Posts by Massacre

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[size=9pt]If Massacre's personality needed to be summed up in exactly one word, 'creepy' would suffice. One thing is for certain about Massacre - he is not entirely sane. However, nothing else can be said with certainty for him, because he is entirely unpredictable. Massacre grew up abused, with a skewed sense of moral and justice. Because of this, he takes pleasure in hurting others in the same way that he was hurt as a kit.

He revels in the suffering and misery of others - particularly when it is caused by him. He will often hunt down random victims whom he considers 'weak' or 'worthless' and then attack them and torture them to death, or to death's door. He takes pleasure in torturing others and forcing she-cats, because it makes him feel superior and above them. He only enjoys this so much because at heart, he feels wretched. Seeing others in pain caused by him makes him feel strong and powerful.

Massacre has high self-esteem on the surface, however. He is extremely self-confident, generally thinks of himself as superior to all other cats although he will not always show it. He is notoriously fickle with his loyalties, and can even show hints of a multiple-personality-disorder, taking on completely different and varying personas depending on who he is talking to. It is questionable whether he does this voluntarily as all part of his act, or it is something he has no control over because it always seems so real. However, despite all this, Massacre is extremely intelligent. To the point where it is disturbingly. And of course, he does not let such a virtue go to waste.

Highly deceptive, Massacre is more clever than a fox. He's sly and manipulative, excellent at finding exactly how to work his way into the depths of someone's heart and then start to unhinge them piece by piece from there. He finds emotionally tormenting someone almost as satisfying as physically hurting them. He can also often use his cleverness to manipulate every situation to his favor, having a subtly shown but disturbingly intimate knowledge of psychology. He is also very adept at hiding his true thoughts and feelings.

Indeed, Massacre is a creepy cat. He isn't a cannibal or anything like that, but he's a sadistic, manipulative and unpredictable animal that has questionable sanity. He finds pain to himself enjoyable as well as to others because he feels 'alive' when he is in pain, and though he doesn't go looking for fights, he never backs down from one. He's passive-aggressive, just the kind to smile sweetly and charmingly into your face before he tears your throat out, or rip someone from limb to limb and then cradle them like a kit until they died.

Despite his intelligence, Massacre is still rather one-sided. He's pinned on his beliefs and will stand by them with frightening stubbornness. He's narrow-minded in his views, which stems from the teachings of his abusive father. He also desperately fears to ever be out done by any cat, in strength or intelligence. He is also somewhat self-deluding with his views of himself, often augmenting his greatness mentally far more than he actually is good. However, this all just makes him all the more dangerous and unpredictable. Tread with care around this cat.[/size]

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[size=9pt]In appearance, Massacre does not seem to be at all particular. He is a rather average cat, with a pure black coat and has only a slightly above average height and weight. But do not be fooled, for this build enables him to do many things. There is not one pound of superfluous flesh on his body. It's all muscle, bone and fur. He has enough bulk so that he can be a powerful opponent in battle, but enough leanness so that he is agile and swift on his paws, capable of speed and maneuvers that even the most graceful large, bulky cat can't match.

He has pale yellow eyes that at times, seem almost absent of color. They always hold a terrifying, cold and calculated look that can be quite intimidating, unless he wishes to appear friendly and amiable. His pelt is short, dense and coarse, nothing beautiful or special, but something useful in most forms of weather, reasonably water resistant and an extra layer of light protection in battle.

He's not particularly handsome, but certainly not ugly. No visible scars mar his pelt or body, for despite his love for battles, he has enough ability to keep himself from being maimed. His coat is usually smoothly groomed and arranged in a deceptive way to give those who judge by looks a better opinion of him. At times, he can behave, speak or look a tad insane, but those times are rare, for the signify he is loosing a hold of himself, and he seldom does. He has a deep, commanding voice that is the kind which, if he called, you would stop and listen. He bears himself with pride and superiority.[/size]

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[size=9pt]Massacre was second-born to a pair of loners known as Typhon and Iola. His father was a severe and abusive tom that had seduced his mother and then begun to abuse her, which lead to her becoming more or less emotionally damaged and dysfunctional. Thus Massacre and his siblings grew up as neglected children, abused by their father and ignored by their mother.

