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Post by achromatic on Jun 22, 2021 11:21:45 GMT -5
FIRST POST of the cult plot! You can either just somehow waltz in or timeskip/rewind so that your character saw it earlier and they can all be in camp later to be like oh? what is this???
In the streets of the city, dead or dying cats didn't seem to be unusual anymore. It was an unspoken thing, but surely, everyone knew by now. There were too many mouths to feed and they were draining the life of the damn place like a parasite, feasting on the dead like there was nothing outside of tomorrow. It wasn't unusual to see a dead cat, slashed in the throat, thrown in the dumpsters, starving to death...
This was different. Rhiannon had been sitting at the base of the large oak in the middle of some a yard in an abandoned home, staring at the body of the cat half-buried in its roots. There was...no way the body was naturally there. Not at all. Whoever had done this, they had created it into almost an art form. Leaves covered and fanned from the cat's head, the only thing still visible above the earth, the leaves of the elder and the holly stuffed into its mouth, branches and roots pouring out as if actually growing from inside...
Any other cat would've thought the sight macabre, but Rhiannon knew better.
"Hey!" a voice called out from behind the she-cat, and she turned, her wide grey eyes meeting Hywel's baby blue ones, as he called out in a friendly manner.
"I thought I saw you around here," the tom was relaxed, amused, "weren't you supposed to be back–" His eyes immediately drifted to the red fur sticking out from the ground, his eyes widening in surprise and then...fear. "Rhiannon...what the hell–"
"I didn't do it," she spoke quickly, backing up from the burial ground, her expression solemn, "there's someone else out here. Someone like us."
"We need to go," his voice was curt, as a deep fear seemed to strike itself in his chest. Hywel wanted to swear; this was only asking for trouble at this point. Someone like them was here. Someone knew. A shudder ran down his spine. The symbol was only something they should've known.
"But who is it?" she spoke, not following behind her brother, choosing to stay instead, "there's others like us in the city, isn't there?"
"It doesn't matter," he snapped, a seriousness that was rarely seen in his eyes now evident, "you were too young when we left, but this means that whoever did...that...they're probably going to find us and do the same to us too."
In the shadows, red eyes suddenly beamed like demonic lights floating in a black abyss. “I wouldn’t go that far,” he hummed with a velvety tone, padding from the recesses of the yard toward the pair. Crimson gaze slid from the tom and she-cat down to the body seemingly decorated like an attraction in the garden. He tilted his head. “Unless you’ve been in the mind of a killer before, can you so confidently say it’s anything other than a corpse in a bed of grass?” He blinked. “Perhaps it was illness that took him. As he wheezed his final breaths, perhaps he crawled his way like a demented gargoyle beneath the roots.”
He lifted his chin. “It’s a wonderful exhibit for the macabre, whatever the origin.”
dm me if you want to listen to me ramble about the interstellar soundtrack
2,314 posts
Post by achromatic on Jun 22, 2021 19:56:25 GMT -5
Rhiannon immediately whirled around, her eyes blazing at the sudden intrusion. A stranger, and one she couldn't help but feel a certain energy radiate from. This cat had a presence, that was for sure, his red gaze making her spine tingle. A 'tsk' left her throat; she hated interruptions. "NO one asked you," she scoffed. Normal cats didn't know a single thing about the world they lived in; they all thought their gods were the one true being, yet the only thing that truly exists were the dueling gods of life and death.
Hywel, however, recognized the face almost immediately. His gaze narrowed, as he lept down from the wall he had already climbed up. "Cross, right?" he spoke, as if they had never met, irregardless of the fact that they had just spoken days ago, "you know anything of what happened here?"
Reynardine had just been trying to take a walk, to think over the recent developments in her family life, and now she was confronted with the sight of this murder so familiar. Around the corpse were several cats- the siblings she knew shared a homeland with her, and this familiar yet strange cat named Cross.
It took Reynardine a moment to collect her wits, to fight down the panic threatening to erupt. "Are cats here in the habit of choking on branches after burying themselves in the dirt?" She asked dryly, her split-color eyes turning on Cross. The siblings would know the meaning of this display, but Reynardine doubted that this tom did, nor did she want to disclose it to him.
