Posts by Vio

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If you'd like some free FeralFront memorabilia to look back on fondly, see this thread from Dynamo (if this message is still here, we still have memorabilia): https://feralfront.com/thread/2669184-free-feralfront-memorabilia/.

  • wistful thinking - joining

    [align=center][fancypost bgcolor=;border: 0px; overflow: auto; width: 475px;][justify]The moorish-headed feline traipsed in the darkness in the direction of what he could only make out to be the silhouette of some big-ass square shooting out of the ground and into the sky. Vio still didn't know where he was taking himself, or what he was doing with his life. He still didn't know what was going on inside of that thing on top of his neck. He still didn't know if what he was seeing was real or if he was just dawdling around in a false reality. The waking world was like a dream to him; nothing made sense. He didn't make sense. So, impetuous as he was, Violentmind shadowed that big-ass square shooting out of the ground and into the sky en route to nowhere. Was it moving, or was he just drunk with insanity?


    He moved at a fairly slow pace, taking in absolutely nothing. At some point, without much thought, he ensconced himself in the grass surrounding the square thing and drowned himself in that nothingness. He stared absently at the array of flowers that were planted all around him, once he noticed that they were there. They only manifested themselves as varying tones of black and white in the darkness, but, to him, they owned some sort of beauty.


    For all one knows, he was just expecting someone to materialize in front of his face and bring him home. What was that? I don't know.

  • wistful thinking - joining

    [align=center][fancypost bgcolor=;border: 0px; overflow: auto; width: 475px;][justify]It took a minute for flower-boy to realize that someone was talking to him. He was slow at channeling things, I guess.


    Removing his attention from the plants, he would squint towards the direction of where the voice seemed to be coming from, until his eyes eventually focused on the source of the sound. A blurry figure. To all intents and purposes, impassive and ostensibly uncaring. Violentmind was equally impassive and uncaring.


    What can we do for you?, it asked. Well, leastwise it didn't ask who he was, or Vio would've just stared.
    "I don't know," he deadpanned, before he had the time to think of something better to say. Helpful. At least he was on the level.

  • wistful thinking - joining

    [align=center][fancypost bgcolor=;border: 0px; overflow: auto; width: 475px;][justify]Poof. There were two more people.


    When Violentmind looked up, he managed to catch the eyes of the first one. Her gaze was void. Absolutely empty.
    "Am I drunk, or just sleep-deprived?" he asked himself aloud, zoning out into space as he thought, as if he might have found an answer there in the ether. He knew that he didn't have an interest in alcohol; Vio strongly felt that he should be the one to face his own problems, and not tune them out by poisoning his body until it collapsed on the ground and woke up with no recollection of what he had just done to himself in advance. (No matter how much he wanted the world to go away for just one night). He was only surviving in this thing that was him by the narrowest margins.


    Sleep-deprived? He couldn't call to mind the last time he had slept. Or, perhaps this some kind of lucid dream, and nothing was real. Violentmind thought better than to reply honestly again, so, he would give in to his surmises. Something to work with.
    "It's been awhile since I've slept, I guess." He made sure to sound believable. It was a truthful response in some measure, even if he wasn't certain, wasn't it?


    Then, a different blurry figure asked for his name. Vio gave him a look like that was the most bizarre and anomalous thing anyone had ever questioned him for. A name gave you an identity. No one had ever told him what his was. Weren't people supposed to tell you who you were? Or were you supposed to figure that out yourself? He hadn't. Was he expected to know? In spite of everything, these people didn't, otherwise they wouldn't have asked. He could lie and say he was the most stable man alive and it wouldn't be considered a lie because he had no idea who he was. He could be anyone and anything he wanted to be.
    "I'm Violentmind," he said. Apparently, that was what had slipped, because his roleplayer was ultimately the only person who knew who he was, and he couldn't find a fitter explanation than that Vio had no idea what he was talking about. Whaaat.

  • * ☆. LITHIUMCLAN'S 189TH CHAT THREAD

    [align=center][fancypost bgcolor=;border: 0px; overflow: auto; width: 475px;][justify]i feel u


    it takes me 842678 years to write some posts and most of the time i dont like how they turn out but i end up posting them anyway


    garbage now accessible to all to assess and appreciate


    that says something about me tbh

  • dearly beloved - open

    [align=center][fancypost bgcolor=;border: 0px; overflow: auto; width: 475px;][justify]Violentmind.


    Who's that?


    Me?


    Only now do I finally have an identity; the fact of being who I am. That's what a name gives you, right? An identity? I own it now?


    All the same, I still don't really know who I am.


    Violentmind is only the jumble of letters that I let spill from my mouth that night. I wasn't even thinking. I don't even know what it means. Insane.


    Had I panicked?


    If I was honest, I wouldn't have had an answer. I would've just stared into his eyes.


    Because, who did I think I was? I made myself up on the spot.


    I hadn't known anyone before them. I hadn't even known this thing that's me.


    All I was doing was counting the days, doing whatever the fuck it wanted me to do. Does that make sense? It? The thing controlling me?


    I practically didn't even exist until that moment.


