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+---- Thread: IMPOSSIBLE YEAR | intro + m&g (/showthread.php?tid=4819)
IMPOSSIBLE YEAR | intro + m&g - PIERCE - 08-08-2018
[div style="margin-top: 30px; text-align: center; font-family: timesnewroman; font-size: 35px; color: white;"]pierce parker
☀ — just two ghosts standing in the place of you and me
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Re: IMPOSSIBLE YEAR | intro + m&g - Mama - 08-08-2018
[align=center][div style="width: 470px; font-size:9pt; font-family:calibri; text-align: justify;line-height: 110%; color:black"]She knew well the feeling of leaving behind a home, of finding remnants of a place one loved within the new, a chance of scenery was never quite enough no matter how far one moved, pushing to escape the past.
It had not been the faint wisp of a friend, familiar yet different for death changes much, which had driven her to leave behind what she had known, yet it held no shortage of complexities of its own, touched by the supernatural in a way of its own. Still she remember her last conversation with those she had thought of as family, cast across a wide space for neither dared stay close for fear of what they might do, never wishing to see blood upon the sand no matter the bitterness which widened the rift between them. There had been nothing pleasant within those words touched by the heat of anger drawn from a place she was sure they thought good, yet the scars such words left, it is hard to forgive when all you have left to remember someone by is the marks.
You are not our child. The words rang through her thoughts once more, the last she had heard from her father as he had turned from her, leaving her there to wander the tents once more, already plastering on a false smile, pretending all was right. She had looked upon her mother in those moments, saw how her eyes were filled with tears and her lips trembled, seeking to speak but afraid of what he might do if she dared. And then there was her son. He had been so small, crying out for her yet there was nothing either could do for there was no blood there, nothing which bound them, and she had thought him better off in the care of her mother.
How wrong had she been. That night she had felt the flames, watched as her life had crumbled and was torn apart by creatures she could barely keep track of, driven to kill by their want for blood, the screams filling her head, yet all she could do was watch as they died around her. Every night she relived those final moments, watched as her son was torn apart, pleading with her to make it stop, but she seemed stone, rooted to the spot, unable, or was it unwilling, to move.
A month, filled with gruelling travel and attempts to push aside the false memory – she had saved him, had seen her child off but still her mind screamed at her, spoke of the death she had sent him to – seeking shelter only to find this place. Surprise had touched her in those first moments before it swelled, becoming something akin to a childish glee as she looked upon this tiny jewel nestled within the ocean, bobbing gently by a beach. It was like nothing she had ever seen before and had come to enjoy a great deal, pushing herself to be something here, to do more than she had within a home she had been unwelcome in the end, yet thoughts of her son never truly left her.
Slowly the albino mountain lion moved across the boards, progress slowed both by her missing limb and the mere fact she wanted to simply relax with this walk, allowing her thoughts to turn back to those days when she had known only sand and heat, some part of her longing for the desert once more. She loved this place, readily called it home, but it was different from her place of birth to a point her heart ached, longing for a time which seemed simple when looked back upon. Surprise touched Ishayu only briefly, eyes widening a small fraction and a soft hum rising from pursed lips, before it faded, a soft smile lacing her lips as she looked upon the serval.
A stranger to her, yet such was unsurprising for she had yet to meet a good number of those present here, Ishayu seemed to feel no trepidation and approached slowly, being sure her steps made noise so as to not startle him, though doing her best to make sure it did not disturb his concentration all that much. Moving to stand a little closer she cast her attention towards the piece he was working on, watching for a time as he worked. It was rather well done and took the shape of the fountain very well, the small details lacking though his careful paw seemed to be filling in those spaces until it seemed a rather well done replica of what sat before them. For a time she wondered upon asking him to teach her some, though she held some artistic abilities of her own it was within shaping over drawing, her paw not quite steady enough for such work, such all too apparent in the various scribbled plans which she had stashed within the upper floor of her home.