Deleted
POSTEDJun 23, 2021 9:19:23 GMT -5 TO primal instinct
The chameleon was the next cat to arrive, her pale calico furs unruffled by the sudden gathering of cats who were like her. It was almost as if she had been drawn here, pulled by a force she could not understand to meet the others as they gathered around a body, one that was shockingly familiar. Perhaps, the Devil she made a deal with had finally come for her soul. There was a sardonic look in her eye at the very thought; the things that they had all run from, in some shape or form, had come back. It was enough to unsettle a cat, if transformation and chaos were not the very pillars of her identity.
"I wouldn't put it past them," Niahm responded with a shrug. Her casual nature was unsettling; where the others approached the body with concern, her own gaze was little more than interested. "What an unfortunate end," she muttered mostly to herself, before tapping the body with her paw. Yup, it was real, not just a sick delusion shared between cats of a common heritage. How... interesting. She turned back to the others. "Which one of you got a little careless? I can't imagine that this just happened to happen here." There was no accusation, really, in her voice, though. She was fully aware that no one would have purposely brought... this here.
It was the scent that attracted her — first her sisters’, and then the choking stench that could only belong to a cadaver. She’d seen plenty of corpses in her adventures, but when she cast a curious gaze on this one, she was taken by surprise for the first time in a long time.
She knew she was supposed to be sickened — or even concerned that an artifact of her past was here of all places — but strangely enough, excitement gorged her veins. When Verne looked at each gathered cat in turn, her gaze twinkled with unspoken words. Who done it?
dm me if you want to listen to me ramble about the interstellar soundtrack
2,314 posts
Post by achromatic on Jun 25, 2021 8:57:12 GMT -5
Everyone seemed to have their eyes on one another, the suspicion hanging so heavily in the air that Rhiannon could practically taste it. She had yet to meet the two newcomers before, but there was a look on Cross's face that seemed as if he had recognized one or two of the others in the crowd, and from her brother's words, it seemed clear the two had spoken before. She wasn't all too surprised at that either.
At Niamh's words, Rhiannon's head shot up. "You suspect one of us did it," she spoke dryly, not a question but a statement. She had no clue of who this cat was, but her level-headed approach made the she-cat raise a brow, "how do we know it isn't you?" Surely, there were only a few who truly understood what this meant, no?
"It's a sign," Hywel spoke, eyeing the corpse before turning to Reynardine, and then to his sister, not caring about the others and their eavesdropping. If they were from the north, they would've known, and if not, they'd surely dismiss his ramblings as the talk of some idiotic foreigner with too heavy an imagination. "Someone in this forest wishes to unlock something larger than us. They killed a cat and dressed it up in the sign of death."
He turned to Reynardine once more. "You said you thought we were alone," he spoke, trying to keep the accusatory tone from his lips, before turning to Cross. "Aren't you supposed to be in the know, having been chosen by our leader to take care of the league's...affairs?"
"Darling, I wasn't suggesting that anyone here actually killed him," she meowed with a pleasant tone, her eyes flashing. "Simply that someone would have had to make our presence known. It's awfully far from the North to be a coincidence." It was a hint of recognition, a way to say that Niahm did know exactly what was going on. If her suspicions were right, so did this cat. Which could only mean one thing; the two shared a common ancestor. Otherwise, she could imagine Rhiannon would have probably panicked; what else was there to do when you saw a body like that, unless you knew its relevance?
The Towers flickered her tail with a shrug. "But, you're awfully defensive. If the shoe fits, then maybe it fits." She paused, before puffing out her chest; if it had been Niahm's doing, it would have been done with less care; after all, she never did her own dirty work. "If it makes you feel better, there's absolutely no way I'd get my paws that dirty," she then offered with a smirk, glancing over to her sister. Things had certainly gotten interesting, and she could only imagine her sister was having an absolute party with the new information.
"Am I?" Cross hummed with a small smile, gazing back at Hywel. "Many cats die in and outside of our League. Am I to log and report back every one? That in itself would be a lifelong commitment, I would never be able to return to my other duties." The black tom glanced at the corpse. "Does anyone remotely recognize this individual? If not, I suggest we walk away and forget about it. No matter how bizarre the final resting place." He tilted his head. "If you discover the body of an individual who was a member of our League, that will change things. But I won't stop my work for one feline who found themselves in the wrong place at the wrong time."
The tom glanced at the others that had gathered around them, briefly irritated at the growing attention and presence around the body. "Yet as it appears this is now a circus sideshow, perhaps this should be reported to Regulus E'tan." Crimson eyes glinted. "Which means this area is now a crime scene and needs to be vacated by anyone and everyone who didn't first stumble upon the body."