However, one must bear his lot in life, and Massacre and his siblings did just that. They grew up following their father's views. Typhon carefully taught his children of how to kill and cause pain to others, and taught them that they should never let any cat become better than them. He was highly demanding, easily angered, and had a terrifying temper when roused. The one cat that escaped the worst of Typhon's teachings was Milada. She had been born with some defects, and was significantly weaker than her littermates.

Because of this, she was unable to participate in many of the harsh training methods that their father forced them to do, and was therefore spared from much of his cruel teachings. Her brothers, however, being only kits, viewed this as her being 'protected', and hated her for her weakness. Massacre came to think that all she-cats were weak and useless because of this, seeing how his mother behaved and how useless and feeble his sister was, he grew to hate them with a passion. His father eagerly encouraged this belief of his, and carefully kept the kits isolated from the world so that they would never see the truth - and that when they finally did, they would already be too far gone to change their beliefs.

And so, with the seeds of insanity carefully planted and nurtured by their father, the kits grew steadily into adults. When the kits reached nine months of age, in another one of their father's abusive fits, the brothers ganged up on him and killed him with their newly learned knowledge. Typhon fell because he himself had taught his kits to never let anyone behave in such a way to them. In their scorn and the heat of their rage, they also disposed of their sister and drove their mother off.

After this event, with newly boosted ego's with their successes in their first killing, the brothers entered the world and began to wreak havoc among all those who had the misfortune of finding themselves within a 5km range of these brothers. After various killings and won battles, after tearing down cat after cat, Massacre became proud, and almost conceited. He renamed himself Massacre and now roams the land, in search of victims to terrorize.[/size]

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[Mind if I pop in with Massacre? :3]

It was always the same story.

They came, thinking they could sneak past Skull's infamously rigorous border defenses, thinking themselves... who knew what; quick-witted, strong, lucky? The truth was, they were none of these when it came to SkullClan. Any intruder in Skull was fair game, a cat that clearly needed a good lesson on sense. And any intruder in Skull should hope they didn't meet up with him.

A wicked grin touched the coal-black tom-cat's maw as he watched the brown tom below him skulk through the undergrowth. Admittedly, he wasn't too bad in the stealth department... unfortunately, however, that was nowhere near good enough for a hawk-eyed cat like himself, who spent much of his time patrolling the borders, keeping watch from obscure spots, having every pawstep of his territory memorized, he knew when there was a disturbance.

Like how there was one right now. Massacre was perched on a low branch in a tree. Below him, the cat was just reaching a point directly below his branch. Time to go. Massacre rose from his crouch, and like a liquid shadow, he sprang gracefully from the branch, and landed right in front of the brown tom. Casually, he took up a confident stance, at the same time standing directly in the path of the intruder, so that he would not be able to continue without facing Massacre.

A light grin flickered across his muzzle.

"Goin' somewhere, mate?"

zenzan wrote:

Ixxr's head snapped up, seeing Massacre. "I-I-I uhhhmmmm...." He was speachless. It seems he had underestimated the stealth of the Skulls. He turned and ran, knowing that Skulls were too dangerous to fight alone.

"-I-I uhhhmmmm...."

The tom whirled around and made a dash for it. Of course, Massacre had expected this. What else did intruder's do these days? They always turned and ran at the sight of him. How irritating. However, in expecting this, he'd also been prepared for the tom to run. Just as the brown cat was turning to make his escape, just for one split second, the curve of his neck was open for full attack to Massacre.

And that was when he moved.

There was no sound, no screech of fury, no snarl, not so much as a growl or even the rustle of a leaf beneath his paws as he sprang forward without warning. He moved with complete silence, absolute grace and power. In a fraction of a second, he closed the small distance between them, and before the brown tom had even fully completed his turn, Massacre would be upon him.

His jaws gaping wide, pearly white teeth flashing, he would lunge for the brown tom's neck, aiming to seize him firmly around the spine, or at least get a good mouthful of flesh. If he made contact, he would immediately clamp down hard and force the tom downwards and forwards, using his own momentum as well as the brown tom's as he tried to make his escape. At the exact same time as he attempted to grab the tom by the neck, he would also twist slightly and aim to smash his shoulder full into the brown tom's side, a blow that would hopefully throw him clear off his feet, or at very least wind him.

