Posts by Patchkit !?

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  • Plot with Patchy !?!

    Patchheart, often shortened to "Patchy" in OOC discussion, is a pretty tortoiseshell with pale green eyes and a lithe build and long tail. She doesn't have any powers at the moment, although this may be subject to change at any given time and without notice. She is open for:


      [li]Apprentices[/li]
      [li]Short-Term Love interests[/li]
      [li]Friend/Enemy Making[/li]
      [li]Litters (on certain occasions)[/li]
      [li]Adopting a child/children (more of an older sister than a mother)[/li]


    She is NOT open for:


      [li]Rape[/li]
      [li]Catmint Litters[/li]
      [li]Torture[/li]
      [li]Capture[/li]
      [li]Murder[/li]
      [li]Mates[/li]


    For anything that is not on these lists, please feel free to ask. :)

  • Is there a world you long to see far beyond the barricade? {HC@Border/OPEN}

    A challenge really wasn't what she was intending for her statement to sound like, and even though her brain wanted to correct that slip of the tongue, it also wouldn't let her. When Lancelot stopped right in front of her, Patchheart felt really small. Not just small, but impossibly tiny compared to the Siberian tiger. Despite Noirstar being the bigger animal here, she never really though of him being "big", as most of the time she saw him in his cat body and not the ursine. Now that the DarkClan leader was right up in front of her, it made a world of difference.


    Any notion of determination faded at that moment, replaced with the feeling of a stone in her gut. Had she just condemned her clan to yet another raid? She hoped not, but that feeling lingered still, and was only intensified by the fact that the tiger would only consider becoming neutral was if they handed over some of her clan mates. Her eyes turned towards the ground, and her ears flattened against her skull in humiliation and fear. She backed away a little bit before finally muttering, "We have nothing more to discuss."


    She turned her head towards Noirstar, waiting to see if he had anything to say. If he didn't, then they'd leave; plain and simple.

  • So long and thanks for all the fish {P/Sleenk} so sad it had to come to this.

    Patchheart felt really bad right about now. To put it bluntly, she had fucked up big time. The tortoiseshell had been trying to negotiate with DarkClan's leader, Lancelot, to see if they'd consider becoming neutral. Needless to say, it failed miserably, and she had a horrible feeling the anti-Clan would try and raid them soon. Did she know that for sure? No, but the feeling in her conscience was making her feel guilty. 'Way to go, running your mouth like that' she thought sourly.

  • i live my life inside a dream [private] only waking when i sleep

    Patchheart didn't say anything for a moment. It hurt to think about that night; the screaming, the yelling, the bitter words and the bitter tears. And to think none of it had carried over into this second chance, not that she could tell anyways. "Both of us said things we shouldn't have," she finally replied, "If anything, I should be saying sorry..."


    /school

  • i live my life inside a dream [private] only waking when i sleep

    The tortoiseshell got up and sat down next to her friend, but not close enough to make her uncomfortable. It was the kind of distance one sat at when they wanted to let the other person know you were there for them. Patchheart didn't like to see any of her friends so down or hurt, and it was obvious the night on the beach was so ething that would probably hurt for a long time to come. "Noma, listen to me," she said softly, "You didn't kill me; I'm right here, and I'm not going away any time soon."

  • FIRST STAR I SEE TONIGHT / private ; patchheart

    "I suppose," she muttered, taking a seat nearby. Was Patchheart expecting to have DarkClan become neutral at the drop of a hat? No, but she couldn't help but feel she'd ended up running her mouth a little too much. Really, she should've felt just a hair more optimistic, as neither of them had been physically harmed.

  • i live my life inside a dream [private] only waking when i sleep

    OOC: Patchy's a tortoiseshell now. ;)


    IC: Patchheart didn't say anything after that. There really wasn't anything to say that hadn't been said already, and any furthering of the conversation would've made it too sappy and lovey-dovey for either cat to stand. Instead, she decided to find something else to talk about. The first thing that came to mind was the evening sky; it was just at the right point to where there was a small ring of orange around the horizon, and yet almost every single star began to light up and glimmer as they were freed from the sun's oppressive light. After a few moments of silence, she murmured, "You know, it's very pretty out here...."

  • i live my life inside a dream [private] only waking when i sleep

    OOC: Yessss, feel the love Noma! Does it burn like hot coals? Does it!?


    IC: Patchheart didn't notice the brief glance Noma had stolen, but she probably wouldn't have thought anything of it even if she had. Even though she'd never admit it, there was something she felt between herself and the silver tabby. It wasn't friendship, like she initially thought. No, it was something small and subtle, but so much more than just being friends. She'd never tell, though; she knew about Noma's fear of love, and didn't want to set it off. No, she simply nodded and said, "You know, I sometimes wonder how many stars are up there...."

  • i live my life inside a dream [private] only waking when i sleep

    OOC: I love how Noma immediately jumps to the conclusion it was Catalina manipulating her emotions, even though she was genuinely apologetic for the incident after the philiophobia kicked in. XD


    IC: Patchheart flinched at her friend's reaction. It wasn't that the tabby had been aggressive or threatening, but the forcefulness behind the word "no" was enough in and of itself. The tortoiseshell's diagnosis, however, had not been a mistake. There was no doubt in her mind that Noma was feeling love....but towards who? She responded, her voice surprisingly shaky, "Is there anything else it could be?"


