My Hell is your Hell {Open}

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    Rage, pure rage, and a raw hatred that wanted to destroy the world. And there was nothing left to stop it from doing just that. Haemon had forsaken him, taken his rotted heart and shredded it between her claws. The only tether to sanity was gone, choosing to abandon him and leave the Earth to it's doom. And that's exactly what would happen. The celestial heavens would shake with his wrath. Hell's fire would boil from the planet's crust and flood it's land in dread and agony. The mortal land was yet to meet his true self, they had only experianced a more softer side, even if they found that hard to believe. But it was true, oh so very and terribly true. The obsidian hellcat's steel black claws curled into the sand with a veangence, ripping long furrows into the grit, the malavolent tips dragging against the rough cave stone beneath the blanket of golden grains. He wanted his while paws to be forever stained crimson for such an outrage, such a betrayal. How could she?


    After he had fled the scene, the savage Warlord made his retreat into the more deeper and darker of caves carved into the cliff face, where the air was as diffucult to find as the desert prey. A solitary cavern was where he exposed his fury now by carving it into the rock around him, eyes glowing like compressed infernos as they illuminated the enveloping darkness. She had said his actions didn't please her, that she hated her. No, that was his own mind warping her words again to make him hate her more. But she might as well, Haemon had made it clear that his viciousness was not something she was willing to deal with. What did she expect him to be? A pro-clanners? She had said she'd rather have someone to talk out a conflict rather then fight it. Pathetic! No one talked out their differences anymore, they settled it in combat. But no, Haemon wasn't like that, or atleast that's what she had made clear. The black and white tom flung a paw dull of sand into the air and gave a snarl, is torn lips curling back to display jagged rows of teeth. His clan wanted a monster? Fine! They would get their monster.

    [align=center][color=black][font=times new roman][size=20pt]♛ Sinisterdeception ♛[/size]


    Listen to my pretty little lies
    Cause' I'm the heart you'll really despise
    When you take your dieing gasps
    And all your memories make a final relapse
    ---


    [ low muse i'm afraid + mobile ;u; ]


    Anyone with common sense would not confront an angered beast, especially if the beast was BloodClan's Prince of Blood, Jetstream. The seductive form of a dark red tabby was silhouetted against the desert sun. Her copper forge orbs spotted the monsturous form of the satanic Warlord as he retreated into the depths of BloodClan's cavernous home. The daughter of the now deceased Vehementspirit and third tier Breakinghalos slowly approached in all her long limbed, maned wolfish gait halting a good distance off and pacing the stretch back and forth, her gaze flickering to the location of the obsidian and white giant.

    Sighing, the deputy of BloodClan observed as the Warlord seemed to express his anger towards something, kicking up sand and all, dissapearing into the merciless caves near the life altering cliff. The humidity was starting to take its toll on Coppermine, addressing that clearly as beads of stingy sweat slowly dretted and weeped down across his face flank, anywhere actually as it drenched his flaming beastly mangled body in a darker shade of dampened sweat. The somewhat handsome deputy gave a random deep grunt, starting off towards his Warlord with a slated blank expression bestowed upon his facial appearance. Jetstream was obviously not okay. "What's going on there, Jet?" A loud eeire call summoned towards the equal sized tom, careless paws thundering against the compressed sand as the flame of BloodClan approached boredly.

    [align=center]Jetstream didn't like interruptions. He didn't like disturbances. He didn't like company. And right now, he really didn't like life. His mangled nose, if the mass of rotted, upturned cartilage could even be described as such, twitched at the new scent that somehow found it's way inside to tamper even further with his feral emotions. His eyes narrowed as he recognized the smell. Not bat, not lizard. Cat. A she-cat. The feminine oder unmistakable to any tom, even one with hardly a care of those such things. His ebony fur bristled at the recognition, fiery gaze spinning into vortexes of hunger and blood lust. After all this, some foll had dared enter the caves behind him to follow into the rank caverns? The beast's tattered ears pinned against his broad head as he allowed his nose to locate the directions of the scent, whirling around upon detecting it and sudden ly hurling himself at the she-cat with a horrid me growl.


