[align=center][fancypost borderwidth=0;width:450px;line-height:100%;text-align:justify;font-size:8.5pt]Unlike many of his clanmates, Euphemia didn't know Patchy personally, not by her current name nor her former name, although he did recognize her by face, must have seen her around camp a few times. She had a...strange appearance. Different from anything he'd ever seen. He would move to stand - cower? No, I'm not afraid, she's just a clanmate - beside Damiano, his teeth clamping down on his lip for a moment, the skin paling under the pressure. "A - ah, hello," he would greet her meekly. "I'm Eu - Euphemia, Xerses." Nothing fancy about his introduction, he wasn't bold enough to speak the way some of his clanmates, namely Chess and Damiano, did about themselves, and he couldn't think of anything so interesting about himself that it would be worth sharing.
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Posts by euphemia r.
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[align=center][fancypost borderwidth=0;width:450px;line-height:100%;text-align:justify;font-size:8.5pt]The child was still fascinated by the changing of seasons visible everywhere he went - the flowers he kept on his windowsill were protesting against the soon to be winter, the warmth was seeping out of the earth and everything was growing crisp and cold. He would exhale visibly as he followed Frightfur to appear before the unknown female, proceeding to then lift his paws to hover near his muzzle and breathe out again, trying to warm them. He was dressed in more layers than usual, with a scarf around his neck as well - he looked quite cosy, and felt comfort in his more weather protective attire, even as he shook where he stood. "A - ah...I'm Euphemia Xerses, n - nice to m - meet you - you," he stammered, silently cursing himself for the repetition of sounds and words. It was nothing he could help, bu it troubled him. "H - how is Col - Colouredclan for you s - so far?" he would add on in polite inquiry.
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[align=center][fancypost borderwidth=0;width:450px;line-height:100%;text-align:justify;font-size:8.5pt]His eyes are wide and bright, his mind caught somewhere between curiosity and apprehension. He hasn't been here before if his memory is reliable - at least, there is nothing familiar about about this expanse, nothing familiar about the peninsula or about the forest he can see in the not too far distance. He has a small bag of his personal items, but most of his belongings remain in Colouredclan - a few pots of his flowers, a personal gardening project, which are quickly wilting and shriveling as the result of the cooling weather - some ribbons and spare sets of clothing - a set of colored pencils and similar artistic tools - and of course, his dream diary, something that will not remain in Hawkclan but will instead travel with him everywhere he goes and will never leave his person.
He is seated at the border, shivering ever so slightly from the phantom touches of the late autumn breeze, rubbing his paws together to try to generate warmth for them and ducking his muzzle into the scarf tied around his slender neck. It isn't just the cold that has him so on edge - he really is fearful, as is always the case when he's faced with something he has never experienced before, like this new clan and likely the majority of its residents. There is always that distinct worry that he'll be rejected, not necessarily verbally but in some form. He would have preferred Shadowclan, but his friends have long since moved on from there, so now it is just as much uncharted waters as Hawkclan is. He knows that if he'd opted to go to his former clan, he would not have received such statements as "welcome back" or "i missed you," but rather he would have been treated like a stranger, fittingly, because Shadowclan is now inhabited by individuals to whom he is a stranger. The skirt-clad feline lets out a small sigh, one that sounds somewhat disheartened, trying to collect his thoughts as he awaits someone's arrival.
