City Lights<->Semi-Lit Alley Cat Roleplay [Open :3]

[duckteeth]

['Night then. ^^ And they're not baaaad. The only reason I have any writing ability is because I'm oing my boring homework so my creativity is asking to be let out xD]

Mordecai smiled fondly at Foxglove, remembering when they first met. She'd actually been nice to him, she'd called him handsome, and for him, well, that was nothing short of a miracle. He'd spent the majority of his kittenhood eing tormented for his looks. It wasn't his fault that he was an incredibly awkward mixture of two completely different cat species. It wasn't his fault he was so mismatched. Foxglove had made him feel like he might not be that horribly unattractive, though, and that was one of the reasons he enjoyed her company. "Alright. No promises I'll choose a good place, though." He purred. Lifting his muzzle he sniffed the air, trying to locate where cat scents were coming from so he wouldn't have a meet in with any angry felines. He didn't want to fight. Not now at least. "C'mon..." he meowed, turning left. "Lets hope this is the right way."

[free.]

Layla.
She tuned out about ten seconds in to his rambling. Her mind traveled way back to distant times. To her very own first kill. Everyone has to start somewhere, right?

"Leave me alone Naomi!" The tiny gray kitten stared defiantly up at the skinny, tawny adult she-cat that was leering over her. Intense blue and amber gazes met. Though she wasn't even a third the size of the adult female, and was trembling like a leaf in the wind, Layla held her ground. Yes, the tiny kitten was Layla. Young and innocent and naive. No physciotic issues. Yet. The other cat, Naomi, sneers down at her. "Tsk tsk, Layla. You're not being very nice to your new mommy, now are you? I think you should be taught a lesson." Layla flattens her ears, a tiny hiss escaping her mouth. Her blood boils, and she has the strangest sensation, one she's never felt before. Naomi wasn't her mother, and never would be. With a cry of outrage, the tiny kit lashes out one silver forepaw and slices a clean cut across the other cats neck. The shock on Naomi's face mirrors Layla's. Her stepmother is trying to speak, to hiss, but blood gurgles and gushes out instead, and she stumbles to the ground. Within a matter of moments she is lifeless, frail and tiny in the vast junkyard. Layla stumbles back a few feet, fear and uncertainty plain across her face. Moments later she turns tail and dissapears, a silver blur across the open land.

Her mind snaps to present time, although nothing on her face gave any indications that she hadn't been there the whole time, listening to Julian. Who by the way, was still rambling on. It hadn't been long after the incident with Naomi that Draco had first appeared in her life. He had seen her kill Naomi, and offered her the deal of a lfietime. And Layla had accepted. Sometimes she missed those days, working with Draco and Millie. Learning the art of perfection. The art of killing. They were perhaps the only real friends she'd ever had. Lyla mentally shook herself. It didn't matter anymore. That time was over. She'd got what she needed from them, and had moved on to a new life. Eventually, Julian stopped his endless spewing of words and Layla was able to get a word in edgewise. "Err, uh, if I may interrupt; I have just realized your name has escaped my knowledge. What is it?" She asked politely, a placid smile on her face. "I'm Layla, by the way." Her smile grew even warmer.

[duckteeth]

Julian had taken a pause in his endless chattering to collect his thoughts when Layla had spoke again. "Oh, Layla is a pretty name." He meowed, soudning absurdly idiotic and not really realizing it. "I'm Julian. It's, uh, nice to meet you." Where on earth had him telling her about the time he'd almost caught a pigeon but decided not to because he didn't need to kill it make her ask him his name? Actually, she'd rather rudely interjected into what he had been saying. But it didn't matter much to him. Someone was talking to him and what she was saying wasn't a threat.

[Wildmagic_warrior]

Thomas looked from the housecat to the molly he had interrupted, and suddenly realized that none of this was his business. He had found the screamer- this tubby tom in front of him- and beyond that, he didn't really care what they did. The end of his tail curled into a sort of question-mark shape as they talked, and he felt as though he could die of boredom. Finally he said, "I've had enough of this. Enjoy your life, kid. Miss, I can't say the same for you because you're street. Good hunting, I guess. Congratulations on surviving this long." With a flick of his whiskers, Tuxedo Thomas turned and headed back up the alley, away from the scent and sight of blood. He turned left onto the sidewalk and kept close to the wall, listening to the steady thrum of the cars on the street. That was the city's heartbeat, the cars and people its blood. Not that Thomas cared for all of that deep sentimental crap. New York was not-had never been, would never be- his home, but he tolerated it. He would much rather be a mouser on a farm somewhere, with rodents in his belly and a long life ahead of him. It wasn't likely to happen here.

