Posts by Radiantmemories x.g.h

Well. This was going to be interesting.

The scorching sun above casted strong rays of heat onto the white servals' back from where he lay on a boulder with the surrounding rocks and pebbles littering the sand around him. It was a beautiful, clear day.

Morie lay splayed out, basking in the heat with one paw hanging of the edge, resting his chin on the edge of the rock. He had been searching all day for scorpions to use for the weekly task given to him by Sleepy, however it seemed today the little creatures were scarce. Just his luck. He had given up looking and came to the sun rocks out of boredom.

Truthfully he was excited to host such a game because no animal, exept for the courageous and experienced, were able to catch a scorpion without getting stung. And when stung, it hurt. It would have been hilarious. Dissapointment washed over the second tier and he released a hefty sigh.

Just he was about to lose hope, some sand shifted under the watchful eyes of the sunlight to reveal a small, shiny black scorpion. To his glee he glanced around and realized there were more, big ones and smaller ones-all reasonably and dangerously sized- crawling around the pebbles and hiding within the shadows of the larger rocks. The servals' golden eyes widened with delight as he called out, "Scorpion catching game! You get stung, you lose. You catch one without getting stung, you win, and earn respect cus these things are evil." It came out far too loud and fast than he anticipated, but who could blame him? He had been waiting all day for this.

He glanced up at Bluepaw, golden orbs alight with excitement. A disaster? Not quite. Entertaining? A better way to put it. She would stay and watch, good. His lips curled in a slight smile. The little tigress had proven herself useful time and time again. "Most of the little guys I see here have large pinchers and small tails-indicating they're only weakly venemous, but you won't have to worry about that at all if you don't get stung." he informed the group with a pearly white grin. Morie looked to Eva, flicking an ear so as to evade a fly bite. "By all means," he grinned. He looked to Cosmee then, alarm flashing over his chisled features a moment. Oh, no no no. Not happening. "I forgot to add, no powers. My apologies. That just simply wouldn't be much of a challenge, would it?" The serval announced from his perch atop the boulder. "Let the game begin!"

The tall alabaster serval waited on one of the huge roots of some giant tree in their territory, a basket laying in front of his neatly crossed paws. Sleepy had instructed Morie to deliver a basket to their allies, here, and he happily obliged despite his confusion. This wasn't something he normally did. He had no idea what he was doing, truthfully, but perhaps the Flights would appreciate the kind gesture at the very least.

Silbling rivalry, juicy.

The large alabaster serval came to a stop somewhere among the group, paying close attention to Aryas' choice of words directed at the stranger. He was curious to see who exactly this stranger was and why she was met with such disdain, so the second tier took a seat and watched on.

Morie looked upon the young child, golden eyes squinting in the harsh sunlight. Moha? Maho? Either or, that was a rather peculiar name. Had she been abandoned? It was clear to him, as he crept closer towards the group, that someone had treated this child very wrong. Parents abandoning children was always something that, despite his distaste for young creatures, irked him. Some creatures really weren't capable of raising children. Thoughts throwing themselves around his mind rapidly the male brought himself to a seating position. He breifly glanced towards the sky, the beautiful sunrise temporarily calming him.

The tall alabaster serval approached the group, blinking bright gold luminaries at the stranger. Morie leaned back againsed his haunches in an attempt to get more comfortable. Glancing down at the others' suprising collection, the brit decided to speak. "Welcome to the Ruins, Beleth Asimov. Seeing as I somehow missed your arrival." A collector? Who carried with him nothing but his victims teeth? Yes, he approved of this one already. Why didn't he think of that?

The weaved basket hailed a scroll, neatly rolled up with a crimson ribbon. It had incrypted messages regarding the Red god religion- courtesy of Hebe forcing it in- a few cozy fluffy black blankets were folded neatly under it, (to keep them warm and cozy during storms) some sharp daggers, variations in size and appearance, and beautifully crafted flower crowns. "Greetings from the Sanguine Ruins," Morie begins, rising to his paws to dip his brod head towards the other who sloke to him curtly. "I bring gifts on behalf of the Ruins," the brit spoke, offering the gathered group a polite flash of his pearly white fangs in a grin. He dipped his head in greeting towards Freya as she spoke. "Much appreciated," he bowed theatrically towards the female humerously. "Of course. How are things in the Flights?"

"Sleepy!" the serval lept foreward, paws thrashing in the sand in a desperate attempt to save the aforementioned creature. Upon reaching where she lay he glanced down reluctantly and realized he was too late. Fury racked his body and he struggled to stand. He nodded to Hebe, agreeing with her suggestion. "They can't get away with this."

Prisoners were always something Morie didn't exactly understand. Grabbing them, plucking them from their families and lives and keeping them couped up. Just a simple exercise of power. It was all pointless to the third tier unless it resulted in a meaningful death. He didn't have a particular problem with it all, though- it spiced up the overall environment, which the second tier welcomed with open arms. "Comfortable?" the brit inquired upon approach, sand falling down the pit as the serval came to confront their prisoner. A sort of humoured sarcasm weaved its' way through his tone.

Morie glanced briefly towards Speedfreek, ear flicking with disdain. Someone was rather opinionated. He said nothing about this though, and responded to Beleths' response to his lastname being mentioned. "My apologies," the tall serval meowed earnestly. Must be a thing against his family. He didnt press on the matter, and opted to simply take a seat and wait the situation out. He stayed silent, he decided a while ago to not introduce himself unless asked to.

"What is this, Genie?" Morie inquired upon approach, casting a side clance at Beleth, his antics earning a snort of amusement from the second tier.

"One for me, darling," the second tier requested, coming to sit among the group and falling silent patiently.

"I'll take one, Hebe," the brit meowed as he settled among the group.

"Warm welcome to the Ruins, Kinship!" Morie purred, coming to stand beside Elian. He paused a moment, giving his next sentence some thought (for once). "If you have any questions or simply need someone to, uh, confide in, I'm always around." the brits' uncharacteristically awkward tone drifted off into fake confidence at the last of his sentence-topped off by a pearly white grin. He had been working on his politeness as of late. Was it paying off? Hard for him to tell. He wasn't exactly good at it anymore. The offer was genuine none the less, and he hoped the newcomer had felt at least a little bit more welcomed upon his arrival.

"Lovely!" Mories' chisled features broke out into a grin. "Consider it done, darling," he called over his shoulder as he trotted off excitedly.

Morie wordlessly stepped behind a booth, resting his elbows on the flat surface nonchalantly. He was about to murder with kindness.

/rushed!