Oh boy! Clementine was super hyped. Not only was she starting to feel more comfortable in the Clan- and less sick in general, at least for the time being- she had been put in charge of something super, super, important!
Weekly tasks!
It was going to be great, she just knew it! Helping people find something to occupy their time with (or annoy them) was one of Clementine's greatest specialties. But now she stood as tall as the sickly, miniature serval could to try and see over the crowd in the camp square, taking in a deep breath as she tried to call out as loud as her wheezy voice could manage. "C-come talk to me if you want a Weekly Task! I'll pick something really fun for you to do!"
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[glow=gray,2,200]Talk about a bird learning how to fly[/glow]
Buckingham wished he knew Pierce and Clementine more, Bucky often heard his co-worker talk about his daughter. Clementine sounded like a wonderful child, and from his understanding, they didn't see her around a lot due to her sickly nature. Though in the past few days, the maine coon has noticed the miniature serval out and about in the clan- who he learned was Clementine. He wondered if her health was increasing, it's probably a good sign that she's around the clan more. The maine coon was just padding back into the sea village, recently returning from a patrol. His ears pricked up at the voice, which wasn't as loud, but thanks to his enhanced senses, it made it easier for him to catch it. With a flick of his tail, the male headed over, eyes landing on Clementine.
Bucky and Clementine didn't know each other. Perhaps she heard of his name around camp just like he heard hers. He wondered what kind of task she'd give him, especially when she doesn't know what he's like. That will make it the most interesting. "I'll take a task."
[glow=white,2,300]show no mercy, for you shall receive none[/glow]
☀ —'cause i love you's not enough, i'm lost for words
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Pierce was immensely proud of his little girl. Or, maybe he couldn't really call her "little" anymore. She was six months old now, as old as Pierce had been when he was promoted to the head of an entire subgroup of ranks in his first clan. The pale-furred serval was just a month shy of Pierce's age when he had been captured by an enemy for the first time, tortured, nearly stabbed to death. He had hardly made it out alive, and mentally, he had been fucked for life. Maybe that was a contributor to his terrible protectiveness over the sickly femme, illness and dead family aside.
Regardless of whether she was "little" or not anymore, she'd been doing incredibly well around Sunhaven as of late, and Pierce couldn't wait to see her grow up into a strong, dependable member of the clan. He just hoped she wouldn't have to endure all the terrible things he had- so far so good, though.
The Goldenblood approached shortly after Bucky, offering his coworker a half-smile as he turned his gaze from the Maine coon to his daughter, features brightening. "May I have one, too, Clem?" he requested, tilting his head slightly to the side as he eased himself to the ground, tail curling around his paws.
"speech"
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baby when you sleep, do you dream of me? (✧・゚: * ━━━━━━━━━ pierce / the ascendants / tags / plot)
Oh hey, it was Pierce's kid again! What was her name? Clementine? Yeah, that was it. Smiling, the collie knew that she could really use something to keep her mind off of things, so she bounded up to receive a task. "Hey, can I have one?" Bex asked as she gleamed at the little serval, wondering what sort of task she would end up giving her. Bex wasn't picky, and was sure she'd be fine with whatever she was assigned to do. As long as it wasn't boring, but it was a kid whom was giving out the tasks, so certainly it wouldn't turn out to be something boring.
[align=center][div style="font-size:25pt;line-height:.9;color:black;font-family:impact;padding:8px;letter-spacing:1.2px; text-shadow: 0px 1px 0px black; margin-top: 0px"]「 I'M A REBEL JUST FOR KICKS 」[div style="font-size:8pt;line-height:1.2;color:#000;font-family:arial;margin-top:2px;margin-bottom:5px;letter-spacing:0px;margin-left:0px;text-align:center"]—————————————————LET ME KICK IT LIKE IT'S 1986! | TAGS
"Dittoing everyone here little lass. Give me ya best shot." The large canine spoke with ease as she came forward with a wicked smile upon her muzzle. Weekly tasks were fun and she never had and issue with doing them before. They were a stable she supposed in every group now a days and she allowed her gaze to travel over the ones that had already came forward seeking a task. With a huff the leader sat down on her rump before she curled her tail against her body, eyes shifting back to look at little Clementine. Even though she was sickly she was doing her best and she hoped that maybe the new Solbinder could potentially help her with that but for now there was only one way to go and so now it came to the waiting game.
