ORIGINAL FLAVOR ) OPEN, VISITING

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    [fancypost bgcolor=; bordercolor=transparent; color:; font-size: 8.5pt; text-align: justify; overflow: auto; width: 500px;]Well, unlike the title suggested, she wasn't nessecarily here to visit. She hadn't been at first. She was actually just coming here to give Blizzardclan some gifts. No she wasn't the ambassador for Blizzardclan and she was not representing Hawkclan but she was just giving gifts because they were allies and really? She had heard things of floating islands and being a girl who adores heights and her clan is literally situated in treehouses, she knows she has to check it out. With a swinging tail, the dark grey tabby pads through the undergrowth. She is safe in the knowledge that if things go wrong, she can call her pet griffin or she can use her small black dagger. Well, not safe. But alright. Blizzardclan wouldn't hurt her unless they wanted to permanently jeopardize the alliance and start a war or something. She was coming close to the territory, she could hear it, smell it, feel it. Her golden eyes were becoming wider as she noticed the massive shapes in the sky and she basically burst out the undergrowth and came to a stop at a massive marble staircase, peering up at the floating islands with complete awe in her gaze. "Holy macaroni." She breathed, her tail twitching and she forgot about being self conscious over her extremely prominent crooked jaw or the fact there were two white bandages that wrapped around both front wrists, a pretty clear indication as to what went down recently. Instead she was so wrapped up in staring at the islands that she forgot about her physical disfigurement which normally freaked her out a little before seeing new people.


    In her alabaster paws, although now settled on the ground, was a woven basket with candies. All candies, that was it. From sugar mice, to sherbet to mints to jelly snakes to fruit bursts to lollipops. She had collected it all for over a week and knew immediately which clan she was gonna give it to. The small girl licked her lips, not tearing her eyes away from the massive islands as she tried to bring up her loud voice. "Yo! I'm Littlekit, a Hawkclanner! Here with some gifts, I guess? And here to visit some cool peeps of course."


    [hr]

    information && updated: 11/04

    [fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px; width: 450px; line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; font-size: 8pt;]Littlekit...


    It was... Littlekit. He couldn't even remember why he had been padding around the borders, because he saw her. His daughter. He only felt his heart lurch a little as he remembered what she had said. Questioning where he was when she had been tortured. She hadn't been forgotten, though it may seem. She lost first Rick, then Circusclown turned his back on her also. She had been an accident, something made from two sad and drunken men doing things they shouldn't have. But that didn't make Circusclown love her any less, feeling guilty and disappointed. He had been a failure. No matter how many times he tried, he couldn't be a good father. He tried, he really did. He worked as hard as he could, putting everything into it that he could.


    In the end, he was someone who loved family but failed to deal with the pressure it came with. He hadn't known what to do, so he only watched her. In pain. Crying. Needing him to help her, needing him to be her parent. And he hadn't done anything. It was because he didn't want to end up being driven away from the rest of his family. Perhaps if he were to show himself, she would love him. Maybe right now, she was all he would have. All of his family was in The Exiles and they hated him. But maybe he could just feel the sweet embrace of a child again, and to be happy again. He wanted to feel a smile on his lips for more then a minute, he didn't want to be alone. He wanted to see her smile and watch her grow. She was right now all he could probably go to. But maybe she would drive him off, and that could be understood. In her situation, he was actually a traitor. He had turned his back on her for those who never really loved him in the first place.


    He seemed to have been staring for a good amount of time, heart thumping fast. He found himself blinking away the liquid that began to glaze over his eyes, and a loud sniff came from behind his mask as he took closer steps to her. He didn't know what sort of feeling he felt right now, seeing her. Hopelessness... Sadness... Joy, maybe? Or maybe that was the thought that maybe it would be okay. He really felt emotional. After everything stacking up, this made his teeth grind together trying to remain straight and seeming sturdy. He had never been stable or good at hiding his feelings, but damn it he needed to try. He needed to talk to her right this minute, tell her who he was. But not in public... There seemed to be something urging him to show her who he was. If Blizzardclan got mad, they could piss off. For all he cared he'd join Hawkclan, he needed to know how she felt about him. "Littlekit..." He'd croak out, swallowing down a lump in his throst as he'd slowly pull away his mask, and pulled off his bandages, only stopping to stare and look. Confused, unsure of what to say. "I'm... I'm sorry." He struggled to communicate. He wanted to scoop her up and hug her, but he didn't know if she was angry at him. He wanted to hear everything, what she's been doing and if she's okay.


