♡ rue | painted brigade prank

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  • ------cerulean had very little spite for the shadow veil. the home of his mother and much of his family. though, it wasn't the nicest of places according the treasure trove that was cerulean's memories. the veil, ver, his mother, had torn apart birthplace of the blackhearted rogues for this place. yet, if it hadn't have been for them, cer would have never joined the brigade. more than ever the painted brigade had become a home so unlike, perhaps even better than the rogues. cerulean was seen as a vital part of the brigade community, he had worth and was applauded for his commitment to the clan. the rogues had never done anything like that for him, he was forever a kit in their eyes.

    he was sure any other clan whom had no regard for his true age would appreciate him just as much as the brigade had. but, he hadn't joined any other clan. out of their allies, the hyperian isles, the ruins, and the cartel, cer might have chosen to live in the cartel if he ever had the choice. the isles were far too pro-clan, the ruins a bit too dry despite their allegiance to the millions, and the cartel was, well, they just had everything and cer could have done whatever he wanted under their jurisdiction. cerulean didn't have a choice in the end. after months of blindly traveling agrelos, too enraptured by his mind's and power's delusions it was under the protection of the brigade that his mind had cleared. by the time he awoke he was already several weeks into his stay, taking that as an omen cer took roots in the colorful town. it was too bad that the brigade and shadow veil weren't allies. the sanctuary, the brigade's one other enemy wasn't anything to be concerned about in the slightest. in fact, cer probably should've aimed this humorous attack towards them instead of his family's homeland. for old time's sake it was, then.

    finding his way into the veil's territory had been a breeze. any confrontation was met with a memory-wipe and a simple wave of adieu. where cerulean was to carry out his schemes was a bit harder to find. having never been a part of the veil the whispers of unfamiliar spirits were no help -- many of them simply cursing him out for his mischievous deeds. gladly not too long after entering the territory cerulean found a quaint waterfall with a pond at it's bottom. many colorful fish swum about in the area, something which cerulean would have never have thought to call the mystic falls. telekinetically letting his paints fall to the dark ground cerulean focussed his light manipulation on turning the crystal blue waters into a more foreboding red. in a minute's time the entire pond, including the falls, had become a brilliant vermillion. it was a message of war from the brigade, a message of love towards his worried mother. placing a blue tag, '♡,rue' on a nearby pine the tabby took a moment to appreciate his own work before setting up a little tripwire system in front of the tagged pine, set to send a ricochetting red paint balloon down onto any passerby. with a few last touches cerulean was happy with his work. this was sure to send a message, wether it was mixed or not. giving one final glance at the marred meadow cerulean made his leave, returning once more to the brigade.


    painted brigadier turned the mystic falls vermillion red through light manipulation, it'll wear off in a week.

    tagged a nearby pine with '♡,rue'

    set up a tripwire system in front of the tagged pine, hitting it will cause a red paint balloon to drop.

    tags current body


  • All of Órfhlaith’s opinions on the Brigade were based off of second hand accounts. The only thing she had seen directly from them were her clanmates injuries after the raid and the trespasser a while back. She knew that she didn’t exactly want to meet a Brigadier under the wrong circumstances, and that was pretty much it. Since joining the Veil she hadn’t felt much need to travel outside of the territory, much less all the way to the Painted Brigade’s territory so felt herself lucky enough to have avoided any unsavoury interactions with them.

    However, coming across the newly tinged bright red of the mystic falls certainly shook her. She made no link to the Brigade until she started to slowly come closer, wary in case of any enemies loitering. She saw the tag first, a confused expression on her face, who the hell was Rue?

    Upon taking another step forward though she definitely decided she did not want to meet this Rue. As she stepped more on top of the tripwire than pulling in forward. The first thing she felt was something falling and getting caught on one of the prongs of her right antler before a split second later, red paint exploding all over her face, neck and part of her shoulders as she rested up with a surprised screech.

    Bastard!” Was all the mare could think to say before going over to the falls to inspect it closer. “Someone should get over here!” The Doneguese mare would call out, deciding against summarising the situation she found herself in, thinking someone would have probably heard her screeching whinny before they heard her call out anyway. But it seemed to much to describe succinctly anyway as she drew further from the lake, attempting to shake whatever paint she could from her mane without sending it into the falls.



    she rules her life like a fine skylark —— tags.



    — órfhlaith faelan | shadow veil | spiritcaller / darkseeker | penned by KnivesInSpace —

  • Ewan had never had any experiences with the Brigade, at least not until now. The world outside the Veil was mostly a mystery, save for the few days he spent lingering around the Ruins. Other than that, Agrelos was mostly undiscovered territory, and groups he hardly knew the name of. Frankly, he liked it that way. Ewan obviously loved to enjoy the attention and companionship of as many people as he possibly could, but he wasn't about to travel to a million different places. He was content here. Who cared what other groups there were?

    His mindset would be presumably be different if he had the experiences some older Veilers had with other groups, of raids and turmoil and injury and death. However, for Ewan's time in the Veil, no more than brief talk of raids past had occurred. Again, at least not until now.

    At Orfhlaith's call, the shepherd appeared at the scene, eyes slightly widening at the stark new color of the waters. Following the same Path Orfhlaith had taken, he then finds the carving, the signature. No clue who Rue was. Clearly not a Veiler. Though someone familiar with the Veil at least, or someone who was just lucky enough to get just the right shade of red to represent their Shadowkeeper.

    "Huh," was the first thing that left Ewan's mouth, followed by, "I dunno, I think it looks kinda cool."




  • Val knew nothing of the Painted Brigade. In her life she'd traveled the least she could, mostly sticking around the pines. She liked the pines, it was comfortable and it was home. Everything from the trees to the needles that littered the ground to the snow that fell come winter time, she enjoyed it. The little cream point lynx couldn't imagine being happy anywhere else.

