Posts by Massacre

[Oh, he'll remember it for sure.

But that doesn't mean he'll admit he does. xD

Ah, also *facepalm* I realized I forgot to state that they were actually in a hollow, not a burrow/den - like, a slight depression in the ground that's quite wide and basically a field of mushrooms ;) ]

The unearthly giggling continued to stream incessantly from Massacre's maw until he was practically sobbing from breath. He only managed to pause briefly as Year let out an excited yowl, then tossed a mushroom toward him. "Massie, you HAVE to try this! It's the most exhilarating feeling you will ever get!" As far as Massacre was concerned, it couldn't get any better than this, but he cheerily snatched up the mushroom, and barely even pausing to chew it, gulped it down as would a famished warrior a plump vole.

Almost immediately, the colors of the world around him slurred. His ears roared, and his blood boiled - he could feel every throb of his heart pulsing heat through his veins. Pupils dilated, jaws slack, the black tom swung his head from side to side in a wild effort to clear his vision. And that was when he saw her.

She was the epitome of beauty, the very embodiment of magnificence and elegance; ultimately, everything that Massacre desired in a female. His glazed, pale amber eyes fixed hungrily on her, Massacre silently marveled at the unparalleled perfection at which her long, flowing brown fur cascaded from her lean figure. Massacre, for all his life, had hardened himself against she-cats. He, unlike most toms, was entirely impervious to their charms, their delicate beauty and superficial affection. Never in his life had he felt an inkling of yearning for a female - and yet, now, he was entranced.

The world seemed unnaturally bright, as though he was waltzing through a wide open meadow at mid-day during a hot summer. Clumsily, eyes narrowing against the blinding light, Massacre stumbled to the female, his lurching, unsteady gait a pathetic imitation of his usual control and poise as he staggered to her side. Attempting to pull his famous chesire cat grin, Massacre meowed in his most luxuriously rich and seductive voice, "You know... you're pretty, gal." He would lean towards her, twisting slightly to try to gently clip her across the chin with a light flick of his tail.

Of course, in his current condition, Massacre was quite incapable of aiming at anything, and would most likely end up smacking the poor cat in the eye instead.

Oh, and the other thing... he had no idea the cat was actually Ixxr.

zenzan wrote:

OOC: DUDE! Massie! I laughed so flippin' hard when you wrote that last sentence. It was funny, because I was thinking, Hey, I don't remember seeing another brown female join us... then a clawing dread heightened when I realized... Ixxr's brown... then; the line. And I burst out laughing because it was so funny written down. XD ROFL

IC:
Ixxr payed little attention at Year's spazzing after eating the mushroom. It seemed like the same episode from before. So, he sat down and started to lick his paw. Year sreeched at Massacre to try a mushroom. Ixxr scoffed at the idea, thinking that it would be weird to do so. Then, he looked up to see Massacre stumble up to him, his prideful form diminished. He then smiled at Ixxr, and Ixxr narrowed his eyes. What was Massacre playing at?

You know... you're pretty, gal."

Ixxr was so stunned by the words that he got a tail in the middle of his face, and he flinched, unprepared. Ixxr frowned and took a step back from Massacre's smiling face.
"Uhhh..." he said, speechless. Was Massacre making fun of him, or did he genuinely think that Ixxr was a she-cat??
"Massacre, are... are you alright?" he tentitively asked.

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[ xD ]

As the she-cat's brow furrowed into a frown, Massacre was briefly disconcerted. Had he done something wrong? Why was she flinching?! Back in Skull, he'd had his fun with she-cats. His tricks had worked on them... every time. His technique was flawless - and yet this she-cat was frowning at him! What had he done wrong?! Massacre's demented grimace of a smile wavered for a moment, then quickly snapped back into place as the girl spoke.

"Uhhh... Massacre, are... are you alright?"

Her eyes turned to his, and Massacre was mesmerized. Her eyes were rainbows. It was like one of those classic cheesy cartoon scenes when there was a dramatic close up of a starry-eyed lover against a backdrop of sparkles and hazy colors. And it all only augmented her beauty.

Then it hit him. How did she know his name?

His smile vanishing, Massacre narrowed his eyes slightly, studying the she-cat with deeper intensity, grasping futilely for any memory of the dazzling she-cat before him. After flipping through a dozen distorted memories of she-cats, finding that this girl was not on the list, Massacre concluded he must have forgotten her... how embarrassing. He silently hoped that it would never become widely known that he had failed to remember the name of this stunningly gorgeous she-cat. That would be instant farewell to his... reputation.

Then, still wearing a slightly baffled expression, Massacre tipped his head slightly and as charmingly as he could (although the action would resemble a drunk bird turning its head) saying, "Er... ha' we met before?" A polite smile to accompany the slurred words. Yes, yes, common courtesies first before he got down to the real flirting. "I do believe I forgot'cha name. I'm Massacre, by the way."

Always a gentleman.

zenzan wrote:

"Er... ha' we met before? I do believe I forgot'cha name. I'm Massacre, by the way."

Ixxr looked around, wondering if he was talking to a different cat. With his... condition, it was possible. But he saw no other cat around, beside Year. And Massacre couldn't be talking to Year, as he was splayed out, stomach up, on the ground, and rubbing his back on the mushrooms, with his tongue sticking out like a dumb dog. No, he couldn't be talking to Year, and so his eyes widened a little in shock as he realized that Massacre thought he actually was a she-cat.
Then, he realized something; he could totally embaress Massie in a way such that he would never be able to let it down. A grin stretched across his face, as he focussed all of his attention on Massacre again. He'd bite, and see where, or what, Massacre planned to do with this 'female'.
He purred and said, "Oh? You don't remember me? I'm... Ixxa," he said, tweeking his name to make it sound more like one a she-cat would have.

OOC: this'll be fun. XD

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Lilackit wrote:

Swangaze gazed at Ixxr, padding up and brushing against his side. She leaned over and whispered, "I don't know who you are, but you're handsome. By the way, why is that tom mooning over you?"

