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Post by redrum on Oct 6, 2006 18:57:37 GMT -5
[ I guess I'll just post here until Bane has the time to reply. Or Goldenblaze, Heartless, Twistedrose, Crystal, et cetera. <3 ]
The few trees around this area seemed to bend and break with the wind, though the breezes were gentle. The few twigs that clung stubbornly to the thin, ghastly trunks began to crackle, and a cackle escaped the rough lips of a walking form nearby.
Neatly, the form drew a paw up, then licked it secretly. The tom then, reluctantly, let his bathed paw settle into the risen dust that he had so ruthlessly disturbed.
He was not one for grooming himself constantly, trying to keep his thick coat ripe and shiny.. no, no, not Redrum. His round, full dark green eyes, full of electricty and emerald flame, he closed his eyes, a dry tongue trying desperately to dampen cracked lips.
Unique.
Not a very descriptive word, if you really think about it. Nah, Redrum has much class, too much for that small word. Besides, pitiless, slayer, murderer, assasin, brutal, ruthless..
Those are a little more descriptive, and oh so fitting, to this muscular male. Two pools of possesive green, trimmed to a small, round gem, shot up to where the branches began to fall. He unsheathed his lethal claws, stained with dust and season-dried blood, before, in a flash, he was gone.
Nothing but red dust in the wind.
Anyways, that's what it would appear.
Redrum shot up the tree, cackling mercilessly, stepping out upon the bending branch, and he threw his full sinew and muscle on it. Of course, Redrum has no great "well-fed girth", because he does not eat often, but the muscle beneath his rough, scarred hide is heavy and solid as ten boulders embroidered in steel and precious bronze.
The wicked tom shot to the ground with his branch. Redrum, being a feline, and a stealthy one at that, easily evaded death by simply rolling away from where the branch crashed into tiny splinters of sharp shards of pointed wood. Two cut-emerald eyes stared, pleased, at the mess of treebark.
"A branch that doesn't bend with the wind breaks."
Redrum's green eyes glowed with warmth, a cold, chilling warmth, and, flexing his limbs, he radiantly began to wash his rough fur from the splinters and leaf bits.
Redrum's fur wasn't a great, glossy heap; it was pure dark ginger, like blood, and that seemed to please him. His eyes, pure dark emerald, often shot lust, hate, covet, anger, or emotionless scorn. His limbs, flexibility knowing no ends, were long and powerful, his shoulders broad. Ugly scars etched themselves deep into his form, and his muzzle was lined with scratches and bruises.
But he never tried to bathe himself, to look pretty. He merely cleaned sharp bits and maybe occasional dust and mud from his dark red coat. And that was all that was needed.
Redrum never did more than what was needed.
Redrum backwards is what? |
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Post by Bane on Oct 8, 2006 14:18:17 GMT -5
[Post Coming]
(ooc| Loverly post, btw =3 <3)[/size]
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Post by redrum on Oct 8, 2006 15:19:35 GMT -5
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Post by Sabrestar on Oct 8, 2006 19:52:23 GMT -5
ooc|
Wow.
I love you.
Murder - Redrum. That's genius. (FromTheShining?)
May I join? (: Dear Twistedrose has been feeling lonely. [/size]
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Post by redrum on Oct 8, 2006 20:46:02 GMT -5
[ xD Of course. Btw, yeah, it's from The Shining. I couldn't get over that. ^^; I'm so goth. ] |
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Post by Sabrestar on Oct 8, 2006 21:34:50 GMT -5
ooc| Goths can be geniuses, y'know. (:
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"A branch that does not bend is defiant. Perhaps being broken is better than being controlled."
Her words are like venom.
Her words are like honey.
Her words are like lies and bittersweet promises; after all, lies are made to kill, and promises are made to be broken, am I right?
She moves with the grace of a thousand roses, she moves with the sharpness of a thousand thorns. She's twisted inside but perfect outside, she has the interior of fire and the exterior of ice.
It's passion, it's infatuation with a little thing called blood.
Like wine, blood is addictive; although drinking more than a liter would cause one to be sick, it is not just the taste of blood that blesses thy tongue but the death that hooks the killer's heart and grips it with cold and callous fingers. It's the way one can kill over and over again, and with each murder, it gets easier. It gets interesting. It gets fun.
