splashy.
Administrator
the site's official gas mask.
it's going down, i'm yelling timber
Posts: 41
Last Online: Jan 25, 2014 21:06:29 GMT -5
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Post by splashy. on Sept 15, 2013 14:01:17 GMT -5
Princeton Louvel. He wasn't exactly your typical BloodClanner. In the sense that he never killed anyone himself. Of course, he'd had them assassinated for him, but the tom was quite a neat freak, and he would never get his paws dirty. Their alabaster elegance could never be tainted or tarnished by the crimson soak of blood. That simply just would not do. Anyways, the cinnamon and white tom flicked his tail as he padded from the throne room, his robin's egg blue eyes casual and regal as he carried himself down the hallway with grace. Princeton had been in line for the throne since birth, as he was in the long line of kings from birth. Though, he'd still be merely the Heir, and not the King yet, if he hadn't had his dear father, Peter Louvel, assassinated so he could seize power. Yes, it was cruel, but then again, it was something that fit Princeton's personality entirely. Actually, he hadn't been the original Heir either, so he'd slaughtered his two older brothers in order to gain the throne, even if it had been completely and utterly wrong to all extents. Yet, could you blame him? Being the youngest of three tom cats, he'd been pretty spoiled as a kitten. When he hadn't been made Heir, Princeton had thrown a fit, and ordered his assassin's to kill the two older toms. That left no one in the way of his rise to power, minus his father. Letting the deaths settle down a bit, the thirteen moon old had struck again, taking down his mother, followed suit by his father. All his family needed to be wiped out in order to keep his guilt to a minimum. Now, two moons later, fifteen moon old Princeton Louvel was the guilt-free King of BloodClan. Though, he had no mate and no direct Heirs, which could prove to be an issue. So, this was the reason he was headed to the Dining Hall now. Leaping atop his seat at the Head Table, he cleared his throat, hoping to drown out the noise of his subjects' chatter so he could make an announcement.
"BloodClan! It has come to my attention that we have no direct Heir to the throne. If something were to happen to me, what would we do? So, let the courting begin with a ball! Toms may ask any she-cat they want, but I will ultimately get to choose who ends up with me. Let the planning begin, my loyal felines." The cinnamon and white tom cat meowed with a grin, blinking his eyes as he spoke with enthusiasm.
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fawn
Administrator
up with your turret
Posts: 19
Last Online: Sept 6, 2014 14:38:11 GMT -5
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Post by fawn on Sept 15, 2013 15:29:37 GMT -5
A ball, that was a new event that the female had not yet heard of. Fiona gently slunk her willowy frame into the great hall in which Princeton Louvel stood. The ivory she-cat tilted her head to the side gently, listening to what he had to say before dipping it down in a polite nod. Fiona's head was crowned in a beautiful flower crown, mostly made of pale coral pink roses as well as white daisies here and there. She had spent a while creating it, seeing as with pads and no claws, it was rather difficult to intertwine all the rosettes together. She was proud with her creation, and it seemed that spending her time in the garden had paid off, for with the crown of flowers rung gently around her pale white ears, she was beaming with pride. The 11 moon old was close to becoming a full warrior, and she was extremely excited. To be quite honest, she was of age anyways, it just hadn't been announced officially yet, so she still kept the title of apprentice. Honestly, it had been so long before she had ever felt happy about something, something true. The last time had been when she had been adopted by her twoleg family, the little girl of only 5 grabbing her from the shelves of the pet store. Fiona remembered her name, something like Alison, but has she grew older and less interested in her, Fiona knew it was time to go. The only issue was, she had been declawed by the little twoleg's master, and it hurt. Now she was just soft paws and pink pads, nothing more, and nothing less. She was practically a walking target for anyone to murder, with no abilities besides her teeth for protection. Her baby blue eyes flickered out of the reminiscence, averting up to the chandelier that stood extended above the great table. It was beautiful, the lights and the crystal, all combined on an alloyed amount of brass and copper.
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splashy.
Administrator
the site's official gas mask.
it's going down, i'm yelling timber
Posts: 41
Last Online: Jan 25, 2014 21:06:29 GMT -5
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Post by splashy. on Sept 15, 2013 18:11:31 GMT -5
Ah, Fiona. She'd always been around, somewhat, and she'd also always managed to catch his very watchful eye. With a gentle flick of his tail, the tom leaped from the seat on which he was standing on, and slowly weaved his way through the tables to stand before the pretty young she-cat. She was four moons younger than him, and age difference, but not to much of a difference. With a gentle smile, the king stopped before her, blinking slowly. "Hello, my dear." Princeton meowed, his eyes bright.
[low muse what the heck]
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fawn
Administrator
up with your turret
Posts: 19
Last Online: Sept 6, 2014 14:38:11 GMT -5
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Post by fawn on Sept 15, 2013 21:43:45 GMT -5
Fiona dipped her head once more to the honourable king. She felt happy that he had addressed her individually, like she actually mattered amongst a crowd of grey faces. He was a very nice king, much nicer then most of the cats that she had met around Bloodclan, and hopefully they would learn better manners from him. "Hello Sir!" the she-cat chirped happily, voice bright and cheery unlike the dim outcast that Bloodclanners possessed. "How are you?" Fiona asked, baby blue doe eyes twinkling with her naivety.
> i know please pardon me i'm watching harry potter and i have no muse.
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