THE BLOOD HOUSE | territory change ; reference | thread expires, 6/5

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    They had lost their home, the sewers, plagued to the brim with bacteria ridden water. Their home, was gone. Caledon stood in the middle of the Junkyard, rain soaking his pelt, they had taken shelter in the cars but it didn't do well against the flooding. Everyone was still soaked to the bone, sickness was still an issue, and now a foot of water coated the Junkyard. Fresh out of ideas, Caledon flattened his ears and looked up into the raging sky above. Lightning clashed, a purple flash of light split across the abyss that was the heavens. "Bloodclan. We can't stay here. The cars aren't keeping us dry" he shouted against the storm. Where will he take them? The hotel? No, it was falling apart, unstable as ever.


    How was he to wander aimlessly with an entire clan behind him? Funny thing about Caledon, confidence when the outcome is most uncertain. Lashing his long back tail, the mostly-white leader launched himself from the hood of his chosen car and into the foot of water below, sending a wave, causing the dark depths to ripple endlessly. "Let's go" he added before falling silent and sloshing through, heading out of the junkyard and into the flooded streets. No humans to be seen, strange. Caledon directed them through the alley, street lights flickered and left them in darkness, guided only by the lightning and Caledon's white pelt.


    Squinting against the rain as it seemed to fall down harder, he paused, growing frustrated. Swinging his head around, he had two options. To the forest, or back to the junkyard, the water was ice cold and no doubt some more would fall sick. All for what? They can't live in the Alley, in dumpsters. He feared they may need to spread out. No. Caledon whipped around the corner of an old building and adjusted to the few street lamps that fell against a bright red house. The house, even against the storm was blindingly bright, furrowing his brows together he headed towards it. The doors were blown wide open, the windows were a mix of smashed wide open and boarded up. Human homes didn't often look like this, this house, was abandoned.


    Caledon lead his clan forward, hoping he wasn't leading them to a death trap. Debris gently touched his paws as he sloshed through the water then climbed up the concrete steps. The opening was dark and eerie, the window covers whipped in the wind, and the doors banged gently against the sides. Fearlessly, Caledon crept forward, across the threshold, scanning the area with narrowed eyes, his claws gently tapping the floor as he waited for any danger to emerge. Debris covered the floor but the large house was high enough to remain dry it seemed.


    Many large dens were carved into the belly of this beast, and many more it seemed as a staircase came into view. He approached it, placing a paw on the first step, earning a creak in protest. Climbing the steps, he took in all the beautiful ruin, the blood red peeling paint. As he reached the top, he was in awe. He looked around the crimson room, decorated with strange designs and what looked to be the only windows left in tact. Home. This is home.


    Caledon spun around and re-traced his steps, climbing down the stairs, he launched himself onto the guardrail and lowered himself into a seated position. "Bloodclan, welcome, to our new home" he announced, taking another look around. Still in awe with such beauty, .



    "THE BLOOD-HOUSE" | main camp

    Along the outskirts of the city, wedged between the Junkyard and the Alleyways is a large red abandoned town-house. Chosen by Caledon for its beautiful and rather ironic strikingly red color. Several tail-lengths from the street, the entrance is guarded by a small chain fence and the windows are either smashed open or boarded up giving it its eerie yet beautiful appearance.

    REFERENCE 1 | REFERENCE 2


    -- INSIDE THE BLOOD-HOUSE

    ✰ When you enter the broken french doors, you will take in a mass collection of rooms and halls, peeling red paint, and dark marble flooring covered in debris. The creaky staircase at the end of the great hall leads to the meeting room and Leader/deputy headquarters. The Healer's headquarters is located outside of the house in an old abandoned greenhouse.

    ENTRANCE REF. | STAIRCASE REF. | STAIRCASE REF. 2 | LIVING ROOM REF. | GREAT HALL | ROOM REF. | ROOM REF. 2 | LEADER / DEPUTY QUARTERS | MEETING ROOM REF.


    CAL'S BRIEF TAGS

    LUXOR

    THE WORLD IS A VAMPIRE SENT TO DRAIN

    If there was anything Luxor hated, it was rain. He was soaked to the bone, tired, and hungry. He plodded after his leader, his ears flattened to his alabaster skull in annoyance.


    The House loomed above him, doors open like a hungry maw just waiting for its flood of furry food to come waltzing into its hungry stomach.


    Banging hits his ears, as the wind picks up, the shutters flapping wildly. As Caledon steps in, hes soon to follow. He needed out of that dreaded rain. He shakes his pelt out. “BloodClan, Welcome to our new home”


    At least it was sheltered."Speech."



    Canary struggled to squeeze himself into the crowd that followed Caledon to the former Twoleg abode, as he brought with him a worn leather collar poorly studded with his own baby teeth, and a mouse for Magnolia. His short, caramel pelt was bedraggled by the pouring rain as cats stepped on his heels and pushed him about while they trudged through the alleys and streets. He stopped to wave at faces he recognized, then jostled on by the irritated cats behind him. The score on his flank from the loose debris still stung a bit, even if he applied marigold. He wondered if they could later recover Kairos's body and provide him with a proper burial in the yard. Thoughts buzzed in his head regarding his family, his clan, the new territory, and perhaps, a new beginning.


