Posts by caffeinerush

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    [fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 450px; text-align: justify; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;]Ask Caffeinerush who his best friend is and he'll probably answer with Calliope's name in a heartbeat, murmuring it without much thought and relying simply on what comes first — which is her, as always. Is it strange to call her his best friend, he wonders? It's something he thinks about a lot. She's only three quarters of the way towards her first year, whereas he's nearly three quarters of the way to his third, and they're so different; and yet it works. Somehow, he finds himself falling into step with her, bouncing off of her unconsciously, picking up her sentences and finishing her thoughts and letting her do the same for him. Music is a good analogy for the two of them, a two-part piece that doesn't sound right on its own. Good, but wrong, empty, hollow, somehow pleasing to the ear, but not pleasing enough, and it's only when they work together that warmth floods the veins of the listener. Alone, Caffeinerush is discordant. He needs someone else to regulate the beat.


    He's the piano before it's been tuned, the uneven twangs of a broken guitar, the kind that a young musician grumbles over, hunched and using deft fingers to try and fix the problem — but there's never a solution. It's just a make do and make music sort of thing, a deal with what you have scenario, and if it's played soft enough with something else beside it, it works, strangely. Caffeinerush wouldn't object to being called the rough drumming of rain on a rooftop on a Tuesday night in autumn, one of those lazy pat pat pats that works its way into the soul and lingers there like an icy parasite, thawing slowly but creating more chills as it melts. It's true, really. True and oddly poetic, lingering just behind his tongue and near his throat, that thrumming pulse of melancholy eeriness that resonates throughout his body. It's what Calliope can hear in their quietest moments, the whispering ghost of a love that's long lost.


    Most recently, though, his tune has changed. It's even more uneven than before, and Calliope no longer quite fits. He can't tune himself, though; he can't reach where the tune doesn't work, and he needs somebody else to do it for him. For now, though, he epitomises loneliness, paws shaking as he locks away his ground coffee and the mugs and his beloved flask, treading his house dimly and cleaning up the broken glass and trying to replace the curtains, doing his best to fix what he broke during Callie's absence. And that's when he hears the knock on the door, head tilting, and he makes his way down the corridor to pull on the cord that lets him open the door, peering straight at the person that's lingered on his mind for a long time. "'Ey, Punster." it's as easy as one two three, that promise, and he steps back, grinning as always. "What's up?"
    [hr]

    [fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 450px; text-align: justify; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;]/ kicks down the door
    AU with Caf, maybe?? Because he's short and cheerful and needs to give Eliot a hug
    [hr]

    [fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 450px; text-align: justify; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;]Tracking this, because I feel like a long term plot would be good, but I've yet to actually work out what that plot could be.
    [hr]

    [fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 450px; text-align: justify; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;][mobile, sorry for any mistakes.
    lmao it's fiiiiine, caf can more than hold his own]


    "That is an excellent question," Caffeinerush remarks, looking over at Kuro. He looks unimpressed, and Caf, well — he can't blame him. The scientist has never been orthodox, has never worked in the way that others do, and he's particularly surprised that they haven't yet angrily questioned his motives. Why would he ask to be captured? Why would he inform them of his most vulnerable spot in a battle? They don't seem interested in that — this one only wants to know why he dodged an attack. Perhaps because it's instinct? "Aside from the fact that it's a natural reaction to someone chuckin' themselves at ya, I don't really want to be pinned and interrogated at the same time. That position addles my brain, and I can't think straight, so I figured.. one at a time, yeah? When you've done questioning me, y'can just.." he raps a paw against his head. "Only with a little more force, yeah?"