    //THIS IS LAME BUT IM ABOUT TO GO TO BED FORGIVE ME.. MY NEXT POST WILL BE BETTER BUT SO EXCITED AAA

    TAGS 11/16

    The post was edited 1 time, last by BREADSTICK ().

    [align=center][fancypost borderwidth=0;color:#B6D8C0;font-size:20pt;letter-spacing:-2px][font=georgia]A TINCTURE OF MEMORIES[/fancypost][fancypost borderwidth=0; width: 330px; color:#ECDBBC;font-size:8pt;margin-top:-9px;letter-spacing: 0px; line-height: 98%;][font=arial][justify]Many things were occurring at once, seemingly. Breadstick unveiled his guise, unwinding his bandages, whilst Tama's ashen orbs gradually shifted towards Littlekit. Littlekit.. She had known someone, whom had once gone by a similar name, though perhaps the prefix was fairly common. Either way, such was besides the point. Instead, the subliminal acknowledgement of the bandages binding their wrists, and the crooked angle at which their jaw sat, happened to draw slight worry to bud in her chest: because something had happened recently, and Tama could see that, very well.


    A part of her figured that it would be a bad time, as of now, to interject between the interaction between the two silhouettes. Though, her leaden orbs would wander briefly between the two, eventually settling on Littlekit, as she'd proceed to offer the Hawkclanner a small nod. She'd wait until she, and Circ, sussed out what they needed to, first. The servaline believed that.. things would become complicated: that something had happened, to draw an apology from the male, and to bring him to unravel his false identity. Tama determined that she'd refrain from interuppting, withdrawing a momentary breath, as if almost anxious to hear of what the child's response would be: whether they would accept the apology, or whether they would reject it, completely. Tama, technically, was no more than an onlooker.. But seeing the apologetic expression embellishing Breadstick, or Circusclown's, features - she noted the worry coiling around her throat.


    TAGS 14/11/2016

    [fancypost bgcolor=; bordercolor=transparent; color:; font-size: 8.5pt; text-align: justify; overflow: auto; width: 500px;]IT'S OKAY ;33 I'M LITERALLY SO EXCITED / squeal


    Some situations could be the same thing but obtain different reactions from her. It depended on the person, she supposed. For example, when Whitepaw came to Hawkclan to apologize to her for walking away when she needed it most, when she had been being beaten up by the paws of Blindfold, she had spoken words she never thought she could to him. She remembered that strong sadness coiling around her neck like a noose and she remembered watching his eyes so pained, reflecting her own. He was a ghost of who she might've become if she had stayed in the Exiles; haunted, careless, morals slowly depleting until there was nothing left. She was tortured by what had happened that day she'd been dragged to the Exiles. Nothing could fix that, and Little had come to accept that fact despite her young age. She knew it. Breathing in, the kitten watched as the masked male padded forwards. And although she couldn't really see his face, she sensed the deep emotion stirring inside of him and her ears twitched, taking a step back, feeling frightened and flustered at this strange male in front of her. She heard him sniff and her heart palpated and immediately, sweat began to appear as a light sheen on her forehead. Why? That sniff had sounded familiar and damn it if she was right. Damn it all.


    As the strange male said her name, she found herself recoiling like a bullet hit her chest. She reminded herself that she had told Blizzardclan her name but the way he said it was so soft. So fatherly. She was trembling and she wanted someone else to be here. The good mood at seeing those nice floating islands had vanished into thin air and she found herself wishing it back because if she had it then maybe she wouldn't feel as awful seeing the man creep towards her so slowly. And then he began to take off that mask and her ears went flat as she saw that goddamn face that she knew so well from her earlier childhood. Circusclown. "I'm... I'm sorry." Her fur bristled at the audacity but she remained standing with a shocked look in her golden eyes, as if she were a deer caught in the headlights. Her Dad was alive. She had spent months thinking that Circusclown was also dead, no one had bothered to informed her he'd really been 'abducted' and certainly no one had told her he was still.. alive. In a clan that was close enough for hers to fly to. She struggled to breathe as she stared longer at the male.


