.

"But Misery, eh? A cheery name. Your son, Heartless... tell me of him."

At this point, Bane moved his head to the side, one ear turned back to hear Heartless, yet his single-eyed gaze remained on the tom. There was something missing in his gaze... Bane couldn't tell, but he knew there was more to Misery than meets the eye. The King wanted to hear from Heartless of his story, as opposed to Misery's version. The formidable she-cat being a prized warrior in BoneClan, her opinion didn't go without being heard.[/size]

[Heartless]

[ooc: *sneaky* xD]

The cannibal watched her grown son, her heavy gaze unreadable, unreachable, as she loved over the figure of her child she had thought never to see again. Oh, she heard her leader’s words, her muzzle dipped slightly in acknowledgment that she had, but for a moment, nothing was spoken.

“He is one of three kits I bore moons ago, Bane; my first litter. The eldest, Chainless, and the middle, Loveless, both serve as medicine cat and warrior within Stoneclan now.”

Delicate, deadly sabers unsheathed and kneaded the ground in anger unsuppressed. How she wanted to be the one to face the two during the coming battle, she’d rip their miserable faces right off.

Ahem, the Siamese-marked she-cat flicked the brown tip of her tail, gaze sharpening thusly.

“His father, Hannibal, stole away my daughter, took her in the attempt to brainwash her and twist her into something she was not. She escaped, but when he returned to see me and my two sons we tried to drive him off. In the fight, Misery was chased from the field by Hannibal, and I’ve not seen him since.”

…until now.

“He always was a promising kit. Had a bit too much of his damned father in him then a cat ever should, but a skilled hunter and a quick learner. I thought he would make a good assassin.”

Her words were promising, Heartless might be willing to accept her own son back into her life. As long as he kept his paws away from her current litter of kits.

Acceptation was one thing. It didn’t bring trust, and Misery had become more twisted then the kit she remembered.

[Bane]

Bane listened intently to the words that passed through Heartless's lips, all the while keeping an intent gaze upon Misery. The more he looked, the more he felt like this tom could be trouble. But whatever this tom could do, Bane felt it was nothing he couldn't handle. A grin passed across his lips, nodding as Heartless finished, his ears twitching.

"Interesting."

Was all he said for now, his mind pondering on the question. Did Bane really want trouble just now, with this oncoming war? Could he risk that, in return for a suitable warrior? He was silent for a long time, during which his expression remained the same.

"Very well. Misery, if it's shelter you seek, then I shall give it to you. I expect great things from you, considering your family and past. Give anything less, and I shall chase you out of these lands personally."

What he spoke was true, he expected no more than excellence from Misery, and wanted it without any fuss. The King stood, turning to exit through the shadows.

"I shall leave you to talk to your mother. I trust you have a lot to talk about."

Though still uncertain why Heartless seemed not compeltely thrilled at Misery's appearance, he was unsure whether leaving the two together was wise, but nonetheless, he had other things to worry about.[/size]