He looked at the group of others. "That means you."
"I thought we were alone," Reynardine responded under her breath, glancing back to Cross as he spoke. She had had a sneaking suspicion that there were others, but never anything to confirm it, so she hadn't brought it up. And now here was Niamh, hinting that she understood exactly what was going on, and Cross, interfering in it all.
"You're turning the mage away from a body?" The split-gazed she-cat said evenly, turning to look levelly at the proxy once more. "I'd love to examine a cat so talented they could stuff themselves full of leaves after burying themselves in the ground- since that's what you've implied that they did. Surely Regulus E'tan will think this as unimportant as you seem to, so why the sudden urge to make us scatter?"
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2,314 posts
Post by achromatic on Jun 29, 2021 5:33:50 GMT -5
Hywel couldn't help it, a snort of amusement left his mouth at Reynardine's words. He had forgotten the other cat was the mage really, but that was useful, to say the least. His eyes drifted to Niamh warily; he didn't know why but the other cat made him somewhat uncomfortable, especially with what she was insinuating. He gave Rhiannon a look; surely his sister didn't do it, but if she didn't...who did? He felt a shudder run down his spine; could it be one of these cats, perhaps?
All he knew was that as much as he had chatted with a couple of them, and found no ill will with any, that there was a high possibility that the murderer might've been one among them. He knew his paws weren't clean from blood either. Back home...
"Look, let's all calm down," Hywel spoke slowly, now looking more wary than ever, "something's going on and somehow, it seems like we all know exactly what it could be." He turned to Niamh and Verne. "Who are you two? I don't believe I've met either of you before. You're also from the loch." He knew he was stating the obvious.
Rhiannon, however, lacked the tact Hywel spoke with. "It's pretty clear that if we're the ones who know what's going on and what this is, that either one of you guys did this to either scare us or resurrect the ceremony, or there's another like us in this forest that's trying to scare us."
Deleted
POSTEDJun 29, 2021 8:40:08 GMT -5 TO primal instinct
Niahm rolled her eyes at Cross. It was harder for her to influence cats who held rank, something that she had realized with faint disinterest. They were often stronger than your average cat, and this strength made their mind significantly more resistant to her suggestions. It wasn't even worth trying to charm him; it was better to save her energy for cats that seemed more willing to change. "Unlikely," she snorted, before turning to Hywel.
"My name is Niahm." Her tail twitched, interested. She and Verne had been away from the Loch for what felt like a very long time, and she had absolutely no idea if the name held any meaning to anyone. At one point, it probably did. She could imagine how the Loch reacted the day that Niahm had called to the devil. "This is Verne," she meowed, motioning to her sister. The dilute calico had a feeling that Hywel would be her favorite; out of them all, he seemed like he could be the most fun, at least for her. "It's a pleasure to meet a fellow ghost of the North's past." Her voice was surprisingly warm, different than the tone that she used for the others. This changing may have been unsettling, in fact, it probably was. But the Towers was nothing if she wasn't easily able to transform.
She then glanced back to Rhiannon, letting out a yawn. "Our hands are clean, you really can trust me on that," she meowed with a chuckle, glancing to the others. "I can't speak for anyone else but Verne, but I've already got my paws full, and she has her paws full with me." The devil, it seemed, was a cruel plaything, and she was being quite honest when she said she didn't have the time nor patience to do old world ritual. "Truthfully, red eyes over there looks most capable. Maybe that's why he wants us all to go," she meowed with a wisp of amusement in her gaze. "Easier to hide evidence that way." The smile on her face proved that she really didn't suspect him, but it felt like it might be fun to get him going.
Verne was quiet as her sister spoke for them — but her eyes were active as she scrutinized Hywel and Niahm, Reynardine, and then Cross. She had a tendency to get engrossed in her own daydreams, even whilst other cats addressed her. It made her appear aloof, or timid, but she was anything but.
This red-eyed tom seemed like the obvious answer to her. Not only did he have a rather sinister appearance, but as the mage pointed out, his eagerness to have the others vacate the crime scene was fairly suspicious. But there was one hitch: why would the Internal Affairs proxy be involved in something this sordid?
This genial Hywel didn’t seem like a murderer, but that’s exactly what made him a top suspect in her eyes. It wouldn’t be beyond a killer to put on a front to defuse suspicion.
