[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 370px][justify][size=7pt]Well, there was nothing much to this joiner's story. Cyberpunk had grown sick - so sick - of wandering. Of being by herself, of being alone. It was true the ebony felidae embraced her solitary persona, but the loneliness was beginning to gnaw at her core.
So here she stood, on an invisible, yet-to-be marked border, tail flicking placidly as she waited for one being or another to come greet her, to say hello.
[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 370px][justify][size=7pt]Fascinating. Cyberpunk hadn't intended to encounter real-life, living, breathing, blood-pumping creatures. She thought this place was an empty shell.
The agile felidae stood gracefully, rising level to gaze evenly into Highhopes' eyes; a quiet challenge. She had beat the others to speaking, and now Cyber would speak to her, and only to her.
"Cyberpunk. Joining." Her voice was a solid but held a hush quality; a ring of sound that disrupted the still air. Deciding that this Clan may resemble that wretched BloodClan, Cyberpunk lowered her gaze to the earth in a silent movement of submissiveness, not that she was submissive. Acting - it was all the acting. Much easier to get away with things if they thought you were meek.
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[fancypost bgcolor=; borderwidth=0px; width: 350px; text-align: justify; color: white; font-size: 8pt; line-height: 100%][hr][sup]name | cyberpunk xerses
nicknames | cyber, cy
age | one year
gender | female
sexuality | asexual
relationship status | single
alliance | the guardians of elysia
rank | civilian/warrior
appearance | solid black feline with color-changing eyes
personality | quiet, reserved, spunky, fierce, solitary, sarcastic, curious
parents | unknown
siblings | unknown
offspring | unknown
powers | eye-color manipulation
[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 370px][justify][size=7pt]Someone else cut in before Highhopes could respond, and Cyperpunk cut her gaze to him; vivid evergreen oculars molding into a sharp, icy blue. "No tour. No questions. Thank you." The femme spoke with electronic curtness, bobbing her sleek head in Emerson's direction before locating Mark and offering him a quick nod, too. Were they done here, then? Was that it? Could she leave?
[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 370px][justify][size=7pt]"Hello." Cyberpunk's curt, sharp reply cut through the air as the ebony felidae herself followed the sound's lead from the shadows. She did not offer more conversation; merely sat down and stared at Lancelot with an uncanny focus. No "what's your name" or "how are you doing". Just pure, unblinking staring.
[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 370px][justify][size=7pt]A voice. It did not cut through the air like hers did, but rather reverberated its way to Cyberpunk on a swift, brief walk.
The femme was standing in front of Margaret in record time, her eyes seemingly unable to decide to stay green or yellow. "Joining, if I heard correctly?" Of course Cyber heard correctly; she couldn't remember a time when her acute senses had ever failed.
"Auto-accepted, Margaret. Welcome."
[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 370px][justify][size=7pt]A meeting, was it? Wow, the word meeting just sent excited shivers down Cyberpunk's spine.
Sarcasm.
And yet the felidae attended anyways, slipping through the crowd like a sleek fish in a river and finding herself a seat in the very front row with a few well-aimed elbow jabs. There. Nice and center - right where she liked it. The girl allowed herself briefly to wonder what the topic of this meeting would be.
[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 370px][justify][size=7pt]threads with the babe
[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 370px][justify][size=7pt]The girl had never gotten the concept of swords, and here was one chick weilding one. Ah, well, she'd try to ignore it. Slipping up beside her Clanmate, Cyberpunk lay a metal paw gently on Christian's shoulder to hold her back.
"Now, Christian, I don't think we should be scaring away wanderers like that. Hello, stranger, and welcome to the Guardians of Elysia. I apologize on behalf of my Clan about the uncalled for hostility. We mean no harm, and on that note I'm afraid you're going to have to sheath the sword. Wouldnt want it stabbing anyone, now. It's very cool, by the way." Cyber's voice was toneless and empty, void of emotion as she stared solidly back at Winterspaw, lying through her teeth about the sword comment. She still hated swords.
"Now, if I may probe, what is your name and business on our humble territory? Do you need help? Would you like to join?"
[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 370px][justify][size=7pt]"Greetings, my Clanmates. What are we all up to on this fine spring day?" Her words were kind, but her eyes were as cold as sheets of ice and her voice was hollow and low. Cyberpunk took a seat with the gentle scratch of her metal plates grinding.