“You are very good,” leaning a little closer Ishayu spoke lightly and offered Pierce that gentle smile, pushing aside her previous thoughts for the moment. There would be time enough for that, for the moment she merely enjoyed watching him work, curious as to what more he would do having yet to spot the paints.
[ last three paragraphs are the only important things, i kinda went a little overboard & welcome to the sunfam and don't worry at all, i mean mine is a mess as well cause i'm tired but wanted to get something up, i really hope you enjoy your time here with us and i look forward to seeing pierce, i already like him ]
Re: IMPOSSIBLE YEAR | intro + m&g - jericho - 08-09-2018
/welcome my dude!! and PLEASE ur post is actually great
but grimm can u please slide me some muse some of us are starving over here smh
Home is a loaded word for Jericho. For such a long time it was the lighthouse, the island chain he held so near and dear to his heart, but after he left he came back to a place he no longer recognized. Even after moving to the beach village he struggled to reconcile abandoning the place and all its people he knew so well with the fact that he could never return. How can you long for something that no longer exists? And how to you stop? It had taken a long time for him to even begin calling his new clan home and let go of the past, yet eventually that fell apart too. Something happened, something changed, and the little tabby knew he didn't belong anymore. It wasn't the same. Sunhaven came next, and it's still new to him, but he's scared that the past will repeat itself. That one day he'll wake up and go to his garden just as he always does, and he'll pad back into town and it'll be like the earth around him has shifted and nothing will be as it was. Jericho tries not to think about that — for now at least, this group feels right. Discovering the floating seatown was like a homecoming to a place he's never been; it just clicked, and he's let go of that lingering guilt that once made him feel like anywhere besides his birthplace was a betrayal to those he once knew. It's a fresh start somewhere that his heart seems to have known for centuries. He thinks that maybe (just maybe) it's where he'll stay til his days are done.
The ginger feline is padding through camp after having checked on his plants in the greenhouse, thinking he might open his shop for a little while. He hobbles through the town square, his gait delicate upon the wooden planks despite his three-legged lopsidedness. While passing through his pricked ears pick up Mama's words, a mere murmur from his distance, and Jericho halts. His attention has been caught; curious, the Helion carries himself towards the large wildcat, only as he approaches picking up Pierce's scent as well. By the time he nears he's aware that the latter is unfamiliar, and his honey gaze naturally flicker towards him as his attention blindly seeks out the serval. All Jericho knows is the gentle sounds of brushstrokes and the vague scent of watered-down paint. "Are you... ah, p-painting?" the tomcat inquires gently. He pauses for a moment after, before offering a sheepish smile. They haven't met, have they? Jericho thinks it rather embarrasing, considering he's leader. There's a faint red glow beneath the male's cheeks as he adds, "Um — sorry, I don't... th-think we've met. I'm Jericho."
but grimm can u please slide me some muse some of us are starving over here smh
Home is a loaded word for Jericho. For such a long time it was the lighthouse, the island chain he held so near and dear to his heart, but after he left he came back to a place he no longer recognized. Even after moving to the beach village he struggled to reconcile abandoning the place and all its people he knew so well with the fact that he could never return. How can you long for something that no longer exists? And how to you stop? It had taken a long time for him to even begin calling his new clan home and let go of the past, yet eventually that fell apart too. Something happened, something changed, and the little tabby knew he didn't belong anymore. It wasn't the same. Sunhaven came next, and it's still new to him, but he's scared that the past will repeat itself. That one day he'll wake up and go to his garden just as he always does, and he'll pad back into town and it'll be like the earth around him has shifted and nothing will be as it was. Jericho tries not to think about that — for now at least, this group feels right. Discovering the floating seatown was like a homecoming to a place he's never been; it just clicked, and he's let go of that lingering guilt that once made him feel like anywhere besides his birthplace was a betrayal to those he once knew. It's a fresh start somewhere that his heart seems to have known for centuries. He thinks that maybe (just maybe) it's where he'll stay til his days are done.
