I have super interest in spectrumkit
Username: Boquet
Display: Bouquet
Roleplay sample with my highest damn muse ever:
There's a special color for blood isn't there? Drip ...... Drip..... Drip. A certain crimson. Like the sun as it just sinks despairingly beneath the horizon. Roulette had always enjoyed that color. Now she was that exact shade, a crushing scarlet. Blood poured from who knows where like a wave. She was swimming in the real Red Sea. The scent like a mettalic poison, filling her scent glands. Invading her petite body. Her maw opened in a shrill piercing wail, its scource the distress of this vibrant nightmare, She feared had come alife in her own little reality. As it hit her in the face she choked on its sickly mixture of iron, oxygen, and pain. This moment is when the whispers came like a crowd of people at the operay after its actors take there final bows. As she looked around crimson eyes broke through the darkness and seven cats strolled out, One black as the darkest midnight sky on a starless night. One the color of freshly fallen powdered snow. Two, Twins perhaps of a brindle shade mixing and entwining like a work of art. Then a orange tom with massive paws and a flame colored pelt. A small measly cat with silver fur like the stars themselves. Then the largest of all a smoky tuxedo cat with scars from many battles escaped. Untill now. You have let the rivers run red....... "No! Stop go away your not real! I'm not that cat anymore!" What you have done you must repay! "No, i'm not a healer anymore!" she wailed out loud. Seven years and seven lives let one die and you'll be mine......... The voices appeared to Chant, and sway like leaves in Autumn right before they fall. The word mine was tossed about from mouth to mouth over and over again, rolling over many tongues. Her vision faded as she swirled awake.
She woke up screaming with no sound the abillaty to speak long forgotton. Her voice was cracked and brittle. As bone dry as the sahara desert in the dry season. She almost didnt know where she was...! What with the nightmare, and the fact that she was covered in blood,. Her favorite shade too, the white she cat was as crimson as the wave in the dream. As she looked around she knew its scource. She knew it as well as she knew the back of her paw. The history of the beautiful scarlet matter wasn't the dream. It was the seven dead cats laying limp around her. They hadnt even screamed yet their still eyes already looked like the gnarled hollow eyes of the dead. Only these eyes in there varying shades of green and amber all showed the terror they had felt. The horror they knew as her black ivorys ripped through their tender flesh goring their bodies, in ways no other cat would have ever dreamed up. The worst part was she knew she had done this to them, now she would have to fix her mistake. "Life wasn't easy but it's gonna be a hell of a ride snowflake" she mocked her mothers old saying with disgust ending it with her own snappy "The key word is Hell, mother" she suddenly felt the urge to laugh. A boom of an psychotic laugh filled the forest of pines and maples and even the occasional sycamore. Birds of every species known to this region, flocked away from the sound. It's likely they were fearing the noise of her laughter. Yet she pretended they fled her cruelty not her commotion. She looked up at the sky and the voices seemed to echo in an undying manner of applause. Seven years....Seven lives let one die, You'll be mine. with a final glance at the limp already rotting corpses around her she knew with striking assurance they had given her a warning. In respect she memorized there faces. One black as the darkest midnight sky on a starless night. One the color of freshly fallen powdered snow. Two, Twins perhaps of a brindle shade mixing and entwining like a work of art. Then a orange tom with massive paws and a flame colored pelt. A small measly cat with silver fur like the stars themselves. Then the largest of all a smoky tuxedo cat with scars from many battles escaped. Untill now.
Other: ^^
