Posts by PROFILETESTING

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hi guys i've been gone for a few days with ap testing and all that
i see the takeover started?
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Well, she was here. Out in public. Now she just had to talk to people, was that all? Luckily for her, that was one thing that Barbara tended to be pretty good at. She was a pretty likable person, if she didn't start talking too much, you know? Because sometimes that happened, too, and everyone knew that it could be annoying, especially her. Then again, if people couldn't take her at her worst... You know the phrase, right? The slim-limbed serval glanced around with an interestingly intelligent glimmer to her eyes, sparkling and bright. "Uh, hello? Meet and greet?" While she was usually quite far from anxious, this seemed like a big deal, meeting everyone for the first time. Maybe not the first first time, for some of them, but still! The point stood. "I'm Barbara, by the way. But you can give me a nickname."
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It was probably unnatural for a pretty little kid like Barbara to have such a fascination with sharp objects. She certainly didn't think that it was normal, but that didn't much bother her. Hey, if she had the option, the serval would be wearing a cape and cowl, though that wasn't really... Feasible. But sharp things? Now that was definitely an option, at least later in life. As it was, the kitten's attention had easily been caught by others speaking, and she followed with a curious tilt of her head, until she was able to peek at what Lostboy was holding. It caught her fascination in an instant, light aqua-blue eyes following the slight glint until she was sure that she could do the same. If adults would trust a three month old serval with something like that, of course. "Looks cool! Can I see?" Probably not, but hey, it was worth asking, right?
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"Why just House Tyrell? Why not all of Westeros?" Probably a silly question to ask, but Babs liked to think that she was missing out on something important. What if they were having some sort of civil war? Well, no, they probably wouldn't have time to give out gifts, in that case. Right? Unless it was just a political thing? Huh. She'd think about this later. For now, the lean serval was more interested in the contents of their new basket, slinking a paw through some of them with a tilt of her head. "Can I have a weapon? Or am I too young for that?" Barbara was mostly joking as she turned to look at Tama, her sort-of adoptive mother. The kit was still holding out hope that her dad was out there, but for now, BlizzardClan was nice enough. Right?
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I'm a little late to the party, but congrats Frosty!! That's really cool. c:

And Owlie, I really like the second one. :0
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"Didn't anyone ever tell you not to swear?" Babs was the next to show up on the scene, though she was probably not old enough to be off the islands in the first place. Whatever, she could handle herself as long as she didn't let anyone grab her. The red serval looked at Zernes curiously, but didn't ponder too hard on why he hadn't answered for himself. He probably couldn't, right? "Anyway, hiya neighbor! This is BlizzardClan. I think you're technically not supposed to be in our territory, but you seem alright. What's your name? Where are you from?"
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"Well, you're not wrong." The younger female offered a light shrug of her shoulders, something closer to a subtle shift than an actual shrug, and grinned rather brightly. In all honesty, she was probably a little bit of both, if it came down to the question of being secretive or new. it was a weird subject, and one she was rather keen on avoiding, in all honesty. So Barbara forgot about it by smiling. "But I think it's more fun my way, Poe. Nice to meet you too, by the way." The second person had a nickname, which was nice, but if she had known that her full name was Dangerzone, the serval wouldn't have been able to help but wonder how Lily came from that. Still, it was a nice name. Flowery, and she definitely loved flowers. "Hey! Yeah, Barb works. I like your name."
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I like both of Percival's bodies tbh?? I dunno which one suits him best, but the panther was cool.

I used to take classes for coding and whatnot but I've basically forgotten it all by now. I kinda want to start up with that again, but it takes time that I don't really have, unfortunately.
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SO I literally just got lil Barbara earlier today but I love her so much already? I'm still getting a handle on her personality and to help with that, I would like a few private threads, maybe? It doesn't have to be anything major, but I would prefer if there was at least a bit of a plot to it. I could probably make a few of them, but I'm still trying to write a paper, so it'll be a bit late.

She's open to pretty much anything, but I'm very picky about future crushes/relationships, considering that she's just three months old.
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track + very rushed hello don't mind me
i haven't been here in foREVER
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Both of those sound great! Who makes?
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[ooc: retro to clanwide illness + rushed af oops]

Cagedpaw is pretty sure that he hates this place. It's no fault of ShadowClan's, of course. The lion has never even been here before, it's not like they could have done much to him at all. It's just that his parents had both been well-established here at some point in their lives, and the idea of coming back to that has the dark-furred wildcat baring his teeth. Mentally, at least. Physically, at least, he looks like nothing's wrong. Cool grey eyes taking in his surroundings with a detached, tired air, stance wide but not aggressive as he waits for someone to catch sight of him. Perhaps someone else would have called out, but Caged isn't really one for talking, especially when he's in such a foul mood. Instead, he clears his throat and shakes his fur, the beginnings of a dark mane shifting in the breeze. Hopefully today would be over quickly, or he's going to get in a fight.
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Well, fuck ShadowClan.