    As Reiki begins to rant, Caffeinerush turns slowly towards him, fixing him with an even stare. "I, uh, I would, honest. But why would I stop smiling? Doesn't sound very fun to me. Y'should try laughin' a little sometime, kid. Makes the world a better place." why do these people feel the need to rain on his parade? This guy reeks of insecurity — and not Caf's own sort, but the malevolent kind. The kind that encourages him to insult people in the hopes of bringing them down to his level, not the kind that encourages them to smile and make shitty jokes and cheer people up so they never know the pain. The kind that proves a person's worth as an asshole, not the kind that shows their own mental fortitude against constant nightmares. "It's no fun if I do it all myself, bud." he waves a paw, watching it flare blue, and a pair of handcuffs materialise. He tosses them at Reiki's feet. "But here, I'll even give ya some handcuffs so ya don't have to go find any. Now, c'mon, big guy. If you're so tough, surely y'can just come over here and put them on me. That ain't so hard, is it? Not even for you, surely."


    He bites his tongue, then, trying not to laugh, and shuts his eyes. "If you want a clown to stop smiling, shoot them in the fucking face? You come up with that one yourself, kiddo? Word of advice—" he's giving plenty of advice out, it seems. Ah, well. They deserve it— "don't bother comin' up with your own sayings, 'cause, uh, they fall flat. Ya do know how childish that sounded, right? For Exilers, you, uh.. aren't very scary. Work on that."
    [hr]

    [fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 450px; text-align: justify; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;][mobile again!]


    "Run..?" Caffeinerush stares up at Rick, eyeing the male. He looks fed up, which is amusing — has Caf pissed him off already? He doubts they'd be similar if he was here to join — and, hypothetically, if he ever left ScarClan, this cruel behaviour would prevent him from ever considering the Exiles. Are they aware that their "hate everyone" policy will only damage them? Perhaps not — or perhaps they are, and they're too stubborn to admit it. The most pitiful thing is that they still have rules and regulations; they aren't nearly as fierce as they claim to be. They're pathetic, almost. It's.. it's sad. They aren't even the enemy ScarClan needs to distract them. "Now, why would I run? C'mon, buddy, open your ears and listen. I just said I'm here to be captured, and you're telling me to.. leave? That ain't happening. Heh." did Caf stutter? Did Rick mishear? The male's here for one reason and one reason only — he even said he's aware that he can fight them. Unlike most idiots who turn up expecting that they, a one-man army, is enough to battle a clan, Caffeinerush's aware he's already lost. This is just where it gets interesting. "Say, while I'm here, you guys didn't happen to capture a Red, did'ya? I mean, I know ya did, I'm just curious to know who did it. Since I'm a prisoner and all, I'm kinda harmless, so.. y'can trust me. I won't tell on the bastard that touched him."
    [hr]

    [fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 450px; text-align: justify; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;]He waves a paw at Silentkit in greeting, grin widening, and turns to Russo with a passive glaze fogging his eyes. "Nah, there's definitely a Red kickin' around. If there wasn't, I'd not be here." it's simple, right? The short feline yawns as Russo asks Rick for permission to kill him, wondering why he even needs to seek approval. This is the Exiles, he's an enemy. Does that not justify his potential demise? Eh, maybe it does, but Caffeinerush is used to death threats and being beaten around and people commenting on how useless he is. Or annoying. Annoying isn't something he's heard in a long time, but these people seem on the verge of lashing out at him — not that they haven't already tried, but he's half-expecting them to unleash their "full potential", or whatever, in a few moments.


    Reiki's outburst draws Caffeinerush's attention. "Chill out, buddy, it was just a name. It doesn't have any relation to your actual age." he remarks. "You look young, I'm short and smiley, I get it. Neither of us look like we could hold our own in a fight. Only difference is, if someone calls me a midget, I don't go off on a rampage and start yappin' about frogs falling from the sky. Thing is, though, bud, frogs have rained from the sky before. Go for something a little less plausible, like.. it snowing green." snowing green. When Red shows any sort of real care towards him, not in the heat of any sort of strange moment, it'll snow green. Caffeinerush's eyes narrow in a depiction of sadness for a brief moment, even as the smile remains — why is he even bothering? Red doesn't like him. (It's probably because Caf cares, cares about everyone in ScarClan, even if they don't reciprocate. They're family, regardless of what they think.)


