Night train : joining

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    He had left StormClan. He needed a new home. A home with people who would accept him for him, a home where he could thrive. A home that didn't mind a vampire amongst its ranks. Maybe if he was upfront about it, then he would be much better off. The Cartel seemed like a good place. It had plenty of things to do, and was anti so he could get away with more things. Benny didn't want to go to the exiles, not yet at least. Maybe this place would do?


    The dogon went over to the border, a barrage of new smells hitting his nose. He was able to deal with the things he gained upon becoming a vampire and even surpress some of them. Hearing heartbeats, sunlight hurting like hell, wanting to drink everything he could, that sort of thing. Maybe he could be happy here. Maybe he wouldn't appear evil here. Maybe this was the place for him all along.


    It was nice to hope.

    b en


    Benedict sure didn't appear all too evil, but he did appear...peculiar. Interspecies hybrids were quite the popular trend, as Toxicwaste had come to realize. From Jelloshots to Project to...this. Perhaps a domestic canine and a dragon. But alas, he wasn't roaming the borders to nitpick at others' appearances and judge their physical quirks. No, not at all. Tox was here to find out what the intruder was doing here. Drugs? Prostitutes? Services? Wanting to hop on the gang train? Whatever. "Yo, name and business," the feline called as he approached the newcomer, treading carefully and cautiously.


    Well damn. One of his clanmate was here. Standing a good distance away from Tox, just so he wouldn't want to murder him again, he sighed. "Hello Benedict." Project said simply, narrowing his eyes. He remembered the kid he used to be, and felt responsible for his corruption.

    "Well look who it is, BoneClan's last ever leader. How does it feel knowing that other clans credit me for being the one who put a bullet in that shithole? A StormClanner's life purpose is to defeat the AntiClanners, and they're not the ones who get any sort of acknowledgement for doing such a thing. So sad," he cooed with a smile on his face, unable to hide the animosity behind his tone. It was painful when you tried to fix something that was broken, only to be shunned by the rest of the world because they lived for chaos. Well they could have their chaos in the form of a lying bastard pretending to be a BoneClanner, it was the one victory he would let have over him because somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew the frigid group had been beyond saving. He should've known they were finished as soon as they prevented him from torturing Deathstroke, when they didn't come rescue him from his nightmares. Feliks approached with eyes locked onto Benedict, pacing side to side in agitation as he waited for the other to state his name and business. As soon as they joined the Cartel, their pasts couldn't be held against them, but whilst the male could forgive, he wouldn't ever forget a liar.



    / welcome to the cartel ^^


    An unfamiliar feline approached him, which was to be expected. He was at a new clan afterall. The question always asked were asked, just like he had expected. Normal, routine, what happened almost everytime. What he wanted to happen. What he didn't expect was to find ex-clanmates (new clanmates?) waiting to greet him. When he saw Project he froze. Benedict had come here to start a new life, to put StormClan behind him. A bit of the past that he didn't want to revisit. But here StormClan was, standing in front of him. The dogon forced himself to relax, taking a deep breath. Then Feliks came over. The shithole who had raided StormClan. A small snarl appear on his maw, an aggression towards a past he wanted to forget. Though he couldn't be aggressive to new clanmates. He had to get along with them, he had to make friends. This is what he wanted, maybe the others wanted rock put the past behind them as well? "I doubt you stayed in the clan you were birthed in? I'm not a stormclanner, that place wasn't right for me." The male said, his foreclaws digging into the dirt. He took a deep breath, shutting his eyes for a moment. Stay calm Benedict, don't make a bad first impression on your new home. "As Project said, my name is Benedict, and I was actually here to join. As already mentioned, I was once a member of StormClan, but I left." Benedict spoke, hesitating a moment. He planned on saying that he was a vampire right in the beginning, but now he wasn't so sure. He didn't want to raise even more conflict.

    Oh boy, another Benny from StormClan. How many Bens were there, precisely? A whole stockpile of them, preserved just in case something happened to another? But wait, this guy didn't want to be called a StormClanner. Well, they wouldn't if they were here to join. Feliks' harsh words made the feline wonder what kind of deeds this Benedict fellow had committed in his past to create a bit of tension.


    Toxicwaste didn't care about bad blood or one's past. The Cartel was a place where all that shit would be forgiven if you pledged your loyalty and contributed. At least, that was how he saw it. "Welcome. Name's Toxicwaste." He wouldn't mention Bentley's torture to Benedict, mainly because he doubted the dogon even cared about that guy. Ex-Clanmates usually didn't give a flying fuck about former comrades. Let's see, an initiation... He had already made someone hop on one foot, so that was out of the question. "Sing me a song," the half-demon demanded of the hybrid, his hollow gaze bearing a slight gleam of curiosity. "That is, if you're looking for a bit of money to start you off."



    The serval would be next to approach giving a small chuckle to the new figures appearance. Of course he figured his was weirder, but no going back now. Of course he didn't feel bad either because, well he was a member of The Cartel. "And don't forget your initiation. Do a happy jig!"



    [ TAGS ]


    ★★★ the pup trotted towards the small crowd, lured by curiosity. she wasn't sure whether or not she was even allowed to head out of camp, but neither did she care. she wasn't one to tiptoe carefully around possible slight rulebreaks. if she got in trouble, that was that. no big deal. as she got closer, kosti was quite fascinated to find that the cause of the commotion was a creature the likes of which she had never seen before. she shot him a quick grin, and would have introduced herself, but she was really quite excited to watch him sing a song and do a happy jig, and wouldn't want to interrupt that.

    Sing a song. Do a happy jig. He didn't like the looks on their faces, they were messing with him weren't they? The money thing got his interest though. If they were offering money then this place probably had some sort of economy going, some reason that he would need money. "You'd think an initiation into a clan with this reputation would be something like go kill someone." He commented, half mumbling. He paused for a moment, gaze flicking between Tox and crybaby. "I can't tell if you're joking or serious. Will I need the money?" The dogon asked. He didn't want to make a fool of himself for nothing, so he'd clarify before doing anything embarrassing.

    He wanted to see the dogon make a fool of himself, sure, but in the end he didn't really care. "Unless you're going to buy things or rent out services inside the Cartel, not for now," he replied. "It's not mandatory, either. Not if you don't desperately want it." Some people still held onto their dignity and refused to take part of an initiation. That was fine—but he was a part of that crowd. His initiation was to chase his own tail, which was simple and quick comparing to doing some merry jig and singing along.