Cagedpaw thought that he could handle being in a place that both of his parents had been such a part of, but nope. Nope. The lion had managed to stay there for a few days, hiding at the corners, observing. What, had he really thought that maybe he could fit in? Fucking dumbass. Whatever. The apprentice exhales heavily, shaking out the beginnings of his mane as he tries to relax his thoughts once more. While he had long since learned to control everything about himself, breathing and heart rate included, sometimes the stress gets to him. So he rolls his shoulders nice and slowly, and then lets it go until his eyes look blank, empty. A cool grey, reminiscent of a morning fog, or perhaps of a gravestone. Why the world picked that color, he would never understand, but it would always make him curl his lip into a sardonic smirk until he learned the actual reasoning. The eyes are the windows to the soul, after all, and most people find only that blank grey when they look at him.

"You guys gonna ask me the boring questions too?" That dull gaze roves over the unfamiliar territory with a tense watchfulness, as if he's expecting someone to leap out at him with his call ringing out in the relatively quiet atmosphere. In all honesty, that's not too uncommon of an occurrence in Caged's life, anyway. Perhaps he's right to be wary. This place was a little creepy, in a way that he found himself liking. Then again, they were an ally of ShadowClan, weren't they? Perhaps he should find some bitter amusement in the fact that even when he's running away from the world, from that legacy others carried, he finds a way to stick close to it. Whatever. Hopefully this place was better than the last.
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"Wrong," was the first thing he said to his future clanmates, lifting one paw to examine it with that same distance. And least these strangers had the decency to meet him head on, instead of him whirling around with a snarl when someone snuck up on him. "You could ask something else. Can I help you? Where the hell did you come from? Who the hell decided to name their kid Cagedcub?" It's a joke, then, or at least his version of one. A light smile curled across his features like smoke, still a little... Sharp, not quite kind, not quite wild, but somewhere between it. Blank, mostly, with hints of something that reminds you of adrenaline and scraped paws. Slowly, though, it shifts to something wider as he catches another voice. There were so many people that seemed curious about him, but they were all quiet. Did he scare them? No, Caged wasn't that naive. While he seemed to be powerful, and was certainly fearless, he was still only ten months old.

"I like you." This place beats ShadowClan already. "Well, it's nice to meet you, Curious. I'm Cagedpaw, and I'm also a Leo. Pretty sure." His actual birthday was a total mystery, but he's pretty sure it must have been August. Right? Because he was ten months old now? Hm. "And it's nice to meet you too, glitter." His borderline-cheerful facade would fade soon enough, as this was honestly something he reserved entirely for people he could be sarcastic with. Once he turned back to the full group, the smile fades back to that faint darkness, gaze shielded and half-lidded -- a false calmness. "To answer the boring question, I'm here to join."

/ word choice edit
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Caged isn't like this all the time, really, he isn't. More often than not, he was quiet, barely at the shadows of the world. They wouldn't really have to worry about him creeping them out much, since he wouldn't be there, but hey, kudos to them for being cautious. The truth was this: Cagedpaw wouldn't hurt anyone who hasn't done him wrong, and as far as he could tell, they were good people. A little... What? They found him unsettling, he found them off-putting as well. A little weird, by his standards. He took note of the girl moving closer to the other, though did nothing to lessen the blank expression. "How nice of you, not to waste people's time." The lion huffs, blinking slowly. Some of these people seemed to like him more than others, but that was nothing new.

Well, people just tended to not like him. Caged didn't care. Usually.

"It's nice to meet all of you." While his tone is still dull, there's a light blink of his eyes, almost friendly. Borderliine calm. "When were you born, Andie?" He tries not to make it sound so scientific and cold, though it's easy to say that the kid struggles to make friends. Just another flaw. "Hope you don't mind me asking, 's there a place I can crash? Just been walking a while."
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tracking + a quick hello
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tracking
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Cagedpaw hadn't been the most active these last few days, since he'd joined. Things had gotten a little hectic and, like always, he'd withdrawn to the corners. Watching, for the most part. Taking notes on the people here. It was sort of like surveillance, in the sense that he purposely made himself as socially invisible as he could, at least until he got a feel for the area around him. And now that he had spent a few days around the Brotherhood as something of a living ghost, Caged figured that things were alright. He was safe, or something like that. "Meet and greet in aisle three!" Again, the call means nothing to him, no matter how loud it is. Tired eyes, hiding something sharp. The lion isn't a bad person, but he's not the hero of this story. Or any. "I'm Cagedpaw. I like the color maroon, sunsets, and Shakespeare." He's not even lying, this time. They're not the important things, sure, but they're true.
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/ whoops this got long. ophelia, paragraph 1. differing cub, end of 1, 2. selfdestruct, 2. diaz, 3. james, 4, 5.