    "Desperate? Heh, yeah. But ya' gotta admit, me askin' to get captured so I can visit a friend is more polite than what most people'd do. Which is raid the place." Caffeinerush isn't going anywhere. It's that steadfast loyalty that binds him, and if Reiki wishes to envy that, then so be it. He automatically turned the world against him when he agreed to stick with the Exilers; but Red hasn't. Red's different. Red's a ScarClanner, and that means Caf is going to look out for him, even if Red won't ever do the same for him. "And, uh, kid? You already threatened me. You said ya were gonna take me to someone who'd wipe the grin off my face, 'cause the best way to stop a clown from smilin' is to shoot them. Or, uh, something like that. In my books, that's a threat. So, uh, you're just like the rest of 'em. Neat, huh?" who's the hypocrite now? Caffeinerush watches Reiki move forwards, listens to his spat threat. "Touch ya? Buddy, I don't wanna hurt ya. You're actin' like I'm here to start a one-man war, but I already stated my motivation. I'll, uh—" he yawns again— "I'll state it again, if ya want. I wanna get captured. That.. does not involve touching you. So now you're spouting even more nonsense."


    Reiki seems to recognise Red's name, however, and his behaviour implies that the male is here. Excellent. So Russo wasn't right, he was just delusional. "Heh, hold hands with him? He's, uh, he's kind of taken. I think. Boyfriend disappeared for a bit, shares his body with two other people. Alright guy — uh, guys — really." he shuts his eyes briefly. "And yeah, I get that if it was the other way around, ya'd not see him here lookin' for me, but that ain't the point." he's quiet as Reiki then turns to Rick, opening his eyes as Sarcasm approaches and starts to circle him. "What makes a clan 'scum', though? Is it the general opinions of them? 'Cause, uh, more people'd call your clan scum than mine. Every clan, actually, would prefer to deal with mine than yours. From what I've heard, the world'd rejoice if everybody here died, so, uh.. Speaking for the majority, you're technically the scum. But hey! I won't judge. Everyone has the right to an opinion."


    Boulderpup's arrival causes Caffeinerush's demeanour to change instantly — his politeness causes the male's grin to soften. "Hey, kid. Name's Caffeinerush." he greets, ears perking. "And yeah, I'm certain it's here. All the signs point to you guys taking him, so.. I'm gonna go ahead and say that's a pretty good indicator." again, he's silent until Rick speaks, and oh, well. He's not really surprised — he has pissed them off — but he's, uh. He's disappointed, because the ground around him rises and traps him in what looks like a cage, and Rick's striding towards him like he wants to end it quickly. "Aw, buddy, that's sweet. You're gonna end me quickly?" as the tiger reaches for his neck, Caffeinerush teleports out of the way, out of the rock cage and away from Rick. "Uh, right, no. That ain't gonna happen."


    His head throbs briefly, but he can shake it off. It'll take a while before he's so worn down he can no longer use his powers; he fights primarily with them, so he's built up a tolerance to their side-effects. Even so, when he hears a yell, he thinks, just for a second, that he's gone mad; but then he can see Red, and his eyes are wide. "Țepeș, buddy! Outta the way, c'mon, you're gonna get yourself killed!" he teleports on over, aims to push Red away from Rick, and grins at him. The protectiveness startles him, but he'll not let it show. Not here. "Nice to see ya, by the way. Figured I'd come say hi."
    [hr]

    [fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 450px; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;]Reikiiii, my man!
    It looks awesome, btw, Seina! I love it; you're very talented. : )
    [hr]