If both his attacks somehow missed by some dumb luck on the part of the intruder, he wouldn't let a moment go to waste. He'd use the momentum of his lunge forward to continue to run alongside the tom, shouldering him whenever he could but keeping his own balance, his jaws opening and snapping shut like bear traps at the tom's neck until he got a grip on something.

No one escaped his wrath.

His attack hit home.

The deeply satisfying sensation of his teeth sinking deep into the flesh of his victim's neck accompanied by the sudden taste of the salty tang of his blood gave Massacre pleasure. Again the sense of yet another cat helpless beneath his paws lent him a feeling of superiority, of power. As one might have guessed by now, he was not entirely sane... but that fit just perfectly with SkullClan.

Just as he had wanted, the brown tom crashed to the ground. In an instant, Massacre, still keeping his jaws clamped around the tom's neck, tried to pin one forepaw over the tom's forehead, thereby driving his muzzle into the ground, and the other over his hindquarters. He highly doubted this cat would have a chance to even try to escape - he still seemed dazed from the impact of Massacre's attack. Anyhow, if Massacre succeeded in pinning him, the tom would be trapped securely between his paws. And at his mercy.

If the cat did put up a struggle, he'd only find Massacre would hurt him more. If he had the good sense to hold still, he might be able to escape with minimal damage to his neck. Massacre's teeth had sunk in clean and deep, but the wound wouldn't heal too badly if the brown tom didn't make it worse by thrashing around - that would only make Massacre hold him tighter and let his teeth rip mercilessly through his flesh until he at last succumbed to either the pain or exhaustion.

He wouldn't lift his fangs from the cat's flesh until he was certain that he was subdued. He could remain in position, holding him down by the neck, until his forepaws were able to pin the cat down firmly. He would wait, ready, in case the cat struggled. Only once he was absolutely certain this cat would stay put, would he at last release his neck. And even then, he'd be ready. There was no way he'd let this cat escape now.

A devilish grin flickering across his maw, he'd gaze down at the brown cat, not one inkling of sympathy touching his black heart. "That's much better," He would purr. His tone would be relaxed, friendly, even. A contrast to the cruelty with which he kept the tom flattened in the dirt. "Keep behaving like this and you'll make a good Skull in no time." He continued cheerily. Then, abruptly, his eyes would narrow and his tone would become far more serious and sharp. "Now, tell me your name and business here."

Ah very good - he was proving himself to be one of the more intelligent specimen already. The brown cat made no more attempts to struggle, clearly aware that Massacre's teeth could do far more injury if he moved than if he lay still. "My name's Ixxr... And I was just trying to pass though." His mew was muffled against the earth. Massacre loosened some of the pressure over his head slightly so that he could talk more clearly and leaned over him so that Ixxr could feel his hot breath against his check.

"Passing through, eh?" He stroked the tom's head with his paw. He would move his muzzle slightly, so that his breath would stir the fur on Ixxr's ear. "Do you know where you are?" He asked in a very, very soft voice.

The kind of voice that thinly veils deep menace.

Beneath his paw, Massacre felt Ixxr shift his head slightly, as though giving a feeble attempt at a nod. "Yes. This is Skull's territory. I thought I could be sneaky but..." "Sneaky?" Instantly the slack was off - Massacre allowed his claws to slide out and rested them lightly over Ixxr's fur. Ready to sink them in at the slightest provocation. Just a mere, gentle reminder that he wasn't one to be trifled with. That Skull wasn't a Clan to be trifled with.

However, despite this, Massacre adopted a stern, gentlemanly demeanor, a deep frown furrowing his brow as he leaned back slightly to appraise Ixxr with his malevolent pale yellow eyes. "Sneaking around unauthorized is deeply frowned upon in SkullClan," Massacre informed him, his deep voice smooth and disapproving.

Well, he was clearly young, this one. It was almost disappointing - he wasn't even making an attempt to make excuses, cover up or anything. Massacre heaved a deep, exaggerated sigh, as though he were attempting to explain a complex concept to a young kit, then bent down once more. "Would you care to tell me exactly what you were trying to do on our land?"

"A shortcut."

A most unsatisfactory response.

