YOU CAN TRUST ME WHEN I SAY, IT WON'T BE LONG | O , BODY

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    [align=center][fancypost bgcolor=none; bordercolor=transparent; borderwidth=0px; width: 370px;font-size:8pt;line-height: 130%;][justify]/ this is part of a plot that's going to begin conflicts between hawkclan and colouredclan! the hawkclan scent will be attached to the corpse found! also tw for gore! also, tldr; nighttales found a messed-up corpse by the border, and the scent of hawkclan is present! sso yeah!


    It lingered there: the empty husk of a ravaged carcass, the pulpous epithelium embellishing their frame having been torn by the stomach, insides gradually ebbing from the hold in which its body had once had on its contents. The face had been contorted with that of an agonised scream, limp creases remaining embellished in the loner's vessel, portraying the struggle that had occurred moments beforehand. The slight tinge of metal, cleaving the crisp, December air, was what had immediately drawn attention towards the scene.


    Though, it seemed as if Nighttales had been the first to stumble across it. His heterochromatic orbs shifted towards its wounded form, briefly skimming the various lacerations in which skin had been severed and blood had fled from each parting. He paused, fictional brows knitting, demeanour retaining a calm countenance, despite the gradual tightening of his throat. Npcs tended to mean very little, to most, but they held at least some amount of significance to him. They had been a member of Colouredclan, after all, and no member of Colouredclan was expendable.


    However, whilst contemplating the remains of the scene, which had played out moments before, he found his mismatched oculars widening slightly, fictional brows rising as he identified a prominent stench, interwoven with the metallic tang of blood, which was slowly growing stale whilst hovering in the open air. "Hawkclan?" He'd mutter, the alias of such group skimming his parted jaws. "Hm," The serval would eventually resound, heterochromatic orbs narrowing in a rather studious manner, whilst a dry, hollow smirk cracked his jaws.


    "Oh, Ichigo. I thought that you would have been one of the clever ones." He'd murmur, beneath his breath, more-so to himself than anybody else. Nighttales certainly wasn't having a blissful conversation with the corpse, that was for sure.


    TAGS 01/12/2016

    [fancypost borderwidth=0;font-size:8pt; text-align:justify; line-height: 140%; width:450px;]/that was the most beautiful description of a dead body ive ever read, props to you


    Atticus was used to corpses by now; though he wasn't bloodthirsty in the slightest (more out of indifference than a pacifistic outlook on life), he had resided in the Cartel quite recently. Their chaotic nature had lead to many bodies piling up, to the point where an old friend of his had complained incessantly about the blood staining her pelt just from taking a stroll through the jungle.


    Perhaps he shouldn't have been smiling to himself as he approached the scene, but the memory was so strong and sweet that he couldn't help it. It wasn't long before he wiped the wistful look off of his face, and it was replaced by one of concern. "Jesus, the hell happened here?" Atticus grunted, shooting the leader a quizzical look. Nighttales seemed awfully calm about this. But then again, so did he, so who was he to judge?

    [fancypost bgcolor=transparent; borderwidth=0px; bordercolor=transparent; width: 425px;][justify]★ ★ ★[size=3pt]--[/size] [size=9pt]/*clapping* Nice job! I loved it.


    Soap did his best not to laugh at the corpse. Huh? Someone thought they could waltz in and just murder someone? He would have none of that. And yet, he found a smile growing on his face. It stopped as he approached the two. "Obviously a murder."
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    Tags 11/30/16

    Tags 11/30/16

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    [justify][fancypost borderwidth=0px; background: linear-gradient(#8f6b9b, #8f6b9b, #d4a0e5); height: 100px; width: 400px; padding: 0px; border: 10px solid white; text-align: center; font-size: 18pt; color: white;][fancypost borderwidth=0px; padding: 0px; width: 400px; height: 18px; padding-top: 42px; padding-bottom: 42px; text-align: center; margin: auto;]DAMIANO MUZIKANT[/fancypost][/fancypost][fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 395px; border-left: 6px solid white; border-right: 6px solid white; padding: 7px; margin: auto; border-bottom: 2px solid white; font-family: verdana; font-size: 8pt; line-height: 15px; background: linear-gradient(#d4a0e5, #d4a0e5, white); min-height: 100px; color: black]Damiano hadn't arrived early enough to see what had actually happened, so he was left utterly confused when he had come across their leader staring down at the corpse of an NPC clanmate. The turkish angora had been taking his usual stroll around the territory, when he had come across the horrific sight of the commander and the dead body. His fuchsia eyes widened as he tried to form some sort of valid explanation through them. His attention was solely focused on their leader. Damiano wasn't the least bit fazed by the carcass at all. In fact, he was used to the sight thanks to his time in The Garden. Because of his ex-cousin, Buttercuppaw, he had been introduced to the subject of death at a much earlier stage in his life. Their clan had been a cult, so they had been encouraged to make sacrifices and perform rituals for the goddess called Herthe. In Dami's opinion, it had all been ridiculous. There was no way he believed in something like a god as the child saw himself to be on the same level as them. Scratch that, he was far more superior than them.


    The porcelain-furred male took a few steps forward and cautiously approached the trio of males. He bit the bottom of his lip as he watched Nighttales. In all honesty, the smirk that the serval currently had on spooked the youth a bit. It wasn't the smirk that the the leader always had on; there was a subtle difference to it. He blinked at Soap and Atticus in bemusement. Didn't these morons know that they were in trouble? Nighttales was the murderer! Damiano shook his head in shock. First the truth tea incident, now this? The old man was getting crazier and crazier by the second. "Brighscales! You couldn't have possibly...?" He held his breath. The narcissist was learning so much about the commander nowadays. It was a bit surprising to know that the wildcat was already turning his back on them.