Or this could be one of this mage’s wicked experiments gone wrong. That seemed like a far-fetched prospect, but already Verne’s prismatic mind was envisioning Reynardine hunched over, venturing that she would be the one to distill the essence of eternal life. She already had infernal gifts in the arcane, and there was a certain ambition that came with a newly minted position.
Whilst the others were squabbling, Verne approached the corpse to give it a sniff. The body was relatively fresh. She looked up, and mewed, “Who was he? Will anyone be missing him?” Dealing with a vengeful mate, parent, or sibling was a lot more burdensome than grappling with a single thrill-seeking murderer.
Glancing at the mage indifferently, the tom returned his gaze to the body of the cat, no doubt roasting in the sun – at least the parts that were exposed – and soon to be smelling wonderful. How unfortunate it was that he had chosen to go on a seemingly peaceful stroll on one of his days off to stumble upon this. Part of him wanted to turn back and walk away, already bored of the situation and uninterested in the looks he was receiving. He was already used to being judged like a book by its cover, particularly by those in the League, who had no knowledge of who he was or his drive when he was brought into the Instinct and made proxy.
The other part of him wanted to succumb to the tension in the air, rile it further, watch the chaos unfold, allow himself some amusement – it was his day off after all, didn't he deserve to have a little fun, watch the pieces unravel? As it was, though, they were doing a fine job of it on their own. Even as they tried to bring things back together and handle the situation with the utmost of their maturity, it wasn't working particularly well.
Choosing to ride the line between paths, he stepped so his back half was cooled by the shadows of the garden, his front half still pleasantly warmed by the sun. Crimson eyes flicked from cat to cat, listening to their conversation, but idly. This would be a beautiful garden if the twolegs would finish it. Although surely the dead body of a cat would make their efforts more challenging. He wondered if they would try to extract the body and bury it, animal lovers they are. Or perhaps they would be thoroughly disgusted and call other twolegs to handle the matter.
--from the loch. She could have kept going, drifting passively through the shadows in the city, if it weren't for that. The observation lilted on a whistling breeze and was snared by her rapturous attention, and no matter how she tried to goad herself---go, Laoise, get away from here, far away---she was fixated to the spot as if it were her that was entangled in the roots, rather than the body being inspected by the others. Her heart thundered in her chest. This has nothing to do with you---run, but her thoughts disconnected from her body, which moved disjointedly now, rounding the corner and approaching on wavering paws.
"Did someone mention the loch?" Her voice, though it would sound normal to anyone else, sounded disembodied to her, foreign. It spoke and she listened. "Was there an invitation I didn't receive?" This isn't the time for jokes, she reminded herself, inhaling to orient herself with the scene she couldn't see but the only scents she could detect was the foul stink of rot and the aroma of the--- "Devil's tree. What's happening here?"
[apologies for the short reply, i'm moving and i'm dead on my feet!]
"How many of us could there possibly be?" Reynardine muttered under her breath, shooting another sidelong glance at Cross. She didn't like or dislike him, but she certainly didn't trust him and his almost obnoxiously suave ways. Still, he wasn't speaking at the moment and there were other things to contend with. A newcomer, someone who also knew of the loch. This can't be a coincidence, that little voice in her head whispered.
"There’s a dead cat here, with branches shoved down his throat- and he’s buried in the roots of a tree." Reynardine shifted to the side, moving her gaze to get another view of the grotesque and ceremonial corpse. "And somehow all of us know its significance- or are trying to cover up the fact that we do," she said, resisting the urge to look at Cross again. "He's a stranger to me-" this aside was addressed to Verne, before turning back to Laoise. "Do you recognize his scent?"
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Post by achromatic on Jul 2, 2021 18:20:31 GMT -5
Rhiannon, despite her own wariness, was the first to approach the cat, giving a look over the way they were buried. Macabre, but...there was a certain artistry to it. Whatever was going on, there were a few things she was certain of. "Whoever did this knows about our legend," she mused, mostly talking to herself at this point, "and they know how to make an art piece." It was grotesque, yes, but there was no way anyone could just do something like this. "They must've had either a lot of time, or they know how to do this efficiently, which means this might not be the first body."
Hywel frowned, grimacing at his sister's description of it all. He turned to the others, particularly the mage and the proxy. "Any of you can tell whether this is fresh or not? Well, let me be clearer, how fresh is this? Did they really die from suffocating or was this some other kind of murder?" He wasn't an expert, but surely, the cats in charge of this damned city must've known a little more than he did.