    A monstrous paw pale as Death's steed arched through the air toward her head, razors of sinister ebony sprouting from each limb to stretch for her copper red face in the all intent to shred her cheek between his weapons. The force put behind the potential blow was enough to send her crashing and rolling sideways across the sand. Upon the first potential strike he reigned with another, muscles rippling through the entirity of his abused, scarred pelt as the tom's hind legs propelled him forward, launching him into a pounce towards the she-cat in an attempt to pin her to the dirt and secure her beneath his unnaturally large paws.


    The creature of hell's sharp teeth snapped just by her ear. "Are you spying on me? What the hell do you think your doing?" Came his angry hiss. The Warlord wasn't very happy that he had been seen in such a rabid state and hated her for interfering. That's when he heard it, the deputy's voice. His only friend, Coppermine. It was to dark to understand what was happening just upon entrance, but while most cats woukd care, the Warlord held little mind to what the deputy saw. He removed himself from the presence of the she-cat and stepped toward him with a low growl. "Haemon, she's the problem! She abandoned me, said it wasn't working because I was to violent! Said she wanted someone who settled conflicts with words. Words! We're BLOODClan, we use our claws to settle conflicts! We don't talk out our problems! We're vicious, the most vicious, and Haemon wants me to be softer!" Outrage! It was outrage!

    [justify][size=8]
    Batpaw looked at Jetstream's flight with worried curiosity. What had made him angered so? Her mentor's mate - as she didn't hear of the break-up yet - was usually so... erm... calm with things, taking everything in stride.


    The black and white apprentice tentatively took a step after the Warlord, but decided she really didn't want to chance her death today.


    Instead fractured words floated out of the caves. "Haemon... violent... conflicts... softer..." What did they mean? Batpaw knew that two other cats went in after Jetstream, including Coppermine, so she would probably be safe... right?

    "Dad," Twistedlies rounded a corner, having followed her mate into the depths of the cave out of curiosity as to what was up, not to mention the scent of anger, frustration, and of course her father emanating from inside. Her golden gaze was hard and slightly narrowed. Her family was broken up again? Was her mother just being hormonal? Twitching an ear at her father's words the daughter stepped forward, slightly coming out farther in front of Coppermine, "Maybe you should listen to her, at least consider it," she spoke truthfully, he eyes looking him over, "If you truly loved her, you'd try it. If it doesn't work out for you..well, then it just doesn't. Mom wouldn't say something like that if she didn't think it was for the best dad."

    [align=center][color=black][font=times new roman][ quick post on this account for unread replies purposes ]


    Lucky she expected such an response and dodged the powerful assualt by quickly ducking and rolling to the right her dark red tabby lips pulling back in a snarl. "I think what she meant was that attacking clanmates should be limited unless they're asking for it out of ignorance, an challenge, or are just an complete dumb*ss. You settle everything with combat in comparison to a simpler vocal resolution." The "older sister" of Coppermine commented in her fluent and poisoness tone. Technically she was second born and top dog of her litter meaning she was the sister of the feared deputy but was born slightly before him, same litter though so she was only older by small intervals. Sharply avoiding the enraged Satan she moved to stand by her, much more calm, brother. "Not that I take sides or have an right to the conversation in which I will see myself out verbally in the occasion of being asked to seeing as it is only civilazed and mutually respectful to be compliant to an clanmate's request."

    "I already tried!" Jetstream snarled at his daughter, the source of his anger switching from Sinisterdeception to his own daughter. The satanic creature took a threatening step forward. "I tried and I tried, but it wasn't good enough for her! But fine! If she wants a monster, she can have her God da**ed monster! She can have Satan, if that's what she wants!" He practically screeched at Twistedlies as his whote tipped tail lashed with fury. Lucky for Twistedlies, the words of his former target really pissed him off, and he changed his terrible gaze once more to the red tabby she-cat. "You don't understand! You never will!" The devil raised his head and smirked in a eerie and cruel fashion, his ravaged, twisted facial features preventing the attempted smug look and instead replacing it with a wicked mask of insanity. "Unless...someone makes you understand..." Then there came the laugh, the dark cackle that held within no humor, only a promise to terror me intentions. It could send chills across even a demon's back, and that was exactly the point.

