arts and crafts / open

[Chevalier.]

[align=center][div style="width: 420px; font-size:10px; font-family:verdana; text-align: justify;line-height: 110%; color:black"]Everything was different and somewhat terrifying for such a fact, all the new information they were trying to process too much so soon. Yet something about the core of the group, the fundamental practices and routine of daily life as it moved about them, was familiar, pulling at their heart. Little more than a soft haze they could not recall much of the desert nor their home, only the bone white fur of their mother as they had nestled against her, the warmth of the sun as it beat upon them, the tacky juice of the oranges they so loved. Each little scene was pleasant and they kept them close to their heart but they found time had worn at them, breaks in their memory eating away at what little they had left.

One such event they could hardly recall was how they had come to find themself here. Voices and blood, pain a fire washing through them from their throat, it was all they could recall. Much of their days had passed in the Cleric's Hide for they had been instructed to rest, lucky they had not been killed, yet a child is a hard thing to keep locked away for long. With heavy bandages about their neck they felt somewhat self conscious Harland had taken to lone exploration of the observatory, wandering through dusty rooms which held no sign of previous entry for quite sometime. During this they had come to amass quite a few things and had quickly scuttled back to the Hide, treasure in tow.

Over the course of a few days they had carefully crafted a few things, a matching trio for them and two others they had come to grow somewhat attached to during their time here. It was outside the observatory the dark kitten set themself, two bundles of lavender fabric set before them. “Momo, Per...” A croaky, rasping call rose into the still air and Harland looked about for the two, hoping they had heard them.

[member=1549]MOONMADE[/member] [member=598]imperia[/member]

[Suiteheart]

SUITE
HEART

[soft baby.....]

Suiteheart had not been present at Harland's joining. Perhaps that was a good thing. The feline had joined, covered in blood. As much as she hated to admit it, Suite would've been unpredictable. In fact, she was not entirely sure what she would have done. Blood often called her towards joiners, but each time, they weren't felines. The first time someone waltzed towards the border drenched in the blood of a domestic cat, the Admiral wasn't sure she would be able to contain herself. And that scared her.

The soft, hoarse voice of Harland reached her as she made her way towards the Observatory. It sounded very young and almost pained. Moving closer, she recognized the little form of Harland. She had seem them in the Cleric's den since their joining.

"Hey," she ventured, voice easy and kind, "I don't think we've met. I'm Suiteheart." She presented a smile to the young creature.

[b]suiteheart folie-mikaelson . ecliptic admiral . the ascendants . tags

© [color=black]MADI

[MOONMADE]

[size=9pt]Moon's hovered like a .... Well, a hawk, or whatever, ever since Harland turned up at the border, a mess of crimson and tears. He'd spent hours sitting in the Den, watching quietly as the kit slept, busying himself with organizing herbs and such just to have an excuse to stay there. He felt like fucking shit for not being organized enough the day Har was injured, and it hung tight to his chest like a really fat monkey of regret.

And so, when Moon spotted the Kit out and about, he was somewhat surprised. And, like, kind of outraged. What were they doing? What if they got hurt again? What if their neck opened up again and Moon turned up with nothing on him, like now? He was all veiled anxiety and worry when he approached, simultaneously trying for a smile and frowning. "Hey, kid, whatcha' doing?" He says, not-so-subtly scanning their wound as he speaks. It doesn't seem to have burst, and the black kit isn't stained ruby red, so he forces himself to relax, for now. At least they're with Suite. "Who's Momo? You looking for the Head Honcho? I haven't seen her, either." It's not like he'd been looking, or anything. "Help a guy out, Suite? You heard any Mon dieu's or Bonjour's on your way here?"

[GABRIEL]

[align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-size: 9.4pt; line-height: 1.4;"]/that awkward moment when momo's what you call your grandma
moon is now a grandmother

"I personally didn't hear Imperia, no. Now, an idiot- I heard that a mile away." The hybrid couldn't smirk -he would've done it about a thousand times by now if he could- but his gaze glinted, before the muscles of his facial features shifted into something more neutral when his stare shifted from Moon to the child. Finding them had been...memorable, to put it lightly. Gabe still hadn't found whoever inflicted that nearly fatal wound on them, but he was certainly on guard for whoever the attacker was; he made certain his sweep of the territory took him to that location frequently, even though it was unlikely that they would return to the scene when there was no evidence to fuck with. Unfortunately. He'd have loved to use some for bait, except even then, he couldn't be certain if the attacker would return. Gabe could only keep an eye out for them while Moon and Imperia attended to the child.

They'd done well, from what he could see. The kid wasn't looking like they'd fall over -not terribly- and they had gathered bundles of some kind. Gabe assumed they were intended for the people who took care of them. How sweet. "Want me to go looking for her?" He could always accidentally give Moon a couple scratches; she'd probably come if she smelled blood and Moon's indignation.