It appeared to be the truth though. But if that was the case, this cat either obviously and naively had little to no idea about the nature of Skull, or simply lacked the brain cells to know better. "I see." A weighty pause as he considered the brown tom beneath his paws. Of course, letting him go at this point would be out of the question - he had intruded. But what to do with him now? He had obviously been improperly raised - any mousebrained fool in Skull knew that it was toms that were the superiors in this world. Ixxr, on the other hand, did not behave as though he were such.

He still might make a useful servant to Scythe, however. The younger and more naive he was, the better. The easier he would be for them to mold into the very image of what a tom should be in Skull. However, he might also cause significant problems if he lacked the aggression it took to handle the hoards of she-cats they kept in their caverns under lock and key. There were certainly some feisty ones in there - ones that needed discipline. And a cat needed to be tough, clever and assertive to discipline others.

"That will be the last shortcut you'll take," Massacre informed him. His voice was smooth and silky. "There are no shortcuts in Skull. And that's where you're headed."

A pause, to allow for a reaction. Then Massacre added with his infamous chesire cat grin, "I'm Massacre, by the way."

In response to his words, Ixxr nodded. He certainly was compliant, this one. Maybe he would survive. There was nothing Scythe liked more than a cat who bowed unquestioning to his will. Massacre retracted his claws and meowed calmly, "Now, I'm going to let you up. But you're going to do exactly as I tell you unless you want me to finish chewing through your neck. Understood?" He would wait for the assent until it came, and then withdraw, taking a step back to allow Ixxr to rise.

He would be watching him. His sallow eyes would be following Ixxr's every move, ready to spring upon him once more if he showed any signs of resistance or made an attempt to escape. Once the brown tom was on his feet, Massacre would move behind him and nudge him roughly on the rump, herding him forward. "This way," he growled, shoving him in the direction of the camp.

Massacre would walk behind Ixxr - he wasn't taking any chances. He would have the brown tom full in his peripherals the entire time, and there would be no chance that he would be subject to any surprise attacks or attempts to escape. He would keep himself strictly with the upper hand the entire time, with Ixxr walking in front of him, it would be at his leisure to pounce on the brown cat if he made any suspicious acts or attempts to bolt.

Once they reached the yawning black hole that lead into the caverns of Skull Massacre would shove Ixxr from behind again. "Get in. This is our camp." And he would continue to walk forward, forcing Ixxr in ahead of him if he balked, or simply trailing him closely if he walked on. For several moments, the two cats would be enveloped in pitch blackness, and then the tunnel would widen into a wider cavern, with a few cracks in the ceiling allowing light to filter through the darkness and make the main cave of the camp visible. As they reached the cavern, Massacre would pad forward to Ixxr's side.

The air inside the cave was dank, musty and stale, filled with the sour tang of fear, suffering and misery. Massacre inhaled deeply as though he were drinking a breath of morning air, welcoming the scents as though they were the most wonderful he'd ever smelled. Then his pale amber eyes sought Ixxr's watching his expression carefully, a crooked grin plastered across his maw.

"Welcome to Skull, chum."

For a moment, the brown tom was silent. Massacre was rather impressed despite himself of how indifferent Ixxr managed to keep his expression - not many cats could manage that at their first glance of Skull. At a length in which he glanced around, getting his bearings, Ixxr even nodded, drawing in a sharp breath as Massacre had done, as though welcoming the scents. Ah, he'd definitely fit in well, this one. Massacre could already see - he was going to do just fine. He just needed to work on his aggression and cruelty and he'd make a perfect Skull. A perfect warrior of Scythe's.

"Where to?"

Ixxr asked Massacre. The black tom appraised him with expressionless pale yellow eyes for a moment, taking note of the faint hint of carefulness in Ixxr's every action, well aware of his wariness. Some day, that wariness would become confidence. No tom that was a part of Skull would ever walk about feeling wary. All in good time, this cat would learn.

"The Castle." Massacre answered after a long pause. His jaws parted in a toothy grin, his pearly white fangs flashing in the dimness of the cavern. "Come. It's this way." There would be no chance of Ixxr escaping now, and there were plenty of other Skull about for back up, so Massacre permitted the brown cat to trail behind him. However, part of him knew that there was very little chance Ixxr would actually try anything - and if he did, boy would he be sorry.

