Dusk Syndicate Clearing

[vos]

Cats set to venture into the territories may do so now. The teams are as following:

Going to RiverClan is Storm ( @Hexict ) and Hamlet ( @fenic! )

Going to ThunderClan is Calixto ( @Nighty ) and Shale ( @Gusty ) and Locus ( @Lunacross )

Going to ShadowClan is Augustus ( @Dux ) and Finneous ( @JustJoye )

Going to WindClan is Patchy ( @narwhalgirliv ) and Rook ( @mirefern ) and Onyx ( @Queen of the Moon )

Please keep in mind that this is not a takeover of any kind. Where the DS currently stands is neutral. The DS's part in the plot is to either aid the Clans or continue to go against them and aid the Dark Forest followers. What you decide to do with your cats is left entirely up to you.


Due to the location of the DS, our cats will meet back up with each other at the Seastones, on the 12/8/16 (2:00pm/14:00 EST time). You won't need permission to begin posting there, I only ask that you wait until the time and date stated above.

After the meetup, your cat will be free to move around the territories and clans as they please until called back to the DS.

[Foreversoul]

Wave padded to the edge of the clearing and sat down, her sapphire eyes glinting as she looked to the sky. She licked her paw and laid down, unusually tired.

[goddess of ducks]

@Tiny Moony
Amya entered the clearing, her pastel yellow eyes glinting in the sunlight. The young Lynx like kit stalked towards the fresh kill pile. There she grabbed a small thrush and stalked away. The short tempered feline sat to eat her own prey, alone. Very rarely did she ever want others around her, and this wasn't exactly the time she did want other cats around her. The she cat liked being alone. She may seem more introvert that way, but it's what kept her from saying hurtful things to others then she would. She didn't like hurting others, especially with her words, but knew that if her emotions flared like they normally did, then she would have basically no control over it, so she found it best to stay alone.

[monfang]

Originally Posted by Nighty

@Tiny Moony
Amya entered the clearing, her pastel yellow eyes glinting in the sunlight. The young Lynx like kit stalked towards the fresh kill pile. There she grabbed a small thrush and stalked away. The short tempered feline sat to eat her own prey, alone. Very rarely did she ever want others around her, and this wasn't exactly the time she did want other cats around her. The she cat liked being alone. She may seem more introvert that way, but it's what kept her from saying hurtful things to others then she would. She didn't like hurting others, especially with her words, but knew that if her emotions flared like they normally did, then she would have basically no control over it, so she found it best to stay alone.

Weiser walked over and saw Amya eating. He grabbed a small vole and sat a few tail-lengths away. He looked over at her, and after eating half, he grabbed the other half and dropped it infront of her. "Hi, I'm Weiser!" he purred.

[goddess of ducks]

Originally Posted by Tiny Moony

Weiser walked over and saw Amya eating. He grabbed a small vole and sat a few tail-lengths away. He looked over at her, and after eating half, he grabbed the other half and dropped it infront of her. "Hi, I'm Weiser!" he purred.

Amya glanced at him, and only that. She took a bite out of her own thrush that lay at her paws, only a few bites taken from it. "Amya." she said shortly. "And I don't need your vole. Especially not a half eaten one." she remarked sternly. Her quiet meal had obviously taken a turn, which she wasn't happy about. She hated when other cats saw her as a petite she cat who needed help. She was just as capable as the strongest fighter!

[monfang]

Originally Posted by Nighty

Amya glanced at him, and only that. She took a bite out of her own thrush that lay at her paws, only a few bites taken from it. "Amya." she said shortly. "And I don't need your vole. Especially not a half eaten one." she remarked sternly. Her quiet meal had obviously taken a turn, which she wasn't happy about. She hated when other cats saw her as a petite she cat who needed help. She was just as capable as the strongest fighter!

Weiser simply shrugged and grabbed the vole, eating the rest. "Nice to meet ya. Say, what do you wanna train for?" he asked. "I might wanna be a healer, at least then I'm protected, but being a guard sounds cool! I know a guard, and he says that he was picked by Renn himself!" he purred. He was a bit of a sweetheart, and no one could see him fighting though he was a very tough fighter.

[goddess of ducks]

Originally Posted by Tiny Moony

Weiser simply shrugged and grabbed the vole, eating the rest. "Nice to meet ya. Say, what do you wanna train for?" he asked. "I might wanna be a healer, at least then I'm protected, but being a guard sounds cool! I know a guard, and he says that he was picked by Renn himself!" he purred. He was a bit of a sweetheart, and no one could see him fighting though he was a very tough fighter.

Amya looked on boredly. Her gaze was blank. "A fighter. Too boring to be a hunter, too little action to be a healer." she said, her tone brisk and short. She watched him as he scarfed down his meal and took another bite of her own. She wasn't one for conversation, so she wouldn't continue it.