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[align=center][fancypost borderwidth=0;width:450px;line-height:100%;text-align:justify;font-size:8.5pt]He had met one of his parents before - Finnishwars, he had encountered them in Shadowclan and recently his parent had shown up again in Colouredclan, the clan he himself currently resided in. His father was a different story. The last time he'd seen him he imagined he'd been terribly young - young enough for him to not be able to remember what the less familiar of his parents looked like. He'd heard that Leviathan was currently residing in the Exiles, so he'd chased up that rumor and could now be seen by the border, burgundy gaze nervously scanning the territory. He was anxious and visibly so, for good reason. He preferred to distance himself from the Exiles, as many did, and he was already wondering whether this was a fatal risk - agonizing over the chance that his father wouldn't be here at all. He had saved his data in his dream diary and had tucked his knife into his skirt in case things went downhill and they turned on him. He was terrified of dying. He would protect himself if he could, but if he couldn't...at least he had a checkpoint. I'm just here to see someone, he repeated to himself in his mind as some sort of reassurance before he would open his mouth to quietly address anyone nearby. He knew he had to call attention to himself, but he was afraid to. It would take him a moment to resolve himself. "A ah, hello?" he would call out in his typically shaky voice, huffing out a visible breath as a brief pause before he tagged on. "I - I'm Euphemia Xerses, h - here to see my d - dad. His name's Lev - Leviathan, is he st - still here?"
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[align=center][fancypost borderwidth=0;width:450px;line-height:100%;text-align:justify;font-size:8.5pt]He had admittedly been a little worried for his - friend? - as the result of not really seeing him around for two weeks, maybe a little more. Seeing Yuuri running around again was both a relief and a confusion. It looked as though he hadn't let up on the obsessive exercising - there was a noticeable difference, and although Euphemia was uncertain about such an exercise pattern, the other seemed pleased with himself and he wasn't going to be a downer about it. The petite feline, still clad in a skirt but wearing other more winter-orientated items, would approach the apprentice with a passive expression, weighing up what to say. Ah, he had a lot he wanted to tell the other - that he was a high position now, for starters. "A - ah, hello, Yuu - Yuuri," he would greet after a moment. "H - how are you?"
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[align=center][fancypost borderwidth=0;width:450px;line-height:100%;text-align:justify;font-size:8.5pt]She was offering to...knit for him? He was a little taken aback by that, his expression becoming one of puzzlement for a moment. "Th - that's...really k - kind," he said obviously after a pause to allow for his other clanmates to speak and for himself to think on and mentally rehearse a response, mouth turning upwards into an anxious smile. "A - ah, I like pi - pink...and wh - white?" he would continue in response, looking up to her as if for approval.
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[align=center][fancypost borderwidth=0;width:450px;line-height:100%;text-align:justify;font-size:8.5pt]Euphemia knew nothing of the world of crystal gems, so this was a completely strange concept - he didn't know what the mentioned fusion was in such a context of course, either. The feline would halt next to Patchy, taciturnly listening to what she had to add to the conversation. He still didn't understand, not by a long shot. "Fu - fusion?" he would echo the aforementioned female in inquiry, burgundy gaze gravitating to Yuuri.
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[align=center][fancypost borderwidth=0;width:450px;line-height:100%;text-align:justify;font-size:8.5pt]/ ayy zya <33
+ ninja'dWell, he could relate in that regard - he desired to be with his family, no matter how much of a lack of proximity there might be between himself and parents. He didn't exactly feel the need to follow them around anymore - one of them was an Exiler, after all, and the other moved around a lot anyway, from what he understood. The occasional visit, the occasional chance to catch them up on what was going on and make sure that they were still alright was enough. The rather effeminate male would arrive beside Nighttales, watching the serval experimenting with her powers. "A - ah, hello," he would greet in his quiet, stuttering, and equally feminine voice, his gaze still following the water she was controlling. "I don't - don't think we've m - met. I - I'm Euphemia," he would tag on. He would offer a nervous little smile as punctuation.
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[align=center][fancypost borderwidth=0;width:450px;line-height:100%;text-align:justify;font-size:8.5pt]He felt a twinge of curiosity following the brief explanation offered to him. Dancing? That, and from the sound of it fusion itself, was nothing he would be comfortable doing...it sounded like there was a lot of physical and emotional proximity involved, and both of those things, while nice with people he fully trusted, were difficult for him. Despite that, he was wondering what it could possibly be like fusing. What happened to one's thoughts, one's memories, one's ability to choose? "O - oh...that sounds in - interesting," he admitted thoughtfully, looking down at his paws for a moment. "S - so...you m - mean, you merge into one - one person? A - ah, sorry for all - all the q - questions..."
