the voices led to you - o, joining

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    bio — //hey I’m cold and don’t want to leave my bed, so this was done on mobile. I decided to bring a character here permanently so when Panther leaves I’ll still be around. Abraham has serve schizophrenia and was formerly part of the orphans of the stars before disabandoning them due to believing the voice in his head is a member of the dark forest. In fear it would spread he left ShadowClan and his kin in hopes that spending a life out of reach from StarClan (in his eyes), and kin in punishment (for having connections to the df and for leaving his birth clan many moons about) that’d in death StarClan would “purify” him and basically he’d go to StarClan. Why? Because I’m edgy lol. I’m hoping he will actually get somewhat better after being away from his family who were unhealthy believers in StarClan but we’ll see lol.


    The large tom allowed his limbs to carry him closer and closer to the BloodClan border. He had been searching for them for days! He was quite positive it shouldn’t have taken him that long to find his way to them, but the voices led him around and around in circles. Oh they said they’d take him straight to the border! Though he was pretty sure traveling all the way to the tribe and back to ShadowClan would have been shorter then the circles they drove him in.


    Oh he wished she’d go away. Why didn’t she go?


    He red fur flamed in the shimmers of sunlight as he anxiously made his way over to what he believed was the border. Oh what a fowl scent! That’s where he’d spend the rest of his life... repenting. He deserved this fate, rotting in the cities. Suffering until death blissfully lifted him up. Oh he prayed that this suffering would be enough for StarClan to forgive him and welcome him in with open arms. He hoped... he hoped...


    This wouldn’t have to be done if the voice that lingered in his head and whispered to him would’ve just gone away, never dared touched his pure mind. Ever since birth he could hear her... perhaps he was cursed by the Darkforsest? Oh he was really beginning to believe so.


    His eyes trailed up to look at the large two leg structures until they disappeared into the sky. Oh... that was high up into the air. He wondered if you could speak to StarClan from there? Gotta be close to. Though he doubted StarClan roamed these skies, they wouldn’t see him from there.


    So he waited alone on the border, with no one but the voice’s presence accompany him.


    ""


    LAST NIGHT I WOKE THE FUCK UP && bloodclan & tags


    Slowhand had been skipping out on his duties lately. He'd been ignoring his job as a guard and remaining silent for too long. He needed to keep up with his occupation. But why bother when he was leaving so soon? Why bother when he was going to have his ass handed to him by the devil? There was no point. But Slowhand had to pretend. He had to pretend that he was going to stick around for the rest of his life. But he wasn't. He was going to leave so very soon. But he was going to keep up appearances for now. So with a forced smile he spotted the newcomer. A large tom with an unnerving look about him. So with hesitance the guard would make his way over on three legs and stare the male up and down with uncertainty in the pit of his stomach. Nonetheless he spoke up, "Hello there, what is your name and business?" He tried to keep an even voice without letting annoyance slip into his tone. He'd been on edge lately. He knew he was leaving in such a short amount of time but he couldn't help but feel wary. Wary that somebody would find out what he'd been doing as of late and call upon the devil himself, Caledon. Nonetheless Slowhand would stand with some confidence left in his body. Some confidence that his treasonous actions wouldn't be found out.


    // CALEDON.

    ywIV5cP.png


    // welcome! <3


    the slippery slopes of death could describe the frosted pavement the wintery reaper gracefully floated over. Ebony mass of bone were his pads that cracked like thunder against twoleg’s stone. Pillars of muscle shaped with war, carrying the embodiment of what most considered a nightmare. Accept, this nightmare lived in the day. With baby blue eyes swimming with their wicked beauty, carving across the land with his sharp pupils. Holstered by his dark sockets and placid features that painted across his muzzle. Being a man who had only just recently lost his daughter, he was in no mood to have his patience tested. Though, somehow he always pushed himself to offer everyone the chance. His sights fell on the three-legged tabby that was his timid guard. Caledon stood silently next to his guard and allowed the question to fall victim to whatever answer the stranger chose to spew forth. The scent that traveled from the velvety tom was unrecognizable. Glacial hues lay scrutiny upon him, like a wolf, his hostility was always hidden. You never knew whether or not he intended to bite.


    CALEDON'S STATS. & ART

    bio — The large red and white maine coon sat peacefully at the border, golden eyes continuing to scan the skies of the territory. His paws shuffled anxiously, his muscles tensing up. Perhaps... perhaps he shouldn't be here. Perhaps Abraham should just run off far away from the clans and hide away until his last days. Run and flee the skies of StarClan so that when he dies they wouldn't have to judge him...