[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 370px][justify][size=7pt]"Is there a reason we've all gathered here in the midst of a nasty storm, not to mention in the wee hours of the morning?" Cyberpunk inquired blankly as her metal form slipped from the shadows. Now, of course she had her reasons: her body was made of smooth, overlapping metal plates, which meant that natural elements were only pests; and she had trained herself to run on only four hours of sleep a day for a whole week as long as she recharged with a full twelve hours on the weekend.
[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 370px][justify][size=7pt]"Present." Cyberpunk's hollow voice cut through the air as the felidae herself approached Isenguard with hushed footfalls. Who was this? The male carried a scent the girl didn't recognize. Unblinkingly, she suddenly remembered the usual statements required in such a situation.
"Name and business with the Guardians and Elysia, if you please, sir."
[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 370px][justify][size=7pt]"Congratulations." Cyberpunk's low voice was lost in the sea of excited calls, as it usually was. The robot stood calmly, observing those Emilia called out. In truth, Cyber had no idea what they were promoted to,nor what the ranks were, but it sounded important.
[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 370px][justify][size=7pt]A meet... And greet. Hmm. Cyberpunk thought she had a vague idea of what that was. Following the other's example, the robot would utter, "Cyberpunk, two years old, I like mechanics and... Hunting. That's it. Don't call me Cyber."
ooc | yooo I'm nova and before we start let's say first I'm mentally ill, with anxiety and depression and a whole lot more I don't wanna share, so I'm not v stable and because of that Cyberpunk has mood swings. She can be spunky, playful, solitary, any of that shit. I've been on here for two or three years I think? This is a side account off my main one,, I like to draw and watch cr1tikal. I play Dalliance in GraveClan and Monemus in ColouredClan so I'm gonna try to be active with all my babies but uhh that's it so. Yeah
[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 370px][justify][size=7pt]Sparring. Oh, finally, something she was good at.
Cyberpunk approached Lyndsy with a crack of her metal joints, shifting green eyes to a deep gray. "I'll do it."
[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 370px][justify][size=7pt]wow everything is so fast
sits and watches
[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 370px][justify][size=7pt]"Ah, yes, of course," Cyberpunk rumbled tonelessly. She deliberately looked hard at each member in turn before her gaze settled on Emerson. "Some... one." As if she'd leave. It took much more than rainy nights and hours of sitting, numbed by the cold, to drive Cyberpunk away.
"If we're counting three as someone then I assume one more wouldn't do much, would it now?" Without invitation, Cyberpunk set herself down, half bathed in shadow.
[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 360px; font-family: arial; letter-spacing: 1px;][size=8]GUYS IM GONNA REMOLD CYBERS PERSONALITY, SO WHEN YOU HEAR THE NAME CYBERPUNK WHAT PERSONA DO YOU THINK OF?
[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 370px][justify][size=7pt]whee ok I'm . Changing her idk how but I am
[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 370px][justify][size=7pt]Multiple personality disorder. Indeed, it was nasty thing, twisting your cheerful best friend into a dark and violent being. And, it happened to be the very same disorder Cyberpunk suffered from.
It usually took something traumatic for her to switch to her "other side", also known as the side she was born with. At age seven months, someone had killed her own sister before her eyes. That had been what changed her into monotonous, blank Cyberpunk that all of Elysia knew. She had shut herself off from the outside world in fear of switching bank to the sailor-mouthed, sarcastic other side. And now, she had returned to the world of the living. It was only a matter of time.
Her time ran up when Cyber was on a walk, completely and utterly minding her own business. The only sound on her peaceful stroll was the mechanic click of her metal joints. And then came the bear.
It was angry, and it was a mother, frantically searching for her lost cubs. Cyber had nothing to do with the cubs, but the bear didn't seem to mind as a roar ripped from its throat and it barreled full speed at the small feline.
Cyberpunk did not panic, did not scream, did not cry and did not pee her pants. She turned towards the nearest tree and, simply, climbed as fast as she had ever climbed before. There she sat for three hours, claws digging into the bark as the bear threw her body at the trunk and tried to unlatch her. Somewhere in that three hours, she changed.
"Fucking asshole!" The girl growled as she picked her way gingerly down the pine once the bear had gone. "The motherfucker tried to kill me!"