(3)

[ROFL XD I'm enjoying this so much~
Massacre's going to flip when he comes to his senses |D ]

The she-cat let out a low, rumbling purr. "Oh? You don't remember me? I'm... Ixxa," Ah, Ixxa! He had certainly heard that name before. It definitely had a very familiar ring to it. Allowing a drunken-sailorly smile to touch his maw, Massacre answered, "Ah, deepest 'pologies, Ixxa. Dunno how I could've fergotten." He tipped his head back, and on the high of a sudden bout of giddiness, he laughed shrilly before noticing another she-cat had approached. My, my, he was drawing them like flies to honey! Just a show of what an enchanting gentleman he was, yes.

"M'name's Massacre, b'the way." He added to Ixxa, blissfully oblivious to the fact he had introduced himself three times already.

Then, turning his attention to the newcomer, "And what might your name be, doll?" He inquired in a cloyingly sweet tone. His tongue was beginning to feel very thick, the world slurring into an indiscernible cacophony of mingled sound and colors. The ground was tilting strangely beneath him - goodness, what was happening? Starting to panic, Massacre glanced toward the indistinct shapes of the other cats around him, but none of them seemed overly alarmed. Good riddance what was wrong with them?! The ground was tipping! They were all going to slip off...

Gritting his teeth, Massacre sank his claws into the soft, peaty earth in a futile attempt to stay upright. The soil flipped up to meet his head, and suddenly, Massacre found himself sprawled in a bed of pungent toadstools.

A high-pitched, gurgling, giggling laughter spewed uncontrollably from Massacre's maw as he scrabbled clumsily at the earth, trying to sit up again. "Oopsie!" He laughed, still giggling. There was something in his mouth - oh, a mushroom! It was brightly colored - ooohhh very pretty. The ladies ought to like it. Rising unsteadily to his paws, Massacre stumbled over to the new she-cat, Swangaze, setting it down graciously at her paws, managing to stop the hysterical giggles bubbling from his throat long enough to say, "For you." Then he burst out laughing again and leaned against Ixxa, a loud purr - gosh was he purring?! rumbling in his chest.

[ zenzan : Yes, this is Ixxr's day of indulgence so enjoy it xP
It's a once in a life time experience. xD ]

"I'm Swangaze, and thanks for the mushroom."

"Notta problem, sweetheart." Massacre grinned wolfishly and winked. No longer able to stay upright on his paws, he sprawled languidly onto his side, facing the two she-cats, tail tip still twitching madly. He watched intently as Swangaze swallowed the mushroom, then began dancing from paw to paw, her expression becoming more wild. "They taste good, don't they?" He laughed, his tongue lolling unpleasantly from his jaws before he managed to regain control over it.

He allowed a brief lapse to follow his words, then, dilated pupils flicking from Swangaze to Ixxa, he meowed in his smoothest, richest, and deepest voice, "Soooooo... what's a girl like you doin' in a place like this at this hour?" Whether the words were directed to Ixxa or Swangaze, he wasn't sure, but he felt compelled to talk, and to talk a lot by a strange, inexplicable, irrepressible urge.

Now, Massacre wasn't usually a man of words. He was even less interested to talk with she-cats in the norm, but today was different. He was actually enjoying this.

[ zenzan : I couldn't help myself |D The situation was begging for me to write that~
@Lilackit: I'm having fun too! XD ]

There was a brief pause, and Ixxa's gaze dropped to her paws. Ah, a shy one now, was she? Massacre gave her what he hoped would come out as an encouraging smile, before she lifted her muzzle and answered,

"Oh, just, um, wandering around,"

"What, a pretty girl like you?" Massacre could feel another bout of hysterical laughter starting to build in his throat, but he managed to suppress it long enough to get his next words out. "No family? No mate or kids t'look afta?" He was already starting to snicker, the high-pitched, wheezy noise hissing from his throat as he struggled in vain not to break into another giggle-attack. There was just something so absurdly funny about it all...

His head flopped back to the earth as he succumbed to the hiccuping laughter racking his body, all four paws flailing in the air as he lay on his back, squirming like a kit under a tickle-attack. "And whadd'bout you, Swangaze? You got kids? Family?" Massacre inquired, breathless from his mushroom-induced giggles, still lying flat on his back, eying Swangaze alluringly with his head tipped to the side.

Except the effect was ruined when Year - whom he hadn't been paying attention to - abruptly sat on his face.

"Eh! Gitoffme yeh fat wurm, you --" Massacre lashed out his hind legs, aiming a few vicious kicks (albeit with his claws sheathed) at Year's side, screaming obscenities at him until he was cussing like a sailor. Eventually, his enraged screeching would deteriorate entirely into incoherent howls of fury until he managed to dislodge the black tom, hopefully flinging him a few feet away before he scrambled unsteadily upright and stalked a few paces away, coming to a halt a safe distance from Year.

"Touch me again and I'll flay your skin," He growled a final warning threat, his hackles bristling on end for emphasis, before he turned back to Ixxa, the facade of sickly sweetness instantly slipping back into place. The black tom would leisurely slide back into the mushrooms so that he was lying on his side, a drunkenly pleasant smile plastered on his maw, eyes apologetic.

"Sorry ya had t'see that, m'darlings. Now, where were we?"

Blissfully oblivious to the screeched threats and insults directed at him, Year clumsily regained his footing and blundered over to Swangaze. "I wan' th' purdier one," He announced groggily, letting out a purr as he settled himself next to Swangaze. Seeing the other tom's possessive gesture, Massacre rose to his paws as well, stalking lopsidedly over to Ixxa, his lurching gait a mockery of his usually powerful and graceful stride. Reaching Ixxa, he practically crashed into her as he tried to sit down beside her the way a good gentleman protecting his lady would.

"Oh yeh, the pretty one eh? Guess the smoke is hazing up your vision, buddy. Obviously, this is the real handsome gal." As he spoke, his eyes turned admiringly to Ixxa's face, appreciatively observing the strong, finely shaped contours of her face and the sweep of her beautiful, dense brown coat.

He was entirely unaware of Swangaze's cold, fierce glare until she spoke. "You shouldn't of asked that." Wha--? What had he asked again? Oooohhh right, the family. Touchy, wasn't she? Feisty girls... "I'm not going to hurt you, of course. It just wasn't. . . wise." It was evident, in the ice of her tone, that her words were supposed to inspire fear and apprehension in him. Instead, however, he took perverse amusement in her foreboding stare. In the fact that she was even suggesting she could harm him. So much so that at that, the black-furred tom threw back his head and laughed. And it was real laughter, not even the mushroom-induced giggles, a true, harsh, brutal and honest laugh.