Rhiannon however, wasn't bothered by any of the details. She glanced up at Verne's words, before looking to Laoise, the newcomer to this mess. "The real question is...this cat isn't from Primal Instinct, but we have no idea who they are and where they're really from. Don't you think this is a bit of a coincidence, that we're all here?"
She looked to the body again. "Not sure anyone's gonna miss this guy, but with everything going on, don't you think there's a chance that they might've been one of us? Someone from the loch? The real question is, is this a warning or not? Is someone doing this to send us a message, or are they really trying to recreate one of the ceremonies from up north?" There were hidden meanings in her words; whoever this cat was, they had a past. They could've been from the same cursed place. They could've spilled a secret that should've never been spoken of.
Post by Shadowbladeღ on Jul 17, 2021 23:06:22 GMT -5
Alula-nova needed little reason to run out and explore, so how convenient something was just pulling at her? It was different than normal kit wanderlust days, she genuinely felt like there was some place she needed to be and happily content with accepting the consequences as she sneaked away from everyone, after all - consequences were for those who get caught, and she's learned since her first expedition. - Convenience meet humor, because how funny for her instincts to lead her to come across a familiar scent? Niahm? Now that would be great to prank her favorite little role model. No way, though it must just be her passing by and she should take it as a reminder to keep quiet and watch out for any adults that might ruin her fun and take her back to camp. Still, following the direction she wanted to go, there came a point where a voice, no two - multiple? What was she walking into? And why did she get 'pulled' here? She kept quiet and downwind - she needed to asset the situation and figure out what was going on and ... what was that?
'There’s a dead cat here, with branches shoved down his throat-' Guess she came at a good recap time, although Alula didn't understand why but something about this felt familiar - like she should know what this is but it was a hazy mental block. It's, it was.. because.. oh no- could this have been mom or dad's work? She was always creative with her revenge - maybe someone likened her to a rose but all thorns with the head cut off. She didn't doubt Accalia could make a mockery of someone by turning them into an ugly bouquet of bare branches and the most drab, unsightly leaves that happened to be painfully spiked and serrated-edged to slice all the way down. But to be so vicious and cruel, she hadn't directly seen that level of animosity of her mother yet...
'and they know how to make an art piece.' So meticulous and an exotic aesthetic of ill yet masterful taste to call this art? She didn't even hesitate to believe their father would cross the line, it finalized the panic in her heart, trying to make sense of it her mind -not that he would even need a reason- muddling the conclusion. It flipped the switch to make her blood run cold, the wave of rush crawling through her skin and body telling her whatever it was, she needed to get to them first and hold on to that sliver of possibility she was wrong or that she could stop this from going further. Because denial and ignoring it is the way to go kids... She slowly took a step back.
(Idk if Alula will immediately know/remember everything about the loch and significance so i'll have her play the ignorance angle because denial leaves the door open for hope that maybe more cats won't be ceremonially moi-dered.)
Post by ashestoashes on Jul 20, 2021 19:06:24 GMT -5
Tarn-kun however did not stop and made his way to the group of cats that gathered around the dead being with roots in it's mouth. If he didn't know any better he would even say it looked like... a... In that moment he knew it was a cat but dared to think how this would have occurred. However something about this too have a familiar feel to it...but he couldn't point how...
"Well I just walked right into something, huh? What is this I just came across? Who did this to this...cat? I highly doubt it could be one of you guys. Possible but...doubtful." He was confident in his answer at least. Then again why wouldn't he? He was the chariot after all. The grey lykoi cat looked to everyone recognizing his fellow Primal Instinct cats. "I heard Loch...? What is that?"
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2,314 posts
Post by achromatic on Jul 31, 2021 20:08:12 GMT -5
Rhiannon didn't want to show the surprise on her face, but the way her fur prickled, already standing up showed clearly enough that the strangers' presence and the growing crowd was...uncomfortable to say the least. She didn't trust any new cats, especially with talk of their old ancestral home. This was just...new things. Nothing was going on.
Her eyes darted to the others, as if telling them to keep their mouths shut about this until they knew who these strangers were. "You shouldn't be here," she replied curtly, "some cat was murdered, yes, and we haven't got a clue who did it or why." That wasn't true, but until she knew who this cat was, she wasn't planning to let anything slip.
"Who are you?" she glanced to Alula, and then to Tarn, "and have you seen anything around here that...seems out of place?"