"SPEECH"
Lots of people were already gathering, and for a moment Clementine had cold paws. What if she gave someone a task they really, really hated? Uh-oh, that wouldn't be good! And they'd probably be really mad! Clearing her throat faintly, Clemetine's gaze flicked from Bucky, her father, Bex, and Monroe for a few moments. Slowly finding her courage, or perhaps lingering in thought, she took in a deep breath. "Okay, uhm... Mister metal-arm-I-don't-know-your-name-..." Another pause, considering. He looked strong, and maybe a little scary, so she had to think he wouldn't like paintings or anything like that. "You look smart. Maybe you could like... Oh! I know! I know it's not quite the Halloween-y thing-y yet but I want you to put together a haunted house! Make it scary! O-or not..." It would at least make use, hopefully, of some of Bucky's strengths. ( [member=1917]BUCKINGHAM B.[/member] )
Next, her gaze turned to her father, smiling meekly for a moment as she considered. Her father did a lot of art things, so she wanted to try and give him something different. "Okay, daddy, uhm!" She paused for a moment, a mischievous grin quickly spreading across her face. "I want you to make me cookies!" She let that sink in for a moment, then shook her head. "Okay... Your real task is to... Host a poetry night! Yeah! Or... Riddles or somethin'. Get people involved and make decorations, be together, that sort of thing!" ( [member=124]pierce[/member] )
Next but not least, the nice lady Bex! Her gaze turned and she straightened up, tilting her head for a moment as she considered. "Hi! I know exactly what I want you to do! I want you to host a camp-out night. Like... Campfires, marshmallows, hot chocolate... Mhm! You could do something else with it too, I guess.. Like truth or dare or somethin'. I'll let you figure it out!" ( [member=1181]REBECCA MACK[/member] )
Lastly, Monroe. Her gaze turned her to her leader for a moment as she paused, her gaze freezing on her wicked smile and her huff as she sat herself down. Clementine hesitated as her gaze rested on her- what sort of task did she even give for her? "Uhm..." she began softly, considering rather carefully. "Oh! Maybe you could do pumpkin carving? We could have a little contest or something!" Hey, not bad, Clem! That wasn't so bad! Right? Her paws were sort of shaking, but she got through it! ( [member=1806]MARINA M.[/member] )
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[glow=gray,2,200]Talk about a bird learning how to fly[/glow]
For a self-proclaimed optimist, Wendell was quite mad at himself. Alcohol had gotten the better of him again (and the wolverine had sworn that such a thing would never happen), and by the sounds of it, he had missed quite the show. NPC smalltalk he had eavesdropped on explained that Monroe was now Marina, and that’s because the leader had died and... damn, he was a horrible hearthkeeper. Perhaps the most he had for a job in that position was greeting newcomers, and the Brit failed even at that. These facts urged him to drink it all away; and that is where the conundrum transpires.
You have perhaps a hundred flagons of drink that you don’t want to abuse, yet you drink excessively when the slightest problems knocked on your door, yet causing you to drink more once you realize that hitting the bottle creates new issues - it was an endless loop of madness that desperately needed to meet its demise.
At least it was all done in the comfort of his home. He had hoped.
At the call of weekly tasks, he had practically leapt off his appendages to the crier. It was a chance, a chance to prove he wasn’t a downright flop. "Coulja spare me one, kiddo?" Wendell’d inquire, his question a tad skeptical as it came after everyone else’s.
Seeing this kid again made a small smile form on Ymir's muzzle. The she-wolf would pad over at the beckoning, intrigued by the term 'weekly tasks.' She had never heard of such a thing, but it sounded interesting enough. She had run out of things to do around Sunhaven, anyways. "Hit me up." is all she barks as she sits down. Her tone is light-hearted, waiting to see what she would be given. "speech"
All of the tasks that Clementine had come up with actually sounded really fun, some of them even being Halloween-themed, which was cool. When hearing the kid speak to her, Bex pricked her ears and smiled, happy with the task that she had been given. A camp-out night actually sounded really fun! Especially the part about hot chocolate, and other warm treats. "Alright, one camp-out coming right up," she woofed before turning to leave, already trying to think of ideas for the event.
[align=center][div style="font-size:25pt;line-height:.9;color:black;font-family:impact;padding:8px;letter-spacing:1.2px; text-shadow: 0px 1px 0px black; margin-top: 0px"]「 I'M A REBEL JUST FOR KICKS 」[div style="font-size:8pt;line-height:1.2;color:#000;font-family:arial;margin-top:2px;margin-bottom:5px;letter-spacing:0px;margin-left:0px;text-align:center"]—————————————————LET ME KICK IT LIKE IT'S 1986! | TAGS