Blood, you see, is just a consolation prize.
The killing is what is addicting.
It's almost like a bad habit.
I can't escape this hell.
So many times I've tried.
But I'm still caged inside.
Somebody get me through this nightmare.
I can't control myself.
Somebody kill this sinning animal.
She flutters with the grace of an autumn leaf, dying from a life of withered winter and weakness.
She dances with the poise of a murderer.
You are not a special and unique snowflake.
You are the same ordinary, decomposing matter of this world.
Sometimes we wonder, are we just Starclan's apprentices dumped along the side of the road, like puppies who cannot be house trained?
Sometimes we wonder, is this reality something that has been spun from imagination? From the depths of despair, we create something so fake it becomes real?
Laced along the bough of an overhanging tree, she laughs, the sunlight shining waves of golden light down a sienna red coat run along with black stripes, so elegant was she that any unsuspecting male would immediately turn her way.
Beneath the glossed coat of charm, muscles writhed like snakes wrapped in cellophane.
Beauty is power, my friends.
Beauty is power the same way territory is power the same way Starclan is power.
And Twistedrose, let me tell you, she has one hell of a lot of power.
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Post by redrum on Oct 9, 2006 17:39:31 GMT -5
[ Now that was a beautiful post. ^^ However, my muse has left me, so I'm afraid my post is slightly short. T.T Pardon. ]
Those words..
That voice...
Redrum straightened himself, his ear flattening, the left stamped against his red skull, while the right flicked in greeting. He turned sharply to meet this lady's magenta gaze, his emerald slits widening in pleasure.
A little lady, of course, not vulnerable. He dipped his head casually to her, as he considered her words, and a smile creased over his scarred lips. Not nearly as pretty as this femme's. Her ebony-crossed ginger fur gleamed rich and thick, healthy and vibrant.
Redrum's tail rose, then fell flat against the earth, like a huge, round quart of sunrock. He then spoke in a gruff, scratchy voice, strange like wet silk against hard slate, "Right you are, miss, but defiance is considered impudence, and sometimes it is just better to bend when the wind is not having a bad day."
Then, he nodded, as if in thought. "Right, well, where am I? State your name and rank, miss, and tell me of this territory's heirarchy. Who reigns here?"
He closed his eyes. Scents of blood and dust filled his flaring nostrils. He grunted; these cats were cannibals, murderers, the likes.
Smiling, Redrum let out a snarling purr. These are my kind of cats.
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Post by Sabrestar on Oct 11, 2006 16:28:20 GMT -5
ooc| I'll be waitin' for Bane to post.. If she's alive. :c
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Post by redrum on Oct 11, 2006 17:01:09 GMT -5
[ Righto. ]
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Post by Bane on Oct 12, 2006 13:02:23 GMT -5
[ooc| sorry for the wait xDD; This post is kinda crap and rushed - I got coursework to do D;]
"Why come here if you do not know where you are? Might one make the assumption that you are.... lost?"
That murderous voice, tainted with a thousand deaths. Yet the owner seemed nowhere to be found.
Because that, my friend, is the skill of an assassin.
To hide, where nobody - nothing - can see you. To speak so your voice seems to glide through the air, coming from no particular direction.
And of course, it helped that his pelt was black. Pure black. They say cats with black pelts and green eyes are unlucky - an omen. Perhaps it was true, as when Bane stepped smoothly forward - but only so his glittering single green eye, and the even more impressive glowing white one could be seen - the area certainly seemed to be filled with horror. Grief, mass murder, soundless screams of pain.
"Your in BoneClan, tom. You are standing in front of one of my finest assassins. I am this clans heirarchy. Next time you enter an area, make sure you atleast know where the heck you are.
Now, state your name and why you're here."
Bane looked down upon the grubby tom with distaste - his unwashed pelt, his whole presence as if he could ask Twistedrose for her name when he was infact lower, so much lower than her and in context she should be asking for his damn name.
But he showed something of potential. Something a few idiots that Bane knew of didn't. First impressions were everlasting - so for christs sake, make it a damn good one.[/size]
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Post by loutuskit on Oct 12, 2006 13:20:35 GMT -5
ooc: may I join? *flinches in the advanced rpers presence*
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Post by Bane on Oct 12, 2006 16:04:27 GMT -5
[I'm sorry, but I'd rather you didn't. Not unless you actually have a character in BoneClan.]
