paint it black </ venom

We've done a few more changes to the site you can read about HERE
  • irritation would be a light word for it. being sent out like an average soldier, demeaning, though it would be less so if widow had the guts to protest. there was no true claim for leader besides an old man nearly on the brink of death, and yet widow was still required to follow his bidding, the older more experienced cats of this weird conglomerate. transforming from a band of travelers to a gypsy town unfolding right in front of her eyes. material for nests being dragged in daily, groups with whetted teeth prowling out for a hunt. a sort of lazy organization was beginning, and of course, widow got sucked into it.

    she was experienced with the area, as experienced as any stray cat can be. she knew which streets to avoid, knew which dumpster had the best trash for bedding. though it seemed like a fools errand to send her and another able bodied female out to fetch the finest of old twoleg clothes and cardboard scraps. it would be a short journey, but considering the fact they had spent the first ten minutes in silence it was obvious the trek would feel much longer.

    "you wouldn't mind taking any shortcuts right?" widow hadn't even given the white female her name yet. she had trouble speaking, let alone to make introductions and small talk. she never knew how to introduce it into the conversation (or lack thereof). did she stop walking and turn to her comrade? did she just spit out her own name and expect a response? the latter seemed easiest, no eye contact required, they could keep moving without threat of ambush.

    "so, i don't know you-" two pale blue eyes blinked quickly, works sticking in her black painted throat. the small girl cleared a stuffed throat, "that's-that's not what i meant, i mean we haven't met- i'm widow."

    the white femme next to her could easily kill widow, she knew this. faintly scarred body with more defined muscles than the adventuring counterpart. venom had seen battle, widow had seen two strays bite each other on the tail and go running. the street suddenly felt a lot smaller after her small stuttering episode, prayers sent out into the void about going back in time. another reminder of why silence was a preferred method of existence.

       

    YOU'RE THE LOWEST TYPE

    widow + senior warrior of bloodclan + tags

  • Whether or not the young molly by her side made an effort to speak to her made little to no difference to Venom. She harbored no inner desire to befriend the feline, but if she spoke first, Venom would reciprocate, and reciprocate she did. With half-lidded eyes, she would avert her gazeto the monochrome clanmate by her side, eyes absent of hostility. "No. If you know one, lead the way." It felt silly, to immediately put trust in such a young cat, but Venom doubted she had ill intentions. Even if she ended up getting lost, it wasn't as if Venom was in much of a hurry to get anywhere anyway. These streets were foreign to her; for most of her life, the molly had only been accustomed to the spacious alleyways of the city she previously called home. Now, she was in a similar place, one that vaguely retained her old home's appearance but none of the familiarity. In such a situation, Venom had little choice but to put her trust into this stranger.


    As the alabaster feline followed closely by the younger molly, it became increasingly apparent that the air grew stranger, more awkward. Before Venom knew it, the piebald blurted words that she seemed to almost regret as soon as they left her lips. Venom would watch, almost amused, as her clanmate struggled to find the correct sentence, eventually settling for a mere introduction. If the poor dear had simply stuck her name into the air between them, Venom would have reciprocated in kind with no complaints, but it seemed as if neither of them were very well versed in the art of socializing. "Venom." Perhaps she should have added on some more words to put the longhair beside her at ease, but by the time the thought of compassion struck her, the moment of introduction had passed. And here Venom thought she had become less intimidating over time, if anything. She didn't know if being proven wrong was comforting, but either way, Venom's resting expression grew more lighthearted as their surroundings grew more and more barren.


    // i'M SO SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG!! i've had to deal with a lot of college prep these past few days :(( hope this was okay!

  • // akdlajslk likewise :sob:


    she had agreed with such careless ease. flexing her ability to take a deep breath and muscle against random spontaneity. if anxiety could be replaced with jealousy, it would be. widow didn't have her skill, much was the reason for her heightened level of discomfort. widow couldn't imagine being in these cats' situation, having to leave the streets she had always called her own, replaced by strangers and empty alleys.