    "Ssssometimesss thingsss jussst don't work our way, throwing a hissssssy fit about it ssssolves nothing." Sinuous mewed with a smirk, "If she ssssaid she wassssn't your type, don't force her into aaaauch a ssssituation, she issss leader after all. Her word issss law." The black serval was enjoying his spot in the shadows plsu this was amusing. "Private or perssssonal."[b]


    -


    Neopaw padded up to Batpaw, [b]"Whats going on?"


    -


    Carnivalcorpse was, well soaking up some sun, amused, if anything got too violent he'd step in, thats what he was here for anyways.

    Suddenly letting out a deep growl as his father-in-law yelled at his mate, the massive red tabby pressed against her side comfortingly. "Jetstream, she doesn't want a damn monster apparently. And even BloodClan has its boundaries. We aren't some group that constantly have a mind full of blood and killing motivations, this is what our leader is trying to say to you. You don't have to listen, yet I highly advise you do being that you love her." The deputy responded calmly towards the Warlord, not flinching one bit as he protectively stepped a bit forward in front of Twistedlies and his sister.

    [font=cambria]Tiresias, his ears practically attuned to Jetstream's voice now that he almost shadowed the Warlord, found himself in the middle of a temper tantrum. Haemon's calling splits with him? he realized gleefully. Much as the blue tabby loved his sister, his hatred for her ex-mate had been overwhelming. Now, he could disrespect the demon as much as he wanted -- no longer would he have to fear his sister's disappointment. "Crying doesn't suit you, Jetstream," the tom growled mockingly, allowing his words to carry through the echoing caves. His pelt had healed before; it would most likely have to heal again once this was over.

    Sinuous looked over at the tom, the leaders sister and crawled up next to him. "Ssssooometimessss othersss use an illusssion of ssstrength, the mind can make thingssss appear worsse then they are." He saidd looking up at the tom with a smile.


    [justify][size=8]
    Batpaw glanced at Neopaw, then back at the caves. "I'm not really sure," she replied with uncertainty, "But I could hear Jetstream yowling about something about Haemon and violence. Any ideas?"

    [font=cambria]Tiresias glanced up at the serval. Why in the heck was he talking like a snake? Deciding that it might be better to not know in this case, the blue tabby simply gave Sinuous a curt nod. "Then again, the illusion of strength is often all that is needed to gain power," he meowed calmly, odd-eyed gaze turning back to Jetstream with a harsh stare. "But all illusions are eventually revealed for what they are."

    [align=left][font=georgia]Hearing lound noises and voices, Lyaccon padded op to the cave. Poking his huge head inside, the wolf observed the cats with brittle, savage emerald eyes. 'Cats.....they're so strange. I don't understand half the things they do, or even why.' His distorted features twisted into a hideous grin, the scars at the corners of his mouth elongeating the smile and adding to the scary effect. If anything got bad, the silver wolf could stop a fight, he was a great deal bigger than even Jetstream, as Lyaccon was a behmoth in a wolf's eyes. Or he could add to the fight if it got good enough.....yeah!


    And anyway, this seemed to be something interesting to eavesdrop about, so he sat down just outside the cave, silvered ruff whipping about in the harsh desert wind. Scratching in the dirt with his hideously maimed paw, Lyaccon waited for something to happen.

    The silent cat's body bonded into to the dark walls that surrounded the small group of cats, molten gaze like the sun that rose into the blue sky each day was the only thing that could be seen through the darkness, the pelt was a frothy cream color, with darker cream stripes faintly merging in with the rest of his pelt, coat unkempt and untidy, signs of his neglect. Claws scraped against a rock on which the ghost perched, one paws tucked behind his bushy tail, and one dragging in jagged abs across the beige rock, creating lighter imprints of his damage, a horrible noise was emitted from the rock as he began lifting his paw, the sound echoed around the channels before eventually fading into silence.


    Owlpaw, slithered off the rock, his tail snaking behind his rump once again and swirling elegantly like a flag in the breeze. The Tom approached, his shoulders blade rode up and down on his back with each step, but no matter how thin he was, the tom's muscles still bulged from his neglected coat, rippling dangerously like a healthy cats muscles.