EVERY LINE SUCKS - open; sage tryout

[rhosmari]

"Oh, no, nononono...." Her small voice whispered out as she tried desperately to salvage the items she had spent most of the evening attempting to gather up together. Frankly the little child knew nothing about herbal remedies or anything that had to do with medicine but the few memories she had showed her that at one point she'd watched someone fiddle with the plants and make things better. So when the big cat called out about sage stuff she as highly excited. Maybe too excited for when she went racing off her small form was already beginning to smoke and she hadn't even realized how hot her body had gotten. So when she had went off to go and find something she could use she had been at a pretty high temperature. Her small body moved through the underbrush, causing plants and vines to curl and turn black from the mere contact of her body. Now she was just standing there, brushing the once golden orange and yellow pelts towards herself, quivering form looking around and trying to see if she could at least use them still. She could right? It wouldn't cause any harm and she swiftly started to call out so that the plants didn't die and she really couldn't use them.

"Ah, ah! Can someone come here?! Can I put this on your boo boos!?" Her voice was a desperate wail that she tried to not make too high but she had little choice in the matter. Her plants were dying and she removed her paw from one petal to find that it had crumbled and turned into a smear of blackened ash against the ground and on her glowing paw pad. No, this wasn't working out right and she looked up to some approaching pirates with nervousness in her gaze. If she already touched what was mostly withered petals they'd just burn up more and then she'd never get to do her tryout right. A frown pulled at her muzzle, heated drool leaking out from the open side of her muzzle before she lifted a paw to attempt to wipe it away. At this point she was a bit defeated but she still wanted to give it a shot and see if she could do it right. All she needed to do was mix these plants up and then smear it on some boo boos and voila she was done! So she had to do it right and make sure that she didn't burn up the rest of them too badly.

[div style="text-align: right; text-transform: uppercase; text-shadow: 0px 0px 2px #77ceee; font-size: 24px;"]— TECHNO ♛

#psychosocial.

[Grey]

Time is like threads. It takes any shape, fluid like water, dynamic and mosaic. Sometimes the strings unravel and recoil, they intertwine and mix, or pull away and become lost. Other times, the threads are solid and fixed. They do not move. They are ropes and shackles, chaining creatures to their fortunes. Snakelike, time slithers. It can be completely unseen, plotting a million endings, up in the air, before diving to the earth's surface. It explodes, shaking the ground with tremors. The soil, disturbed, returns to its docile slumber. Time doesn't seem to follow a set road. It's erratic, it shifts gears, it stops and it starts. Moments can take weeks, weeks can take seconds. Time doesn't seem to follow a timeline. It does as it pleases. Unknown beings continue to sow their lives away, watering and planting their seeds, kissing them either good bye or hello. Bakugou feels as if he is sitting at the edge of the world, watching the landscape span to elsewhere, painted in a sea of green and blue. He sees the beginning of something, a new era. The cogs are turning, shifting and clanking. He can hear the mechanical clicks of typing - time is deciding what will occur, what will become anew.

Once upon a time, the black mambas of The Typhoon were flourishing. There were so many of them. He thought it to be ridiculous but as days went by, their numbers began to thin. It all felt like deja vu when Captain Pincher made the announcement for sages. He hadn't been there when the tryouts had been announced last time but it felt as if he had been there too, about to see a repeat of the black mambas. They will rise form the flames, phoenixes with downy, new feathers. He feels almost nostalgic seeing all these tryouts about, but one thing that puts his emotions to rest was seeing the pitiful attempts of Technopaw. He could see the way smoke surrounded her body, flying with the wind like a cape. Energetic. He feels almost tired just seeing her, the currents that fired in her neurons. His nose twitches, keeping his distance because he didn't want to be harassed by the catsune, not wishing to be the unwilling victim. He was, however, harbouring a few scraps and scratches along his side. If she so much as locked eyes on the scarlet on his cream fur, she would see her chance. Bakugou, however, was unaware he even had cuts on him in the first place. He was used to it.