Even in an undrugged state, Massacre would have found such a statement entertaining. He was a born and bred fighter, trained at the claws of his cruel father, molded into a cat that most who met grew to fear, or at very least respect in fear. He, Massacre, as his namesake suggested, had never had the need to walk the lands with tact or caution - he did as he pleased, and crushed those who did not agree with him. Never did he consider whether a statement was wise or not.

Although, of course, in his pathetic, doped state, he did not consider that he was absolutely not in any condition to fight.

Recovering from his bout of laughter, Massacre meowed in a sickeningly sweet voice, "There's no need to worry about hurting me, sweetheart." He grinned dangerously at her, displaying rows of pristine, glistening ivory teeth. Then he fell silent as the she-cat explained the story of her past. For a moment, a somber expression would linger on the black tom's expression as though he were almost contemplating her with sympathy, then he stretched leisurely, indifferently, leaning against Ixxa.

"How unfortunate, my dear. I do believe we share something in common... I have no family either." He allowed a tragic expression to fix on his face for a moment before it faded entirely, instead leaving his demeanor cold, harsh and merciless. He allowed a brief pause to follow his words, and then, in a soft, sibilant whisper, he added, "Because I killed them. All of them." And he threw his head back once more, unrestrained, insane laughter spewing from his open maw and ringing through the still night air.

To her, to any cat who had not known him prior to this, perhaps, he would merely be a simple-minded, silly tom who had eaten too many mushrooms. But that was not the case. His true personality, despite the cloak of ridicule the mushrooms had thrown over him, was slowly emerging from beneath its shroud.

She did not know who she was dealing with.

[ zenzan : It's okay, Massacre is quite thoroughly sedated by the mushrooms and catnip smoke essence so he is incapable of really hurting anyone XD At the moment, that is. o__o

Also, I loled at Year's thoughts on Ixxr's pelt and the dialogue between Year and Ixxr xD

Also, Frostheart121; this is Luvyna, an a-mod here. Please remember that if you are posting in an advanced badge event, you must ensure your posts are the proper length - you should have at least 3-5 sentences. ;) If you wish to post less literate posts, please change from this thread to the regular Mushroom Madness event thread in the RP Resources. Please remember to post enough to qualify as advanced from now on, or move to the regular Mushroom Badge thread. Thanks~ :) ]

To Massacre's surprise, a rippling growl interrupted his insane laughter. The black tom paused, his head swiveling ponderously in Year's direction to meet the other dark-furred cat's stare. Year let out a threatening hiss, "Hey! She-cats're sensitive, y'know! Give 'em sum respect, if ya know what's good fer ya," Year's heated words were met with an insolent yawn.

"My, my, you're getting rather touchy as well now, aren't'cha?" Then, baring his teeth, Massacre added more fiercely, "My ears sensitive, y'know. You'd better watch that flapping tongue of yours if you --" He broke off with a hiss of astonishment as Year launched himself at him, forepaws extended, clearly with the intent to attack him.

Okay, well this was unprecedented. And absolutely unacceptable.

Moving more on instinct than a conscious command from his brain, Massacre attempted a quick maneuver to his left to sidestep the attack - completely forgetting he had been leaning against Ixxr. Instead of a swift, neat, sweeping turn to the left to end up behind Year once he landed, Massacre's tripped, his paws hopelessly entangled with Ixxr's, falling toward him, to land on the brown tom with enough force to drive the breath clean from his lungs if he did not move in time.

And, if all went splendidly, Year would land on Massacre, who was on top of Ixxr, resulting a perfect dogpile.

Well, that was; a dog pile with one cat trying to beat the daylights out of another, one crushed beneath the other two and the cat about to get his whiskers pulled trying to decide if it was an appropriate occasion to giggle or try to fight back.

Yep. All in a day's work.

zenzan wrote:

OOC: yeah, I was a little bit full of sugar and sweets when I wrote that. X3

IC:
Ixxr watched Year as he spat at Massacre. But then Ixxr blinked. Wait, Year? Spitting at Massacre? Who knew? Then, Year lept at Massacre who toppled on top of Ixxr, knocking the breath out of him. He hit the ground hard, a single "Oomf!" coming from his maw as Massacre, and then Year's body weight squished on top of him. Unable to breathe from the pressure, he tried to push Massacre off of him, but he was unable to tell Massacre why, as he had not the breath to do so.

Year yowled triumphantly as Massacre fell under him. He turned to smile at Swangaze, only to see her talking to another tom. He growled and stepped off of Massacre, forgetting about him, as he stormed over to Swangaze and Dapplepaw. Yowling to Dapplepaw, Year screeched, "Whatdoyou think yer doing! She's mine! Mine, mine, MINE!" and lept at Dapplepaw.

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Massacre heard the huff of breath from Ixxr as the combined weight and force of both toms drove the breath from his lungs. However, he was unable to form any coherent reaction as Year stood triumphant above him, and Ixxr squashed flat beneath him. He was vaguely aware that Year had turned to glance at Swangaze, but something about what he had seen obviously angered him.

In a flash, the pressure from Year vanished as the black tom sprang away, "Whatdoyou think yer doing! She's mine! Mine, mine, MINE!" He screeched. Feeling Ixxr squirm under him, Massacre managed to drag himself upright before he slumped onto his side again, incessant giggles streaming uncontrollably from his maw.

Normally, he would have paused to feel some abhorrence for how Swangaze was simply watching on, wearing a smug look as the toms battled over her. In reality, he didn't like she-cats anyhow - that was why he'd joined Skull in his past. However, instead, he only laughed at the absurdity of the whole situation, his drunken, wheezing giggles still trickling sluggishly from his throat. He could taste more fresh mushroom in his mouth - he must have fallen right into some.

As the colors of the world began to slur, the figures of the landscape and the cats around him beginning to lose their shape and distinction, Massacre dragged himself to Ixxr's side, two pupils, mismatched in size, fixed hungrily on his face, clearly still thinking he was a she-cat.

