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By the looks of her, she picked the wrong district to pledge her labor to. She was small, seemingly too small to inflict any damage, and her thick junkyard accent suggested she knew enough of the city to be more helpful to the Ambassadors, or even Foreign Affairs. It was a mystery, then, why she was so insistent on Punishment. That wasn't to say she hadn't proven herself effective at the tasks she did have; her size made her quick and precise. Still, there was a part of her that wondered what her life would have been had she decided to go into one of the intelligence communities. Perhaps that was why she lingered on the part of the territory Foreign Affairs had made clear was their space, watching curiously from just beyond sight.
pseudo this is bad but you know i never did know how to write starters hopefully i didn't fake remember offering to make this why am i still such a mess
By the looks of him, he had picked the wrong district to pledge his labor to. He was big, too damn big. Petrichor had four giant (left) paws and strikingly solid tan fur; how in Starclan's name was he supposed to gather intelligence from another clan without falling out of a tree and alerting the entire neighborhood in the meantime? What strengths did he have to play to? Resembling a rock if he curled up just right? Smooth-talking the local wayward warrior into giving up family secrets? Lacing branches into his winter pelt to become the brush? Absolutely. All of the above. Maybe he liked thinking on his feet, or getting himself out of tough situations, or perhaps he was just born to be nosy - but whatever the case may be, Petrichor liked his job just fine. He had a purpose, and there were days that having a purpose was everything.
Today, however, his purpose was boring. It was another day of nothing but trainees gossiping in the wood and watching the grass grow. It wasn't every day that you came across something groundbreaking, and today certainly wasn't one of those days. in the afternoon lull, he found himself wandering around camp, keen ears looking for something -- anything interesting to occupy his time before he shriveled up and died of boredom.
Out of sheer restlessness, it wasn't until he caught something odd out of the corner of his eye that he forced his shuffling paws to a halt. It was a pair of pale blue eyes, almost completely obscured from sight. It wasn't often that his comrades were hiding in the shadows of his own home, but these eyes, he couldn't seem to place. He stood for a moment, head slightly tilted and eyes narrowed at the pair of eyes, tail flicking. "Stop that." He announced his demand as though he was Primal royalty.
regardless of that, tell me why i read this title and was immediately like, "oh, this is for me, for sure." also I'm not sure I remember what the etiquette is for a first reply, so heres this heap of something.
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POSTEDAug 30, 2020 19:21:16 GMT -5 TO primal instinct
Sometimes, she lamented the fact that her eyes and pretty much anything about her stood straight out against the darkness that was the rest of Primal Instinct like a sore thumb. This was one of those times, and her tail lashed in frustration once. She had already been caught? You're getting soft on me, McKellen, the voice in her head murmured, keep it up, and you'll find yourself out of a place to live. The voice was probably wrong; in the last few years Primal Instinct had gotten a whole lot less terrifying in a visceral, will slit your throat and watch you bleed on the cement kind of way. Because of this, she figured she could probably stick around for a long time, even if she hadn't mastered the skills of lurking yet.
She muttered a curse under her breath, before raising the equivalent to a cat eyebrow, if such a thing existed. "Or what, baby doll? Ya gonna bite me?" Her tone was equal parts taunt and charm. She looked at him expectantly, which was, granted, rather ballsy, being that he relentlessly towered over her. But, if she was one thing and one thing only, she was the opposite of a coward, and found herself in similar situations more often than could possibly be healthy or helpful. One of these days, she was going to do this to the wrong cat, play tough girl and get her ass handed to her. That day had yet to come, though, and something told her that talking to this particular tom, based on appearances alone, didn't run her that particular risk.
"Gotta problem? I'm sure we could fix it," she meowed, her whiskers twitching slightly. Honestly, she didn't know how else to react, other than playing the cool villain who fears no god but herself, or at least her own rendition of that. After all, how would she explain that she was hiding in the shadows simply because she was bored with punishment and had a faint yearning to once again put her brain to work? Punishment was great if you were a bonehead or a sadist, but she was neither. She had just needed to make sure she wasn't in a position where she interacted with others, lest she get noticed.
honestly it's such a 2020 mood for me. i work with an actual 14 year old and yesterday he asked me how old i was and when i said 21 he lost his damn mind and now i definitely vibe that much harder with it
also you did better than me who knows what rp etiquite is anymore. give me a couple more tries and i'll get with it probably LOL
Petrichor feigned disgust at the mention of biting, shaking the idea from his head. He took a couple steps forward before sitting and wrapping his tail around him pleasantly. It made for an odd visual - how neatly he tucked into himself. He tossed his head back and forth impatiently as she finished, flexing his claws into the dirt beneath his paws. "Biting isn't my thing, and besides, this is big talk from some shadows. Why don't you come out and have some manners. We're militarized these days-- it means we have to be civilized." The words came smooth in a slower drawl, the kind that hinted at a laid-back confidence that fit him more comfortably than the fact that sometimes his brain just needed more time to make his mouth do the words thing. He was more used to giving snappy replies than receiving them.