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[align=center][fancypost borderwidth=0;width:450px;line-height:120%;text-align:justify;font-size:8.5pt]I'M UP FOR THE CHALLENGE!
Username: kayoko : ^ )
Completed Achievements:
[3] write a 1,000 word oneshot
[1] explore on of cc biomes
[2] reply to 3 joining threads
[1] have your character injure themselves
[1] meet a new clan member
[1] have your character discover a new hobby or participate in one of their already existing hobbies
[3] write an oneshot of any length about something that gives you muse
[1] suggest an idea in the leader’s den
[1] take gifts to a cc ally/visit a cc ally
Total Points: 14
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[align=center][fancypost borderwidth=0;width:450px;line-height:100%;text-align:justify;font-size:8.5pt]Maybe we could... sometime? His gaze widened ever so slightly, and he exuded a little "huh?" sound. "Us, fu - fuse?" he inquired quietly for verification. His mind immediately began dissecting the invitation. Yuuri had said sometime, which meant, fortunately, nothing was expected of him now - right? He had registered that it did indeed sound something like the birds and bees talk he had received back at Shadowclan, which was perhaps why he was so reluctant. He couldn't imagine himself agreeing to fuse any time soon, but that was where the trust came in. If he trusted someone enough then maybe...that would be a lot to build up, something akin to and beyond the level of trust he'd had with Sans. And then there was the fact that he was dying to ask whether that was even possible for himself, since he wasn't a crystal gem like Yuuri was. He cleared his throat awkwardly, feeling a tad embarrassed and uncomfortable. "O - oh, ah...some - sometime, maybe," he conceded, lowering his gaze and digging his claws into the ground.
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[align=center][fancypost borderwidth=0;width:450px;line-height:100%;text-align:justify;font-size:8.5pt]subaccount track "dialogue"
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[align=center][fancypost borderwidth=0;width:450px;line-height:100%;text-align:justify;font-size:8.5pt]words, 1634
tw, mentions of past sexual abuse, self harm and suicide, unedited garbage and shitty writing
notes, no ic replies, this is just me trying to get out muse :^))) kind of an experiment in tenses too. did i,,,did i mention shittyIt's not the sort of thing he will put into words, perhaps not even if prompted, but the feline is homesick. Every moment that he's in Colouredclan and surrounded by the residents, he aches for his former clan and for the people he'd known and loved at such a time he'd lived there. He desires to go back but he has long since lost the favor of that group. There are few people there that know him and even fewer that care about him. So perhaps instead, he supposes, he misses the time when he was there. He wishes for the past, wishes that he could go back and undo his choice to ever leave Shadowclan like that. Maybe if he hadn't left, he wouldn't have caused certain clanmates so much grief. Maybe if he'd been there for them, they could have been happy and could have been spared their worse fates. He thinks he might have been happy too, if he'd remained with the clanmates who had nurtured him, the ones who had woven him as a thread into the world's tapestry.
But instead he is back to square one and no closer to fulfilling the goal he'd had in mind upon leaving anyway. His boyfriend - no, ex-boyfriend, he reminds himself, you can't say now that you still care for him like that, you can't say that you still feel that way for him - is god knows where. He has recently visited Shadowclan, to no avail - no sign of the canine, and he assumes the worst. No, he doesn't assume that he is dead, he is terrified that Sans has ended up in a different timeline, perhaps suffering at the hands of his father and brother. Frenchpaw and Frost, Chemicaldaze...they have long since either left or died, too. While Euphemia is caught in Shadowclan's orbit, he knows deep down that it will never be what he hopes for, because what he hopes for is a thing of the past. Perhaps some sort of divine guidance will bring this all back to him, but until then it feels futile. However, it's not as though that sure fact will cause him to tear his mind away from his former clan. When he is left to his thoughts, he tends to imagine his friends and his mind drifts back in time to his happiest and darkest moments.
