THE NEW GREAT DEPRESSION ★ open, intro

Theia's appearance in BloodClan was somewhat of a mystery.

The black cat was naturally adept at hiding in the shadows. While her swift induction into BloodClan went unnoticed by most except for the one who had actually let her in, those who saw her in brief passing could place a few swift traits on her with a mere glance; jittery, odd, entirely out of place, a proverbial white sheep. Each title was just as true as the last, and each merged on the same path to the same conclusion; Theia simply did not belong. Whereas such an evident fact may have despaired those with a heart prone to sadness, Theia had come to accept this universal truth, and confined herself in a box defined by this interpretation. While this amount of resignation certainly did give her a fair helping of wistful thinking, Theia knew she had little time to entertain such thoughts.

What little time Theia did have however, was often spent scrounging on the ground for trinkets and shiny objects, which she used to line her nests and create mountains of loot and treasure. Where she could not salvage herself with personality traits deemed useful in BloodClan society, she could stay back in the shadows and take the shiny knick-knacks and baubles left in the coattails of those who were valuable. In accordance with this strange quirk of hers, she now sniffed along the outsides of the Blood House, nosing along patches of weeds and mounds of ants with her tail, long and thin, waving high in the air. Her large, expressive ears drooped with the frustration her itch caused her, huffing idly and snorting occasionally as gleaming curio and trifles refused to relinquish their ownership to her. She sniffed behind sickly bushes and sagging trees, between clefts of rock and clay bricks, before finally coming across the newest addition to her collection.

A piece of glass, illuminated by the sun, sent a ray of colors cascading down her face. The shard was misshapen and shattered, broken with jagged edges and sharp points, but Theia found use where no one else might. Without regarding her paws in a cautious manner, Theia quickly and quietly set about batting the shard, surround by it's brethren, away from the window it had fallen from and onto the broiling concrete, where she would enjoy the luxury of ease in transport.

There was a shuffling of grass behind her, and Theia’s immediate reaction was to drag the serrated edges of her reflective treasure closer to her center. She whirled around, prepares to face her aggressor with bared teeth and her idolatry-influenced greed, only to find another object of adoration strapped around the newcomer’s neck.

The girl herself was as golden as the sun, but even the radiance of her flame-licked fur could not compare to the gleaming brilliance of the diamonds upon her neck. Olivia was Prometheus, and the collar she flaunted was the flames he had stolen from the torches on Mount Olympus. Yet, even with such an apt analogy, Theia was left dissatisfied; why pilfer the very lifeblood of the Gods only to steal it away without ever letting the rest of the world experience its gleaming radiance? There came the itch in her paws again. Even with the fragile shard shifting deftly beneath her grasp and the glimmer of the rainbow on its surface, Theia’s eyes turned away from it in favour of something that was marginally more effulgent. There was a rumble in her belly and shift in her eyes, tell-tale signs that she was teetering precariously over the edge of thievery once more. Deny it, Theia told herself. Don’t let it get the better of you. Yet even with every bit of rejection and refusal, the idea of obtaining something previously thought unobtainable grew to be more and more irresistible by every passing second. The thrill of a chase surged through Theia’s body; her tail shivered and her shoulders shook, her paws trembled and her eyes widened to a full extension of her eyelids.

The coursing of blood curdling through her ears ceased momentarily, just as the stranger’s voice rose to a lilt at the end of an inquiry. Although most of the question had fallen upon deaf ears and her trembling had grown to the point of earlessness, Theia nodded anyways in complete denial of knowledge. “Oh, uh, y-yeah! Yeah!” Theia murmured, her voice trembling and her pitch growing higher the longer she talked. Her face contorted and shifted as if she had been caught in the process of a heinous crime, a criminal with no record or papers, a vagrant who blithely refused any wrongdoing. Even despite agreeing, Theia refused to move in fear of her own actions. Often, Theia attempted to call off her kleptomaniac tendencies, even for a day, only to reach nightfall and find her paws full of stolen items and goods to add to her horde. Perhaps if she never moved ever again, she would never be forced to comply with her body’s impulses.

/ definitely still open!! feel free :^)