[align=right][i]——INFO

[imperia]

[align=center][div style="width: 51%; text-align: justify; font-size: 10pt; letter-spacing: -1px; font-family: georgia;"]Fortunately for Moon and perhaps unfortunately for Gabe, there is no maiming required.

Imperia wishes that she could spend her day hovering in the cleric’s den, watching and worrying over all of her patients, especially Harland. The unfortunate reality of being a cleric for such a large clan is that she is often summoned to the outskirts of the territory to attend to injured strangers and joiners. But she knows that Moonmade will be around to keep a watchful eye on the youth. Peri is many things. Timid, dreamy, easily distracted, but she does have a keen eye. She notices things. More things than people think she does. And it is not hard to see that the lion is making a plethora of excuses to remain in Harland’s presence at all times.

She is returning from a house call to check up on a sick elder when the young she-wolf spots a large group congregating outside of the cleric den. Moon, Gabriel, Suiteheart, and little Harland. She hears her name exchanged between lips, which only piques her curiosity even more. ”Do you need me for something?” asks the creature as she approaches, soft words sweetened with a faint French accent. Silver fur, though shiny as always, is a touch disheveled from a day spent out on the field. Her usual scent of lavender and citrus is overpowered by all the herbs she has been working with throughout the day.

Fatigue casts a dark shadow upon her lovely features, but Imperia is not the sort to let a little bit of tiredness hinder her duties. People need her to heal them. And she needs to spend all of her free time learning how to forge pendants. There’s no time for extra sleep.

The elegant canine slows to a halt in between Suite and Moon, gazing down at the child which seems to have captured everyone else’s attention. ”You are looking much livelier, mon petit chou.” she says with a warm smile, lowering her head to get a better look at the wound.

[Chevalier.]

[align=center][div style="width: 230px; font-family: georgia; color: #847b89; font-size: 10px; text-align: center;line-height: 110%; padding-top:10px; padding-bottom:10px"]i know a boy who's spoken every cowards phrase

The bright golden gaze they turned towards Suiteheart was filled with a gentle warmth and a touch of excitement, lips curling into a smile. Though they had not dared to venture far from the structure just yet the few they had run into, some quite literally, had proven kind to them, offering gentle words rather than the sharp reprimands they had expected. Slowly their tail unravelled from where it had come to rest about them, moving across the ground in a way that seemed faintly like a wag, a soft squeak escaping their parted lips.

“Har!” One of the few words they were able to utter without much trouble they spoke with a surprising amount of confidence in the scratchy tone, eyes scrunching closed as their smile only grew into a grin. Their expression changed only briefly, eyes widening somewhat and the smile dropping away to form a look of surprise, before once more that smile was back, a short giggle escaping as they rose, wobbling steps bringing them towards the lion.

A tiny paw reached up to gently tap against one of Moon's legs, speaking in such a way Harland would permit no argument. “Momo.” With this knowledge imparted they peeked around the Halo only to catch sight of another face which proved familiar, yet their joy began to slip as they remembered, the hazy day of their attack rising into their mind. Harland knew well it had been by no fault of the hybrid they had come to be hurt yet it had been terrifying to feel him pressed against their throat, the event all too fresh to not do so. “Bird.” Lifting a paw they waved towards Gabe before they shuffled back to their bundles, intending to give Moon his before another came forth.

With Imperia so close they took their chance – leaning forward they made a move to press their nose against her cheek, never quite realising she was trying to look them over, merely wanting to be close to her. It was all too easy to see the love they harboured towards both medics, their careful treatment and want to help them only making it easier to see them as good, familiar though they had not known such creatures before the two.

Carefully they brought each a swath of fabric, placed at their paws so they could see them, settling back near Suiteheart. Each was a scarf made from pale lavender fabric, but it was easy to see the colour upon each. Silver thread cut through the lavender upon Imperia's to form moons of all sizes and shapes, some rather wonky and none all together round, while golden thread shaped like suns were upon Moon's, a match to one they had safely tucked away in the cleric's hide which they had done with copper thread in the shape of stars. “P-pe... Per like... purple,” they struggled to get the words out, a paint ache slowly enveloping their throat making it hard yet the child was stubborn if nothing else, pushed on until they were done. “Momo like Per.”

Innocent and sweet, nothing more meant behind the words than the mere friendship they had seen between the two, more could be seen from it all the same, their gaze shifting between the two, hoping they liked it.

the ascended — dwarf star — tags

[MOONMADE]

[size=9pt]Does Gabriel have an expiry date? When does his shit end? Will the guy ever finally kick the bucket and disintegrate into the ground for Moon to dance on his grave? His snarky comments are endless and Moon can't even complain, they're so fucking good. Moon could say, like, 'Hi,' or 'Apple' and Gabe would come up with some witty shit to make him look like a dumbass. And it just so happens that, today, Moon is feeling at the top of his game, so he stares at the hybrid with a squinted gaze while he wracks his mind for a comeback and just doesn't find one. In the end, he ends up making a face and repeating the fucker's words in a whiny voice, because he's just that much of an intellectual. "Now an idiot, I heard that a mile away. Shut your beak, Feathers."