    "I knew you were a bit of an odd man, but I didn't think you would have gone as far as to do something like this." The naive child let out a deep sigh. For once, he didn't know what to say. Who would have thought that their own leader would have resorted to killing one of his own clanmates? His violet pink hues traveled down to the NPC corpse. All he knew, was that this opened up the door for him to become the future leader of Colouredclan. He couldn't wait to hold a party for himself at home, but for now, he would have had to confront the older male.
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    [spoiler=♢ — updated 11/28][size=7pt]general. [biography] [thread hub]
    ♢ damiano muzikant sixx puppeteer norwood | dami [dah-me] | cismale
    ♢ 8 months | 8 months mentally/spiritually | ages real time
    ♢ bisexual autoromantic | he/him pronouns
    ♢ colouredclan warder | no titles


    important facts/events.
    ♢ hates getting dirty
    ♢ has a british accent
    ♢ goes crazy without his mirror
    ♢ has athazagoraphobia
    ♢ loosely based off of seiya kanie, yū otosaka, & karamatsu
    ♢ promoted to warder (11/26)


    physical. [reference]
    ★ DOMESTIC FELINE [birth & main] | health: 95%
    — ivory turkish angora with a pair of intense, fuchsia eyes. his pelt is long and well groomed, while his body is well built. he is a bit undersized as he is shorter than most males. growing out of his back, are a pair of crimson red butterfly wings.
    ♢ wears a golden crown adorned with a single red ruby
    ♢ carries a burgundy satchel holding his hand mirror
    [injuries] broken nail


    relationships. [heart chart]
    ♢ single | crushing on himself
    ♢ ½ of ______
    ♢ yuri muzikant x npc
    ♢ mentor: yuri muzikant


    personality.
    ♢ narcissistic | sarcastic | childish | pompous | stubborn
    ♢ blunt | rigorous | insensitive | ambitious | competitive
    ♢ impatient | pessimistic | dramatic | insecure | neat | dense
    ♢ envious | selfish | emotional | prideful | devoted | overconfident


    powers.
    ♢ conjuration [discovered]
    ♢ teleportation [discovered]
    ♢ shapeshifting [undiscovered]


    interaction/confrontation.
    ♢ closed to capture, torture, and death
    ♢ easy mentally | medium physically
    ♢ attack in bold #8f6b9b or risk being ignored
    ♢ can powerplay nonviolent or peaceful actions
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    The post was edited 1 time, last by ♢ DAMIANO MUZIKANT ().

    [fancypost bgcolor= transparent; border: 0px;][justify]Rick was used to it. If that was a bad thing or a good thing; he wasn't too sure. It could be considered a bad thing because it meant you'd seen a lot of it, been surrounded by violence so many times that something as graphically violent as this hardly had any affect. Or it could be a good thing, because it meant he was still aware of the violence, that he wouldn't cringe and throw up at the sight. He was hardened because of the experiences he's been through. He's not weak. The siberian tiger grits his teeth as the blood scent wafts up his nose. It means something. Death. It's not the light blood scent of prey either. It's sharper, and he can hear mutters from his clanmates. Angry. Nighttales is there too. If the leader is there, then it's an important matter. The siberian tiger pads through the undergrowth, picking up the pace slightly as the smell intensifies the closer he gets. The first thing he saw was each of his clanmates faces, of which there were only three. One was Nighttales; calm, deep in thought. Planning. Another was Atticus; concerned and quizzical. Third was Soap, strangely smiling and stating the obvious. Rick's own face was cold, giving away nothing but the usual as his blue eyes examined the ravaged corpse. The insides had been emptied onto the ground, a display that once would've turned his stomach over and now simply made his eyes twitch.


    It smelt bad. "Hawkclan." Rick muttered as the scent wafted up his nose, tail stub twitching. And wasn't that a little Proclan? The siberian tiger lifted his head slightly and let his blue eyes flicker to Nighttales, metal prosthetics shining as the sunlight filtered through the trees. "I'll go talk to them." He offered coolly, imagining how the confrontation would go; either through denial or through violence. He doubted that the violence would be through Hawkclans side but after seeing this, he guessed that it could be a possibility.



    information | updated 04/12

    [fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 400px; text-align: justify; font-size: 10px; line-height: 1.20;][color=#969696]"I'll go as well." He was curious, to see how the other clan would react to this, after all. Dead was dead, as far as it concerned him, no matter who's time it was. Shifting ideally, he'd turn his attention towards his leader, and not the dead body. Best not to mess with the dead, really.


    info — updated 12/3

    [fancypost borderwidth=0; width: 400px;][align=center][font=georgia][size=8][i]Love, it will get you nowhere. You're on your own.[/fancypost]
    [fancypost borderwidth=0; width: 400px; margin-top: -12px;][hr][/fancypost]
    [fancypost borderwidth=0; width: 400px; height: auto; margin-top: -10px;][justify][font=arial][size=9pt]"May I come too?" She asked as she neared the group. Her voice even and eyes on the males. Sitting back, she noticed Lilac seemed to approve of this. The ghost rarely approved of anything the child did.


    Lilac - Hatari
    [/fancypost]
    [fancypost borderwidth=0; width: 400px; margin-top: -10px;][hr][/fancypost]
    [fancypost borderwidth=0; width: 400px; margin-top: -12px;][align=center][font=georgia][size=8][i]You fucking psycho. Your ass belongs to me now.[/fancypost]