A toast to song and friends | Joining

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    JUNO

    female / 30 moons / loner / X

    Day one they were ten, day ten they were one. As the wanderers wandered on, their small group got picked off one by one, lost to the streets, to the rats, to the dogs. What could she have been expected to do? Allow herself to be torn apart as well in a show of solidarity? There was nothing to show if she was dead that's what she thought. Her ragtag group didn't know where they were going, they head no heading, no destination. They simply walked "follow the Snakepath" she was told when they first set out. The spindly Abyssinian walked on lanky legs, looking as relaxed as could be. Surely the great snake had a destination, it followed this path religiously, it never deviated. If the snake could find a home of its own, so too could she. "Shall we sing a tune? Liven up our paws? The rust of these tracks is corroding my throat," she purred and looked over her shoulder in mock surprise, almond green eyes wide in faux shock. "Oh that's right! You all had to go ahead and die, leaving me alone. Make me feel bad about my ability to protect you," she snorted in frustration, swinging her wide head forward facing again.

    She was tall, she could see for quite a distance, and there was no end to these tracks in sight. This was a fools errand. "A voice is only so pretty when it sings on it's own, even the birds sing a choir!"     she seethed crying out to herself in desperation, a single flick of her tail had her continuing on her march. It wasn't long until she came across a different scent, beneath the rust and grime and rat droppings. It smelled of other cats, scent markers, clearly intentional. This gave her pause, and her ears flattened in frustration. Who were these cats to have effectively barred her passage? That was just rude! An annoyed grumble met her throat and a metaphorical furrow of her brow had her moving on, skirting the outside of this invisible boundary. She would simply walk around, that's all. It would only take her a few more days! She groaned aloud at her forced optimism and shook her head. This was hopeless, at least those dead fools would keep her fed, would watch her back while she slept so she could watch theirs while they traveled. What an absolute inconvenience. Her paws ached, her legs were too long for this extended travel, her muscles that rippled easily under her short ruddy pelt burned from excessive use. Sure she could fight off a few rats... but another raccoon? She'd be done for, she was sure of it. She wasn't so naive to think she could take on the world in her increasingly exhausted condition, she hadn't slept since she found herself as the final surviving member.
    So onward she would push, carefully staying outside the border, checking occasionally for weaker spots in the border she might be able to slip in. If accosted, she could always blame the condition of shoddy scent markers!

    ☾ tags | played by Harvest ☽

    [&] ASPEN

    Aspen knew a thing or two about death. He remembered many times when he would start to speak to his mother, only to remember that she wasn't there and never would be returning. Now, perhaps this joiner felt a little bit different towards their clan-mates, or friends, whoever, dying but Aspen had felt only guilt from his mothers passing. He had spent many moons wondering if he had been there, either with her or just in time to see her fall, if he could have saved her life. Realistically; unless he had gotten her away from the tree, he wouldn't have been able to save her. Her fall was too high, and her body had too much internal damage for a young child with no preexisting medical training to help. That never lessened the guilt though. Maybe it had been his inability to actually save her, or maybe him wishing she had been around a little longer. Or perhaps it was his regret he hadn't told her goodbye and he loved her one last time. But the memory always nessled into his brain no matter the reason, especially when he met joiners. Since Hemera's accident prior to her joining, he hadn't been able to see those who stood on the border the same. The fear they may be terminally injured and collapse at his paws was deafening. Deafening in a strange way; a way in which he feared it yet he wanted to know ahead of time so he could be there and save them. His internal conflict was high.


    He had been walking the border on his own when he had seen the faint outline of another tall cat. Aspen himself was kind of large for a feline, he could blame it on his Windclan roots, or perhaps just the recessive genes his father had passed down to him. As a tyro, awaiting his days to become a ripper, he hovered over most of the full-grown adult members of the clan. But this she-cat, she seemed to be tall in a different way. Rather than being Windclan kin, she seemed to be tall due to her breed. He could spot a different pelt-coloration from a mile away. It was almost as if his un-trained eye were leading him straight to the new memebers who looked vastly different from his scruffy clan mates and the sleek cats he had encountered in Windclan. As he came closer to the she-cat who seemed to be looking for something, or rather sniffing for something, he lifted his head up, giving her a good long look. She didn't seem as she posed any danger, and there were no other obvious scent marks from other cats around her. She looked tired, as if she had walked for days. He could tell she was probably beginning to feel exhausted if she wasn't already. This made her less of a threat. He was learning to tear apart situations before jumping into them, like he hadn't when the murderous cat had stood on their border before, when they had to call all the rippers. He wouldn't let himself be in that situation again any time soon.