His irritation quickly disappears, however, when he feels a paw against his leg. He turns and see's Harland looking up at him and something tightens in his chest. 'Momo.' says the kit, and realization hits the lion like a truck and he just kind of looks, jaw parted slightly. He was Momo. A nickname of his own. So far, all he'd gotten was 'twigs' and 'big guy' and Peri's once off, 'Lune'; nothing so... Nice and genuine. He feels weirdly warm."Oh." Yet again, the picture of eloquence.

That whole 'speak of the Devil' saying must go for Angels, too, because Imperia appears shortly after they mention her. She looks how he feels; tired but pushing through it, and though he sympathizes, he can't help but think the disheveled look suits her. Did he rock messy fur like she did? He fully intends to greet her, but he doesn't seem to be functioning so smoothly today so, instead, he just watches the flowers in her silver fur like a big weirdo until he hears Harland again.

And, Jesus, what the kid says-- can Moon not have any dignity today? 'And Moon likes Per.' Yeah, it's nice and all, so nice that it kind of breaks his heart a little and he makes some small dying noise, but it's also embarrassing because Imperia doesn't get it, yet, Har, she's kinda' slow so you can't just expose him like that. But then he realizes just how gullible Peri really is; she probably thinks Har mean's as a friend or a colleague or some shit, so he plays it off. Just not so well. "It's--I, I mean, he's-- He's not.... He's not wrong. You're like, you, we, I-- ... You know. Buddies." Why can't he fucking speak? Does Gabe have his talons latched in his tongue? Buddies? He clamps his jaws shut and looks back to the strips of fabric. Now that he actually sees them; there's something really beautiful about them. Like they're something he'll keep with him for years. His voice is soft when he speaks. [b]"Thanks, kiddo. For the gift and for the exposure. I'll get you one in return. Maybe that scumbag's head on a stick, or something. Would look nice in the Medic's Pen, I think."[/b]

[imperia]

[align=center][div style="width: 51%; text-align: justify; font-size: 10pt; letter-spacing: -1px; font-family: georgia;"]Touching is...unfamiliar. For the longest time, touching was a bad thing. It meant pain, aching bones, and painful breaths. Before the cancer became too severe, Imperia would sleep back to back with her mother, but only occasionally. Only when Pierre was gone hunting. Aside from having to patch up wounds or conduct wellness checks, she tends to avoid situations that would put her into contact with others. Moon has nudged her a couple times. It was shocking at first, but now she is accustomed to it. In the Ascendants, some people are friendly enough to openly touch and grab. It no longer frightens her, but Peri must admit that it feels strange. Strange...yet nice. Comforting. Warm. It's different than how it was back in her natal pack. And Harland only affirms this realization when the child leans forward and touches their nose to her cheek. Har's aura is a soft, warm pink. It is one of the few reasons why Imperia is able to resist the innate urge to duck away from the contact.

A shy, nigh bashful smile tugs at the edges of black lips as the elegant creature slowly straightens, gazing wide-eyed at the child before her. Peri is pleased; that much is crystal clear. Surprised, but happy all the same. In fact, she is practically buzzing with joy when Harland begins to distribute the gifts.

“P-pe... Per like... purple,” says the child.

Imperia melts, her heart overwhelmed with all the love and warmth she feels when Har gives her an embroidered square of delicate purple fabric. It is not the work of a master by any means, but Peri could not care less about technical skill. The fact that Harland felt so strongly towards Imperia and Moonmade that he was compelled to thank them with gifts touches her to the core. "M-merci beaucoup, mon petit canard," she manages, voice thick with emotion. No one has ever done something like this for her before. Not ever. The she-wolf always gives and gives with no intention of receiving anything in return. Peri is so emotional that she nearly misses Harland's final comment.

“Momo like Per.”

Instantly, a surge of heat rushes towards her cheeks. Imperia is positive that anyone who could see auras would know just how flustered she truly is. But aside from an awkward smile, the girl manages to keep it together. She peeks at him from the corner of her eye, as if eager to see his reaction. In her head, she denies the assumptions her brain automatically makes about the statement. There is no way Moon can like her like that, right? He is so fun and witty and there is no way he could like someone as boring as her. If so, then why is she so disappointed when he denies it too? Ouch. For a moment, she frowns. It is soon replaced by her usual pleasant expression, though, and Peri redirects her attention to Harland. "Yes, thank you so much for the gift. I will treasure it forever." In a rare moment of courage, she leans down and rasps her tongue along the top of his head much like a mother would to her pup. Just to return their gesture from earlier.

After that, however, the she-wolf is back to business. "I know you are healing well, but no more talking until the wound has fully closed." She can tell that speaking is painful for the child, and though she is touched, she cannot allow herself to turn a blind eye to their pain. And maybe she is also trying to forget about what Moon said.