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Post by Sabrestar on Oct 12, 2006 16:32:48 GMT -5
In the head of such a beautiful figure, one would always remember what to do, or what not to do.
Like a model, posing for a thousand flashes and a thousand yelling photographers:
Give me envy, baby.
Give me malice.
Give me hate.
Twistedrose, her fine head rested on her paws overhanging the bent branch, her tail hanging off the bark and swaying like a long pendulem, she laughs again; a curling, purred laugh that rolls off her tongue like a drop of honey, sticking to her lips.
Sugarcoating her words.
When one has the power to tantalize hearts and destroy them, let me tell you, that's a lot of power over someone. The innocence is a lie within her twinkling pink eyes, she turns her head, the moon glistening down against the white scars slashed across her cheek, the three, long flaws.
Her scar matched the one on Bane's face, to prove that, well, Twistedrose wasn't just an angel from hell, but just a regular cat.
If one could define regular, that is.
"Why, you seem to be someone who knows what he speaks,"
the Boneclan female purrs, her voice thick and velvety with a French tongue, smirking. The right corner of her lips, they lifted to reveal neat, white fangs, whilst the other corner remained slack, a twisted smile to match a twisted heart.
"But perhaps one of a subordinate rank should not speak with such poise."
She smiles.
She tilts her head to one side.
She shifts her chin.
"A peasant in royal presence should grovel in the dirt, my friend."
She smiles again.
She's not a bitch; she's just proud.
There's a difference, you see.
"I concur dear Bane."
Twistedrose, she says, if you're a monster, you might as well be an invisible monster.
There is no room on this Earth for the worthless.
Either live a life of internal weakness, or die a life of cleansing removal.
At least, such is the philosophy of Boneclan.
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Post by redrum on Oct 12, 2006 17:30:35 GMT -5
Redrum's ears flicked once, then his eyes glowed with an unreadable expression. His dusty, matted fur did not rise in malice, in threat. No. He liked this pair of cats; they talked his language. He closed his eyes as the male spoke.
"Why come here if you do not know where you are? Might one make the assumption that you are... lost?" Redrum smirked as he spoke. "Yes, sir," he mocked, one ear cocking slightly as he observed this confident dark-coated male.
His pelt was like fine silk, a dark, deep, nightmarish black with scars zigzagging through the flawless coat. His only eye that actually caught site of things was a deep jungle-green, while his sightless eye was a useless heap of ivory gel, one that rolled and glitsened, but was not alive.
He nodded in response as this powerful ebony cat spoke again. "Your in Boneclan, tom. You are standing in front of one of my finest assassins. I am this clan's heirarchy. Next time you enter an area, make sure you atleast know where the heck you are."
Redrum's own fiery emerald hues stared lifelessly at the Dark King, then he smiled maniacally. He could feel this assasin's eyes move over his scraggly features. He drank in the muscular tom's words, then tilted his head and coughed, "Well, your Highness, I've never been to this land before, and who could I ask, where not even a bird dares sing in this cemetaric asylum?" His eyelids lowered, making his eyes appear lazy, which added to the menacing air about him. He was not sh*t, despite his scruff and gruff coat and nature, oh no. He was willing to make this, this King see that.
"Oh yes," he purred, throwing a cold glance at the rather dapper female, "I'm no less of dirt than you, or you're best assasin. We're all cats, ain't we? Who cares if you're a clan murderer and I'm a lone killer? We're all the same in the end."
He closed his eyes as the last bit of bite Bane barked out at him. "Now, state your name and why you're here." He gave the cat a reproachful glare and meowed gruffly, "I'm Redrum. I'm here because I'm lost."
He turned to the magnificent Queen, his lip curling subconciously as she mockingly mewed at him in a high-pitched lady's squeal that was heavily loaded with distaste, "Why, you seem to be someone who knows what he speaks. But perhaps one of such subordinate ranking should not speak with such poise. A peasant in royal presence should grovel in the dirt, my friend. I concur dear Bane." Her words infuriated him, but merely swallowed his rage and spat, "And so, you've been royal all your life? I know you weren't born into this Hellhole. You were once a rogue like myself, weren't you? Don't laugh at a mouse for having whiskers," he smiled, using something he had heard somewhere before, some phrase or another.