    "that's good to hear, we'll.. we'll um, just cut through some abandoned buildings. it's safer under cover." widow wasn't entirely sure why she felt the need to explain herself to the other. perhaps it was the silence that sat between them like a juicy rat, begging her to take a bite with the aching threat that the other would lash out if she dared to feed. perhaps it was interest. widow was lost to her own thought process, merely letting instinct take over. venom wasn't like many of the cats she had met yet, dangerous and leering. in a way it was more threatening. as if she held the same sick beliefs but was better at hiding them behind a straight face and lazy eyes. though simultaneously it allowed widow to revert back to her rogue days, eyes darting back and forth and watching for any source of danger.

    venom. an ominous name, with no explanation to ease widow's achingly obvious anxieties. as if the conversation had never happened, silence fell between them once more. the black and white molly cleared her throat for only a moment before letting her body and feet do the talking. taking a turn into a once heavily populated storefront. a shell of a home rested atop, separated by an empty door frame and a long narrow staircase. it may have once been a hardware store of sorts. metal tools hanging from tarnished shelving. rope tying itself on the floor, easily dodged by some quick footwork. no sound except their gentle paws and the occasional breeze breaking through long shattered windows.

    "we might be able to find some things in here but its unlikely-" widow's words were quickly interrupted, not by her comrade, but by another creatures swift movement on the floor above them. maybe she could've relaxed more, maybe she should've been less jumpy. at this point it was all for naught. the femme jumped back, back connecting with one of the larger walls of shelving, disturbing even more of the remnants of twolegs.

    luck. it certainly was never on widow's side, though today seemed even more unfortunate. a pot of paint, somehow half crusted over and half melted by the greenleaf heat splattering to the ground with a deafening crash. widow's fur stood on end in shock but was just as swiftly stuck down to her body like glue, painted a gory shade of red.

       

    YOU'RE THE LOWEST TYPE

    widow + senior warrior of bloodclan + tags

  • Venom wasn't so sure about what made the femme beside her so different from the rest. She was relatively small and even meek to the extent that Venom's eyes would pass her by without a second thought in a crowd, yet if they were to land for even a second, they would be rendered glued. Unfortunately, Venom had no clue as to what could spark such a curiosity. Perhaps her form screamed of potential, of a hidden, maybe underrated strength underneath a soft exterior? She didn't know, but she wouldn't put it past the feline. The gentler cats she had come across usually harbored a strange power either in battle or social situations.


    As the two padded along, Venom kept herself stuck to reality only through force of will. The area they were walking through seemed particularly restful, so much so that the snowy feline would have zoned off if not for the moons of training she had gone through that helped keep her alert. Unfortunately, this level of awareness would not help her from eventually meeting the same fate as Widow. Even as the abandoned warehouse came into view, Venom let Widow lead the way, keeping a noticeable, but otherwise small, distance behind her. With the same light pawsteps as her clanmate, she tiptoed inside the building. It didn't take long for the sound of a creature upstairs to frighten both the mollies, although they reacted differently. While Venom tensed, looking up with gritted teeth and raised hackles almost in preparation to fight, Widow jumped back, the collision of her body sending a bucket of paint down upon her and her companion. Although Widow took the majority of the hit, Venom was far from spared as paint splattered across her back and torso, nearly becoming indistinguishable from the collar she wore.


    At this moment, a slew of emotions ran through Venom. The first was, unsurprisingly, shock. This state lasted the longest, but soon gave way to fear and then anger, which was much more fleeting, as it quickly morphed to disbelief. For a moment, Venom was sent back to when she lived at the train station, where a bucket of jarring, cold water was dropped over her, along with dead rats to add insult to injury. As such, her first thought was that Ryland and Sinclair were here in the building again, having Venom and Widow visit solely as part of a deliberate plan to humiliate them. Thankfully, Venom took notice of the thickness and heat of the liquid covering her body, and her involuntary sense of betrayal vanished. Now, Venom was left standing, back arched and jaw agape as part of the incredulous look upon her face. As realization hit her, so did the paint fumes. The femme somewhat caved in on herself, releasing a violent cough to expel the smell in her nostrils and mouth. "I-" What was she to say in this situation? She would be angry at Widow, but what was she to blame for? She had not planned for another creature to be here and was probably just as appalled as Venom was. Still, the hint of anger remained. "This- you--" The noise that escaped Venom's throat was an unholy amalgamation of a cough and a mirthless laugh at the hilarity of the situation. In this shocking circumstance, Venom could only bring herself to mutter one word to fully encapsulate her view on it all. "...Unbelievable."