    "Hey there." the solid grey tom would speak from a distance, his deep yellow eyes checking his surroundings one last time before he would prod up to the female. "This is the start of Bloodclan territory, anything I can do for you?" he said, offering her a comforting nod of his head and the best smile he could muster up given the situation. He didn't want his head bit off again for asking someone how they were, as he had a thousand times before on borders. "Names Aspen. And you are?" 



    ℬ𝒿ℴ𝓇𝓃

    ○ What is Life's greatest Illusion? ○

    ● Innocence, my Brother. ●

    Info — Bjorn | 47 moons | Member | BloodClan | Interaction: —



    Trying to hunt in these barren lands was about as successful as a kit walking on two legs. Bjorn had been out for hours trying to find something he could famish himself with. He couldn't bring himself to dig amongst Two-Leg trash like some of his comrades. The smell along was enough to make him want to reach in disgust. But, if one was that desperate, he understood trying to survive. Something on your stomach was better than nothing. The large tom glided across the splintered grass outside of the city, attempting to catch a whiff of something he could hunt. Anything. But, another scent wafted into his glands as his golden optics glittered with pure interest.


    It was a foreigner. Another feline, like him. How wonderful, he twitched his long ivory whiskers as the thought. With his growling stomach forgotten, Bjorn followed this rather sweet scent for some time. It seemed they recognized these bordersas someone's territory, much like he did not many days ago. "At least they're somewhat intelligent." He gave a humorous grunt as he trekked along BloodClan borders. Within a few moments, a slender fae came into view. Her russet pelt shined like a brand of fire in this sun, while his was more of chocolate in color. He would reach within a few tail-lengths of the newcomer, given his longer legs. "Greetings." He rumbled, his usual indifferent now melting into an expression of mere amusement and interest. She looked fascinating but, looks can be deceiving. Bjorn has had to learn that the hard way in his past.

    TWENTY FIVE FELT LIKE FLYING

    One would think that with the constant influx of newcomers—himself included—Bullet would get used to smelling their unfamilar scents in the air. But, no, this was not the case and it would probably never be.


    The hypocritical boy followed the stench until he wound up at the border, noticing an abyssinian molly following the scentline. His gaze flickered to Aspen and Bjorn, who, of course, were already kindly conversing with this outsider. Pouting, Bullet slunk to the grey tyro's side, eyeing the newcomer suspiciously. His golden gaze was narrowed.


    "Yeah, who are you?" The child echoed Aspen's question in a more direct and rude way, not caring to give up his personal information to someone he didn't know.

    JUNO

    female / 30 moons / loner / X

    She had no sooner decided to try her luck and simply cross the border when a voice rang out, evidently speaking to her. Peridot green eyes widened in excitement as she met his, taking a moment to size him up just as he had done her. Tall, was the first descriptor that came to mind. Much like herself he was lanky, and it was nice not having to crook her neck to meet someones gaze eye-to-eye. A solid grey was he, rather unremarkable as far as many cats go... but he seemed friendly enough. If this was his land as he so claimed it to be, he'd be well within his rights to run her off. He introduced himself as Aspen, and she couldn't help but crack a small smile with how forthcoming he was. Awfully brave to offer ones name first, and she had little time to question why he felt so confident. Two more cats appeared seemingly from nowhere to pause at his side. One cat she could take on, maybe even two, three if she had a partner... but not alone. She knew her exhaustion was evident, but she would provide no further weakness for them to exploit, she knew better than that.

    Instead, she rocked back onto her haunches and hit the ground with the faintest of thuds. She would feign the utmost relaxation, going so far as to drag a quick paw over her ear as her gaze shifted lazily to Bjorn and Bullet, though she did not know them as such. "Bloodclan you say? I don't believe I've had the pleasure to hear tales of such a thing..." she murmured before he eyes widened and her back straightened like a board, "How rude of me! My name is Juno, the pleasure is mine," she extended her head outward and lowered to her chest in a tight bow, not willing to set even a whisker over their border.The pleasure was always hers... why would she share? She wouldn't invite them to flay her, she'd come too far for such a mediocre end.
    Reminiscent of fire her pelt was indeed, she fixed her eyes on Bjorn now and cracked a grin. His fur looked rather comfortable... she'd often wondered what it was like to have thicker fur, more of a cushion rather than ones bones meeting the earth when she would rest. His greetings to her were also rather polite and she began to feel more at ease... until a younger spitfire joined the equation. More defensive, aggressive, rude even. Why, she'd cuff him over the ear if it wouldn't mean her hide.