[Empress Of Evil]

Originally Posted by Duskflight

Hannibal ate the same way every single time, being a very methodical cat in his ways, including his grooming habits, so the sounds he was making, though unintentional, were like that every time he feasted. Most cats learned to block out the unpleasant sounds, others were completely disgusted by it, others saw it as a sign that he was warning them that they were to be his next victim. It depended on the cat on how they interpreted it, but unknown to them, Hannibal meant nothing by it.
Waiting patiently after he had spoken, his eye's remained focused on hers, almost as if to lock her into place, trapping her in their orange pits until she answered, then, maybe he would grace her by looking away for even just a few seconds. His tail flicked slowly back and forth as he waited for the white she-cats reply, not making a sound or even a move aside from his tail. His face remained stony as her mouth gaped open and then closed and repeated as if a fish gasping for air, perhaps stunned by his approach to her? Likely. And then after what seemed like a painful time for Tundra, she finally spilled out an answer, an empty purr escaping him, it was filled with artificial happiness that could almost be mistaken for the real thing. "Thank you." Meowed the tom, politely enough, stepping forward to settle down next to her.
"I have to say, I don't think I recall having met you madam. Might I ask your name?" Hannibal began to nonchalantly groom his shoulder, his orange hues focused on her and only her. This conversation was completely harmless for her, unless she happened to screw up and break the only rule he had, but it was beneficial for him. He liked to keep tabs on every cat he came across, storing the information he gathered into his mind palace so that if it was ever needed, he could pull it out and use another day. Should she ever do anything to endanger him, or should she ever commit a crude act, he would use all of the information he gathers on her to determine how he would proceed with her. Some cats weren't worth the time it spent in driving them insane and so he would simply end her if it came down to it, some cats were worth putting the time into torturing them mentally and so he would perhaps drive her into the pit of insanity in which she would never return. Or perhaps she would stay on his good side, if that was even a thing with Hannibal. The conversation they have will determine her fate with him, and if that didn't put some weight on the already heavy atmosphere between them, then I don't know what would.

Ok Tundra. Stay calm and don't mess up your words. Don't mess up, Tundra repeated in her mind over and over again. This was one of the worst situations she had ever been put in. She was stuck in a conversation with Hannibal! The cat that could kill her in an easy paw swipe if she said a single word wrong. And to make things worse, Tundra knew she was quite an awkward cat when it came to conversations. Tundra didn't talk much to other cats, she preferred to be alone. Because of her lack of conversation with other cats, the siberian she cat had earned herself the trait of awkwardness. But even so, Tundra was an awkward cat in general. She hated that about her. Sometimes she would wonder why she couldn't just be the way that most other Syndicate cats were. Bloodthirsty, overconfident and ruthless. Tundra was just about the opposite of that. She hated seeing other cats blood (It's just so gross for her), she was so awkward and not confident with everything she did and she wasn't ruthless! She was....a failure. A failure and embarrassment to the Syndicate, the little family she had and everything else she belonged to. That's the way that Tundra saw and described herself.
Tundra awaited how Hannibal would reply. She thought back to what she had said. She had only replied with a simple 'sure'. It wasn't going to help her improve with her conversation skills one bit. Oh well, at least she didn't stutter when she said that. That's one bonus. The fighter wondered if she would ever be able to gain confidence in her speaking skills and learn to just speak like 'normal cat'. She really hated how she wasn't confident, how she stuttered everytime. There was about only a few cats that Tundra didn't stutter in front of. Kits, her sister and....actually that was about it. Tundra sighed inwardly. Why was it so hard for her to talk normally yet it was so easy for her to think without stuttering? She was so glad she wasn't the Commander or Co-Commander. Imagine her trying to do big speeches in front of all the cats in the syndicate. Tundra would probably just faint at the thought of doing something like that, if she was told to do that.
"O-Oh, I'm Tundra sir", Tundra said. When she had first thought of how to reply she had strictly commanded herself to sound confident. And guess what? She stuttered on the first word. So much for confident! Tundra sat as still as a statue, the only thing that she moved was her mouth when she talked and her eyes. She could feel Hannibal's reddish-orangey hues piercing into her own yellowish-greenish eyes. She tried super hard not to make eye contact, but there was something in Hannibal's stare that wouldn't let her pull away. As if capturing her in a cage made out of fire. And this wasn't the 'romantic' kind of capturing, this was the 'If you look away you'll be gone soon' king of capturing. Tundra realised she was just staring back at Hannibal with a frozen expression and she quickly thought of something to say. "U-Uh what's your name s-sir?". The words tumbled out before she had time to properly think of what to say. The siberian she cat knew perfectly well that Hannibal was Hannibal, but it wasn't her fault. She didn't give herself a chance to think of what to say. Plus, she probably would've said that anyway. It was Tundra's beginner ways of continuing an introduction. If someone asks you for your name you state your name and ask for theirs, even if you already know. Just pretend you don't.

[Random Melody]

The sand-colored she-cat was sprawled out on a long, flat rock, her paws stretched out in front of her and one crossed over the other. Her head was raised, ears flicking as she let her emerald green eyes drift around boredly. Her tail swished, running over the rock below her as she drew her back paws under her. Briefly considering hunting, she let her tongue pass over her jaws at the thought of sinking her teeth into warm flesh and feeling the familiar tang of blood on her tongue.

