my heart is lost — barbara

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  • In the few hours that he had spent residing in the clan, he had ultimately come upon the conclusion that they were quite dull, if not a little more than that. He didn't particularly mind it, a few hours of rest did him well, but he also craved to be out and about as he was before. He was now on a leash, one that could easily be pulled by either the hands of intimacy and affection for the few friends that he was sure to meet upon his arrival or by the rules that he would be forced to abide by. Rules were something he was not used to following, the presence of them foreign and uneasing.

    He had decided to meet new people, ultimately deciding that their possible friendship would be more beneficial to him than the hands of loneliness that were sure to grab him in his hours spent in solitude. He had vague, vague memories of what friendship felt like as if he was living in another life or another world. He could almost, almost remember their names. They were all surely dead as he was.

    Was it unusual that he could even remember what it felt like to feel love?

    His memories, the ones that were not of being in the wilderness were short and hazy. As if someone had taken a polaroid video of a few moments in time but then shook it about until it was hard to understand. He could remember being loved, feeling loved, until suddenly it was ripped away. As if the shaking stopped and the video faded. He could remember laughing, having family, but also a pulling sensation similar to the darkness that ran in his veins.

    Part of him suspected it was something other than a gene that he carried. Something of another world. But the darkness he felt before, the one in the memories, it was strong and pulling and untameable. Sometimes a feeling like that reflected in his eyes, if only for a half second, as if he had lost all control of his body. As if he was the something else that crept through the shadows of his blood.

    Barbara. He didn't know her. Understand her. Understanding others was hard for him, as if they were on another plane than he was. He normally dismissed those that spoke to him, or drew them closer so he could taste the love that was in the memories if only for a little bit. But it was soon gone, and he pushed those he let in away farther than ever. It was an endless cycle, a quest to find the love that he could somehow remember.

    That was not real. Maybe they were just dreams.

    But Barbara was not going to be a conquest. She was not going to be an escape. He wanted to make a friend, if not a friend than an enemy. He wanted something, or someone to speak to. To understand. She was the leader, if he was correct, and she knew more about the clan than anyone else. She would have to. And she would teach him. Teach him about clans in general, because he could not remember anything about them.

    He did not know how he found her den. Perhaps it was because in the midst of his searching of the territory he had picked up on the scent of something sweet. Like peppermint and vanilla. It was unusually calming, and so he followed it until he came across her den. A little quaint, or perhaps just weird it would be in the other's eyes, but she was the leader. She knew about clans. She knew how they worked. And soon he would too.

    Because he wanted to fit in.

    The wolf waited, resisting the urge to walk away and flick his tail in her face. That was curt, and his goal here was to be the opposite of that. Warm, friendly, as much as his icy blue eyes proved him not to be. "Barbara, dear?" Pet names normally made most girls mad, but dear was one of the few that was simply an act of friendliness. Being polite. As expected, a cigarette hung from the right corner of his lip to ease his growing nerves. His goal to understand the clan as well as he could was slowly growing more tedious and tiresome by the passing minute. "Name's Socrates. I'm new—likely why you've never heard my voice before. A little blue birdie told me that you were the leader, which means that you know more about the clan than anyone else here. I've never been in a clan before. Can you tell me about the traditions and such?"

    "If you're not busy, leader sounds like a pretty tough job to me."



    played by adalene + plotting + tags 

  • Barbara wasn't really as deep of a person as Socrates. She had two people she cared about - her brother and Hypokrisis -, and even then she was hesitant to even label Hypo as a friend. Jamie, well, of course she loved him, and everybody knew it. Hypo, well, he was... different. As for all her clanmates? Well, she supposed that, as Bloodclan's leader, she was expected to care about them, but really, she didn't. So they were pregnant? Amazing. Their sister died? Tragic. As long as it didn't directly jeopardize her clan, she was fine. However, that was one thing she definitely cared about - Bloodclan as a whole. Not its thuggish, sometimes brute-like members, but its potential and its future. Bloodclan could be so much, and it was hers. She was the one responsible to mold Bloodclan, and she'd be damned if she didn't sculpt it into the most terrifying fucking clan there ever was. No one would dare to cross her or her clan, or they would risk their and those they loved's blood to be shed.

    However, outside of her friend "group" (if you could even call it a group), of course she had connections. She was sort of... "allies" with some sort of loner that had gotten himself exiled by Blizzardclan named Riddlersgame. He was hot, but had apparently recently suffered from a breakup and was probably gay, so he wasn't interested in sleeping with her. Regardless, they had gotten a drunk and had a good time. She was also considering a friendship with a Blizzardclanner named Jerseyboy, some guy she had hooked up with on a blind date. Apparently, he knew her Riddleboy, too. He was a real charmer, a bit douchey (not like she cared), and she doubted he'd object to the things she did in her clan. Approve of them? Maybe not. But it wasn't his place to. Whatever, though. She liked the tom - he was hot, good in bed, and fun to hang around. Pretty much the ideal friend, considering jow weird her relationship with Hypo was. There were other, less meaningful people than the tuxedo tom, though ones still quite like him, of course. Barbie had slept with tons of guys, tons of girls, and others. What could she say? She must be a real hottie (no, she knew she was. She was hot as fucking hell), and people in general just... got her excited. She "liked" pretty much everybody, unless they were ugly or annoying.

    Given Barb's attachment to Bloodclan, she would undoubtedly be quite offended if she knew Socrates found them dull. What, were captures, tortures, sacrifices, all that shit, not good enough? Though, they had really been falling behind on that area recently. God damn it. She'd really have to up her game, then, if she expected her clan to get anywhere. However, Barbara knew she had to get to know her clanmates. To get to know their weaknesses, she told herself, but it was mostly because that was what looked good. People preferred an involved leader over a distant one, so an involved one she would be.

    In fact, that was just what the unusually heavy femme was doing, helping out some recently joined NPCs, when her mind drifted over to the day of her and Jamison's joining. Of how hot and tired they had been, but how excited they became when they came across Bloodclan's territory, which was then the Mediterranean lands. She had been so ready to flirt and mingle, so energetic. Soon, she learned that people were fun, but they were all fake. There was nearly no such thing as real friends, and almost definitely no one you could trust. Anyone, at any time, could be swayed, persuaded to put a knife in your back. Barb was always ready, though - she wasn't worried about that. She could kill anyone who challenged her, she was sure. Barbara finished settling the NPCs into their new dens before returning to her own, exhausted. Her back and paws hurt from carrying the extra weight of her children, which would be born any day now. She was hot and tired and... surprisingly not too grumpy. No more than her average grumpiness, anyway. Jamie must have been out hunting, or something, because as she gazed to her side and into their bed, she saw nothing. Good. He was making himself useful.

    The tabby had just settled into her bed for perhaps a good nap when she heard the call. "Barbara, dear?" She didn't recognize the voice, but it was masculine, a bit... hot, but most things were hot to her. Anyway, his words and voice may not match his face. The door to the Fawkes twins' den opened and out stepped Barbara, looking surprisingly well-kept considering all she had been doing today - her choker necklace was secured as it usually was, dagger slid safely into it, and her fur was smoothed down for the most part, though a bit ruffled on her back. She was sure she had seen this guy before, but only in passing, which makes sense, since he explained that he was new. Ah. "Well, handsome, welcome, nice to meet you, blah blah blah. Why don't you come in and I can explain it a bit to you, hm?" she offered, quirking a brow expectantly. There were a few traditions in Bloodclan, and tons of traditions in other clans.