    [fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 430px; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;]SCREEN NAME; kurloz (he doesn't have a nickname for him yet,, so default name it is)
    LAST TEXT SEND; "hey, sorry for my behaviour when i was drunk. guess all that alcohol just bamBOOZEld me. heh. heheh. but i'm sorry. really. any way i can make it up to ya?"
    IC OPINION; he's alright, i guess. bit melancholy, but then again, aren't we all? we make a bit of a trio — kurloz, țepeș, and i, — and kurloz is.. he's sorta like what'd happen if me and țepeș had a kid, personality-wise — a bit neurotic and full of shitty jokes. i like him, anyway. he's a nice guy.
    OCC OPINION; I LOVE KURLOZ TO BITS. i love the way you write + he's a fantastic character. agreeing with cougar on the jokes during awkward moments thing — it's fantastic cx


    OKAY. now it's done. again.

    [fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 450px; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;]i wanted to elaborate on caf's growing nicotine addiction + smoking habits, so here, have a characterless second-person oneshot of caf and someone smoking
    [hr]
    From where you're sat, the people look tiny, milling about and crawling over one another on dimly-lit streets. This wall is an ideal vantage point, and up here, you feel invincible — everyone seems so.. small, so insignificant. It's equal parts invigorating and humbling, a stark reminder of how vulnerable your race is.. if one of these buildings fell, they'd all die. Below you, they'd be crushed like ants, screaming and running as they're knocked down and smashed into bloody pulps.


    "Makes y'think, eh?" you glance over at him, kicking your legs. He's hunched over, right elbow resting on his thigh, and his left fingers loosely grasp a cigarette. He lifts it to his lips, takes a drag and then exhales, smoke billowing from his lips, and he stares at the people below. His expression is worn, weary, tired, lips curved into a slight frown and his eyes half-lidded, but he looks oddly.. content? Reminiscent, if nothing else. "All these people, crawling about like bugs. Do you feel big or small?" briefly, he turns to look at you, and you tell him that you don't know. Both, maybe. Your words make him smile, just a little, a quirk of his lips that flash white teeth. "Heh, I suppose. Dunno about you, but it makes me feel tiny. I feel mortal when I'm sat here."


    You tell him that's because he is tiny, he is mortal, and he chuckles. It's a nice sound, different to his usual laugh, quiet and gentle and real. He rolls the cigarette between his fingers and takes another drag. "Yeah, that's true. I feel smaller, then." when he exhales, the smoke puffs out in rings, and you watch, fascinated. His eyes close, his head tips back, and he looks happy — you don't want to interrupt him, but you have to ask him how he does it. He just looks at you, cracking one eye open lazily. His grin widens briefly, and your heart aches in the weirdest way. You still don't understand it. "Hell if I know. Shit's magic. Just somethin' I picked up along the way."


    Along the way. Your next question is typical: so you've been smoking a long time? Again, his grin widens just a touch, and your chest tightens. "Nah. Been smokin' a few days. Uh.. three, maybe?" you blink at him. "Guess I'm a natural. Born to do it." he's lying. He has to be, and you stare at him for a long time. He just stares back, rapping his heels against the wall, and then he laughs. "Heh. Honestly, I dunno how I do it. I just.. do." he puts out the cigarette and tosses it over the wall, and you both watch it fall. Together. "D'ya reckon it'll hit someone on the head?"


    The thought is oddly hilarious, and you start giggling. It's soft at first, stifled, but quickly escalates to a full-blown laugh, a hiccuping, heaving, gasping howl that you can't quite control. He's watching you with gleefully-narrowed eyes, and you reach out and pull him into a one-armed hug; he goes with it, but he's a little shocked, gaze briefly widening, before he relaxes, head forced up on your shoulder, and starts laughing, too. It's a long time before you both recover.


