Posts by Patchkit !?

Out of all the places Patchheart was reluctant to go to, the beautiful shoreline that HawkClan was so very proud of was one of them; quite simply, there were too many bad memories there for her to enjoy spending time there. Nearly drowning in the ocean as a kit, though traumatic for sure, was not one of the reasons she avoided the golden-white sands--Sirencall's death on a nearby cliff, and the confrontation with Dacnomanicalvictory in the afterlife were the main culprits behind that. They took the pretty landscape and turned into a inhospitable wasteland of emotional unease. And yet, here she was sitting down and staring into the sea as it reflected the noontime sun, swishing the sand around with her paw absent mindedly as if she hadn't a care in the world.

However, the pretty tortoiseshell had so many cares in the world to deal with right now, the biggest one being the aforementioned silver tabby. She had promised never to leave Noma--that she'd always be there and that she wouldn't be going anywhere anytime soon--yet she had walked away from the Aristocrat the night before. It had hurt so much to do so; every step farther stabbed a knife of guilt farther into her heart. What hurt the most was how her frond had done nothing to stop her, philiophobia running so rampant and wild that she couldn't even muster the courage to say even a peep. Deep down, Patchheart hated her friend for allowing her fear to cripple and maim relationships, especially one so vital to the tortoiseshell as that. Despite her kind attitude and gentle outlook on life, she had no friends to rely on other than the silver tabby.

A frustrated sigh escaped her lips, slapping some sand off to the side. Stupid philiophobia; stupid Noma; stupid everything. So much in her life had just become stupid or pointless now; even though she'd never admit it, that's how she truly felt as of late.

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Patchheart laid down under a tree and let the silent, bitter and sorrow filled tear roll down her face. Just like that, she had left her one friend alone to suffer and rot in the storm of emotions the silver tabby so desperately hid from the world, and in the process had condemned herself to that same fate. The tortoiseshell had no one's shoulder to cry on now--philiophobia had created a wedge between them, and she hated it. She wanted that fear to be gone, to just go away and never come back so that Dacnomanicalvictory didn't have to suffer through a panic attack every time they locked gazes. She didn't want to feel that pang of guilt that stabbed her in the heart when her friend shriveled into nothing whenever she spoke.

No matter what, though, it didn't matter what she wanted. The Aristocrat she had left behind was her own person, that made her own decisions and allowed that fear to control her, to use her like a puppet and toy with her whenever the ones she held dear came close and tried to show even the smallest gesture of affection. Deep down, it made Patchheart sick to think that Dacnomaniacalvictory allowed herself to be manipulated by her own mind. It didn't matter, though, what she thought, or felt, or wanted; not at all.

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Patchheart had never really celebrated her birthday, given the fact that she didn't know exactly what day she was born and all that good junk. Still, she was happy for the six month old pup. "Happy birthday, Tristen," she mewed.

[size=7pt]OOC: My muse is dead because I have to mow the lawn....btw, can Patchy mentor Tristen? xD[/size]

HawkClan's was such a hub of activity and drama that Patchheart didn't feel comfortable speaking out or being noticed. Quite simply, it was excruciating to try and keep up with all the new and old faces she didn't know or hadn't seen in a while. Of course, there were other things that disturbed her, like Noirstar's permitting of torturing prisoners. Sure, it was more than fair to do to anti-clans--she herself knew what it was to be tormented and abused by them, but that didn't mean she was going to become a sadist and peel people's eyelids off or disfigure their faces.

Often times, she found herself staring into a small meadow of flowers in her clan's territory. It wasn't an overly large or encompassing field, but it was still pretty with all of the summer blooms. Reds, blues, oranges, and purples all sprinkled throughout a vast sea of green. Aside from taking a walk in the vast forest, this was one of her only ways to relax, and that's exactly what she was trying to do; she was trying to simply let it go for a little bit and not have a herd of sheep coming after her to talk, not that anyone did in the first place...but still, it could be a little irksome at times.

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HawkClan's was such a hub of activity and drama that Patchheart didn't feel comfortable speaking out or being noticed. Quite simply, it was excruciating to try and keep up with all the new and old faces she didn't know or hadn't seen in a while. Of course, there were other things that disturbed her, like Noirstar's permitting of torturing prisoners. Sure, it was more than fair to do to anti-clans--she herself knew what it was to be tormented and abused by them, but that didn't mean she was going to become a sadist and peel people's eyelids off or disfigure their faces.