    His cobwebs were being unraveled by the merciless raindrops just before he hurried into the kitschy red house after Luxor, his eyes wide as he scanned the mysterious new land. It was beautiful, in an odd way, and smelled far better than the sewers, so Canary thought of it to be quite the upgrade from the murky, crumbed chambers. The wallpaper peeled like tree bark and one of the entrance walls was stained with faded graffiti and vulgar drawings. The boy examined them, puzzled, and pressed a muddy paw to the washed-out paper. Perhaps one of the tags could be their clan crest, and he looked proudly at their new home. "Snazzy. Maybe wunna those things could be our motif?"

    Nana flattened her ears at the news, not really sure she liked it. She had only just started to know the Junkyard, so why would they be moving already? Pouting, the child padded towards VALESKA- , trying to snuggle against the female's paw. "Are we going to, mom?" she asked, looking up at her mother's face with big and questioning green eyes, almost pleading for her to say no. But in her ind, she already knew the answer. They were a part of Bloodclan, after all. "Why?" she immediately threw a second question at the head guard, not really sure why the cars couldn't keep them safe until it stopped raining. There were so many hiding spots, surely they could survive?


    While she didn't really like the rain and the fact she could feel the water touch her belly, she didn't like the concept of moving either. And how would she be able to keep up with the pace of the others? The way the Bloodclan leader and the first few cats moved... She was quite sure it'd be impossible for her to match that. So for now she simply stood there, waiting for an answer, her paws completely disappearing in the water as the rain made her squint her eyes.

    🌸* cielo

    I'M WISER FROM THE MESS YOU MADE—


    Perhaps it was misplaced, perhaps she was in no position to feel this way. But Cielo had been a little protective of Canary, especially since the flood, and though she hesitated to voice these feelings, she was still careful to keep an eye on him.


    The driving storm sent the bedraggled clan, loosely tied, held together by strained family bonds and an innate need for survival, out of their home. Away from the only place Cielo could remember-- granted, her home of less than a week, but still the fact held weight.


    She kept an eye on Canary as they walked, nudging a few cats roughly away when they nearly trampled the kid. She was certainly less than gentle in her movements, and her glares were sharper than they'd normally be.


    The house...


    It was something else, that was for sure.


    "This'll be fun to take for our own," she said good-naturedly, purring at Luxor and Canary. The vivid red suited BloodClan for certain.


    "Let's hope it holds up..." she added a bit more seriously. Something sad flashed in her gaze, her stomach twisting at the memory of all had been taken from them in the depths of those sewers in the span of hardly more a few minutes.


    —I FEEL NO PAIN


    "speaking" // attacking

    TAGS ✦ ✧ ✦ — Though drenched and sodden due to the graceless storm that caused so much damage, Daanya managed to maintain some elegance to her gate. Stone shoulders forced the slim feline past her fellow Bloodclanners, narrowed azule spectacles taking in their new residence.


    The intense burgundy and reds that painted nearly everything except for the floors gave the air a rosy hue, destined to be more intense when the sun was shining again. Flaky lead paint peeled off the wall and dust covered the abandoned house in thick blankets, clearly needing some sprucing up. Lifting a paw up to examine the pad with disdain, Dani curled her lip for a heartbeat before she placed it back down, padding up the flight of stairs before her. "It a fitting home. Very....red" she mewed, getting a view of the second floor before the seated herself at the top of the landing.


    In the nymph's features, approval could be seen in the way she planted herself in the spot she found to be an ideal way to watch over the house entrance. A brisk nod was sent her leader's way, tail flicking in hopes the storm would pass soon so she could go out and gather something to make comfortable bedding on the wood floors.


    DAMIAN - TOM - 13 MOONS - BLOODCLAN GUARD - TALL MUSCULAR TOM
    TAGS



    CUZ IM COLD ON THE INSIDE, THERE'S A DOG IN MY HEART

    will reply tomorrow :)



    AND IT TELLS ME TO TEAR EVERYTHING APART.



    - art by wolfgang

    Clever -Social - Adaptable - Level Headed

    Dominating - Possessive - Violent - Reckless

    Active - Sarcastic - Ambitious - Few Morals

    Will Start Fights - Will Kill - May Show Mercy

    Wears a prong collar in reverse. Reinforced Claws. Covered in scars.

    swift and quiet like a wraith of the shadows, eris approached.


    the house was old. it had been standing for some time. that much was clear. but it wasn't as beaten down and and rickety as to provide to be a poor base.


    the painting of the building was red. red like blood, covers peeling like a scab. she quite liked the color. it was fitting as a home as any.


    the mansion stood, tall and looming. perfect. eris carefully ascended the steps with the others, slipped inside. it was dark inside, but it was fine. it would be her home soon. the gal tilted her head back to inhale the musty air. what spot in this house could she claim for her own?