Ophelia — despite his bad attitude, Caged isn't an ass to kids, and besides, she's adorable. The lion's sharpness seems to fade, just a touch, and he offers a smile that isn't a smirk. "Like your friend said. Different things, kiddo." But he found himself thinking about it a little bit more. What color was Shakespeare? The only color he can think of is red. It's a gorgeous color, yeah. It comes in many shades, dark and light. Sometimes a little bloody, a deep, rich color. Sometimes much lighter, a cloud-like pink that makes you feel bright inside. Shakespeare is red, he decides, but doesn't tell her that. That would make everything on his list red. What does that mean for him? "But yeah, Shakespeare was a poet." Cagedpaw fights a yawn, claws digging into the earth as he shakes out his growing mane. Sleep hadn't been his friend for months, now. Too busy running, he supposed. Fighting. Surviving.

"What's your name?" Had the two of them met before? Caged doesn't remember Differing from his joining. Right? Maybe? He doesn't have the excuse of his memory being shit, because it's far from that. He just... Doesn't remember. But Selfdestruct — now that's a face he remembers. The expression cools back to blank, but Caged's signature smirk twists his mouth. "Montague, huh?" He wouldn't mind that. "Awww, it's so nice to know that you missed me. I'm touched." Grey eyes roll skywards, though the gesture is good natured. "He's both. Poet and playwright, that is." Part of him wants to recite one of his sonnets now, but Caged actually doesn't want people to know what a nerd he is.

Wait. Waitwaitwiat. Was that — ? Brows raised, the lion turns to Diaz, trying not to look like he'd just swallowed his tongue. "Hablas español?" He manages, finally regaining his mind enough to grin a wolfish, mischievous grin. It was nice to find others who could do that, too. While Caged had been born in ShadowClan, he hadn't stuck around long. Instead, the big cat had ran off and had been pretty much raised with that language. Huh. Well, he's not naive enough to think that the two of them will suddenly be best friends, bonding over a language they both spoke, but he think that he'll be spending a bit more time making snide comments in Spanish. And now he was dying for a cigarette. Shit. "Much gusto, Diaz."

And then came a soul that was different and the same all at once. Someone who looks in on the information given, finds that he understands, but isn't sure if he thinks the same thoughts. Cagedpaw loved Shakespeare for what he wrote. The kid loves tragedy, loves the unhappy endings, because that's all he's ever gotten. Blood and betrayal. They deserve better, the two of them. Better than unhappy endings and shackles, but they both got them. Caged simply ran from his, left ShadowClan and only turned back once, went to go make a name of his own. Maroon he has no excuse for. He loves it because it's bloody, because it reminds him that he hasn't died yet, that there's always another fight to be fought, and that he's not going to fail now. Life and death, that's how he saw it too. Watching the sun die in a storm of red has become a ritual of his, before storming off to waste the night away with cigarettes and heavy thoughts.

Neither of them bring up their similarities. Instead, cold grey eyes trace the chain, the muzzle, and his eyes narrow in concern and suspicion. Did he deserve these? Caged doesn't ask, doesn't want to hate him yet. "Nice to meet you." Somehow his mind connects James to Jay, jaybird, blue jay. Noisy, bold, aggressive. That's him, though, not James. Jay was an old, old nickname, when he'd gotten into an argument with one of the birds. No words involved, just growls in his part and cheeping on it's. They had said that he was a blue jay in spirit. Maybe he was.
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/ alloyyyyyyy

Caged can hardly hide a grin. It's a wolfish thing, seeming to laugh rather cruelly at the younger creature. Intentionally antagonistic, but it soon fades back to blank disinterest. Not cold, but... Dead, perhaps. Eyes the color of gravestones, fur the color of dirt, of death. Like the stranger, Cagedpaw was not the hero of this story. He had been, at one point. Playful and bright, the kind of person that everyone liked. He had smiled like the sun and meant it. Now, the lion might as well have been dead. Ten months into life, and all he could do was sneer. Bite back sarcastic remarks and watch his paws stain red. Nobody here liked him, but that was alright. He was only here because it wasn't ShadowClan - and boy, that left the world wide open, didn't it? And yet, he chose one of their allies. Someone just a step away from the world he'd been born into. A step away from coming home, even though the child had not stopped running away.

He always circled back. Sat at someone's border making snide remarks, empty eyes and an empty heart. Like Praxis, he had to be. Though perhaps it was less of a choice in his case. Too many heroes died - that was his reason, and it wasn't far from the feline's, either. But his response isn't to become a bad guy to survive, no, it's to make sure that the bad guys lose. Stop them before they stop the heroes. Heroes don't like him, and neither do the villains, but it's effective. It's what he wants, and as such, the wildcat continues. Unafraid of dying, unafraid of killing. Fearless, because he doesn't care what happens next. He can't tell if they'll be friends or if they'll hate each other, the two of them, but either way, he looks down at him, and he smirks.

"You've got as long as it'll take, shortstack."
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