Posts by Morrissey

[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 345px][justify][size=7pt][font=georgia]Morrissey quietly made his way over, not a sound to be made. He was hoping he could maybe get some good stuff to decorate his den with or atleast maybe a new comb for his hair. Either would do, but man, would that new comb be nice - his current one was loosing its teeth and bristles from old age. Not saying anything, he awaited the response to Sweetpaws question.

[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 345px][justify][size=7pt][font=georgia]"Name and business?" Morrissey nonchalantly questioned, suppressing a yawn. The male was feeling quite tired today. Tail tip flicking, he muttered under his breath, "I'm sure you know the drill." Well, it was common protocol clan-wide.

[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 345px][justify][size=7pt][font=georgia]"Morrissey," he introduced, pondering what to say about himself. Naturally the arrogant and rude cat just wanted to murmur something about not caring about Horizon's decoding abilities, but the tom had to remind himself to be atleast somewhat polite. "I live and breathe oxygen." He wasn't too pleasant.

Pushing up his glasses, Moz would conjure some question to ask. "Why did you want dual-membership?"

[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 345px][justify][size=7pt][font=georgia]"Mm, seems there's been a wave of joiners," he mentally observed, though he didn't find a problem with it. Just more faces to memorize. "Morrissey." A blunt impression, unlike Arcades; he didn't feel the need to go into much detail about himself or get too friendly.

[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 345px][justify][size=7pt][font=georgia]"Ah, new faces." He examined the femme, taking in all her facial features so he could identify her later on down the road. "Salutations. I'm Morrissey." Striking blue eyes stared from slightly above the frame of his glasses which rested a bit lower down his nose than usual. He looked like sassy librarian; oh well.

[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 345px][justify][size=7pt][font=georgia]Morrissey had been writing most of the day, working on his dark poems. Sometimes he'd sing them, so perhaps it was considered song-writing? Both were closely related, but oh well. Sitting outside his stone hut, he was finishing a few segments to one of his works. The segments weren't in much order though; his thought process was a bit unusual, parts of the poetry mixed up, the beginning stanzas being worked on after the middle and the last being, well, last, and so on. Several lines had been scribbled and edited, and some numbers by each stanza telling the true sequence had been replaced.

On another sheet, he was rewriting what he had on the heavily edited paper, this time keeping things cleaner however still jumbled stanza wise.

Park the car at the side of the road 1
You should know
Time's tide will smother you
And I will too

I wish I could laugh 3
But that joke isn't funny anymore
It's too close to home
And it's too near the bone
It's too close to home
And it's too near the bone
More than you'll ever know

Kick them when they fall down 4
Kick them when they fall down

I've seen this happen in other people's lives
And now it's happening in mine. 6

It was dark as I drove the point home
And on cold leather seats. 5
Well, it suddenly struck me
I just might die with a smile on my face, after all

One of the stanzas had been missing, tucked away on some other sheet of paper. It was the first one he had scribbled down, possibly explaining why it was separated from the others. Morrissey bit his lip, thinking intently as his eyes went back and forth from behind his glasses as he read lines over and over again, or going up and down as he read the whole thing from start to finish in the right order.

After one final look through, he took a break from writing, getting up onto his paws and stretching, curling his toes. Today was rather slow but atleast productive in regards to the writing process.

[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 345px][justify][size=7pt][font=georgia]/ hey guys, I'll be making the ingredient round-up thread tomorrow!! sorry for taking so long

[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 345px][justify][size=7pt][font=georgia]Morrissey was caught mid-stretch, holding the position for a second as he looked up at the two who were addressing him. Both were good company and were perhaps the only few he considered friends here in BlizzardClan so far, so his typical, set and serious face brightened up slightly as he summoned his small smile.

"Mm? Just doing some writing. Was about to load things up and go inside, but that can wait," he informed them, letting his muscles loosen as he returned to regular posture. Giving Hakunakit a brief glare from his attempts to peek over his shoulder, Moz began to carefully fold the few sheets of paper. "You could of just asked to see, you know. Anyways, back to what I was saying - that can wait, unless you wish to come inside. It's mighty hot after all. Escape the heat." The cool shade of the hut would be pretty relieving.

[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 345px][justify][size=7pt][font=georgia]welcome back!! B^)

[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 345px][justify][size=7pt][font=georgia]Morrissey didn't see anything wrong with city; lad was originally from Manchester. From the city but never got the heavy accent - the English sound was barely evident when he spoke. Little bit of an Irish twang was mingled in as well. In short, Moz had Irish blood but an English heart, really. He would have been thrilled to know he wasn't the only previous city-dweller, even if it was more so on the skirts of one.

"I am Morrissey," the tom introduced himself, examining the German shepherd. They were so large and well-built, made him feel even more fragile and scrawny. The feline structure was meant to be under careful circumstances, easily fractured. A shame it was. Moz couldn't help but wonder what Constable would think of him and his odd appearance; his thick rimmed glasses and once small mane now cut into a quiff-y, messy pompadour. He was certainly mutated, to say the least. Even his eyes were - their blue hue were unnatural for a solid black cat. Oh well.

[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 345px][justify][size=7pt][font=georgia]/ if you are on mobile it could just be because it reloaded too many times!!