"Looks like we got some time alone now, sweetheart..." He chuckled, allowing his head to slip to her shoulder, leaning against her side. Everything around him was spinning... beginning to feel dizzy, Massacre closed his eyes, then opened one a slit to gaze at Ixxa.

"You're pretty, gal." He reminded her.

zenzan wrote:

OOC: lol, if Massacre did this without mushrooms, I think that he'd need to be restrained by collar and paws to stop him from going near anyone. To stop him from hurting himself, and others around him. However, since this is mushroom-induced, it is very funny. XD

IC:

Ixxr was relieved when Year got off and gasped for new breath as soon as Massacre rolled off. Ixxr lay there, slowly regaining his breath as Massacre laughed again. But soon, Massacre once again crawled back to Ixxr, and a slow dread started to creep into Ixxr. Was it really the smartest choice to play along?

"Looks like we got some time alone now, sweetheart..."

Yeah, he'd say no. Not smart, that is. Then, Massacre snuggled up against Ixxr. Ixxr was discusted at Massacre. Horrified, even. In all of his days, he had never seen Massacre snuggle up to anyone!

"You're pretty, gal."

How many times had Massacre said that now? Four? Five? Ixxr sighed, unsure of what to do. Should he move away? Well, that might make Massacre question why. Stay right where he was and pur? No, he thought that that would definitely be going to far. Ixxr lay there, blinking, and weighing his options.

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[ xD
I think the mushroom's effects will take an interesting turn now >3 Also, I'm starting to get an actual long-term plot in mind for Massacre. We should totally RP Year, Ixxr and Massie together more after this. ^^ ]

In Massacre's mind, suddenly, they were no longer in the dank, gloomy forest.

Instead, he found they were in a verdant green meadow, thick, white clouds rolling in the blue sky, encompassed from all sides by beautiful field flowers and their sweet, light fragrance. The warmth of the sun soaked through Massacre's fur and a pleasantly cool breeze stirred his fur, carrying the rich, warm scent of summer. The sun shone from the heavens at its height, and, Massacre, bathed in its luxurious warmth, allowed himself to fully enjoy it.

It had been moons... seasons... perhaps even years since he'd allowed himself to experience pleasure. Triumph, satisfaction, smugness - he'd felt it all, but pure bliss was something different. This was bliss - the heat from the sun seeping through his fur, the caress of the gentle breeze, the thick, soft grass cradling him in comfort and security as a mother would her kit.

And Ixxa. Ixxa was with him.

As Massacre reveled in the glorious sense of felicity, he suddenly felt his mind grow tranquil and clear. And then the memories came. Unbidden, thousands of recollections; thoughts, experiences, feelings began to flash through his mind. Blood roaring in his ears in the exhilaration of a hunt or a kill, the familiar rush of triumph and jubilation as he secured his claws in the flesh of his prey, and then the gush of warm blood filling his jaws as he severed it's spine or tore out its throat. The enraged screeches, hisses and yowls of cats as he fought, the whimpers of terror from the throats of others as they cowered, and the whimpers from him as well, as he likewise had once cowered before his abusive father. Battles, lost and won. And most of all, the sense of isolation and difference that had never left him.

Loneliness. Was that what it was?

And then there was his regret. He suddenly realized that it was with remorse he looked upon his past. Why, why had he wasted so much of his life? Why had he spent so much time allowing himself to be consumed with hatred, bitterness and anger, when he could have indulged himself in pleasure like this instead?

He knew why. It was because he enjoyed those things. Killing. Fighting. It brought him perverse pleasure to feel his claws tearing through fur, to see the terror, helplessness and hatred combined in his victims. It brought him a sense of power.

Yet he could not understand his feelings now. But perhaps Ixxa would. They were alone, in this meadow, together. Why not tell her? He could always kill her afterward to keep her quiet, anyhow. He only wanted someone to tell now.

"Ixxa." He whispered softly. For her ears alone. "Ixxa, I want to tell you a secret."

zenzan wrote:

OOC: YES. Year will follow Massie to his death, I told you that, but I think Ixxr would follow Massie since Massie gave him rebirth and a new attitude, in a way. Looks like Massie has a gang. :3

IC:
Ixxr relaxed, as he saw Massacre do the same. He looked around as Massacre closed his eyes. Ixxr yawned. No, he could not allow himself to fall asleep. He turned to Massacre, but Massacre seemed withdrawn from their surroundings, and Ixxr had no wish to wake him. He looked at a mushroom that was just out of his reach. What was it doing to Massacre that made him like this? The only thing that Ixxr saw, or rather smelt, was a vegetation that was starting to rot, or something that smelt... earthy. Ixxr dared not try it, for fear of becoming... intoxicated.

"Ixxa. Ixxa, I want to tell you a secret."

The voice came so suddenly he was startled, until he realized it was Massacre. But who was Ixxa? Oh, right. That was the name he had made up. A secret, eh? That caught Ixxr's attention. Was it a secret weakness? Maybe not, in this mushroom madness he was in. It was probably just to tell him, again, that Massacre thought Ixxr pretty, or something like that.
"And what might that be?" he asked. But then, he realized the tone that Massacre had told him. What if it was actually something deep, or dark about Massacre? Oh, what a mess he has gotten himself into. Deep in mud.
(And according to Year, that showed in his pelt.)

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[YAY 8D Let's go wreak terror in the Loner Lands after this, K? Or we could troll the Clans or something xD...]

"And what might that be?"

Ixxa's tone indicated she did not expect to hear anything astounding, but there was a hint of interest in her voice as well. An uncharacteristically sheepish grin splitting across Massacre's muzzle, he answered in a strangely childish fashion, "I like it here." He glanced around the flowery meadow, tail whisking through the thick, soft grass. For a few long moments he was silent, having momentarily forgotten that he had wanted to tell Ixxa anything, until he realized the expectant silence that had been stretching between them.

"Ooooh right, the secret. Well, first of all, Ixxa, I know we just met, but I gotta tell you... m'name isn't Massacre. I mean - that's not my real name." His words were serious, but they were spoken in such a squeaky, kit-like manner that it would be a wonder if she took them with any degree of earnestness.