    "Coward!" The feminine voice would ring in his head. The red coated toms ears folded as if he was a kit being scolded, his tail wrapping shamefully around his hind leg from where he sat. Oh StarClan she was right! He was here to please StarClan, here to make them understand that he knew his place on the ground. Make them think he was worthy of hunting in their starry hunting grounds in the afterlife.


    He would do this. He would succeed at his task. He'd make them proud, and he'd show the the voice that flooded his thoughts that he was no puny kit.


    "Hello" Abraham nearly jumped out of his fur as the voice suddenly broke him from thought. His large pointy ears perking back up. Friendly enough? Right? He opened his mouth to speak before his jaw nearly dropped at the sight of the figure that stood by the cats side. Oh how terrifying! He had heard tales and descriptions of what the tyrants that roamed this territory looked like, but they were much scarier seeing them face to face. With a quick gulp, he shuffled his paws nervously once more before opening his maw.



    "Ahaha... Hello, Hello! I'm Abraham. Pleasure to meet- be... your acquaintance." He forced a purr to the questioner, although his eyes always seemed to dart quickly back and forth to Caledon. Still not quite over how the tom looked. Did most BloodClan cats look like that? Would he look like that by the time he escaped from this mess?!


    "I'm a former ShadowClan warrior. I left in search of you guys! I heard stories... and heard about your er, morals and values-" He almost snorted at himself at that comment, "and I want a life like that! Dedicating my life to one cause, and one cause only. BloodClan and its members if you'd let me! Oh yeah I almost forgot! I'm Abraham!" He repeated his introduction needlessly.


    ""

    His ivory peppered paws rhythmically carried the bulky creamy-hued tabby towards the scent of a stranger, although he was hardly just in his teen years - Jeremiah exhibited an arrogant amount of bravery, constantly trying to prove himself, constantly trying to follow in the mighty pawprints of his late father. A freckled nose twitched, the boy found it difficult to pinpoint the origin of the stranger, concluding that he must have been travelling for some time. Jeremiah arrived next on the scene, judgmental green eyes flickered over the stranger curiously as he took his position beside his leader.


    "I'm Jeremiah." His gruff voice spoke, emotionless and stoney. He looked at his leader, waiting for the approval for the tabby to join the clan before he said anything else.

    Another maine coon, a red and white one at that. The red hues in Liverpool's own coat were covered by chocolate fur, nonetheless these two cats were too different to be mistaken for one another. This prospective member seemed like a coward, at least to Liverpool's own eyes. The nervous voice accompanied with near-fearful movements Liverpool could only guess the origins of this feline -- the clans. He too had once been amongst their ranks, he too had once had to face the very clan he was now a part of. Bloodclan was a sort of disease to Liverpool, nevertheless he'd given into it. After what he'd done to his family, he deserved no less.


    'morals and values'


    They had a few, but they were certainly not as strict as the clans. That is, if you were caught. The things his own mother had done to him went unnoticed, thus he couldn't imagine the clan's code of ethics to ever truly work. Making his way to the scene Liverpool was surprised that he recognized all the faces involved in this confrontation, it was, in fact, most like his own orientation into Bloodclan. Seating himself beside Jeremiah, a kitten which was much more fond of him than anyone else here, the large copper-eyed feline looked towards the stranger, his gaze searching for anything of value. "ShadowClan, eh?," the bi-colored tom brought up with a simple swish of his bay tail. Liverpool had never fought against one of their kind, yet he was quick to assume that they were quite similar to the rest of the clans -- only good as buzzardfood.


    'Let's see if he'll make it.'


    tags ⊹ plots

    It goes "hashtag, bodybag." Toe tag. Shot in the chest. —

                "He keeps talking."

    "To be expected. Maybe he is like Him?" "Stop talking like I'm not right here," Chucky growled under his breath as he approached. The young tom flicked his tail as he sat separate from the others, observing the strangely colored, large tom before him. Well, Chucky was quite large aswell, thanks to both of his parents, and was nearly to the size of a full grown tom. But, he had kit fluff still. His hollow eyes narrowed suspiciously, devoid of emotion as he twitched his whiskers. Alot of new cats. Cannibalistic? Perhaps.

    //bleh. Short but here's my schizo boi