Rapidly, the wide cavern narrowed into a thin passage that was only wide enough for perhaps two or three cats to walk through side by side at the same time. The earth began to slope gently upward, the angle increasing with every step. The ground was cold and grimey underpaw, leaving an unpleasant odor and substance on the paws of any creature that walked the passage. Massacre strolled along as though oblivious to this, however. Coming to a set of stairs, he sprang up the large steps without a pause, taking them easily into stride.

It was dark, and Ixxr would have to react quickly to jump up the step fast enough, or at least halt before he crashed into it head on. Like a black wraith, Massacre would be there a moment, and gone the next, having sprang onto the first step. It would be a first test of sorts, to see just how well this cat kept his wits about him. The long, spiraling staircase would continue for quite some time, until they reached the high tower of the castle which the caverns lead to. The narrow passage broadened into yet another cavern, here the sour stench of misery even more prominent than in the first cavern. The tower top had several different chambers, each guarded heavily with Cave-watchers. Usually, the dank, foul air was also filled with the howls or moans of those being tortured, or those locked alone in their confinement in the dark rooms.

Massacre lead Ixxr to the one nearest to the staircase, nodding to the guards at the entrance of the room before he stepped past them. He would then halt and flick his tail, gesturing for Ixxr to join the few cats already sprawled across the floor of the room. "You will remain here until we can assess your abilities and finish teaching you our ways. Once you have been deemed trustworthy, you will be granted full access to Skull's every chamber. The speed at which you achieve this will depend on your own capabilities. Do not make any attempt to escape," Here, Massacre flashed him a devilish grin, "Or I swear to Fortis I'll deal with you personally. Understood?"

((Lol, consider your vengeance successful XD ))

Ixxr nodded in assent to Massacre's words, moving deeper into the room and seating himself. As the brown tom swiped a tongue over his paw, he asked "When do we start?" Eager one, was he? Massacre let out a cold chuckle. "If you're really so eager... now." His head snapped up and his sallow-eyed glare fixed on the other prisoners sprawled across the floor.

"Get out of the way, mangy flea-bags. To the wall, all of you. Quickly," Massacre snarled at them. He waited. He counted to three. With a ferocious hiss, any stragglers too slow to get out of the way he forcibly moved, sweeping from one end of the room to the other, swinging a powerful forepaw left and right until the center of the room was empty. Good, now they had enough space, and an audience. With a jaunty stride, Massacre stalked back over to Ixxr and stood at his side. A cruel, devilish grin carved on his muzzle, he jerked his head sharply, gesturing towards the end of the room.

"Alright. Up. Run to the end of the room and back." He would wait, impassive, indifferent, and if Ixxr rose and did as he commanded, and the moment the brown cat turned to run, Massacre would be upon him.

Lips drawn back into a vicious snarl, a fearsome growl rumbling from the depths of his chest to explode from his throat, he would spring at Ixxr the moment the brown cat had his back to him. Jaws agape, white fangs flashing, Massacre would aim to seize Ixxr firmly by the scruff with an iron grip. If this succeeded, he would dig in his heels and haul backward with all his strength in an effort to unbalance him and drag him to the ground. If he missed, he would follow Ixxr's every move, flowing with him like a synchronized dancer, jaws opening and snapping shut like bear traps until he managed to get a hold of Ixxr's scruff or shoulder and from there he would try to pull him to the ground.

Massacre was not one who wasted his breath on words or interrogations. No, he knew that actions spoke far more strongly than words did. Time to see what this cat could do in a real situation.

This cat wanted to prove himself?

Here's your chance. Show me what you've got.

His first attempt missed. Ixxr swerved away from him just at the right moment to avoid his attack, and then immediately swung away from him again. Impressive. He was quick, this one. With some training, he'd perhaps make an excellent fighter in the future. But he'd need to pull off more than that to best Massacre. Besides, the black cat was now aiming to provoke Ixxr into taking some offensive. He'd seen this cat was one who avoided conflict - however, no tom at Skull shirked from conflict. This cat was going to have to learn to take on some aggression.

For several moments, Massacre simply followed Ixxr's movements as he darted this way and that. Not one step Ixxr took Massacre missed, and steadily, as he followed the brown tom, like he was learning the intricate steps of a complex dance, he observed the way Ixxr moved. Every pawstep, Massacre memorized, for this would allow him to more easily anticipate and guard against Ixxr's maneuvers in the future.