    Months and months of lying in my bed, crying, because of the missing presence of both my parents. Because my Dad turned his back on me when I was being tortured. Because he never cared. Because both of them are dead. But he's here. One of them is alive. I could've made it through without being as scarred as I am now if you had just... stayed with me. You're here. You selfish thing, you are here.


    She tore her gaze to Tama and she was still shaking as she felt his eyes on her. "Here." She said to Tama, suppressing emotion from her youthful but strained voice. "A basket full of candies, from Hawkclan. Hope you l... Hope you like it!" She finished her sentence with a 'flourish' and pressed on as she shoved the basket towards Tama, although too roughly and too eager that the basket itself tipped over and the majority of the candies fell out onto the ground. A mess. It wasn't the candies that really got her but the whole scene itself and the dark grey tabby burst out into tears. She put her paws against her eyes and sobbed, trying hard to avoid the fact her Dad was right there but she couldn't help it because it was the whole reason she was crying because he was alive and she thought for so long he hadn't been.


    [hr]

    information && updated: 11/04

    [fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px; width: 450px; line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; font-size: 8pt;]//SAME OMG.. POOR LITTLEKIT IM SCREAMING MANNNN


    The way she reacted before he could even take off his mask, the quick ability to put things together made him bite down on his lip. Eyes skittering around as he saw her begin to bristle. He shouldn't have expected it to be this easy, to take off his mask and everyone to be okay. Obviously nothing would ever be easy, and he just wanted her to consider his apology. To think over just how sorry he was. Maybe that would distress her even more, but as it was this likely would haunt her judging by the reaction anyways. He had done what he never wanted to do as a father, and that was neglecting his children. Circusclown had tried to push Rick to take care of her, he hadn't wanted to hurt anymore of his offspring with reckless behavior. But then he died, and then Circusclown hadn't known what to do. Oblivious and lost, trying his hardest to try and open up to his daughter. And again, he had failed. He had in a way given up whenever he had given Littlekit to Rick, and he wished the other could have lived longer. This was the outcome of him raising a child alone, doing only the best he could do.


    But he really could have done better. He could have stopped all the pain, he could have stepped in rather then abandoning her, leaving her to figure it out herself. He could have followed her after she left. It wasn't like he actually knew The Exiles didn't care about him, but maybe if he did so many things would be different. At least she could have been happy out of all of this. He'd rather spend his time trying to help the youth, the one's who needed it. Maybe he hadn't been willing to put forth the energy and time to watch over her because he didn't want to spend all his time on it and she ended up like Weddingpaw or Morbidrealities anyway. She could be either dead or insane because of him, but maybe that would happen anyways because of his stupid behavior. Stupid and immature ways. He wasn't a child, he never had been, so he was supposed to step forth and take the consequences of his actions. He was supposed to be responsible, and he had failed to do so.


    He didn't want to let her leave right now, to ignore him with that sadness weighing her down. He wasn't willing to turn away with her so hurt right now, with the tears in her eyes. And the bandages around her arms, he couldn't just sit there and watch. He wasn't going to let her hurt herself, and he wasn't going to let anyone else hurt her ever again. He couldn't. He could tell what those were, and he hated seeing that on his daughter. Just looking at that made him feel disappointed in himself, angry at himself. He hadn't wanted to be a father, but right now more then anything he did. Right now, the only thing he felt the energy to do was to try and fix the pain he's caused. He wanted to undo it. He didn't want the only thing left behind when he died was a reputation of being a horrible friend, father, leader, and person. He didn't want that, he wanted to actually be something. And most of all, he didn't want to see his family hurt ever again. He didn't want to see them slowly wither away along with his happy memories, he didn't want to see them hurting themselves or angry at him. Maybe at heart, he wanted a calm and serene family, nobody to hurt them. And damn it, damn it he didn't want to be the person who hurt them ever.


    He had been selfish and disgusting, turning away from every single thing he had. He had it good, didn't he? He had a family, he had been a leader, he had been respected. And he threw it all the way, and even his family who didn't reside in The Exiles probably hated him too. In all honesty, he had only lead other's on a lie that he was a man with a good heart, because he wasn't. He was an immature child who only did what he thought was best for himself, bratty and selfish, cruel and greedy. He was stupid enough to try and rely on alcohol and loneliness that he never had bothered to even try and talk to Littlekit, to try and show her who he was, he never tried to be apart of her life. And watching her cry made him feel all the more disheartened, seeing how distraught she was, he didn't even know what to do. He was distraught as well. His eyes were dull and tired, but he was trying to keep them bright and warm. He could have stayed hidden, to stay low, but wouldn't that be the cowards way out? He was a coward though. He was a blubbering fool, only bothering with his own self-interests.