Sandy slitted her eyes as she gazed around, her eyes flickering over each and every cat in the clearing. Hunting, patrolling...Either way she'd make sure she got to sink her claws into something living and warm. Because when you're evil thats all you think about, at least thats all Sandy thought about. Every day for the she-cat, it was like she had a one track mind--Killing was always priority. First, priority.

Maybe one of my dimwitted 'pals' would like to join me for a hunt. She thought, amusement lighting her hues for a split second before it disappeared. Though she was smirking deviously to her self as she thought, eyes narrowed as she let her gaze travel around. Perhaps she'd go hunting later, but for now she'd like to observe. She liked to have information of every cat in the Syndicate, for...Personal reasons. Things she and only she had to know.

[The Cannibal]

Originally Posted by Empress Of Evil

Ok Tundra. Stay calm and don't mess up your words. Don't mess up, Tundra repeated in her mind over and over again. This was one of the worst situations she had ever been put in. She was stuck in a conversation with Hannibal! The cat that could kill her in an easy paw swipe if she said a single word wrong. And to make things worse, Tundra knew she was quite an awkward cat when it came to conversations. Tundra didn't talk much to other cats, she preferred to be alone. Because of her lack of conversation with other cats, the siberian she cat had earned herself the trait of awkwardness. But even so, Tundra was an awkward cat in general. She hated that about her. Sometimes she would wonder why she couldn't just be the way that most other Syndicate cats were. Bloodthirsty, overconfident and ruthless. Tundra was just about the opposite of that. She hated seeing other cats blood (It's just so gross for her), she was so awkward and not confident with everything she did and she wasn't ruthless! She was....a failure. A failure and embarrassment to the Syndicate, the little family she had and everything else she belonged to. That's the way that Tundra saw and described herself.
Tundra awaited how Hannibal would reply. She thought back to what she had said. She had only replied with a simple 'sure'. It wasn't going to help her improve with her conversation skills one bit. Oh well, at least she didn't stutter when she said that. That's one bonus. The fighter wondered if she would ever be able to gain confidence in her speaking skills and learn to just speak like 'normal cat'. She really hated how she wasn't confident, how she stuttered everytime. There was about only a few cats that Tundra didn't stutter in front of. Kits, her sister and....actually that was about it. Tundra sighed inwardly. Why was it so hard for her to talk normally yet it was so easy for her to think without stuttering? She was so glad she wasn't the Commander or Co-Commander. Imagine her trying to do big speeches in front of all the cats in the syndicate. Tundra would probably just faint at the thought of doing something like that, if she was told to do that.
"O-Oh, I'm Tundra sir", Tundra said. When she had first thought of how to reply she had strictly commanded herself to sound confident. And guess what? She stuttered on the first word. So much for confident! Tundra sat as still as a statue, the only thing that she moved was her mouth when she talked and her eyes. She could feel Hannibal's reddish-orangey hues piercing into her own yellowish-greenish eyes. She tried super hard not to make eye contact, but there was something in Hannibal's stare that wouldn't let her pull away. As if capturing her in a cage made out of fire. And this wasn't the 'romantic' kind of capturing, this was the 'If you look away you'll be gone soon' king of capturing. Tundra realised she was just staring back at Hannibal with a frozen expression and she quickly thought of something to say. "U-Uh what's your name s-sir?". The words tumbled out before she had time to properly think of what to say. The siberian she cat knew perfectly well that Hannibal was Hannibal, but it wasn't her fault. She didn't give herself a chance to think of what to say. Plus, she probably would've said that anyway. It was Tundra's beginner ways of continuing an introduction. If someone asks you for your name you state your name and ask for theirs, even if you already know. Just pretend you don't.

She's as easy to read as a book. She's on the verge of a heart attack inside having to hold a conversation with me, she knows about me apparently. Well then good, we should remain on good terms, I won't have to deal with any sort of rudeness coming from her. Thought the tom to himself while he wore that stony mask of his, an empty smile placed on his muzzle in a mild gesture to show that he was waiting for her to speak to him. She doesn't hold a very good conversation at all, but then again, I suppose I can't expect every cat to be completely forthcoming to me. Though from her demeanor, I could assume that she's like this with any other cat, perhaps just worse so with me. Interesting, but then again not, I knew it would be like this. Sighing inwardly, he kept the smile on his muzzle and kept his gaze locked on Tundra as he waited for her name, though he already knew it. He's seen her occasionally around the Syndicate.
"Tundra." He repeated for a moment, appearing to be in thought before continuing on. "Your parents likely named you that because of the color of your fur, hm?"
At least she had an easy answer to where her name came from, Hannibal had no clue to the reasoning behind his own name, not that he cared much, he was the one to have killed his parents anyways. But still, it was a mystery the tom would never get to solve.
"Oh? Surely you've heard my name around here. I am Hannibal." That empty smile curled up into a wide grin, his orange-red hues glimmering with an unknown look. "Some like to refer to me as 'Hannibal the Cannibal', rather.. Catchy. Don't you think?" Now this wasn't something he usually included in conversation, but he was curious to see how she would react since she was so soft-spoken, so meek, so easily frightened. What would she do with this information? He was incredibly interested to find out.