He scowled fiercely, letting his words sink in. If they wanted a fight, he would obligue, even if they were filthy cowards and outnumbered him, he'd slay them both, lacing his pelt with beautiful new additions. He then grinned, liking the idea. Just a dare. |
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Post by Sabrestar on Oct 12, 2006 17:54:43 GMT -5
Oh, this tom, how he was flirting with death, speaking with such foolishness and impudence amongst a King and Queen. Treason, he could be accused of; burned at the stake.
Well, not burned, but more like gauged and then decapitated at wrathful claws.
She smiled again, her long legs shifting underneath her slender body, draped with such splendor and beauty, rising before dropping neatly down onto earth and catching her balance with as much grace and accuracy as a dancer. Her sinew squirmed and threatened to burst through the smooth skin beneath the fur, she was this well built; not one to be fooled of, for even an angel can kill without hesitation.
She met that chipped, emerald gaze, glistening with a thousand fiery embers of green and malevolence, and Twistedrose, she continued to smile.
"Whilst you are in a land where hierachy matters more than the prey you hunt, perhaps you should watch your slithering tongue, rogue."
And she continued to smile, that smile of bittersweet jeers.
"You see, within this territory, we are judged by grace, by bloodlust, by fear and weakness, by strengths and lack of heart. We are shadows, we are monsters, we are invisible beasts, we are the shattered darkness no one wishes to step paw forth in fear of where they will end up. A nightmare is limited, but let me tell you, reality, it can go on forever with more pain than any hallucination."
She smirks again.
She steps besides Bane, across from Redrum, and she smiles.
She waves her tail behind her slender legs, and she cocks her chin.
"There is a difference between royalty and self-given power, love."
Twistedrose, her eyes sparkle with a thousand faded rubies.
Her lips whisper a thousand words and her claws whisper a thousand tales of deadly murder.
"Perhaps you should learn of such laws before taking words out of my mouth, Redrum."
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Post by redrum on Oct 12, 2006 18:27:10 GMT -5
[ Blond moment... what is Twistedrose talking about when she says 'taking words out of her mouth'? ]
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Post by Sabrestar on Oct 12, 2006 19:38:55 GMT -5
ooc| As in, 'misinterpreting her' and twisting her words, sorta.
Like:
And so, you've been royal all your life?
Rose never said she was royal, she was just using it as an example; since Redrum's a loner, he needs to know his place amongst actual Clan members.
And:
I know you weren't born into this Hellhole. You were once a rogue like myself, weren't you?
He doesn't know that, either. Twistedrose is young, she could have been born in Boneclan's territory after it was created. ( Well, not really, but Redrum doesn't know that. xDD )
I'm bad at explaining things. :c But I hope you get it? XD -flee- [/size]
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Post by redrum on Oct 13, 2006 17:33:35 GMT -5
[ ...I see. Well, actually, Twistedrose did call herself royal when she was telling Redrum to grovel in the dirt in the presence of royalty. So, yeah, kinda, he wasn't taking the words out of her mouth. Post coming, sorry if I got too uppity, Sabre. I'm a really confused eleven year old blonde who has trouble comprehending somethings others' say. I try to weave my posts nicely, but it comes out with errors or something, and I try my hardest to fix it, though it will not be fixed without time to develop more... oh dear, now I'm rambling. Post coming.. ]
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Post by Bane on Oct 13, 2006 18:07:37 GMT -5
[11? You're amazing for your age. <3 I started rp at 11 and was completely rubbish xD]
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Post by Sabrestar on Oct 13, 2006 19:36:16 GMT -5
ooc|
Hold up.
You're eleven?
(: !
-goes to crawl down a hole and die- c:
Eh, whatever. xD -is too lazy to change the post- Just forget that Rose ever said that, then. Just something that Rose would say. XD She likes making people feel.. sad. o.o
.. nevermind. >>
I don't feel good.
I started when I was 11, and I sucked too, Baney. XDD -highfives-
Redrum, damnn, you're going to be amazing. :c
I'm 13. -flail-
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