    Sucking in his breath, he tried to figure out what to say or what to do. She was sad right now... He didn't know if she wanted him to comfort her, if she wanted him to just leave at this point. His gaze slid towards Tama, who he could only imagine was judging him right now. But that didn't matter at all to him right at this moment, the only thing he cared about was Littlekit. So he'd slowly try to pick her up, but if she flinched backwards or did anything that showed anger or discomfort, it would be an immediate withdrawal away. The only thing he knew what to do right now was to try and hold her to comfort her, but he didn't really know what else to do. She was so clearly hurt, and he could understand why. He'd understand if she turned around and never wanted to come back, and if so then he'd never come into her sight again, he'd never try to talk to her, he'd never try to make any sort of contact with her, he'd never even acknowledge her. It would hurt, but he would do it if that's what she wanted. That would probably be the wrong thing to do, but at the same time what else could he do? Probably wait it out, but then again sometimes ignoring problems never worked. He guessed he'd just be lost, then.


    TAGS 11/16

    [fancypost bgcolor=; border:0;width:450px;text-align:justify; font-size: 8pt; line-height:1.5]Well this escalated quickly.


    Redlipstick felt her chest tighten as she approached, stopping when she saw the candies displayed across the ground, as if they'd been tossed there carelessly. The next thing she noticed was the kitten crying, the one who'd been holding the candies, but she could tell it wasn't because of the candies. It was too meaningful, too stormy and held in for so long, to be about the candy on the snow-covered ground being spilled. Her scarf fluttered in the wind and she frowned, expression a toxic mixture of pain, exhaustion, and confusion. She stopped alongside Tama, gently leaning against her daughter in an effort to help keep herself upright. She was weak with exhaustion, but she was also weak from watching this scene.


    She didn't dare say anything, instead just watch in hopeless silence as the HawkClan child wept on their border, as Bre- no, Circusclown, watched in tortured silence. Her thoughts drifted to when she'd found out who he was. She'd called him a friend, a close friend, even. He'd saved her life, brought her out of the fire and home safe. She'd cared about him, a lot, actually, a lot more than she'd want to admit. But to find out he was someone she was supposed to hate, someone who she'd believed to be a heartless murderer with no conscience, no soul? She didn't know what to do. As a result, she'd been avoiding him as much as possible. But how could she avoid someone when they were right there every day? It was hard. So, she watched in silence, wondering what he would do.
    [hr]

    info | updated 11/04/2016
    info | updated 11/04/2016

    [fancypost bgcolor=; bordercolor=transparent; color:; font-size: 8.5pt; text-align: justify; overflow: auto; width: 500px;]circ is such a smol sad floof it's unfair ;W;


    Littlekit struggled to stop sobbing and bawling her eyes out because she was on the border of a completely different clan, eyes on her, judging her, picking her apart. These people could see her weakness so easily and she doubted that if she made it out of this, that she'd be able to look at them in the eyes ever again. Her ears went flat and she pushed her muzzle into her paws, closing her eyes shut and trying to quieten herself but her body was shaking with each sob and her breath was hitching in her throat. She knew that Circ was getting closer but she didn't bother to move, not even when his paws touched her and picked her up in a way that was so horrifyingly familiar and painful at the same time. Hadn't Rick done this before? She knew Circ hadn't... maybe when she'd been a little baby, he had. But not now, not after. He had been the Uncle in her eyes. Nothing more. But she found out that he was her Dad and he barely.. he just... so... no. She hadn't been able to connect with him as a girl should with her Dad, not really, but she always wanted to.


    So she let him pick her up, and continued to stay in a tight dark grey ball of fur and tears. When I was in the Exiles, this is what I wanted from you. Even if I had pushed you away, I would've liked it. But not even that, not even that. Just glances and something akin to disappointment. You didn't want me to turn out like all your others but you weren't giving me what I wanted, what I craved; affection. A loving parent. To me, back then, you were just the Leader. Nothing more. She bit her lips and drew blood as she was biting it so hard, wanting to block out the feelings she felt in her gut. Perhaps he'd been afraid that if he tried to connect with her, she'd just be taken away. But how could she have even made or understood that judgement when she'd only been so little and immature? Hell, to this day, she was still so little but she had grown, matured in the environments she'd been forced into and endured. Littlekit had grown big but he wouldn't see that because he'd never really seen the smaller her, the weaker her. Just a kitten.