    "So, C, how do you do that thing with the smoke?"
    He smiles mysteriously, pulls a lighter and two cigarettes out of his breast pocket, lights the cigarettes and passes one to you.
    "Well, y'see, bud, first, you've gotta get used to it, so take a big, long drag. Follow my lead, okay? Okay.."
    [hr]

    [fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 450px; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;]- is actually suffering from major/persistent psychotic depressive disorder + general anxiety.
    - takes pills in order to hide the fact that he's suffering from these things.
    - is a caffeine addict, but is weaning himself off of caffeine and instead taking up smoking to try and distract himself.
    - is an insomniac due to fearing sleep; he suffers from nightmares and flashbacks, and they haunt him wherever he goes.
    - he isn't actually a natural animal; he was created in a laboratory environment.
    - during his history as a scientist, he often performed ethically cruel experiments on other animals despite being subjected to such things himself during his childhood, but buried his feelings of guilt so that he could remain mostly detached, and started to see people as objects. changing that mindset has been difficult.
    - he actually used to be happy.
    - he used to be an original character, but then was slowly influenced by outside sources.
    - in human AUs, he is a skilled bassist.
    - in small doses, alcohol turns him into a total nihilist; in larger doses, it's essentially a sex pollen to him, hence why he doesn't often drink it. at all. the first two times he was subjected to it, it was in a laboratory environment, and the results were.. disastrous. he spent three days locked away; not for anyone else's safety [he was harmless], but for his own. he's now acutely aware of what alcohol can do to him.
    [hr]

    [fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 450px; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;]ah, you don't have to! it's basically just a oneshot, hence why it's written in second person from a random person's point of view. i'll probably put up another human AU tomorrow or something, but this is basically,, un-replyable to?
    [hr]

    [fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 450px; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;]"Frankenstein? As in the guy who made the monster in Mary Shelley's book?" Caffeinerush is as awed by ScarClan's territory as anybody else and, like Victor, he revelled in the appearance of the Olympus replica when he first saw it, but he can't help but note how out of place he looks. One would expect only godlike creatures to roam here, but he's a blatant contradiction of that assumption, short and unimpressive, an odd grin curling his lips and baring white teeth in a friendly expression of welcome. Making his way down to Victor takes some effort on his half, but he's hellbent on reaching the canine without utilising any powers, and eventually settles in front of the larger male, shifting his weight on the smooth, ivory step. "My guess is you're a scientist of some sort. Can't have a name like that and not be interested in the way people work." he pauses briefly, grin widening a touch. "Or maybe you can. What do I know? Welcome to the clan, anyway, buddy. Name's Caffeinerush. Used t'be a Tribune until the Big Guy decided I ain't up to scratch. Can't blame him, either."


    He eyes the dog curiously, wondering why canines seem to carry a constant air of perfection. Previously, his interaction with dogs had consisted of various experiments, but he's since come to understand that some of them are better than simple test subjects. "So. D'ya need anything? Food, water, a tour?"
    [hr]

    [fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 450px; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;]"Nah, buddy, he's gotta be tellin' the truth, 'cause if he's fuckin' you over, he's the biggest dick I've ever met." having overheard the majority of the conversation, Caffeinerush finally decides to join in, making his way towards the trio and settling down beside Red, narrowed eyes fixated on Jack. Or — at least, someone they've all agreed is Jack, only an amnesiac form of him. He's never understood spiritual amnesia, really — it's a phenomenon, for memories are made in the brain, not in the soul — so if Jack can't remember anything at all, then technically, it's very unlikely that he'll ever be able to remember anything again. Except if this is something to do with the trio of souls messing up, then perhaps this is one of those spiritual-based memory losses, and—


    He hates this. It's ridiculous.


    Closing his eyes and collecting his thoughts, the short feline shrugs. "Right, Triforce, buddy. You, uh, you seem to be having a bit of a problem with your memory." it can't be a carbon copy of the guy, so Caffeinerush has already come to the conclusion that this is just one massive fuck-up. "Like he said — d'ya know where y'are?"
    [hr]

    [fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 450px; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;]Mm-hmm! Caffeinerush presents a façade of "I'm as lazy as they come", and boy, he does it well. He's known for being short, drinking coffee and making shitty puns, though the middle trait is making way for his smoking habit (unfortunately? Unfortunately). He appears easygoing and laid-back in nature, willing to go with the flow, and he makes friends easily. More traits/quirks are in his tags, and here is his [admittedly outdated] biography.