[MintCat]

(Could Robin go back to his nest, and have someone follow him...? 8D Since it's kinda boring and such.....)

Quicksilver paused after catching two mice and a pidgeon, and started to head off back to the kit and the she-cat. Her neck was aching against the weight of her prey, and she was, for the first time in her life, nervous. She was nervous that, with a mouthful of prey, she wouldn't be able to see clearly, and would get run over. Get a hold of yourself. Quicksilver hissed in her mind, Remember the reason your name is Quicksilver? You're fast. You won't get hit. Without another moment to think about her desicion, the tiny she-cat launched herself across the street....

[.kestral]

(Copper an Cobalt are free if anyone wants to interact!)

[honeydont]

"No, I'm fine. Really." Thirteen protested; but then her eyes slid back down to the chicken and she shuffled her feet. "Well..." The she-cat took another bite and nodded seriously. "Now I am. Really, really. You can have it, Bandit. It was yours in the first place." It was the truth, for the most part. Thirteen's stomach was so tiny that it didn't take much to fill her up.

~ ~ ~

Tannaheare had been drowsing, bored with the chatter of the cats - why had he even come here in the first place? - when he heard a familiar name. Layla. The tom snorted disdainfully. The pretty little she-cat was back, was she? Time to leave. Tannaheare got to his feet and began to stroll away. "I wouldn't trust her as far as you could throw her, housecat." He growled in the general direction of the pair.

[duckteeth]

Julian was about to reply to Tom when Tannaheare interjected with his comment. Julian's head spun so fast it hurt his neck. "What?" He meowed, turning to look back at Layla in shock. What did he mean by that? Why shouldn't he trust her? What had she done? "Why?" Julian was very confused, to say the least. He turned to look in Tannaheare's direction again, then back at Layla.

---

Bandit shrugged, tail twitching. "You were in there first. It was yours first, kinda." Honestly, Bandit wasn't sure why she was being so nice to Thirteen. Usually, she'd be very protective of her food and would never be willing to share it with anyone. She figured that there was something in Thirteen that reminded her of Strike. Strike. "Hey." Bandit burst out, "Have you seen Strike lately?"

[MintCat]

Black spoke up for the first time and a slightly sneering voice, "Because she kills." She called over, tail tip twiching slightly as she sat in the shadows. The young she-cat leapt up onto a ledge high up and stared down at the tom with large, dark-coloured eyes as she continued, "She looks nice, I'll tell you that, but that's how she draws in cute toms like you." With a toothy grin, Black laid down on the ladge and dangled her tail down, swishing it back and forth.

[pancreas]

(Sure, sure, I'll send Rob back to the nest. If anyone wants to stalk him, be my guest. If not, I'll let Darth Vader wreck some havoc. :>)

Robin trotted through a jitty leading from the rubbish dump, the place where he had spent his day searching for food. Although he hadn't liked leaving Cleo and the nest alone, it had been unavoidable. And it had been worth it. The plump, stupid pigeon hanging from his jaws showed that. And he had hidden more prey at the edge of the dump, where he could collect it at will. Flicking his ears, the tom came to a stop, letting the large bird fall to the ground. Clearing his throat, Robin called out softly, "Cleo? I'm back!" He seized the pigeon by the neck again and made his way down the alley. It was silent. Strange. Flicking his tail, he deposited the prey under a broken paving slab and moved forwards more slowly, his ears twitching. "Cleo! Where are you?" He hoped she hadn't wandered off somewhere.

"You chose the mailbox last time, didn't you? That was nice enough." She smiled sweetly at him and waited for him to take the lead. As she did, she heard a name, uttered by one of the cats in the alley opposite them. Layla. Layla. That name rang a bell. Where did she know it from? Furrowing her brow, Foxglove racked her brains and came up with nothing. She must have met the cat shortly before her and Mordecai were separated. After casting the alley one last glance, she turned away from it with a sigh. Later, she promised herself. "Mordecai, do you recognise the name Layla?" The she-cat asked as she rushed to catch up with him, "I can feel something in the back of my mind, something important, but I can't place the name." She glanced at her paws as she walked, deep in thought. She must have known this Layla. Maybe she'd been a friend. Perhaps she knew why Foxglove couldn't remember the last however-long-it-had-been.