He would then lean towards her until his muzzle was practically brushing her ear, so that she would be able to feel his breath stirring her fur as he whispered, "It's Malvolio." A pause, to allow his words to sink in, before he continued, less softly, but still in a whisper, so that only Ixxa would hear, even though they were technically alone in the meadow. He didn't even want the bugs to hear. These words were for Ixxa. Just for her. Only her.

"Tha'ws m'birthname. My father... he taught me everything I know. By beating me up. Daily. He hurt me, and he hurt my brothers too. He hurt my mother too... but he didn't hurt my sisters. I think it was because he thought they were too weak to train, but I always thought he was just protecting them. Kitten logic, y'know..." He paused, then laughed harshly, before he continued very softly, his voice a sibilant whisper in Ixxa's ear. "But everything he did to us backfired on him. My brothers and I... we were unmatched in fighting for our age at that stage, because of how much we had to fight him. One day, when he flew upon us in a rage, we ganged up on him and we killed him."

Massacre paused thoughtfully, then laughed again. "We killed him," he repeated jubilantly, his voice rising, as though reveling in his victory afresh. Uncontrollable laughter, burbling, demonic laughter was streaming from his maw, his voice continuing to rise until he almost screeched, "We killed him! The devil himself!" Still gurgling, his body racked with spasms of half-choked laughter, Massacre allowed his head to flop against Ixxa's shoulder - the effort of holding it erect was becoming too much. Sudden weakness gripped his limbs as a wave of lethargy swept through him.

"Now you know 'bout me...now you know." He crooned, eyes sliding shut. He lifted one paw to cover his face, to blot out the brightness of the midday sun, curled snugly against Ixxa.

With his last scrap of consciousness, he mumbled indistinctly, "Les'sleepnow." And the meadow melted into nothingness.

Massacre awoke the following morning to a hot shaft of sunlight filtering through the dark trees, falling squarely over his face.

The black tom squinted against the bright light, a half-stifled groan slipping from his throat as he turned his head to the side, twisting to escape it, only for his paws to unexpectedly encounter fur.

Okay. What the heck.

Massacre's eyes flew open wide as he abruptly realized he'd been snuggled up... against Ixxr?! "What the--" With a snarl, Massacre leaped to his paws, spitting furiously. "Good riddance, Ixxr! What do you think you're doing so close to me?!" He yowled loudly enough to scare all the prey away within a ten yard radius. He should know by now that Massacre had a strict 'don't-touch' policy! How dare he encroach on his personal space in such an atrocious manner while he was sleeping! What did he think he was doing?! Why, the nerve...

Tail lashing in outrage, Massacre paced back and forth beside Ixxr as he frantically tried to recall just what had happened the night before. How in the world had they gotten here anyway? What the hell? Where were they? What in the world...

Without warning, the tide of memories flooded back into Massacre's mind, accompanied by a pounding headache. He paused, wincing at the onslaught of distorted sounds, colors and smells from his memories and the hot throbs that were overwhelming his thoughts. For a moment, he was still and silent, pondering what had occurred. Within moments, his fur was burning with shame as he recalled what had happened last night. What he had done last night. Good riddance those mushrooms...

Massacre swung around, snapping at Ixxr, trying to cover his intense humiliation, mortification and dismay with cold fury. "You... you are Ixxa?!" He exclaimed incredulously. As the words left his maw, he only felt more foolish.

He was never going to be able to live this down.

Ixxr cringed slightly as Massacre spoke, then rose to his paws. Under Massacre's fierce, sallow stare, he meowed,

"Look I can explain. At first I wanted to get an edge on you, but then I realized that I just wanted to be there for you, in your... time of need, if I can be so bold to say that. I mean, in your mushroom-induced state, that is. I just... I'm sorry,"

Massacre felt his fur bristling on his shoulders, tail whiplashing from side to side in rage, but it was a helpless sort of fury as well. If it wasn't bad enough that he had blurted out his deepest secrets, he was now overcome by a loathsome sense of vulnerability, which he hated. "My... time... of need?" Every word rasped from his throat separately, the seething fury evident in his tone. His claws slid out and rooted deep gouges in the soft earth, his muscles trembling from the effort of withholding the boiling anger roiling within him.

He might have flat out exploded then had not Swangaze sauntered in, saying to Ixxr, "Y'know, I'm pretty glad that's over; I still think you're handsome."

Well, there was some much needed comic relief.

Massacre snapped his jaws irritably in the direction of the female, annoyed that she had disturbed them at such a charged moment, claws flexing in the earth as he contemplated if she would make a suitable scratching post to vent on. However, he could not help but to twitch his whiskers in a slight smirk as he glanced toward Ixxr to see his response. He too, had not failed to notice Swangaze's deviously flirtatious nature, and that combined with his natural contempt and dislike for she-cats, caused him to despise her even more. She was beautiful, perhaps, but he found no charm in she-cats. Normally.

More besides, she was flirting with Ixxr. Yes, he was annoyed, angry and mortified, but not out of his mind... well, not any more out of his mind than usual. He was caught between a sort of amused curiosity to see how the boy would handle such a situation as well as exasperation at the female for trying this on him. Well, folks, he had his coordination back now, so if things got hairy...

Then Ixxr turned and growled, "I'm sorry, don't you think you've done enough damage? I don't think whatever you're thinking of will ever work between the two of us," 'Atta boy! Massacre thought, feeling a surge of genuine pride for Ixxr, despite all the pent annoyance and anger he felt at that moment. Seating himself, assuming a demeanor of bored indifference, Massacre gaped his jaws in an insolent yawn. "You two about done? This is all very heartwarming... but you won't want to get in our way right now, my lady," He paused and grinned dangerously at Swangaze. "We're about to engage in a very serious settling of scores. You know... a good, deep discussion between toms."

Wouldn't want to get caught up in all the manly stuff now, would we?

[...'maybe another mushroom'... < loled at this XDDD ]

Massacre silently watched, an undisguised smirk plastered on his paw as the girl blinked at Ixxr's words and then began to pad away, head hanging. The black tom lifted a nonexistent brow as Year bounded happily after her, then, suddenly realizing she was leaving, skidded to an abrupt halt, saying "Well. I mean, y'know, who needs her anyways? Pfft. Pfft, I don't. Pfft," However, Massacre was not unaware of the way he continued to stare hungrily after Swangaze, his expression flitting from one emotion to another so quickly Massacre wondered how his facial muscles could sustain such aerobatics.