It was true, his brain wasn't always his friend; unless of course, it involved hunting, gathering information, or shooting the breeze. He was a jack of few trades, and unfortunately, a cat of many words. Unless of course, you wanted to put together a kitty football league. He'd probably be pretty good at that. But for all the smarts he wished he had, he also wished his brain had the ability to slow down and shut up sometimes. Especially on days like today, when others were sunning or strolling around the yard, and he had just about paced a moat around their territory to try to hold onto his sanity.
"I certainly can't place you, but you don't smell like you don't belong here..." He let the thought hang in the air, meeting her expectant gaze with his own, although it had softened; less confrontational, and more curious.
incredible. i really feel that, although the idea of working with a 14 year old (are you tutoring?) is honestly confusing and offensive to me at this particular moment. but thats probably only because two weeks ago i was overseeing a group that was divided half into a water regurgitating contest, and half into an entire production to tie a kid to a tree with friendship bracelet string.
no idea, these are just words in an order that kind of makes sense sort of. i think i figured out how you made yours look so nice and tidy though. ill take that as a win.
She closed her eyes very slowly, as if she was considering whether or not to make herself better known. Of course, there really was no harm in stepping out. She wasn't an intruder, and his gaze was softer than it had been before. Yet, there was a part of her that wanted to linger in the shadows just a second more. Perhaps this was a learned behavior; at one point, she had spent most of her young and adult lives shifting through shadows. The ones that belonged to the city, though, were harsher than the shadows that had once surrounded her in the forest. The shadows in the dense woods were longer, thicker, the underbrush the perfect place to hide. She hadn't quite adapted to the city yet, and the unique darkness it brought. Sometimes, she longed to go back to the forest, feel the soft earth under her paws. It would be better than the rough concrete, at least.
"I suppose I'll humor you," she murmured as she finally stepped out completely. She looked away for the briefest of moments, almost as if she was distracted from the job at hand, before her gaze flitted back to the tom. Her tail tip twitched innocently, but there was something about the look in her eyes that was ... off, but in a way that was hard to explain. Perhaps it was the reflection of all of the things she had seen in her days, perhaps it was just the way her gaze glinted, it was hard to tell.
"You can't place me because we don't escape the brig very often. Innocentia's got us on a ball and chain, sometimes literally," she meowed with a roll of her eyes. It was dirty work, and the smell in the torture chambers was enough to make a cat sick, and her boss was a cannibal, so it was all around not the best place. She chuckled slightly, before tilting her head to the side, almost as if in a question. "You can call me Sev."
unfortunately not tutoring. get this, i work at a smash room, where people spend money to break objects LOL. but yeah, that sounds a bout right.
lmao catch me forgetting theyre in the city and not the forest anymore and having to retroactivey write my first
Petrichor seemed to react instantly - the moment the she-cat moved into the light. He wasn't sure why. Maybe it was sub-conscious fear of the unknown, despite the fact that it had been quite some time since he had met a cat that matched his size. His eyes moved with her as she settled in, wondering how on Earth it was that he still didn't recognize her. He had made it his entire life's work to know cats he had never met that felt as though they lived worlds away, and yet, the cats who lived next door were a mystery to him. The tom knew that they worked in blood, and that was enough for him to steer clear. Thankfully, he had become pretty good at overpowering his opponents, and that kept his paws pretty clean. Especially considering that his conflicts didn't often go farther than that. That was the funny thing about being inconveniently large. No one wanted to fight you. For all many of them knew, he could've fought like an ambitious muskrat.
"It's nice to meet you, Sev. Petrichor, at your service. I'd shake your paw, but now I know exactly where that's been. I hear the torture caves are lovely this time of the moon cycle. I imagine it makes for a pleasant afternoon stroll. Especially if Innocentia is around. Chains are really in right now, anyway." He had a certain smoothness to his voice to compliment his sarcasm. The tomcat settled into a perched position, getting himself comfortable. "I can't imagine what would bring you out here, to be quite honest..." He trailed off, his gaze wandering back over his shoulder, to the general population of cats behind him who all seemed content in their quiet afternoon. "Nothing too terribly interesting going on here today. Honestly? I was hoping the kits would find another mouse to chase around the sunning rocks. You'd love to see how quickly our napping hunters become indignant at inconvenience." He paused for a moment, chuckling as he drew his attention back to her. "It's pretty different from our reputation."
shut up that is so cool. Is it as cool as it sounds? do you get a lot of drunken idiots?
these hoes are in a CITY? I don't know anything.
i honestly dont i am so over a bbcode. i want to be a CAVEMAN in PEACE.