    "Like I said... my name is Juno. Does this name not please you?" her voice was dripping in mock concern belying utter indifference beneath it. She been travelling for days without a companion... she would certainly take a brief chat with these strangers, these "Bloodclanners" before she went on her way.

    ☾ tags | played by Harvest ☽

    ℬ𝒿ℴ𝓇𝓃

    ○ What is Life's greatest Illusion? ○

    ● Innocence, my Brother. ●

    Info — Bjorn | 47 moons | Member | BloodClan | Interaction: —



    Oh, and how amused he was indeed. Not only did her looks fascinate Bjorn's wandering eyes but, she was quite witty as well. A fae that could definitely talk her way out of anything was both fascinating and unnerving at the same time. He flicked his chestnut ears at the sound of her pronounced name, a name he had not heard of before. It was different, much like his own. "Juno, you say?" He mused, letting the name roll off his tongue with his light foreign accent. "How quaint. Well, Juno. I have many names but, you may have the pleasure to call me Bjorn." The usual indifferent tom cracked a small crooked grin, waving his feathered tail in greeting. She certainly is a witty one, isn't she? He thought as he cast a glance at the remaining BloodClanners before him. He flicked his tail over Bullet's ears, an action his mother used to do in silent scolding if he ever was rude.


    He listened to her questions of BloodClan and retained himself from not rolling his eyes at the name. Bjorn had agreed to join this clan when Ryland had told him he couldn'tcross these borders, and he agreed, stating he had nothing else to lose. It wasn't the best life, though it was surely better than if he had stayed at home with his maniac father. He mimicked the actions of Juno, taking a sitting position on the other side of the border. She could not enter yet, for they had to wait for Ryland to approve if this fae wanted to join or was just traveling like he was days before. "Yes, BloodClan. We are a clan of cats that live within the city. Since my time here..it's grown quite interesting." He half-heartedly chuckled, though it came out more of a grunt than any type of laughter. Though, he was sure Juno hadn't come here just to hear the tell tales of BloodClan, she was here for a reason. "The better question is..why are you here?"

    JUNO

    female / 30 moons / loner / X

    The next to step forward was the soft looking one. He introduced himself as Bjorn, a powerful name no doubt... but there was something in his golden eyes that gave her the impression he could withstand a beating... verbal and physical. "Bjorn..." she murmured softly, casting her eyes skyward as if mulling the name over in her mind. "That'll do. A fine name indeed... the pleasure is yours." some would call her rather pompous, a fool for poking the dog when she was the one that didn't belong here. They were a group, an organized one at that to have given themselves a name. She'd had a group herself, but they had no such structure, no hierarchy, the leader was whoever cats didn't feel confident enough fighting that day. He seemed moderately interested in her, and so she would do hi the same courtesy in kind, meeting his eyes and focusing her attention on him for as long as he looked and as long as he spoke.

    This BloodClan had claimed this city? And to call themselves a clan, they must be many... many more than she was seeing before her now. A slight tingle of nerves began to sound warning bells that perhaps she shouldn't be here. But as arrogant as she was, she would stay, she would drink them dry of all the words they were willing to impart on her. She'd already gleaned one tasty morsel of information, BloodClan patrolled this city, the unspoken message was that she would do well to avoid it. "Snce you've been here, you say? You're rather new?" Everyone's favorite topic was themselves, she'd keep him talking. She leaned forward in engagement, coaxing him with her eyes and body language that he and she were of utmost importance. "I've seen some rather interesting things too... which brings me to your next question. I am but a wanderer, simply trying to make a place for myself... seems BloodClan has beaten me to the punch." a melodic laugh rose from her chest but it held no humor. She was rather frustrated. As if she hadn't walked long enough, not to have to skirt the entire area? Perhaps these cats could grant her passage? If she batted her eyes enough, maybe they would simply turn a blind eye to her being there; in and out before they knew it.