    BAXTON


    blood clan - guard


    baxton ** tom ** 11 moons ** blood clan ** flicker's mate



    Leaving? They were leaving! Oh things were changing too fast. Baxton's eyes flicked to his mother. New life for her.


    But what about Baxton?


    He was being forced to sudden change, change so quick and so fast!


    Baxton felt miserable, he was soaked. He felt cold. He felt alone. He walked looking at the house. It was grand, but he never understood luxuries. No point. It provided shelter, dry shelter. Hopefully warm.


    Mom.


    The words echoed in his head as Nana called his mother mom.


    Oh wait that's just Jailbird.


    Baxton's black figure walked quietly. A new place to live. But it would never be his home. Not the junkyard.

    (c)trexgirl


    Brief Tags-- 11 moons

    I WON'T GO QUIETLY —

    Nightingale couldn't say she'd been particularly attached to the sewers. She was still new to Bloodclan, after all, and the flood had already overtaken the place when she found herself on their doorstep. Nightingale also couldn't say she particularly liked being caught out in storms. Conclusion: a move would be splendid. However, as Caledon led them through the city and into unfamiliar territory, she felt doubts begin to gnaw at the back of her mind, growing even stronger as they stopped in front of what looked like a twoleg home.


    She hesitated. Really? A twoleg home? Nightingale was inexperienced in navigating the world of twolegs--to her, this looked like just another one of their nests. To her, it looked like it just might be occupied. Surely they weren't going to all cram in there like kittypets? But she shook her doubts off, forcing herself against all of her instincts to trust the male who now served as her leader, and followed the clan inside. She stifled a sigh of relief. It was abandoned. It was abandoned, and it was dry, and now, she supposed, it was home. A smile, barely noticeable, played across her maw.

    TAGS

    Tori

    The new territory seemed much better than the old one, more like the hotel Tori had grown up in. The scent of twolegs was barely visible, and after years of disuse the house seemed to have fallen apart a bit, but it was habitable. She said nothing for now, simply observing her new home, eyes quietly picking up things such as weaknesses others could potentially use, and things BloodClan could use. "If we're careful, we could gather up any broken glass scattered here and place them at entrances we don't use, and other items." She murmured, mostly to herself. "Could dedicate a few of the larger rooms for BloodClan members, and if they have a basement, use that for prisoners."

    (c)trexgirl

    The new territory. Hm. The tom was unsure about moving from the place he had been born, but who was to say it wouldn't be better? It wouldn't be similar? Weren't his clanmates more important, the feeling of Bloodclan that would be carried over to wherever the cats would move? Fresh air filling his lungs, he wondered what to think. What to feel.


    Gaze would rest on his clanmates, ones he felt he hadn't seen in ages due to his massive inactivity. It bit at him, and copper eyes would close in light shame as he wondered how much he wasfeeding into his clanmate's doubt of a younger deputy. Well, fresh home, fresh start.


    " Home." he'd mew, mind swirling as he listened to suggestions, glad Caledon was the one who was meant to sort them, to take care of them.


    DAMIAN - TOM - 13 MOONS - BLOODCLAN GUARD - TALL MUSCULAR TOM
    TAGS



    CUZ IM COLD ON THE INSIDE, THERE'S A DOG IN MY HEART

    It was, admittedly, a bit of a disappointment to be leaving the chaos of the junkyard. Damian had left the city streets and alleyways in favor of something new, and so while returning didn't leave him filled with the same strangeness or uncertainty as the others, it did feel a little like backtracking. Wet and tired, the large black tom followed the others into the house that Caledon had chosen. To a cat like him who had experience with two legs and their dens, it was quite obvious to him that this wasn't one that was used regularly by them. He'd spent many nights in places similar to this one, and so he wasn't at all surprised when the inside proved to be as beaten down and abandoned as the outside.


    He would pause a moment on the porch to shake out his coat a bit before heading inside just in time to hear Caledon formally declare it their home. "I can take a patrol out in the morning to do a perimeter check, make sure there's nothing dangerous hanging out nearby." Damian offered, figuring it was probably his job as a Guard to make sure that the place was actually safe for the rest of the clan. permission to find something dangerous for them to do a bit of plotting with?


    AND IT TELLS ME TO TEAR EVERYTHING APART.



    - art by wolfgang

    Clever -Social - Adaptable - Level Headed

    Dominating - Possessive - Violent - Reckless

    Active - Sarcastic - Ambitious - Few Morals

    Will Start Fights - Will Kill - May Show Mercy

    Wears a prong collar in reverse. Reinforced Claws. Covered in scars.

    GHOST


    Moving twice in the span of one leadership. Grand crumbling hotel to great crumbling sewers to this. Crumbling doesn't even fit, no words come to the albino. Pad to Toris side, listen to idea, nod agreement. Listen to Damian. Nod. Ideas to keep them safe - this is who they are now. On edge, needing to protect themselves. Never had this with Morag.


    "I'll help with that." State to Tori and Damian, head on their shoulders, thinking to the future. "Should we find a clear area to heal any injured? Water might have rushed some treatments off."


    (c)trexgirl