Morrissey had came upon the scene rather late, almost of healing done and certain faces in the crowd starting to advise Arcade what to do. At that moment, as he looked at all those faces, he couldn't help but feel some sort of anger at himself for not being present until now. He hadn't been one of those faces. Some of them weren't even ones he recognized. Arcade was perhaps the closest person to him that he'd met so far in his stay at BlizzardClan, and strangers were already doing a better job that him at being there during his time of need.

Not only was he irritated at himself, mind roaring with thoughts of scolding towards his own self bouncing on the walls of his skull, but he actually felt pretty bad for not being there. Yeah, he knew he wouldn't have made much of difference besides maybe sit there and be horrible emotional support or something as he sure couldn't heal - the feline couldn't tell berries from a dingle berries (aka little animal droppings). But days before Arcade was telling him all this personal stuff and things about his past. He had, what Moz would like to think, confided in him. That was a pretty special thing to do, right? Morrissey wasn't too sure what to call Arcade in the past, but he figured he could finally agree on the term "friend" after feeling all the stuff he was now.

Heck, when was the last time he felt some real, true worry? Besides that little bit he felt when he lost his glasses in a lake a few days ago — whom mister Gannon here was also present during and helping search despite not being able to swim — he couldn't really recall anytime recent. Biting his lip, he figured he'd stop staring and join the others surrounding.

"Keep your cool, Moz," he had to remind himself. "Mm, greetings Arcade." The tom was so jumbled and conflicted on what to say, honestly. His contradicting behavior kept on giving him reasons not to say this and that. Finally he just spoke whatever came to his head first. "You look terrible."

Luckily he made it sound teasing enough to where he didn't come off as some huge asshole (even though he sort of was one) to all these people he mostly didn't know too well. Morrissey summoned a weaker version of his small smile. Man was he smooth.

/ aaaaay some ok muse :^0

[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 345px][justify][size=7pt][font=georgia]Morrissey always had a strange liking for flowers; they were harmless and innocent and pretty to look at, too, unlike other things. Plus the color of them just really popped in Morrissey's head. There as no reason to keep him from padding over and imvestigating what Yui was up to, so the male padded over, wondering what she was doing. He had never seen a flower crown before. Moz lowered himself down to take a seat, waiting for Arcade's question to receive its answer.

[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 345px][justify][size=7pt][font=georgia]Morrissey approached, however said nothing. Perhaps it was because he didn't know what to say, I maybe it was because Mythpaw had been asked the same question two times already. What was the point in joining in on the poking and prodding? Tiling his head down, the tom bit on his cheek.

[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 345px][justify][size=7pt][font=georgia]Morrissey decided he'd save the compliments for after he found something that he wanted. Or atleast verbally giving one; as he looked at some of the books, he nodded his head in agreement with the others, but he was really laying attention to what they were saying and was more focused on the reading material at hand.

He found one book that caught his eyes about half way in a stack, but he continued to search odd maybe another. Then he'd hit the ribbon next perhaps. Moz had that an intense look like a couponing mom had when she was looking for deals or something, intently searching. Goof ball.

[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 345px][justify][size=7pt][font=georgia]AlohaClan? Morrissey personally never heard of them, but he was digging the name. Made him think the cats of it wore grassy skirts and coconuts for a second, though. He hoped Feliks or someone else would accept the invitation, since he figured some cats in the clan like Arcade or something would enjoy attending.

[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 345px][justify][size=7pt]"This is where you guys can get the ingredients for soups," Morrissey informed them, motioning towards the herbs and small abandoned garden that was still producing veggies and some fruits. There was also flowers, maybe someone could use those.

The clearing had everything anyone would ever need for their soups, but who would use their ingredients the best for one? Only time could tell.

/ don't sticky please :^))

[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 345px][justify][size=7pt][font=georgia]sCREAMING I JUST SAW THIS RIP
it's so cute though and the hair is rad!! *w*

I'm up for him being traced digitally B^))

[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 345px][justify][size=7pt][font=georgia]they could go on an adventure after I fORGOT TO REPLY TO THE LAST THREAD RIP

[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 345px][justify][size=7pt][font=georgia]im thinking let's do this B^)
idk what the adventure would be though!! maybe explore some of the other islands or something idek

but I can make :^))

[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 345px][justify][size=7pt][font=georgia]"ARCADE," Morrissey called, "ARCADE." The tom had been searching for him for about five minutes now. He was bored off all these old sights he'd already seen - he wanted to find more new stuff and scout the other islands. Except he didn't want to go by himself, so why not help recovering Arcade get some fresh air and drag him along? They could be like, the new, feline version of Lewis and Clark. "I'm pretty sure [i]I'd be Lewis,"[/i] Moz thought. He couldn't help but ponder on about things. In reality he'd probably be neither of them since he wasn't actually born in America, but oh well.

"Ugh, where are you, Crip? Did you die from your injuries?" It was a bit of a heartless jab, but he was starting to grow irritated! What kind of guy with the big, radar-like ears of a cat would be unable to hear him? Or maybe he was choosing not to hear him? Morrissey certainly hoped not - just thinking about that made him chew on his cheek out of annoyance.