Posts by king george iii

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"I have lots to think about," he retorted, quietly. Of course he did, everything from his crimes to Kate to his only remaining child, Leo. And his kingly duties of course, it was less stressful and more stressful than his human life at the same time. Though, in his human life he had a much bigger realm of rule, but he wasn't being ridiculed for murder and prostitution. At least the fuss was dying down, and with his shift coming closer and closer it would be easier to interact with other clans. But they still had Stormclan, for some odd reason. Maybe they never got the word, but George wouldn't complain.

"Speech."

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"Relax, it's an old warehouse on our land." George wasn't upset with her, but really, his was the least of his crimes and he wasn't worried. He had already scoped out the area and there where no scents around, and everything in the house that wasn't nailed down was taken. "If you want we can spray paint it nice, then take out the fallen roof and turn it into a small get together spot, or garden." He didn't want to make everyone in Eden hate him, he didn't want this to be the Cartel all over again. But, he was King, and he would spray paint it anyways. George tossed a can of white spray paint over to Mercedes, a shallow grin under his bandana.

"Speech."

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"Well, damn, I wanted to see my reflection." George pouted, obviously upset at the lack of his pelt in the glass. "Ugh, this must be another stupid vampire thing." He wrinkled his nose at the mirror, upset over it now. Really, he did not sign up for this.

"Speech."

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"Leo, could you host a cleanup around the caste? Kinda grimy around here." He didn't bother to think about his trashed throne room. George didn't let anybody in there anymore.

"Speech."

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George smiled coyly under his bandana, and shook his can. He began painting some sort of flower-esque mosaic on the side, before he began to think about her question. "Well, a couple moons now. I was an unofficial advisor of sorts for Gordon, and when she skipped town I took leadership." The purple paint seemed to be old, because it watered down and dripped down the side of the building, exposing some of the blood red dye. It left his beautiful flower portrait a strange, scarlet mess.

"Speech."

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Washington perched high on top of one the old, familiar trees. The only recognizable feature on the giant bird was his golden eyes, though much more vibrant now than in his last form. He was hated as a saluki, as 'George', who still resided in the back of his mind. But that didn't matter now. The moment had passed, and was hopefully forgotten. Everyone presumed him to be dead, and that was okay. Maybe one day he would return, once he gained enough strength to switch back and forth between forms. For now, he was content as Washington, the giant harpy eagle. And maybe Caera was still here.

He clucked at the name. It was petty, and the real George Washington would be rolling in his grave if he knew that the King had stolen his name.

"Speech."

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The eagle fluttered out of the sky, and rested behind the other two present, both of whom he didn't recognize. Yet, in his healthier mind, his breath hitched at the sight of Caera. Though he knew she hadn't physically aged, her prescence seemed older. It didn't even click to him that she was calling the Cartel to arms against the Westeros. Once it did, his blood ran cold. They were one of the reasons his other body was riddled with scars, and a very poor mental state. Washington was healthier physically, compared to the almost anorexic vampire canine he used to be, but there were some wounds that ran too deep. George stirred inside of him, swearing at the fact that he was too weak to take control, and the bird smuggly kept him in check. He tried to make eye contact with Caera, "Alright, Granny." He had switched forms, and switched minds, yet few recognizable characteristics remained, like his airy voice, and golden eyes.

"Speech."