    /musedeath

  • MAYBE I DON'T LOVE YA ALL THAT MUCH / open ; drunk

    Patchheart sat down a slight bit aways from Riptide and Dacnomaniacalvictory, a small frown on her face as she heard the annoyed groans of protest coming out of Noirstar's den. The tortoiseshell had never witnessed one of the Monarch's intoxicated fits before now, so whatever events could possibly unfold were a mystery....


    /track

  • I Wish I Can Stay [Open; Joining] A Thousand Miles Away

    "Hello," Patchheart said, a small smile on her face. The tortoiseshell was on a walk just then, and happened to notice the two month old puppy sitting on the border. Her green eyes were kind, and her body lax. Sure, she was a Knight of HawkCpan, but that didn't mean she had to be on edge 100% of the time; after all, it was only a puppy that was here. "Is there something you need?" she asked.


    /museless track

  • i live my life inside a dream [private] only waking when i sleep

    [size=20pt]❤ Patchheart ❤[/size]
    17 Moons • Moderate • No kill/capture
    [fancypost bgcolor= transparent; border: 1px groove transparent;color: white;font-family: times new roman; font-size: 11px;]
    [hr]


    Akhenaten's death had, much like everyone else in the clan, had come as a surprise for Patchheart; an evil, vile surprise brought on by the universe, but a surprise nonetheless. What was no surprise, however, was how the tortoiseshell felt right about now--saddened was good way to describe it--and that she had mourned quietly on her own. No tears had flowed during that time, though that didn't mean she was indifferent towards the situation. Rather, she was too grief stricken and turmoiled on the inside to even want to cry. As she walked through the forest that composed a portion of HawkClan's territory, one thought was in her head the entire time: she never thanked him.


    Not once did she ever thank the lynx for what he did, and yet she was one who had the most to be thankful for. After being tortured and scarred by BloodClan, the lynx had worked frantically to save her; he stopped the bleeding, stopped the infections from spreading, and he had worked day and night during that long period of recovery to make sure she lived. What did he get in return? Nothing. Nothing but a spineless little bitch that couldn't even look her clan mates in the eyes; nothing but a scared, lonely little girl that killed herself because of all the fucked up shit in her life. She never once thanked him. That scared, cowardly little girl had never mustered the courage to say those two words that were causing so much havoc in her mind right now, even when she came back. Even when she was no longer afraid, when she was longer scared by the scarred monstrosity she had been, those thanks that were long overdue never came, and now it was too late.


    The pretty tortoiseshell laid down underneath a tree, coincidentally the same tree Dacnomaniacalvictory happened to be sitting in. She didn't notice her friend though. She didn't look or try to climb into the tree and sit next to the silver tabby. No, her pale green eyes--normally filled with so much life and joy--closed in bitter tears as she cried silently.


    [size=7pt]OOC: New fancy for Patch. Not sure I like the hearts though. :-\[/size]


    [hr]
    [hr]
    ...sleeping in the bright, colorful field of poppies, tears stained on her cheek in regret...
    [/fancypost]

  • Dear Mr. Queequeg you have been informed your life's been saved. (OPEN)

    [size=20pt]❤ Patchheart ❤[/size]
    17 Moons • Moderate • No kill/capture
    [fancypost bgcolor= transparent; border: 1px groove transparent;color: white;font-family: times new roman; font-size: 11px;]
    [hr]


    With all the real life stuff Gadzooks had to put up with recently--getting his driver's license, summer homework, finishing up the school year, etc.--he had allowed Patchheart to fall inactive as of late. Like the ventriloquist Jeff Dunahm does so often with his puppets, the two had a long, hard discussion about how being inactive a lot didn't make good Aristocrat material, and that she'd never be promoted if this stint of chronic inactivity was allowed to continue. So, with much reluctance, Zooks began to type out this very thread in an attempt to garner some sort of activity.


    With the fourth wall breaking finally over, Patchheart looked around camp idly for a little bit. Despite all the hubbub going on almost every day in HawkClan, there was hardly anything exciting or new going on. Much of the time, being "active" was just her clan mates performing menial tasks or lounging around idly with a preppy smile and an attitude so sugary sweet, it would out anyone into a diabetic coma just from the exposure. Sure, there were a few crabapples like Rae or Catalina, but the majority of the clan fell in the former category. Of course, these weren't Patchheart's thoughts being typed out right now, but Gadzooks's, so the fourth wall breaking has resumed for a little while longer than intended, but now it shall end completely.


    A small, bored sigh escaped the tortoiseshell's lips. It was obvious that she was bored, and feeling a good bit lazy at that. She'd slept in long past dawn that day, and despite her normal resolve to go hunting first thing after she woke up, the pretty femme still had yet to do so.


    [size=7pt]OOC: TEXT[/size]


    [hr]
    [hr]
    ...sleeping in the bright, colorful field of poppies, tears stained on her cheek in regret...
    [/fancypost]