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Post by S t o r m on Nov 25, 2008 20:28:22 GMT -5
[ooc]
Forgive me! I'll be a-posting now... So sorry people.
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The caw of a sparrow in the distance was inspiring, every croaky note striking enthusiasm and encouragement on the great marimba of life. The air was cool with the scent of morning, humidity making small droplets of water roll down everything vertical, light shining off them intimately. The orange orb of heat hung in the air blankly with pale pink and blue lights swirling around it like art on a vacant canvas. Noise, of course, joined the beauty, but they were of unpleasant melody. Monsters swerved by on the darkened pavement, the rush of air that came with them gently swaying the blades of grass that clotted near the hard surface. A lone figure, merely a silhouette in the shadows of the trees leaped across the way, briefly exposing an auburn body hinted with the faintest shade of ash. The autumn-hued creature swiftly made it to the other side, not even bothering to see what might have hit him if he had not been so agile. Nor did he very much care.
"Me? Hit? I'd first be struck by lightning. Rubbish." The words were arrogant but nonetheless true. This tom was most physically nimble in all of the rogue lands, or so he liked to think. With a flick of his tail, he padded onward, down the side of the Thunderpath, not even flinching the most minuscule bit as the monsters swept his fur to the side and the foul scent filled his nostrils. It was early. He usually did not leave his hollow at this time of day, and, if he did, he always stayed within the obscure shadows of the sparse trees that surrounded his home. It was very rare that he ventured out into the open as such, not because he was frightened of the other cats, of course, but because he never had a need to. He hunted at night, and he drank from the dirty murk water near the buildings then as well. But this morn... well, he had just had a craving. For a fight or an encounter? Maybe. But really he just wanted some fresh air, and to explore the territory. Others knew his homeland better then he, and Jackknife intended to correct that.
He gingerly dodged a small pole, erect and pointing to the blue azure that was the sky. It had a white ball atop it that usually glowed at night. Jackknife had decided a while ago that because Twolegs could not see very well they had invented this contraption as an alternative source of light besides the sun. When nightfall came, Twolegs always swerved toward its luminescence when walking to better see their way. The red tom pondered delicately what it would be like from so far up. Sure, he'd climbed trees, but never before had he climbed a slick pole. Halting, he pivoted, rotating quickly and pressed one hard pad to the slick exterior. With a mighty leap, he wrapped his whole frame around it, trying to propel forth. But, as gravity dominates even the strongest of beasts, he slided downward and landed on his haunches, extremely perplexed. A flash of ignorance suffused his green eyes and he flexed his tail, outraged. A Twoleg-made object cannot defeat me.
"A defiance, I see. Very well, I take it up." He sprung once more, this time unsheathing his claws and pressing them in. Instead of climbing, however, he fell back down, scoring his curved black claws on the demon-wrought apparatus, optics glowing with pronounced vexation at the alluring thing, just daring him to try again. He lashed out with his claws once more, making a dreadful squeaking sound as nail met metal. Angered by the idiotic Twoleg device, he huffed blandly, and marched onward, tail in a vertical position. His stance was slanted in depression as if he had just faced a mighty battle and lost. "Stupid pole."
[/blockquote][/blockquote][/blockquote] [ooc]
Word Count: 648
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Post by Rippedstorm on Dec 3, 2008 17:58:53 GMT -5
"Having fun?" Came a voice. A Black fluffy cat approached the frustrated rouge. His stroll was confident, and he held his head high. His tail streaming out from behind. A grey scar was over his right eye, the mark making him the most recognized off all the black cats, at least the rouges. This was Darkwind, Darkspirit's 2nd choice after Abby, another one of the fiercer rouges that fought in the first great battle.
Oh how he loved being a rouge, being apart from his brother, being what his father always wanted him to be. He remembered the fight he had fought in, the one that made him almost famous in a way, after all he did kill the Stormclan leader... He smiled to him self and approached this other cat.
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Post by S t o r m on Dec 6, 2008 15:05:35 GMT -5
A hiss racked the creature's body, and his fur stood on end. He lashed his tail and spun around, jade eyes glaring at the newcomer. It was a black beast of the same race as Jackknife, his tail held arrogantly behind him, a grey scar penetrating the fur along his right eye. It was a marking that the auburn tom could have sworn he'd seen before. Or heard of, at the very least. Maybe this was one of the infamous rogues he'd been admonished about during his travels. Whether this cat posed a threat or not, didn't matter to the tom, though. Fighting him would simply squander away his valuable time, the rare time he did not want to elapse. It was never often that he got a day to himself to perform his own tasks, and he planned on enjoying it to the fullest.
"Having fun?"
If Jackknife had felt any feelings that were not of hatred toward the cat before, they were diminished. Nobody spoke to him like that. He might have to leave the cat a reminder of who was more dominate, preferably a scar on the left eye as well. His ears fell flat at the sides of his head in a territorial way, his maw curling into a rueful snarl. His whiskers quivered in the slightest bit of curiosity, tickling his cheeks the tiniest bit. However, he ignored his inquisitive nature, and pressed forth his unsheathed claws, his back arched upward. Another hiss escaped his lips, and he wondered just how the creature had gotten past his awareness. Surely, the black-tipped red cat could have scented him from fox-lengths away, if not more. Perhaps he had been distracted by the Twoleg-wrought pole, forgetting to think of his surroundings.
"Only a coward sneaks up on another when their back is turned." he muttered, agitated.
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Post by Rippedstorm on Dec 6, 2008 22:35:13 GMT -5
"Who said I was sneaking up on you?" He said cheekily. He paused then lowered his tail. "Your a good rouge, you don't let anyone tread on your paws." He smiled, then starred at the pole, feeling over confident he extended his claws and posed ready to leap. Darkwind jumped into the air and scratched at the smooth metal on the pole. He felt a small moment of triumph, then realized the ugly truth in slow-mo, he slowly started sliding down the pole until he fell on the ground.
He sat there for a moment. Confused, cheeks burning, telling himself he had made a complete fool of himself. Then, he laughed, hard.
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Post by S t o r m on Dec 7, 2008 9:26:50 GMT -5
The black-flecked, auburn rogue stared with distaste and meager curiosity as the other tom crouched low, waggling his haunches. Jade optics peered forth uncertain but slightly knowing. A smirk began to grace Jackknife's features as he saw the scarred black cat leap powerfully, claws extended to pierce the metal. There was the same squeaking sound as when Jackknife had done it, and for a minute, the tom seemed to think he was on top of the world, which made the watching beast grin roughly. The other slowly began to slide down the pole in such a way that Jackknife felt his stomach reverberate with hunger and humor. Amusement blazed in his emerald flame eyes, and his fur prickled wildly.
But before he could let out his laughter, the black tom began to giggle. Hysterically. What the.... His head tilted the side and an inquisitive touch entered his blinders. His haunches stiffened, and his back jolted up. Why was he laughing? How mouse-brained was that? Psh, a psychopath. Nice job, picking this one up, Jack. Jackknife pushed his paws forward. If he was like any of the other rogue psychos, he was probably sadistic, and that meant bad things for Jackknife, though he felt confident enough in himself that he could dispatch the scrawny male. Hair on end, bristling furiously, his orange, like the Fall leaves on the ground, tail swayed from one side to another as he simply gazed at the cat.
"What's wrong with you?" [/blockquote][/blockquote][/blockquote][/size] |
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