The ginger feline is padding through camp after having checked on his plants in the greenhouse, thinking he might open his shop for a little while. He hobbles through the town square, his gait delicate upon the wooden planks despite his three-legged lopsidedness. While passing through his pricked ears pick up Mama's words, a mere murmur from his distance, and Jericho halts. His attention has been caught; curious, the Helion carries himself towards the large wildcat, only as he approaches picking up Pierce's scent as well. By the time he nears he's aware that the latter is unfamiliar, and his honey gaze naturally flicker towards him as his attention blindly seeks out the serval. All Jericho knows is the gentle sounds of brushstrokes and the vague scent of watered-down paint. "Are you... ah, p-painting?" the tomcat inquires gently. He pauses for a moment after, before offering a sheepish smile. They haven't met, have they? Jericho thinks it rather embarrasing, considering he's leader. There's a faint red glow beneath the male's cheeks as he adds, "Um — sorry, I don't... th-think we've met. I'm Jericho."
Re: IMPOSSIBLE YEAR | intro + m&g - PIERCE - 08-10-2018
[div style="margin-top: 30px; text-align: center; font-family: timesnewroman; font-size: 35px; color: white;"]pierce parker
☀ — just two ghosts standing in the place of you and me
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Pierce couldn't help but tense ever so slightly at the sound of approaching pawsteps, his reaction no more than instinct after- well, after everything. Years could pass, and his past would still come back to haunt him, even in the smallest of ways, such as his wariness of strangers. He hadn't always been this way, far from it- back when he was young he had been trusting, so, so trusting, to the point that he had gotten himself hurt. Again and again, it had happened, each time chipping away at his naivety and his trust in others a little more. Even still, he looked for the best in everyone he met, even if he wasn't completely open to trusting them with himself, or with most other things.
As the pawsteps continued to near, not veering off in any direction, he paused, ears flicking when the unfamiliar femme finally spoke up. At her words, the serval raised his head, a warm smile finding its way to lovely freckled features as his honey gaze quickly flickered over her form, subconsciously matching her voice to her face. It was a habit he'd picked up back at his first clan, having been vice-leader and been close-to obsessed with knowing everyone's names. Could they really call themselves clanmates if they didn't even know one another's names?
He couldn't help but notice the other's missing limb, reminded of another he'd known oh, so long ago. His name was lost to Pierce's memory, but his face was still clearly visible. He was Pierce's first ever crush on someone that was actually his age, another boy that had lived in his clan at the time. They had met before the other lost his leg, and it had almost been "love" at first sight. The young tabby had been a fiery guy, quite different from Pierce at the time, but it had been something Pierce could appreciate- he was brash, yes, but honest, albeit brutally so. The other apprentice had been captured by an enemy clan, and held in their clutches until he was returned home. Pierce could still remember the absolute horror that had gripped his heart at the sight of his beloved friend bleeding from where his leg was supposed to meet his shoulder, the horror that had soon turned to fury, to hatred. They had raided that clan not long afterward, and Pierce had drawn his first true, meaningful blood, having clawed out the eye of the man that had harmed his clanmate. He had later tried to confess his feelings to the other, but had been kindly turned down. It had hurt, yeah, but he'd been just a boy at the time- it hadn't taken long to get over it. He hadn't thought of the young feline in so long. Was he even still alive? Pierce had no clue, and for a moment, his heart ached for his not-childhood sweetheart, but he shook the thought off as quickly as it came.
"Oh, you're so sweet, thank you! I try," answered Pierce, an airy laugh tumbling past his lips. "Have we met? I'm Pierce." This girl, though a stranger, seemed to have a very kind, gentle nature, something Pierce could appreciate when they lived in a world filled with such horrors. It was a feeling Pierce had always strived to give off, one that made people feel warm and safe and loved. It was what the young man truly felt within, though it was also locked up with dark feelings and memories he tried to ignore, to keep shoved aside.