    She wanted a Father. Because her other dad, Rick, was dead, she thought she had no one. Of course, the girl had parental figures in Hawkclan, like Ichigo, Cloudwatching, O'Fraiser, Darkknight. But... none of them would ever really come close to being a real Dad, a blood dad. She craved the kind of bond where you wouldn't be judged, where you were so close that you literally understood every action of the other person, that you could laugh about inside jokes. And she didn't have that, not even with a friend. Sobbing, she slowly uncurled her body in his scarred brown arms and didn't think, just moved, as she attempted to wrap her arms around his neck and push her muzzle into his shoulder, ears flat, tears dribbling down her numb face. Littlekit didn't even realize what she was doing. "Where'd you go... Where'd you go? I couldn't find you, I tried, but you were no where. I thought you were dead, Dad. I thought you were dead like Dad." Littlekits tail curled. "Is he alive too? If you are, then he must be too. He has to be. It won't make sense otherwise."


    [hr]

    information && updated: 11/04

    [fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px; width: 450px; line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; font-size: 8pt;]poor little and circ aaA


    Seeing her in this state, it was so agonizing for him. It felt like torture. He couldn't even tell if she let him pick her up or if she just felt so defeated she didn't want to do anything. There was worry across his features as he'd look down at Littlekit, who was indeed seeming small. He wished he had spent more time with her, he wished he had taken the time to get to know her better. But now, Circusclown knew nothing about hr. He didn't know anything about what she's been going through, any of her hardships she was forced through. It shouldn't be normal for a child to grow up alone, to try and teach themselves how to survive, it was inhumane to put a child through that. But it was sadly common in this world, and Circusclown felt so angry with himself he had abandoned her. He could only hope nobody else has hurt her besides Blindfold, he hoped that she hasn't had to go through anymore suffering then he already knew she has.


    He felt ashamed, there was a feeling of regret that made him feel crushed, smashed down. But he could only imagine what Littlekit was feeling, he felt ashamed for even feeling sad for himself, like he was a victim. As of now she was the only person needing comfort, he could worry about himself later. He wished he could have been the father that she would have wanted, he wished he could have been seen as some sort of hero who stepped in, and who she felt safe to go to. He wanted to turn into that. She deserved so much more then he could offer, she was precious and innocent. She had never done anything wrong to him, how could she? She was only small, she was still young and had her whole life ahead of her. It wasn't her fault, none of this was her fault. It was his fault, really. He should have been there, always. He should have a strong and sturdy bond with her. All of his feelings right now, he believed his decisions were regrettable - he didn't want to make those mistakes ever again.


    As he held onto her, his eyes slid to look down at her as he would gently try and cradle her, and his grip would tighten around her as he felt her tears drip onto his shoulder as she wrapped her small arms around him. There were thousands of responses he thought of as he just listened to her, and he'd stare over her eyes unfocused and feeling heavy. "It's okay..." He'd try to comfort her with these words, before looking at those there. He probably should have done this privately, but he hadn't really known what to do. He didn't think about it, he was impulsive, again. Doing without thinking. Now what was he supposed to tell her? Just tell her that her other father was still dead, the one who had actually done something good for her? He would blink a few times as he grew a lump in his throat, trying to explain. "Uh, n-no... Littlekit... I um... I don't think he's alive. But if I ever see him, I promise you I'd tell you. People always come back, so maybe he will too." He'd hate to get her hopes up, to lead her on a lie. People didn't always come back. His sister Onyx didn't, Weddingpaw didn't come back, and to his knowledge Rick hadn't either. A lot of his children he had assumed were dead after they seemed to disappear, and perhaps that was one of the many reasons he hadn't wanted to help Littlekit grow. He didn't want to set himself up for disappointment, but that was downright selfishly disgusting to turn his back because of that. He didn't know if Rick had returned, maybe he would in the end, or maybe he already has and he just didn't know. But right now, he was mostly worried about Littlekit and trying to fix the mess he made.

    TAGS 11/16