"Wha'sis tom-talk I hear of?"

Year asked finally, turning back to Massacre and Ixxr, his face utterly devoid of emotion. Massacre blinked in surprise at the complete and utter change, then meowed crisply, "Oh, Ixxr and I were just discussing how to cure your severe case of facial twitches. You seem to have made a full recovery now though, so I guess there's no need to worry about that."

Remnants of mushroom and catnip lingering in his bloodstream?

Maybe a little.

Abruptly, the black tom allowed the momentary good-natured humor to slip from his demeanor, returning to his usual look of cold ferocity. "Okay. First; No one speaks of this again. Ever." What happens in the mushroom forest stays in the mushroom forest. He paused, fierce, pale amber eyes darting between his two associates to gauge their expressions before continuing smoothly, "I do believe both of you - especially you, Ixxr - are quite familiar with these lovelies." He lifted one forepaw, licked it reflectively, then set it back down to the earth and allowed a set of refined, sharp claws to slide out.

"I wouldn't want to have to introduce - or reintroduce, in Ixxr's case - them to either of you, so I assume we can all come to a nice, unanimous agreement?" A menacing smile plastered across his maw, Massacre glanced from Year to Ixxr. Of course, he privately (very privately) doubted he would really ever raise a claw against these two cats (whom he had actually, ridiculously become fond of) but hey, it was good to exaggerate.

Sometimes.

"Wait, what thing? What's going on? What're you talking about, Massie? What shouldn't we speak of?"

Massacre scowled, sallow yellow eyes boring into the other tom, wondering if this was some sort of ploy to augment the degree of humiliation he already felt until he realized Year genuinely was clueless about what he was talking about. Huffing a sigh, Massacre growled, "Let's just put it this way, Year. Never. Mention. Mushrooms. Or anything remotely related to mushrooms." He stared fiercely at Year, eyes lingering on his to ensure the message was clearly gotten across.

He didn't want to even have to think about this again.

Turning to Ixxr, Massacre realized the brown tom was already stalking away, and a moment later, Year was bounding after him as well. As he paused to wait, asking if Massacre was coming, the lithe black tom moved toward them, quickening his pace to catch up with the two toms before locating his scent trail from earlier and beginning to backtrack to exit the forest.

"Let's get out of here," he agreed.

[Hey guys, Luvyna here. :) Just a quick staff reminder that you must post at a level that qualifies for advanced in this thread in order to earn the badge, otherwise it is considered cheating, and you should to post in the regular thread. Each post should be at least one good paragraph that consists of 5-8 sentences in length.

Haycr123: You are not meeting these standards with your post length. You will need to either switch to the regular thread, or restart from 12 posts to earn the badge.

Also, guys, this is only the opening ceremonies thread XD No competitions are here, they're in the links in the first post. ;)]

A barrage of exotic sounds, smells and sights assailed the ebony tom's senses as he emerged from the cool shadows that cloaked the interior of the forest beneath the trees. Immediately, his eyes narrowed, ears flattening to his skull as his malevolent sallow stare raked the scene unfolding before him. All about him, cats flitted to and fro, the mass of bodies in the congregation crowding together until, despite the sheer size of the arena, no cat had a comfortable amount of space. Cats of all different Clans and loners mingled, and the atmosphere of excitement and eager anticipation hung in the air.

Massacre was unaffected by it all.

A derisive sneer marred the refined lines of his muzzle, his tail whisking back and forth as he regarded the festivities with regal disdain. He strode past hoards of enthused spectators, performers singing and dancing about, embellished with elaborate markings of berry juice and apprehensive athletes taking their bearings, his demeanor remaining cold and unruffled throughout. He did not deign to take part in an of the entertainment, his stony, contemptous disposition utterly untouched by the joy and excitement that buzzed around him.

Massacre, of course, had not come to play the games by their rules. A cruel smirk tugged at his maw, revealing a pair of formidable fangs bared and pressed against his lower lip. The inky blackness of his pelt accentuated the stark ivory white of the canines, which contrasted dramatically with his fur. He was not the least unaware that it was a time of peace, a time in which all cats gathered to pit themselves against each other in friendly competition for a prize of honor and recognition.

A perfect time for an opportunist like himself to not only wreak chaos and havoc as he saw fit, with no cats ready to oppose him. The smirk broadened into a fearsome approximation of a smile that appeared more to be a grimace. He was not some play-thing to jump through hoops for entertainment. He was a true fighter, through and through, his soul, mind, bone, flesh and sinew adapted for that one thing. He was not one of those bumbling fools who strove to win battles through sheer force or some supernatural ability, with not an inkling of intelligence to realize their folly. He was deadly, a murderer, carnivorous, merciless, and above all, cunning. And he would use these abilities at his disposal now.

He would win these games.

s w i n g s [writing a book] wrote:

Eyes wide open and ears perked, gradually the long-haired jet black Hawkclan tom padded into the arena, a wide spread smile on his maw. Taintedcompassion gently sucked in a deep breath, shutting his eyes for the cold breeze blew sweetly past him. The Olympics. The Cat Olympics. The tom would win all the games he could win, and he knew it. He could feel it. Taking a step forward he blinked his eyes to adjust from the setting sun. As he stood under one of the trees the sun-light piebald his pelt before he took another step forward. Where should he start now?

[1]

The incomprehensible festivities wore on, and hoards of cats paraded past Massacre. Absorbed in the flurry of excitement and tension, none of them took any notice of the lone black tom that regarded his surroundings with cold malevolence. Massacre lifted a forepaw and rasped his tongue contemplatively over it, eyes half-closed, before setting it down again. They would notice soon enough. He felt no rush or urgency; he possessed the key trait to the finest of murderers: patience. When at last it occurred to them where the true danger lay, it would be too late, too late for them all.

A wicked grin split Massacre's muzzle, then quickly vanished as another black tom wandered near. A quick sniff told Massacre that the tom belonged to HawkClan, a group he had traveled past in his loner's traversing. He observed the other warrior's stance, gleaning the flicker of uncertainty of what was supposed to happen now.