Often times, she found herself staring into a small meadow of flowers in her clan's territory. It wasn't an overly large or encompassing field, but it was still pretty with all of the summer blooms. Reds, blues, oranges, and purples all sprinkled throughout a vast sea of green. Aside from taking a walk in the vast forest, this was one of her only ways to relax, and that's exactly what she was trying to do; she was trying to simply let it go for a little bit and not have a herd of sheep coming after her to talk, not that anyone did in the first place...but still, it could be a little irksome at times knowing that it could happen at any second.

[size=7pt]OOC: Here's that thread I promised to make. xD[/size]

There wasn't much to do out on the beach, and it didn't take the tortoiseshell's RPer to think of reasons why so many people flocked to its soft, pearly shores when there were so many jarring right out at him. For one thing, it always seemed to be sunny on these beautiful sands--the weather was always warm and inviting, and the finely ground earth that composed the shoreline absorbed that heat and sent it right back to the cats and canines and creatures walking above, this creating a perfect place to nap and play. However, it should be valuable to notice that it was never too to cause one to jump around on their paws like a ninny and uselessly exclaim curses at the hot ground. Of course, the ocean itself provided an exciting attraction for most as well; the cool, crystal blue waters completed the almost perfect paradise setting that HawkClan had in its territory. While the water certainly wasn't fit to drink, it was a good way to practice swimming, fishing, or any other variety of activities that may involve the use of maneuvering ones body in the water.

Others, like Patchheart, didn't take advantage of these sorts of things. She wasn't one for idly napping around the beach, nor did she like fishing or playing games in the water, she really didn't even like sitting around. No, she simply took walks along the shores thinking about all of ironic things that happened to make the world seem just a little shittier to her than most. She lived in a Pro-Clan that allowed several Anti-Clan practices, such as torture, for one. And while Noirstar had said they would not turn "Anti" while he was still leader, she had doubts as to how long that would last. There was also the fact that her best friend loved her, and was philiophobic--before this revelation, she could have talked to her about anything, and now it was impossible to approach her without starting a panic attack. Really, life would have seemed like a piece of shit had she looked at it with an entirely pessimistic point of view, and to an extent it did. However, after going through the afterlife once already, and experiencing the hell it truly was, it was better than nothing. So, instead of lingering on these things and letting them sour and become irreversibly rotten in the back of her head, she simply took walks and let her mind roam free for an hour or two.

She had been on one of these walks when she noticed a cougar with a sword laying on the beach. He was not a complete stranger to her, as she had seen him in and around camp quite a lot over the past month or two, but they had never really gotten a chance to talk or introduce themselves proper. With that being said, he looked stressed as of right now. "Is everything alright?" she asked, her voice careful and gentle.

[size=7pt]OOC: I have never watched Bleach before, so this may sound like a stupid question...is there anything that would be considered the opposite of a Hollow? [/size]

At his first statement, Patchheart titled her head questioningly. It was apparent that something was in the cougar's mind, since nobody would have their brow furrowed in such a manner if they didn't. Still, if he wanted to avoid the subject with an evasive lie, so be it. Loathe to admit it, she had done the same with Tristen when he asked how her life was in HawkClan, so she couldn't call him out on it if she wanted to. However, her pale green eyes followed the cougar's face as he sat up and asked her name. To be quite honest, it wasn't a surprise most didn't know her name. Despite being perfectly able to carry on conversation with her clan mates, her role player was a lazy ass that didn't like to make open threads. Being a wall flower, though, wasn't exactly a bad thing. It kept her out of the drama and turmoil of everyday life, and it gave her plenty of breathing room from her overly social clan mates. Back to the situation at hand, she replied, "That's alright. My name's Patchheart."

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One could call a walk on the beach relaxing; it certainly was for Patchheart. The soft, warm sand beneath her toes and the gentle roar of the tide seemed to just make her problems melt away, even for just the brief hour or two she spent there. It allowed her to simply let her mind roam, to allow her thoughts to go somewhere other than her current lot of problems. So, in a way, she was here to relax. Of course, the cougar in front of her was probably referring to the kind of relaxing that involved lounging around and sunning oneself, which was perfectly fine and acceptable, as well. "You could say that," she mewed, letting herself sit down with her tail idly hanging about.