Now in fact, is such a time. The petite male is settled by his fireplace, staring into the flames and feeling oddly soothed as he watches them dance around before his eyes. His muzzle is still buried as much into his scarf as he can manage, the warm fabric stifling his breath ever so slightly. With nothing else to focus on - his eyes gradually drifting to peer beyond the fire, to peer into the distance, perhaps to peer at something that doesn't exist at all - his mind is wandering.
It's spring when he joins Shadowclan. No, nearly spring, there is a thin layer of snow still draining the warmth from the ground. It's so close, the season of growth and renewal is heralded by the shoots of grass lifting their heads above the crystals. As he steps up to the border, he looks upwards for a moment to watch the now scarce flakes of ice drifting around in the sky, reminding him of dandelion seeds dispersed in the air. Ah, and when he lowers his gaze, he sees the clan's territory, just as breathtaking a sight. His gaze cannot make out the full expanse of it. He can see trees, and temples, and rivers in the distance - it is earthy and ancient and mystical, all things he has never seen in his life, having been a rogue in a country known as Japan for as long as he can recall. For all his awe, he is inevitably a little bit nervous - a strange boy in a strange place, about to meet strange people. His legs tremble when he is approached; his voice follows suit as he tells them his name and describes his business.
He is a blithe young creature with a spring in his step and a curious energy that several of his clanmates seem to find charming but that he is barely aware of. He is one of those individuals who is prepared to forgive the world for whatever misfortune it has burdened him with in the past, back when he was a rogue. For him, Shadowclan is a fresh start. It's his redo, a place where he doesn't have to worry about his former pains. He is not concerned with what transpired back then. At this time, he daydreams about what his world can be. He enjoys cooking and dressing up, painting and origami, laughing and living. He smiles readily at joiners, can make friends in a heartbeat, and although he still fears and quakes, he has some degree of confidence in himself. He is nurturing and bright, like the sunlight, like the spring.
The flowers are in full bloom, the trees starting to patch themselves back together and baby animals are starting to crop up throughout the rainforest when he meets Sans. It is a shame, really, that what the other male meets is a broken mess of a creature. By this stage he has already been raped by that man, at the border of the Tribe of Burning Dreams. He is hysterical and fervent in his self-hatred - all he can think is that he is damaged goods, and that no one will ever want him anymore. He is crippled, yes, and his anxiety is also quickly building. Whatever confidence he had possessed before has been drained and he lives in a shell of fear, avoidance and agitation. It is around this time that he begins to have panic attacks, and it is around this time that his future boyfriend arrives in his life. Sans nurses him through a panic attack, a particularly violent one - one of his first, one that he doesn't know how to handle. The canine teaches him how to breathe in order to calm himself down. Such attacks are something the two have in common - and it is the foundation of their getting to know each other.
It quickly becomes evident that they have yet more in common. Their experiences with sexual abuse, with helplessness, they are situationally similar. Their fears are people who wander the universe and the things they have put them through, their fears are emotions and how they are perceived to avoid getting hurt. They grow to preserve each other - Sans bandages Euphie's wounds and takes away his knives, he makes sure he doesn't go hungry by bringing him feline to consume and is there for him when things go wrong. Euphie talks Sans off of a cliff out of concern that he really will jump (I don't want you to die!), makes him throw up a planned overdose of pills, talks to him and does his best to let him know that he's wanted. They're both suicidal, and horribly damaged, but they support each other and miraculously, they keep each other alive. Within a few months, they're dating. Their friendship is built on their common miseries, and how that ends up becoming love, he doesn't know nor can he pinpoint when it started, but he's happy. He's found a little bit of light, he adores Sans, believes he won't be lonely anymore.
And then he gets a taste for his family, one that sticks to his tongue and stays with him even as the relatives depart from Shadowclan as quickly as they arrived. And he decides to follow after them. And that's how he loses Sans.
He regrets that, he regrets it so much. Sacrificing the one sure thing in his life, the one sure thing he loves, in order to pursue some childish dream of family? In order to pursue something dubious and something that he should have learned by now will never stay by his side? How foolish.