    ☾ tags | played by Harvest ☽

    ℬ𝒿ℴ𝓇𝓃

    ○ What is Life's greatest Illusion? ○

    ● Innocence, my Brother. ●

    Info — Bjorn | 47 moons | Member | BloodClan | Interaction: —



    Hearing her pronounce his own name made his fur prickle with an unnamed sensation. Something about her voice drew him into the conversation, causing his subconscious to want to reel back from the situation. He wasn't usually like this, especially back at home. Usually, Bjorn avoided conversation and interactions. He wasn't meant for this, he was a trained assassin, a metaphorical Grim Reaper within the shadows. But Bjorn was too stubborn to listen, he wanted to revel himself in those peridot eyes of hers. Knock it off, you ignoramus. He would curse under his breath, making the large tom blink a few times to regain himself.


    So, she wanted to ask more of him, did she? Juno presented herself to be as interested as he was; though for someone like her, it was most likely a front. He would give away a vague answer, considering she wasn't a clan member. The large tom grunted humorously, shrugging his shoulders in an indifferent expression. "Not long. A few days." He would reply plainly, as if what she asked of him was as simple as the weather. Bjorn was born among a Brotherhood of assassins where females who claimed their place amongst them had silver tongues just as Juno did. He knew her game, and he would play it just enough to keep her interested. "Wanderer you say? Well, you've wandered into quite the scenario, now have you? Are you implying by finding a place for yourself, you wish to reside here?" He cracked a sly grin, wondering whether Ryland would make his presence known anytime soon. "I wish I could give you an answer dearie, but that's the leader's decision to make."



    RYLAND.

    Ryland making his presence known is never exactly high on his list. Unlike leaders of the past, he doesn't often make it a point to pace their borders—he has been patrolling more often now, because of the looming battle with ThunderClan on the horizon, but normally he would much rather be off doing his own thing. Of course, the high tensions are lucky for Juno; Ryland is busy making his daily rounds along the line of their oaks, silvery gaze faraway and ears pressed back. It isn't long until he comes across the sound of voices, and with a prickling already lifting the fur along his spine, he quickens his pace—normally joiners might wait longer for the leader to come across them, but as soon as Ryland meets the eyes of someone new, he's already quickly making his way forward to join the crowd.


    The tail end of the conversation is enough to learn of what she wants; she's a wanderer who had stopped at their borders, and in her search for a home she had come across BloodClan. A foolish mistake, when they're at the cusp of a war, but Ryland doesn't bother to mention it. Looking her over, she seems like she could be useful... Though she's small, the muscle in her legs is unmistakable, and she holds herself with arrogance... Mocking, manipulating. She could make a good ripper, if she has any plan to stick around. "If you wanna live here, you better know how to fight," Ryland blurts, breaking the importance between he and she. In reality, Juno will not get anywhere with Bjorn. The one who she needs to be batting eyelashes at is Ryland—but of course, she has no way of knowing that he is the leader. He never introduces himself as such, after all, but he continues onward in his easy assessment as if it doesn't matter. "You have the muscle, but can you back it up?" We need muscle now more than ever.


    / just a little note, @tting the leader or deputy in a joining is for when your character icly leaves the thread to fetch them <3 it's so we can more easily enter into a long thread!

    JUNO

    female / 30 moons / loner / X

    Bjorn had stumbled into her web, the look in his eyes portrayed that she had drawn him in, and a bit of pride coursed through her veins. It was easy enough to manipulate her old group, she was one of very females, they just about tripped over themselves in their haste to please her. But like a spider late to their web, Bjorn seemed to realize he'd been got and pulled away, she'd lost him. Bummer... these ones might have brains she mused silently, even if the thought excited her. It was no fun beguiling mindless fools, she liked a challenge; she took pleasure in the long game. Had she implied that she wanted to live here? She supposed indirectly she had. "I seek to live wherever I might find a dry place to rest my head... the fewer rats the better if I may be so lucky," she really wasn't picky, she couldn't be. She had no destination in mind, but she thought she would know it when she found it. But if this great expanse of area was already occupied, who was to say her home wasn't in this mess of twoleg nests? The mention of a leader intrigued her, moreso interested in the fact that it wasn't Bjorn or any of those in attendance. He wasn't the one she needed to speak to, so her attention dropped immediately; there was nothing to gain from him.