Lazily, Massacre whisked his tail across the dusty earth to draw the tom's attention. He would continue to sweep his tail back and forth until he did, then recline comfortably on his haunches and tip his head, inviting the other warrior to join him at his side. Regardless of whether he came or not, Massacre would gape his jaws in an insolent yawn, then inquire, "What, you're not going to partake in all the festivities? The games will not begin immediately you know. They insist upon throwing feasts and a proper welcoming party first." Massacre rolled his eyes as he spoke, not bothering to disguise his disdain for such petty rituals.

A flicker of irritation twinged in Massacre's chest as the dark-furred HawkClanner neither acknowledged or noticed him. Pallid, flinty amber eyes narrowed slightly as they beheld the unresponsive warrior. His apathy toward Massacre infuriated him, but he did not allow his emotions to seep into his impassive facade. Deciding that he had certainly waited long enough for a response, he rose smoothly to his paws, directing a disdainful sneer at the warrior, and strode past him, pointedly flicking his feathery black tail into his face as he did.

He cast one last cold glance over his shoulder, silently branding the tom's scent and appearance into his memory, so that he could recognize him in the near future, when the competitions began. He flexed his claws, feeling them carve gouges in the soft earth, satisfied by the lethal sharpness of each razor point. He silently marked the warrior in his mind for a future target in the games.

A few moments later, Massacre's extended strides carried him out of sight of the other tom, and he passed his tongue over his jaws. He allowed the simmering heat of his anger to ebb from his limbs and stretched his forelegs in front of him, relaxing the newly accumulated tension in his muscles. It would not do for him to grow rigid and stiff before the games had even begun. He strolled onward, threading his way through the throng.

Although, to an onlooker, he would appear entirely disinterested by his surroundings, his sharp tawny gaze darted surreptitiously left and right, taking in new faces, surveying each cat's emotions and storing the information away carefully in his mind.

s w i n g s [writing a book] wrote:

[3]

It was a small flicker of tawny eyes that sent the Hawkclan Greeter padding after a tom. The elegant she-cat fell into steps behind him, watching Massacre with intent dark azure orbs. "Ehem," she coughed as she slowed to a stop, anticipating he would stop as well. He reminded Heatherscillation of someone, but the feline just couldn't remember who. Unexpectedly, an image flashed through her mind as she blinked her eyes. A bulky white warrior from her clan quickly appeared and disappeared. Cloudfoot. What had happened to their relationship? Why was it so difficult to love when you were not loved from the start? It was her fault they fell into pieces, it was her fault that she let herself run wild and crazy. She should of never done it, and she knew she couldn’t keep it up. So maybe for a moon or two she had been a bit of a sl—t, and unfortunately, it had cost her her mate. Now how could the white warrior remind her of this tom? “ Massacre ,” she abruptly breathed as if the name had just come to her, and it had. Her aqua eyes flickered up to him as she watched with a parted maw.

[...Ohmygosh was your character female? XDDD Whoops! *facepalm* Sorry about that ^^;

[size=6pt]...what a fail on my part[/size]]

"Ehem,"

The soft echo of light footfalls and the gentle voice that sounded behind him indicated the approach of a she-cat from the rear. Her tone was clearly meant to make him turn toward her, but the jet black tom considered continuing walking. Yet another female vying for his attention. He had had plenty of those in his days as a Skull. A bemused smirk tugged at the corner of his maw as he tossed her a fleeting glance over his shoulder, pale, flinty eyes giving her an unaffected once-over before turning back to focus ahead of him.

Behind him, he heard the footsteps cease, informing Massacre that the she-cat had stopped following him. Good. One less unlucky girl for him to deal with. Quickening his step, he strode onward, then abruptly halted as she spoke again.

“ Massacre ,”

Instantly, the black tom's ears fell flat to his skull, his tail beginning to lash as he whirled around and rounded on the she-cat, drawing himself up to his full height, every hair on his pelt bristling. His eyes flashed unspeakable rage mingled with flaring disbelief. His eyes flicked over her, desperately searching for any sign that he recognized her, that he had met her before, that he had deigned to divulge his name to her. When his frantic search yielded no results, a passionate snarl of fury twisted his muzzle, lips drawing back to showcase an array of lethal ivory daggers.

How could she know him? He had killed them, all of them. His friends, his family, he had eradicated every specter of his past except for those in Skull and there was no way this girl could know him. He was every bit as meticulous as he should have been; he would not have allowed himself such an atrocious lapse as to allow one of his victims to escape, to live and remember his name. Two, smooth, lithe steps brought him face to face with her, the tension in his stride betraying the coiled power ready in his muscles to be unleashed at any moment. He glanced furtively around him at the surrounding cats, then let his expression relax into a deceptively calm facade, though his tawny eyes still held a dangerous glint of furious energy.

"Indeed, my dear. Quite impressive. Where, may I ask, did you chance upon that information?" His voice was low and rich, intended for her ears alone. His casual tone almost bordered friendly, but there was no mistaking the ominous promise in them. He would glide closer to her, quickening his pace to match her's if she attempted to move away, and then attempt to tuck his head around her's in an embrace as intimate as a lover's, so that his shoulder was practically against her muzzle. He would then nuzzle his way up her neck to the base of her skull, where her spine began. His jaws would part ever so slightly, so that she could feel the weight of his teeth against her neck, and the stir of his warm breath against her ears.

"Who are you?" he purred. It did not matter that so many surrounded them; her death was moment's away if she did not choose her answer with care.

She was playing with fire.

s w i n g s [writing a book] wrote:

[ x3 its fine xD ]

Now she was playing with fire, but one thing that Massacre needed to know was that she had played with fire many time before him, and she had put that damn flame out. A pleased pearl white smile spread cleanly across her maw as he spoke. Dear? Indeed, my dear? Now who speaks that 'old-fashioned' and 'charmer's voice' anymore? "I'm a... semi-high position in my clan, you see, and my position involves talking with many cats. Those cats share stories with me, and I've met a Skull clan cat who speaks your name, Massacre. The cat who was traitorous and betrayed his family and friends. The hell-bound jet black tom with amber eyes who traded the Skull for a loner's life. Now that seems like you, yes?" The lilac and white she-cat felt the tension growing stronger. She knew that he could be the one who could cause her death, but she also knew that Hawkclan would hunt him down for killing one of their precious Greeters. Giving him a wider smile she blinked her aqua azure eyes. Though she felt her heart-pound harder, she remained as still as a statue as she held his gaze. "And I... I am someone who can only wish to know," she whispered as she gradually curled her tail around her paws.