They had almost reached the wall. Time to get pushy.

Up till now, as Ixxr leaped this way and that, Massacre had simply followed him. However, as Ixxr leaped to one side once more, Massacre suddenly changed tack. He timed his moment with meticulous care, so that the very moment Ixxr's paw's left the ground he would surge forward. This cat might be quick on his paws, but in springing left and right, there was also always a single moment where he had completely disengaged his control over his own footing when he left the ground, or at least almost all of his control, for no cat could leap or even walk with all four paws on the ground. And it was at this moment that he would be at Massacre's mercy. Just as Ixxr would be extending his forepaws to land, he would be helpless, unable to change course, to even backlash when Massacre attacked him, for he had no footing. Massacre would twist and aim to smash his shoulder full into Ixxr's side before he could regain his balance and his footing on the ground, using his momentum to hopefully carry the brown cat clean off his paws.

If his attack succeeded, then he would have Ixxr exactly in the position he wanted him - he would have to fight back. Massacre would not immediately attempt to immobilize him for his intention was not to win, but to test Ixxr. Instead, he would lunge downwards and attempt to clamp his jaws around Ixxr's shoulder and hold him down. Force him to fight to free himself.

If he somehow missed by some astounding luck on the part of Ixxr, then he would simply use his momentum to continue running alongside Ixxr until he was presented another opportunity to attack.

((Sure, that makes perfect sense ^^ I get whatcha mean. ;) ))

A perfect hit. Massacre's shoulder check sent Ixxr sprawling, and he had no difficulty getting his teeth around Ixxr's shoulder. Now things got interesting. One of Ixxr's paws lashed out, catching him on the underbelly and leaving a thin scratch. To prevent him from being able to get at his stomach again, Massacre shifted one hind leg into position to parry should Ixxr make another slash at his belly. However, instead, the brown cat began to concentrate his attacks into thrashing wildly, lashing out his hind legs and catching Massacre on both his hind legs and forelegs.

Ixxr was quite vigorous, he'd give him that. However, Massacre could see right off this cat had never been trained professionally in fighting as he had. His kicks certainly were directed with bruising strength, but none of them were truly sufficient to force him to move, as he was standing firm, and had a good hold on his opponent. If Ixxr wanted to get him to move, he would have to respond with an attack that would cause Massacre more trouble than his grip on Ixxr's shoulder was worth.

Seeming to notice this himself, Ixxr transferred his attack once more, this time clamping his jaws around Massacre's forepaw. Bad choice, if this had been a real situation. Lucky for him, it wasn't, and Massacre wasn't going to bite down with killing force. Instead, fast as a snake, he relinquished his hold on the brown cat's shoulder and lunged downwards with lightning speed in attempt to grab Ixxr by the neck, hopefully with his jaws around Ixxr's spine. In that moment, Ixxr was trapped - trapped by his own teeth, which were embedded in Massacre's leg, and trapped for it would take time to let go and withdraw, and Massacre allowed him no time. It would truly be a miracle if Ixxr managed to get away.

However, if Ixxr did somehow manage to move before Massacre's teeth came down on his neck (he was aiming to bite firmly, but not with enough force to really make him bleed) then Massacre would go for anything he could grab - an ear, any part of his head or neck or muzzle, and if he got a grip he would immediately try to force Ixxr's head down to the ground, and place one forepaw over his head and another over his shoulders to pin him firmly.

If his attacks succeeded, then that would end their first session, and he would release Ixxr and discuss tactics with him. If his attacks failed...

Game on.

((Lol but the fact Massacre is going to train Ixxr hopefully will help him. :D))

As Massacre's teeth closed around his neck, Ixxr let out a yowl that was abruptly cut off as Massacre's paw slammed down on his head and drove his muzzle into the earth. A moment later, Ixxr relaxed, going limp beneath his paws in defeat. Victory again in his grasp. However, even a cat that loved winning as much as Massacre knew there was no real triumph in beating a cat that had little training and was hardly a match for him.

Keeping the brown cat firmly pinned beneath his forepaws, Massacre leaned down to purr silkily in Ixxr's ear, "I see, mate. You have an interesting approach to fighting, but, unfortunately, an incorrect one." A pause. "Can you tell me what you did wrong, Ixxr?" His voice was honey smooth, and he lessened the pressure on Ixxr's head so that he was able to speak unhindered.