    Another cat approached then, and she gave him a cursory glance until he spoke. Four was definitely a crowd. "You don't make it around here not knowing how to fight," she responded coolly and glanced Ryland over just as he did her. Though she was tall and lanky, her physique did not betray as much of the muscle she'd fought hard to build. She wasn't as bulky as many aggressors, but she could hold her own easily. His next words seemed significantly less questioning than the first. She'd had no intention of staying here, but was that a challenge? She turned her head up and glared back, "You bet your tail I can back it up, care for a demonstration?" She knew she was asking for trouble goading on these cats on their own turf, but they'd piqued her interest; if joining meant she had to be capable of fighting, this seemed like an interesting place indeed.

    ☾ tags | played by Harvest ☽

    [&] ASPEN

    Aspen had decided to keep quiet until the cats were done talking around him, he really didn't have much to say as it seemed they were getting along quiet well with all the others. The tall tom would sit there and patiently wait either sergei or rylands approach. When he saw Ryland padding up to the small gather, Aspen couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief. It would be rude for him to leave right now, but he was feeling less and less out of his comfort zone the more the 'June' talked to the others and he fell into the side lines. Maybe it was just his over-thinker mindset coming in to play again. "That's nice, having more cats that can fight than can't." Aspen said, thinking more of himself being unable to fight well than the others. "Nice name, Juno." that was all he had to say for now.



    ℬ𝒿ℴ𝓇𝓃

    ○ What is Life's greatest Illusion? ○

    ● Innocence, my Brother. ●

    Info — Bjorn | 47 moons | Member | BloodClan | Interaction: —


    || Sorry! I've seen a lot of people do it differently! 🥺 Will remember this! ||


    As Ryland approached, Bjorn shifted his eerie optics towards the tabby tom. Juno averted her period gaze from him as quickly as if she grew bored of him like an old toy. The large tom's expression melted into that same indifferent expression he always would carry. Ryland had asked this newcomer rather suddenly whether she could fight or not, and he had to suppress a sudden burst of laughter. Someone like her? Bjorn wanted to intervene and throw in a snarky comment, something along the lines of her being better at flirting her way to the top than fighting. Though, it was within everyone's nest interest if he didn't. He did, however, let out a humorous grunt when Juno had the audacity to challenge Ryland. It was quite ironic, considering he was leader.

    Aspen had spoken up now, and Bjorn had almost forgotten about the young tom until he heard his voice. He let his tail rest on his shoulder, silently apologizing if he felt awkward in this situation. The chestnut tom presumed that maybe he should be a little more vague next time, and to not be so tempted by a pretty face. He listened to the ashy tom, nodding in agreement with him. "It is, indeed. Though with enough training, even the most passive of cats will be capable to defend themselves." He gave the younger tom the smallest of smiles, Aspens softer features reminded Bjorn of a younger version of him before being reshaped in the forge of cold blood to become what he was today.

    Though Juno prides herself in her skills of manipulation, she really doesn't need anything of the sort—at least, not with Ryland. Being such a gullible cat, there's no need to manipulate the 'leader' of BloodClan when one can simply lie instead. Many cats have gotten through these borders by giving fabricated uses, but who cares? As long as they're adding food to BloodClan's scrap-pile, then they have use. And if they don't? Well. Useless cats never tend to last long, whether they lied to get in or not. BloodClan has no room for the worthless... But Juno isn't worthless, is she? She has hidden promise of muscle and a raging fight in her spirit, and if anything, she'll be a fine new pair of claws to add to their growing collection. She's something of a toy soldier, and Ryland is adding her into his growing line, marching them all endlessly into war. She'll be good for the ranks, especially with the current circumstances.


    The girl's voice is cool, but her eyes and voice are spicy, as if somehow Ryland's single question had challenged her in some way. He can't help but to chuckle—does she really think she needs to prove herself to him? "I don't need a demonstration, no. I'm sure you're telling the truth," Ryland chuckles around a slightly crooked smile, looking her up and down passively. "Juno, huh?" His ear had twisted to catch Aspen's words, and for a moment he remembers their young healer of the same name who had gone to live out the rest of his days in SkyClan, but he waves the thought with a twitch of his whiskers. That Juno and this Juno are nothing alike. Where he had been soft, she is sharp; where he had been a healer, this cat will undoubtedly find herself in the pawsteps of a ripper's life. Perhaps she'll wear the weight of reinforced claws into battle, though only time will tell if she can keep up in this Clan. "Tell you what, I'll let you in. You'll probably be a fine ripper." With that he then turns, waving his banded tail to motion her to follow. "I'm Ryland, by the way—welcome to BloodClan."