    I was a nobody.


    A stranger to myself.


    [size=8]Violentmind was preambulating across the snowed-over territory that he would now have to train his mind to associate with a place of refuge. A permanent place of refuge. His home.


    Don't move. Stop looking.


    He lacked a substantial connection with it, and he didn't exactly feel safe, but, apparently, this is what he'd been looking for all his life. He didn't feel a need to leave, but, instead, he felt like he belonged here. Whatever that meant. And there were people. He would get himself known here. In people's memories, he could live on forever. As Violentmind.


    In the daytime, he could now see that what he thought was 'some big-ass square shooting out of the ground and into the sky' was actually a twoleg hospital, crumbling away in its senescence. Four stories. Plants boxes visible and an open ceiling at the top. Other than that, Vio hadn't taken the time to get familiar with its interior. Maybe he should have.


    Beyond everything, the weather was bitterly cold, he had only begun to realize, after drowning himself in his thoughts. Thinking about it made it worse. What was he doing out here?


    /made his busy mind in tinier text bc god damn that took a lot of space

  • memory - open

    [align=center][fancypost bgcolor=;border: 0px; overflow: auto; width: 475px;][justify][size=8]Song: Memory - Ib[hr][size=8]He sat in silence in his room, observing the outside world from a small beaten window at the opposite end of his hospital cot. The bed was fairly stiff, but he didn't seem to mind. The pane of glass he was looking through was blanketed in a thick cloud of tiny water droplets and was fogged up from the cold weather, obscuring visibility; there was almost no point in using it at the time. Still and all, he could see his reflection with it. A short-furred, moorish-headed, black-and-white cat. Ungracefully thin and tall, being more bones than flesh, but otherwise appearing decent. Which was odd, with how he hadn't eaten or slept for what seemed like a lifetime. He had lost track of the days. It was a mystery how his heart was still beating; his time should've ended long ago. He stared into his eyes. They were void. Absolutely empty. The spitting image of a girl he had seen at his joining.


    The walls of his dorm remained the drearily dull off-white color the humans had decided to make them in the past life. The paint was chipping and falling apart. He killed time picking at it, and staring at the ceiling, drowning himself in his own garbled thoughts. He thought mostly of the pretty gray-scale flowers he had seen the night he had arrived at this unfamiliar place. They only manifested themselves as varying tones of black and white in the darkness, but they owned some sort of beauty, in his mind. He wondered what their real colors were. They were like jewels to him. He was in love with them. He imagined them in ornate designs. He imagined them in a rainbow of colors, with blues, purples, and reds being his favorite. Pretty, pretty flowers.


    He sat there, wrecked with insanity, a steady, intent gaze fixed on that stranger in the window, losing himself in his own little dreamscape inside of the one mind he could not make sense of no matter how hard he tried, which was his own. The door to his room was open, as if welcoming visitors into his dreamland. Was this real, or was I living in some fabricated world; some false reality? Leastwise no one was there to ask me that; had you, I would’ve just stared at you. The stitching that contained the waking world was slowly coming loose, and, with it, so was he. He would come undone. Not that he knew what was being contained inside of that thing that was him, or so he was told was him. He eventually returned his focus to the glass aperture in the wall, his vision having been blurred, only to realize that he was gone. He was probably just being delirious. Just seeing things.


    warning rambling

  • * ☆. LITHIUMCLAN'S 189TH CHAT THREAD

    [align=center][fancypost bgcolor=;border: 0px; overflow: auto; width: 475px;][justify][size=8]

    DYLAN H. wrote:


    [fancypost borderwidth=0;line-height:-12px; text-align: justify;]WELCOME TO LITHIUMCLAN !!! I'M WISHY


    [s]I have no muse for Dylan today idk where it went I had loads yesterday

    thank ya uwu


    *waves at trigon*


    screams someone told me the wrong thing to study for this exam tomorrow + im redoing this paper because i hate how it turned out so im not gonna reply to any threads right now unless i have extra time afterward

  • 100 WORD CHALLENGE: REDUX

    [align=center][fancypost bgcolor=;border: 0px; overflow: auto; width: 475px;][justify][size=8]reserve the following;


    overt
    frightening
    head
    fuzzy
    broken
    berserk
    adamant
    absorbed
    nebulous
    choke
    hate


    i might withdraw some words depending on how much time i can make to write all of these threads, but i have ideas for most of them. hopefully i don't end up posting them all at once, since i have so many. if it ends up being too much and i'm just flooding the board i'll keep only a handful.


    excited eeeeee

  • ALL MY FRIENDS WE'RE GLORIOUS ♥ alliance request, open

    [align=center][fancypost bgcolor=;border: 0px; overflow: auto; width: 475px;][justify][size=8]Violentmind peered over, the unfamiliar scent having piqued his curiosity, yet remained persistent in keeping himself out of sight. The boy studied the rosetted wildcat from a measurable distance, having never seen a margay before. Neither had he seen anyone other than the few LithiumClanners he now shared a home with. At least, as far as he could remember. It was ironic to him that people even considered it to be a small world.