    She hears a scream and rushes to it, weaving through the forest without effort. Relief fills her at the sight of the two, glad that she's not the only one who heard - oh, Orfhlaith was red. And so were the falls?

    "It's kinda pretty." Valorpaw agrees as she enters the scent, mismatched gaze traveling the waterfalls with a slight smile coming to her maw. Her nose twitched at the unfamiliar scent, wiping the smile off her face as she worriedly looked to the Spiritcaller student. "Do you need help cleaning that off? I can get you a towel or something?"

  • Ver would never regret merging the Rogues and Veil and as much as the castle and all its memories held to her it was the only way to make sure that her children were safe. The rogues lacked a defensive force and had been targeting by the Exiles just before the kids were born, they could’ve lost the castle and their home to the siege but they had succeeded in chasing them off their land by the skin of their teeth but that didn’t take away what had been done and that the Exiles could come there at any time and that she and a handful of adults wouldn’t be enough to overpower them to give the kids enough time to hide. It was a hard choice to choose the Rogues safety over their pride but it was a decision she didn’t regret in the slightest. She thought the kids would understand that but they still needed time to mature to grow and see that in the end it was the only logical choice.

    that’s what growing up meant, making choices for yourself that even you didn’t want to do.

    Her son deciding to join the Brigade was far from a logical choice but alas there’s nothing she could do but try to convince him that there was more sensible places to live. She never thought he would pull anything on the Veil though even as the voices in the trees hissed irritably about the desecration of their home by some devilish imp of a boy. The spirits hissed about everything, snapped at her wherever she went and she’d learned to tune them out whenever she could. The Shadowkeeper makes her way over to the group grumbling in annoyance at the Mystic falls and the color it was made into. Vermilion was always an ugly color to her, it was a reminder of what she was and what she’d done it represented her and for that reason it was her least favorite color. That and the blend of orange and red wasn’t the nicest shade of red.

    ”that’s very kind of you to offer to help Orf Valor” she woofs softly down to the apprentice as she comes up behind her forcing her gaze away from the falls. She would then look up to Ewan and the others ”It may look ‘neat’ but I don’t want anyone drinking or bathing in it” she woofs cautiously to them ”As for the Brigade I don’t think we should let this slide as small as it is. We’ll hit them as hard as we did the first time and maybe they’ll get the hint we aren’t to be fucked with at all” this was her command, her clan to lead and she would do the best for her people and didn’t want any of their enemies thinking of them as weak. She doesn’t know either that this is her sons doing but it hardly mattered he was just a pawn of the Brigade and while she would do whatever she could to get him out of the crossfire she couldn’t protect the clan he resided in. He was the exception, the only exception.

    ”Shadow Veil isn’t a bunch of pushovers” unlike the Ruins.



    Not the Painted Brigade again. The enemy clan had been relatively quiet recently, and she thought that they had screwed off and decided no to mess with Shadow Veil anymore. Boy, was she wrong! While Calina had not fallen victim to the red paint balloon, she was almost as displeased if she had. Poor Órfhlaith. Unlike the mare, and quite a few other clanmates, Calina had participated in a raid against the Painted Brigade. She had sustained a few injuries, none deep enough to scare, but painful enough that she held a grudge against them. Plus, they had harmed Junepaw, and Valerian, when he had been around, for no good reason. It wasn't as if the Veil had even been retaliating at that point. These irritated thoughts popped up in her head after she had rushed over upon hearing Órfhlaith's call, and realizing that one, she was covered in paint, not blood and two, that the stench of the Painted Brigade hung heavily in the air.

    Then there was the waterfall, colored an extravagantly bright red, with a contrasting tag of blue words on a tree nearby. She read it aloud automatically. "Rue?" Her tone was confused, as she tried to make sense of the heart and the word next to it. What was a rue? It took her a moment to realize that it was probably a name. Her attention turned to Ver as she spoke, taking in the shadowkeeper's words. If there was anything that Calina liked about Ver, it was that she didn't let the Veil get pushed around- perhaps to an extreme, but Calina loved extremes. "So, y'mean we're raiding them again?" That was what they had done the first time, right?



    roleplayed by tropics / click for tags / sig art by kedamono / shadowkeeper of shadow veil / dumbass

  • "Aye that's kind but a' can deal with it, t'anks though." The equine would say with a smile. Her green eyes squinted to avoid paint dripping into them. Droplets falling off of her mane and antlers every time she moved. She was more annoyed than angry, it was going to take forever to get all the damn paint off of her, and she couldn't wash it off in any major water sources for contamination. For now she just dealt with it as if her entire neck, face and shoulders weren't a bright shade of red over black with the viscous liquid dripping uncomfortably from said parts.

    Another raid over this? Seemed a bit overkill to the mare but she wasn't the one in charge. Though she'd probably go this time now that her medicinal skills were better honed and she'd be of better use, even if her figting skills were still abysmal, but she'd just have to try and avoid any combat. "A'll even help you'se this time if so." The friesian states as she lets out a huff when Calina brings up the note. She'd almost mistaken the note as a mispelling of the word 'rua' funnily enough meaning red in Irish, and if she'd have been back home, with the theme of the red paint and lake she would have taken it as such. But it seemed unlikely, still. "Either it's someone who t'inks they're funny but can't spell or it's supposed to mean somet'ing to someone a' guess." A grumpier lilt in her tone than usual as she tried to flick the hair over her forehead to somewhere else to keep it out of her eyes.


    she rules her life like a fine skylark —— tags.



    — órfhlaith faelan | shadow veil | spiritcaller / darkseeker | penned by KnivesInSpace —