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so long we’ve become the flowers || joining Empty so long we’ve become the flowers || joining

Post by ghost on Wed Nov 04, 2020 11:15 am



???
loner | brown spotted tabby | pixie-bob


Before them, the moor yawns. Coarse grasses wave under the breeze, pale seed heads rustling together. The sun is beyond its highest point in the sky, on the cusp of its descent into the far horizon. The blue of the sky is almost completely unbroken by clouds, marred only by a thin white line that bisects the heavens. Unnatural, it sits; a scar in the sky.

The body feels heavy today, as it has the day before, as the day before that, as it always has.

When they wish to move, it, the body, delays by moments. Disjointed and distant, they watch the body from a point just above it. Controlling the body is akin to trying to control a floating seed by blowing air from one’s nose. Possible, yes, but cumbersome. So much easier life would be without, and yet here they are, tethered like a dog to a post.

The trouble is this: They have died a long time ago. Unfortunate, yes, but they suspect they would have gotten over being dead with the grace the deceased seem to do most things. No, the trouble isn’t that they are dead; the trouble is in a small detail: everyone else seems to think they are still alive.

Admittedly, they still breath, their heart still beats. They still eat and make dirt, do the sort of things one would expect from a living being, the sort of behaviors one wouldn’t from a corpse. Someone else may wrack their brain about how this is possible, but they do not. They are dead, and the body still needs sustaining. Contradictory thoughts to most, but they exist peacefully in their mind. They are dead, and they cannot escape their body and let it rest.

A punishment, perhaps, they think and it feels like the first thought they’ve had in days.


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so long we’ve become the flowers || joining Empty Re: so long we’ve become the flowers || joining

Post by .:vanillatuft:. on Fri Nov 06, 2020 2:17 pm

VANILLATUFT
windclan - medicine cat - female - 22 moons - tags


having been out and about going on a little stroll with her friend batfang, vanillatuft's white tail was straight in the air with happiness as they bounded along. she always loved when she was able to get out of camp and do things other than be cooped up in the medicine den all day. anyone would love escaping that for a little bit!

she had gained a little bit of speed without realizing it, almost into a trot, and then the trot soon turned into a jog, and soon enough she was racing through the bracken and the flowers, a laugh echoing from her mouth as she finally got the chance to stretch her limbs. it just wasn't something she got to do often!

she found herself bursting through the bracken, and infront of her stood a cat. she hadn't picked up the scent at all, she was too busy racing. she hadn't heard them - she never does - and she hadn't felt their movements. it didn't look like they were moving much anyways. she came to a screeching halt, her eyes wide and her mouth slightly dropping open. was she about to die? her head swiveled as she waited for batfang to burst out behind her, and her tail twitched anxiously, quickly, behind her. she looked back at the cat infront of her. "who?" she managed, a bit loud, as her words always were.


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so long we’ve become the flowers || joining Rsz-1untitled231-20201118171012
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Post by ghost on Tue Nov 24, 2020 11:20 pm



???
loner | brown spotted tabby | pixie-bob

The one that comes to them is akin to a dandelion puff, her two blue eyes showing stark against her white fur. Slow to react, slow to respond, they blink at the stranger, regarding her with a steady gaze. Her voice then filters into their ears, the meaning soon to follow, and it feels like listening in on a language they've forgotten. They need to dig for the meaning, draw it to the front of their mind.

Oh.

"I'm not..." They start slowly, and the body has a scratchy, unused voice. After they start, they aren't certain they actually understood what was being asked. Who is such a broad question. All of the answers that are applicable are wrong. Words that would be doubted. The body shifts without their bidding, defensive in posture. So far away, trailing behind themself like the tail the body lacks, they can do nothing to relax the squaring of their shoulders.

"You... don't need to worry after me." They start walking once more then, continuing in the direction they had been going. With luck, the strange molly would leave them be, and they could continue on as they had been.

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so long we’ve become the flowers || joining Empty Re: so long we’ve become the flowers || joining

Post by .:vanillatuft:. on Thu Nov 26, 2020 12:32 pm

VANILLATUFT
windclan - medicine cat - female - 22 moons - tags


if this cat thought she was going to give up and just allow this stranger to pass by so easily, she was horribly wrong - vanillatuft had a sass in her, a fire in her, and she was going to figure out what was going on whether this cat liked it or not. her tail stuck straight in the air again and she raced after the cat, hopping infront of them to halt them from moving forward any more.

"name!" she announced, her fur bristling a bit. it looked as though she was trying to be scary, trying to frighten this cat into being afraid and answer her questions, but she never was able to look scary. it probably came from the fact she was so small - being partially munchkin and all - and she was just a round ball of soft fluff. she also had a loud, slightly high pitched voice that definitely could be anything but scary.

"windclan territory!" she told the cat again, now growing confidence. she usually never found cats on the moore! it was always patrols and things. this was exhilarating! this was fun! she was being a scary cat, protecting her clan!

but she could never stay scary for long. she felt bad. and she realized she hadn't even introduced herself. she also always was known for an issue with personal space, no matter who it was. she leaned forward to sniff the cat, getting perhaps a bit too close. she always saw the good in others, never was afraid of being attacked. she thought all cats were naturally good. "from where?" she continued. "i'm vanillatuft." her voice was no longer stout nor demanding, but curious and lighthearted. she flicked her tail curiously behind her.

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「 you can borrow some of mine! 」

so long we’ve become the flowers || joining Rsz-1untitled231-20201118171012
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so long we’ve become the flowers || joining Empty Re: so long we’ve become the flowers || joining

Post by ghost on Thu Nov 26, 2020 8:03 pm



???
loner | brown spotted tabby | pixie-bob

They nearly collide with her in their hurry to be away from here, stopping only a step away from such a thing happening. Their body twists then, ready to simply walk past the stranger once more, but they hesitate, consider. This could go on for some time, a game of blocking and evading that they do not wish to play.

Name? That's what she meant with who? Why not just lead with that? “Haven't a name,” Not anymore. It was one of the first things to go after their death, washed from their memory. An awareness exists in their mind, the same sort of awareness towards their bodies hunger, that sits parallel to where they think. Sometimes they remember. Currently, they do not. “Call me... whatever you like.

A lack of a name could cause some discomfort, they were aware. A name was a definition of the self, quintessential of identity. If one wanted to define themselves against the world, they needed a name.

And apparently the land they were on was named WindClan territory.

They think about the name, the parts of it. Wind- which made sense. The moor was a windy and, to their eyes, barren place. Presumably, the better part of it belonged to this clan. The clan part of the name- a family, a unit. That they labelled their family wind instead of merely calling it the Clan implied the existence of other clans. WindClan then, to define themselves against their neighbors, against the world they knew.

With her angry, their earlier comparison of the stranger to a dandelion puff feels even more apt. “Do not care,” What would she do, attack them? Hold them prisoner? They were merely walking, and they doubted this WindClan had a proper own of the land, the same way one couldn't own sunlight or rain. WindClan could live here as much as they wished, but to claim an area as expansive as this?

She seemed done trying to scare them into any kind of submission, asking about the place they were coming from and sharing her own name- Vanillatuft. “Far,” The body answers, ears folded. Growing impatient with this, then. There anger was rare and fiery, not to come out today, but they remember this anger, and forcibly relax the body.

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