As it was his way, another test. Subtle, unexpected and sly, as all his tests were. Although this time, not a test of physique but of mental capacity. He had already seen how Ixxr could move - he was clearly a swift cat and knew how to move quickly.

Now to see if he had a quick mind to match that.

"Uh, I should've gone for a place that would hurt more?"

"Close, but not quite. What if I happened to be unresponsive to pain? No, you shouldn't have gone for an attack to try and make it 'hurt'. You should have made an attack for something vital." He paused, to let the words sink in. Better listen closely boy, he was teaching an important lesson. Just to ensure the brown tom was listening, he'd keep both forepaws still firmly planted over him until he was finished speaking. Massacre tolerated no deviation.

"Use your head. When you fight, don't just flail around and hope for a hit. Think." Massacre's tail whisked from side to side in broad sweeps behind him. "In the position you were, you had plenty of opportunities to get some damage in. Don't just try to dodge, try to counter. Be direct. Don't try and honey me into letting you go, force me to let you go." He paused once more, decisively, swiping his pink tongue around his jaws before he continued.

"In your instance before, you could have easily turned your head and tried to get your fangs in my face. That would have forced me to move my head to avoid you, and thereby I'd be forced to let you go. Remember, the last position you want to be in is one where your enemy has a hold on you. Even if it might cause you some more pain, do anything you can to avoid that. Understood?"

Using his forepaws, Massacre shook Ixxr slightly, just to make sure the forcefulness behind his message was absolutely clear.

((Merrrgh another long post here. If you feel lazy just read the red stuff which is Massacre's instruction. If you feel like getting the whole picture and burning your eyes, go ahead and read the whole thing xD))

Seeing that Ixxr was nodding to show he understood, Massacre released him, having gotten his most important point across, and allowed Ixxr to rise if he wished to, taking a step back. "Is there any way to predict where or what an opponent might do in certain situations? Especially ways in which I could counter for when I am near defeated, or if I am defeated?" Ixxr asked.

Ah, this was good, he was starting to get into the swing of things and use his brain now. Massacre seated himself, flicking his tail to indicate for Ixxr to do the same. He did not respond immediately, taking his time, lifting one forepaw and rasping his tongue slowly over it once, unsheathing his claws and inspecting them for several moments before his sallow amber eyes focused on Ixxr once more.

"Unfortunately, no." He blinked, and then elaborated, "Every cat is different. Every cat will have a different fighting style, and no cat is omniscient. Most of the time, you will never be able to predict what your opponent will do, unless it is perhaps a cat you have fought many times and know well enough to anticipate what kind of move they might think up. But those cases are rare."

Goodness he was talking lots today. Most of the time he wasn't a man of words. Usually hisses and swats were sufficient for his usual jobs in Skull, but it seemed teaching Ixxr would prove different. A nice change for once, meeting a cat actually worth communicating with. He flicked his tail dismissively and continued, "Regardless, being able to predict doesn't matter. It's being prepared that does." He swept his pale yellow gaze over Ixxr, appraising his build and abilities with a critical eye.

"If you are ever to become a true fighter, you should never even come close to a situation where you are defeated or nearly defeated. Those cases should only be the most rare - in a case when you are truly out-classed or deliberately surrendering. Staying out of a critical position may sound difficult, but if you use your brain, these situations are surprisingly rare. More besides, I'm going to teach you how to win, not how to lose."

He paused for a moment, looking thoughtful, then rose to his paws, gesturing for Ixxr to do the same. Abruptly, he was advancing the lesson another step. "Get up and stand three tail lengths away from me. Face me." He would wait until his orders were obeyed. If Ixxr was smart, he'd be quick about getting into position - Massacre wasn't patient when it came to dawdling. Then he would meow, "You don't yet have the strength, size nor skill of many cats. However, you have speed and energy. That, if you learn to apply it properly, can give you a great advantage. Even when facing stronger, faster or more skilled opponents, if you know how to use what capabilities you have to the utmost, you stand a greater chance for winning. Now, listen closely and do as I say. I want you to run straight towards me. Just before you crash into me, turn slightly so you run alongside me instead. Go. Do that now."

A strange request, it might seem? But none of Massacre's actions were arbitrary.