    He's open to most things, really. Friends are easy for him, and enemies.. a little harder. Particularly in ScarClan, it's practically impossible, because he's emotionally controlled to the point where he can't display any distaste. AUs are good, as are normal threads; private + open are good, too. I don't mind. If you need any ideas, too, I'm more than happy to suggest some! He just needs to form relations in ScarClan.
    [hr]

    [fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 450px; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;]Thanks, Bellus! c:


    yeeeaaah, i might have to stop putting 'open'
    But thank you! second person perspective, maybe? I just figured I'd try something new, and rather than having the 'you' be Caf, have it be someone else. I might do a second-person oneshot from the perspective of Caf, though. But again, thanks!! shhhhh, it's good feedback. and YES, mafia caf


    it begins
    Thank you, Cougar! [s]just you wait for what i have in store for him
    i'm drawing out the time between now and any real happiness lmao
    [hr]

    [fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 450px; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;]Sure to both! I'm not the best with interaction threads unless I have something to work towards, so do either of you have any idea how your character may respond to Caffeine? I'd still love to rp with you both, though, so,, who makes?
    [hr]

    [fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 450px; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;]"Oh, geez, I don't feel too—" Caffeinerush huffs, tripping over his own feet and lurching forwards, hitting the ground at RiverClan's border. It's oddly reminiscent of his first time finding ScarClan, and he reflects on that for a few moments before pushing himself into a standing position, wiping his forehead with the back of his left forepaw and looking around. He's not visited RiverClan in a long time, and he rather regrets that; it's a nice place with nice enough people, and he really needs to dwell here. Now he no longer has a position of import in ScarClan, he no longer has to worry about his activity as much, and can drift freely. He's also thinking of spending time in BoneClan, too. Why not?


    The short feline shakes himself out, widens his grin just a touch and meanders back over the border. "Say, anyone got anything for a headache? Poppy, maybe?" he calls cheerfully, ears twitching forwards.
    [hr]

    [fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 450px; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;]He makes sure he's smelling of ScarClan as he makes his way towards the border, grinning broadly as is usual — it's a common mask for him to wear, that huge and toothy beam, eyes curved into cheery semi-circles and darting about. A smile like this makes him seem approachable, and Caffeinerush values the trust it bestows in him; people open up, people let him see what plagues them, people let him try and help without ever considering to return the favour, because he seems fine. Even when he's bleeding out, he's smiling, laughing, making jokes. He's the epitome of mental health.


    "Heh. Heh heh. Oh, man, that's a good one." the short feline mumbles to himself, as if he just thought of — or was told — a joke. He settles himself down once he smells BoneClan's scent markers, ears perking. "Classic comedy. I'll hafta use that one, sometime." there's nobody else in sight, though, no previous signs of a conversation that could've elicited this sort of response from him, but Caffeinerush is a little strange. Golden-hearted, but unusual. "Hey, anyone there? Name's Caffeinerush — I'm lookin' to join."
    [hr]

    [fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 450px; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;]"To be honest, kiddo, I just need someone who's handy with flower prints. A medic'd be good, though. Say, is Ny— uh, what'd she be called now.. Littlepaw? Is she an apprentice? Anyway, is she still the medic trainee around here?" Caffeinerush chats conversationally, turning towards Rory and offering him a nod, still grinning cheerfully. If the other male can smell ScarClan, then he's not sure why; he often finds ways to cover the scent of whichever clan he last visited before approaching the next, well aware that the two groups are enemies (and only caring because he doesn't want to explain his strange dual-membership. It's not about politics; it's about convenience). Even so, he can easily brush it off. On his travels, he wound up near ScarClan. Simple. "Oh— name's Caffeinerush, kid. I live here — I just happened to wander off. What's your name?"
    [hr]