The dappled tom momentarily turned his attention back to the paper, setting down his pencil in favor of the paints. It was going to be a rather pretty piece, once he was done with it, but he had a feeling it was going to take a while to find the right shade of blue to do the sky justice. Before he was able to lay another paw on the page, however, another came over, and he gently set down his paintbrush, amber optics fixing upon Jericho as he made his way toward Pierce and Ishayu. "Yeah! It's just a little hobby of mine I picked up, like, a lifetime ago- I've been doing art since I was less than five months old." A bit of an over-the-top explanation, but Pierce was pretty easily excited. He blinked large eyes up at Jeri from his little place on the boards as the other spoke, a pleasant smile on his features. "I'm Pierce- it's nice to meet you, Mister Jericho," he was quick to reply, the somewhat formal title simply an old habit of his.
"speech"
As the pawsteps continued to near, not veering off in any direction, he paused, ears flicking when the unfamiliar femme finally spoke up. At her words, the serval raised his head, a warm smile finding its way to lovely freckled features as his honey gaze quickly flickered over her form, subconsciously matching her voice to her face. It was a habit he'd picked up back at his first clan, having been vice-leader and been close-to obsessed with knowing everyone's names. Could they really call themselves clanmates if they didn't even know one another's names?
He couldn't help but notice the other's missing limb, reminded of another he'd known oh, so long ago. His name was lost to Pierce's memory, but his face was still clearly visible. He was Pierce's first ever crush on someone that was actually his age, another boy that had lived in his clan at the time. They had met before the other lost his leg, and it had almost been "love" at first sight. The young tabby had been a fiery guy, quite different from Pierce at the time, but it had been something Pierce could appreciate- he was brash, yes, but honest, albeit brutally so. The other apprentice had been captured by an enemy clan, and held in their clutches until he was returned home. Pierce could still remember the absolute horror that had gripped his heart at the sight of his beloved friend bleeding from where his leg was supposed to meet his shoulder, the horror that had soon turned to fury, to hatred. They had raided that clan not long afterward, and Pierce had drawn his first true, meaningful blood, having clawed out the eye of the man that had harmed his clanmate. He had later tried to confess his feelings to the other, but had been kindly turned down. It had hurt, yeah, but he'd been just a boy at the time- it hadn't taken long to get over it. He hadn't thought of the young feline in so long. Was he even still alive? Pierce had no clue, and for a moment, his heart ached for his not-childhood sweetheart, but he shook the thought off as quickly as it came.
"Oh, you're so sweet, thank you! I try," answered Pierce, an airy laugh tumbling past his lips. "Have we met? I'm Pierce." This girl, though a stranger, seemed to have a very kind, gentle nature, something Pierce could appreciate when they lived in a world filled with such horrors. It was a feeling Pierce had always strived to give off, one that made people feel warm and safe and loved. It was what the young man truly felt within, though it was also locked up with dark feelings and memories he tried to ignore, to keep shoved aside.
The dappled tom momentarily turned his attention back to the paper, setting down his pencil in favor of the paints. It was going to be a rather pretty piece, once he was done with it, but he had a feeling it was going to take a while to find the right shade of blue to do the sky justice. Before he was able to lay another paw on the page, however, another came over, and he gently set down his paintbrush, amber optics fixing upon Jericho as he made his way toward Pierce and Ishayu. "Yeah! It's just a little hobby of mine I picked up, like, a lifetime ago- I've been doing art since I was less than five months old." A bit of an over-the-top explanation, but Pierce was pretty easily excited. He blinked large eyes up at Jeri from his little place on the boards as the other spoke, a pleasant smile on his features. "I'm Pierce- it's nice to meet you, Mister Jericho," he was quick to reply, the somewhat formal title simply an old habit of his.
"speech"
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