Heatherscillation had dealt and played with toms such as the masculine tom sitting before her. She had much practice with dangerous bad-boys with a past, as she had a past of her own. A past that she only would foolishly say to someone, and why is that? Her past was dark, involving things that should have never been involved. She knew that his past was a story, one she also suspected that he wouldn’t share. Well maybe she could make him sing his past, and just maybe she could make him be the one to play with the enchanting fire. “Massacre-” she said the slightest bit louder. “Your looks betray your emotions, why not try a poker-face?”

Now was she playing with fire, or was this fire going out?

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[Just as a note, no cat in SkullClan actually knows about Massacre's past - he was a loner before he joined Skull. However, I can just assume that by 'friends and family' she meant SkullClan, since he left them after their fall.]

He grew still, even his breathing ceasing for a moment as he listened to her response. To his surprise, she did not cringe with fear or submission, or cower into frightened respect as many she-cats usually did, nor did she allow herself to become consumed in panic and respond with agitation or aggression. Rather, she seemed to almost welcome his fury, a genuine smile lifting her lips to reveal a row of ivory white teeth. Her response was startling eloquent, a reply he'd hardly thought a she-cat would ever manage to formulate. She must truly have experience with situations such as these; he was arrogant, but not unattentive.

And, reluctant as he was to admit it, she impressed him far more than any she-cat had for a long time. Her composure and bearing, he found, grudgingly admirable, and she did not seem to have an inkling of fear. With a prickle of faint, echoing discomfort, he realized she was dealing with him, rather than the opposite. And her response had pleased him. He had always sought to gain precisely such a reputation as what she had given him, and he found a perverse satisfaction at hearing it from the mouth of a cat he did not know. That was as it should be.

Slowly, he withdrew from her neck, the and the warm, encroaching presence at her neck would vanish as he drew back to study her face with narrowed eyes, his sallow gaze flicking over her, observing her far more carefully than before. At the same time, some of the taut tension strung between them would ease, a subtle signal that the worst of the danger had passed. "Good answer." His voice crooned from deep within his chest, as though he were a parent praising a child.

Then she spoke again, teasingly, “Massacre- Your looks betray your emotions, why not try a poker-face?” Which he ignored. He allowed the words to slip meaninglessly past him, not deigning to respond. He was Massacre, not her play-thing. Instead, his tawny stare focused on her's, pallid amber burning into vivid blue. Slowly, he would turn away, padding silently through the crowd away from her as though abandoning her without a word. Then, at the edge of the crowd, he would flick his tail and glance behind him, beckoning for her to follow him. An ominous gesture, but no longer in effort to hurt or kill her, but as a test of her true courage and composure. It was no simple matter to stand up to him with such calm poise when he was at the height of his anger.

If she did not come, he would simply continue walking, to see something else in the crowd. However, if she joined him, then he would retreat a few steps further from the group so that they could not be overheard, and then move startlingly close to her, leaning to her side so that their fur brushed, and his muzzle hovered inches from her ear, speaking so that she would feel the warmth of his breath as his velvety voice fell upon her ears. He would turn slightly to look into her eyes, his own pallid orbs gleaming in the half-light of the trees encompassing the arena.

"What is your name, my dear?"

мισσтʝɛ wrote:

{14}

Speckle tilted her head a bit when she heard some cats who stood near her, talking about something. She pricked her ears and overheard them, while she sneakily walked nearer them. Both of their emotions seemed normal and serious. Were are they talking about? Speckle thought. Whats so important?

s w i n g s [is writing book] wrote:

[ opps I kind of assumed that, yeah alright thank you x3 ]

“My name is Heatherscillation, but you may call me Heather,” she whispered gently as she watched him. Massacre was dangerous, that the lilac and white she-cat could tell, but something about him made her go on. The Hawkclan Greeter felt the eerie feeling of curiosity to know more about him and his past. She slowly took a step forward toward him, her nose almost touching his. “Who are you, Massacre? Who are you really?”

That question might seem meaningless to a tom like him, but it was worth a shot to ask. He was a cat with a past, and so was she. It would be interesting to understand someone who is, different. Heather blinked her vibrant aqua azure eyes as she intently stared at him.

[ sorry, not my best post

5]

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[Np~ :) ]

She came.

“My name is Heatherscillation, but you may call me Heather,”

Her voice was a gentle whisper, but her vivid cerulean gaze remained fixed on him with piercing intensity. "A pleasure," Massacre answered, his words a velvet soft hiss at her ear. Instead of shying away from his intrusion on her space, she drew closer, until their muzzles almost brushed, so that both would be able to feel each other's every breath. Her striking blue eyes bored into his, her gaze unwavering even as he stared back with all the cold ferocity in his being. She was not afraid of him.

“Who are you, Massacre? Who are you really?”

A ghost of a smile flickered across the ebony tom's muzzle, then vanished. His tail swished across the earth and then flicked lightly underneath her chin, brushing her chest. How very devious of her; she wished to pry into him. Females, of course, were known to have potentially capricious natures, but he had never met one so cunning as her. It was within his every right to ignore her question, or perhaps to give some fabled answer, but instead, he decided to give her a kernel of truth.

"I am exactly what my name suggests," He responded, a dark smile touching his maw. It was then that his eyes focused beyond her shoulder, taking notice of the other she-cat skulking toward them in the shadows at the edge of the arena. Her alert, furtive posture and pricked ears a clear indication of her intentions to eavesdrop. Subtly, Massacre angled his ears toward the she-cat, his eyes flashing as they conveyed a silent message. We have company. Then he lifted his chin, raising his voice address her.

"Come now, love, there's no need to be coy." His pallid amber stare focused on the newcomer, and he gave her a wide, deceptively friendly grin, his lips lifting to reveal the rows of glistening ivory fangs underneath. "You should be more forth right with what you want. If you want to join us, you only need to ask." He bared his teeth further, the fearsome approximation of a smile growing more and more unpleasant every moment.