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Much like Ichigo, Patchheart wanted to see peace between the Pro- and Anti-Clans. It was a desire, however, that would probably never come to be, and she accepted that. That being said, she was also generally a pacifist, and preferred to talk rather than fight. It was something that was in the very back corner of her mind constantly, but as of right now it seemed to vanish completely. Maybe it was the scenery, or just the fact she was having a conversation that had made it go away. Whatever, the case there was a question she needed to answer. "I've lived in HawkClan my entire life," she stated.

[size=7pt]OOC: Sorry for the suckish post. This whole waiting business is killing me. xD[/size]

http://warriorcatsrpg.com/index.php?topic=1643132.0

I sent you an invite a while ago, but I guess you didn't get it. xD

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Patchheart's eyes widened in surprise as she heard her name called. She was an Aristocrat now? The disbelief on her face was evident, but it quickly turned into a shy, modest smile as the idea sunk into her head. After a moment or two, she finally managed to stutter, "T-thank you, Noirstar."

And then Dacnomanicalvictory walked up, touching her cheek with her own as she did. They hadn't spoken since that night, but it didn't change anything. She was happy to be able to work alongside her friend, and that's all that mattered right now. "Thank you, Noma," she whispered back, "I'm glad too."

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To be frank, Patchheart was really happy right now. She had just been promoted to Aristocrat the other day, and while she was still getting used to the title and the responsibilities it held, it felt good to be recognized by her clan mates. Of course, she'd be working with Dacnomaniacalvictory a lot more now that she had the position, but that was a set of thoughts for another time. Right now, she needed to get her head on straight. She wasn't bouncing off the walls like a little girl in the middle of a sugar rush, nor was she experiencing a massive personality change because of her newfound, if comparatively minor, power in the clan. In fact, it was just the opposite: she remained as quiet and contained as normal, and, if anything, she actually rarely brought up her promotion in conversation.

It was an odd experience, being promoted and suddenly being in the spotlight for several days after while everyone flocked to say their congratulations and what not. The tortoiseshell simply smiled and said thank you whenever it happened, probably appearing very meek and shy in the process. If one looked past that shell of normality, however, they'd see the newfound glow of pride in her pale green eyes that hadn't been there prior. For right now, though, she was simply going about regular chores anyone could have done, as evidenced by the small rabbit in her jaws as she was coming into camp from a hunting trip.

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Patchheart looked up as everyone started saying 'hello' or some other greeting to her. In a timely manner, she dropped the rabbit onto the freshkill pile and looked back at them. "Hello everyone," she mewed, "How are you doing today?"

[size=7pt]OOC: I was out of the house all day today. xD[/size]

To say the least, Patchheart was furious--and there were few things that ever got her to the level she was now. She had seen the bit where Nya had hit Tristen's head on a rock and scurried out of the territory, and it broke her heart. No genuine mother figure would do that to someone they considered family. When it came to her opinion on the matter, she was in full agreement with Tumultdusk.

[size=7pt]OOC: Tristen and Patchy need a thread NOW! [/size]

Unlike Noirstar, Patchheart had not yet experienced the full weight of being a high position or the responsibilities it would entail. Yes, she knew what her job was in the clan as an Aristocrat, and she accepted that there would be things in her path that would cause stress. However, neither of those things had taken their toll on the tortoiseshell yet, although chances were it wouldn't be long until they did. Right now, she didn't hate her job; in fact, she really didn't like much either, although this was more from a lack of performing it for any respectable amount of time. As she padded into camp, the tortoiseshell noticed the tuxedo frowning and drawing lines in the dirt. It wasn't hard to see the amount of stress the leader must have been under, especially nowadays. "Noirstar," she mewed, "Is everything alright?"

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Patchheart padded over, noticing the she-cat by the border. Curiosity filled her eyes as she sat down, examining the femme carefully. She wasn't being judgemental or trying to make her feel uncomfortable, but the tortoiseshell was just being safe. While she did so, she mewed, "May I ask your name and business?"

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"Welcome to HawkClan, then" Patchheart mewed, giving a nod to Goldenrod, and a slight glance over to Silverstrike. "If you'd like, I can show you around."

[size=7pt]OOC: Ugh...my muse is shot. Furflower, Patchy's an aristocrat now. xD[/size]

Already there. x3

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