He tries to visit his former boyfriend several times, but every time he sets foot in Shadowclan he is scared off. Once Sans is possessed by Gaster, another time he doesn't seem to remember Euphie, much to his despair.
And then when he had visited Shadowclan as a Colouredclanner, he recalls, Sans wasn't there to greet him at all. He has sworn to fill the gap in his heart somehow - he will find some way to satiate his loneliness. He has sworn that he will learn how to cope without that kind of support in his life, he has sworn this time and time again - but still his mind dredges up memories of Sans and he worries and fears for him knowing he no longer resides in the relative sanctuary of the clan, and he misses him, misses his jokes, his flaws, their talks.
The feline focuses his attention once again on the flames as a crack from the fireplace disrupts his thoughts. His vision blurs and his throat starts to feel dry - ah, his thoughts are upsetting him. He wishes he could think of happier things, but it's too late now. As the tears begin to fall, he merely resigns himself to lying down in front of the fireplace, the warmth long since having begun to make him drowsy. He's unsure if he can haul himself off to bed and he doesn't think he wants to. "I'd give the world to know he's alright," he murmurs vaguely - it's a tired whisper, but he means it. He's sincere. Tears still in his eyes, the male lets the statement echo in his mind, drearily thinking to himself that it isn't impossible, thinks that maybe we'll met again, as he drifts off into a comfortable and dreamless slumber.
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[align=center][fancypost borderwidth=0;width:450px;line-height:100%;text-align:justify;font-size:8.5pt]Ah, the stranger - no, the clanmate, since he has just revealed his intentions - doesn't seem hostile. Euphemia feels his habitually hunched shoulders lose some of their tension and he exhales a hushed sigh when he sees that Quickpaw has seemingly picked himself up quickly from Wendigo's jab at him. The feline has found himself at Lewis' side and sometimes hazards a quick glance at the new Colouredclanner's face to check what expression he's wearing. After the hellhound introduced himself and offers his welcomes, Euphie is quick to follow his example, though. He takes in a deep breath and steels himself to speak up in his quiet, thoughtful voice. "A - ah, welcome. I - I'm Euphemia Xerses...d - do you ne - need a tour or an - anything? F - food or water?" he inquires with a curious tilt of his head.
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[align=center][fancypost borderwidth=0;width:420px;line-height:100%;text-align:justify;font-size:8pt]ah, i can possibly offer you this guy cx he might be a bit hesitant at first but he's very curious about fusion,,,
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[align=center][fancypost borderwidth=0;width:450px;line-height:100%;text-align:justify;font-size:11.5px;font-family:arial;]He has never explored the fourth biome before, and when he sets foot in it, he is in awe. It is high up, so it does instill a feeling of anxiety in him - the sensation of being unsteady is quite uncomfortable to say the least, and he treads carefully, but his curiosity keeps him moving forward and propels him deeper into the biome. He finds it cold within the main camp given the metamorphosis between the seasons, but up here his form feels as though it's moving in slow motion. His limbs are rigid, his body shaking and he sniffles in a somewhat miserable manner despite the bright anticipation and excitement that is present in his eyes as he takes everything in.
There is an ethereal blue glow to everything - the light hitting the ice, the reflections visible in the running water. He can see that there are caves, or tunnel systems. He is not so tempted to explore those - no, his interest is being paid to the thin white layer coating the entirety of the area. He takes a shuffling step onto an untarnished piece of the ice that lays over one of the many bodies of water, sliding across it slightly despite his best efforts to dig his claws into it and keep a solid grip. He squeaks, startled by the fact that he's moving and in his state of surprise, he falls over, landing on the ice uncomfortably and feeling the coldness seep through his skirt and jersey. For a moment he is nonplussed about the fact that he has just unceremoniously tripped over, but then he giggles, disguising the laughter and his smile behind a paw hovering near his mouth. "Th - thi...i - is gr - great," he manages to muse to himself through chattering teeth.
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[align=center][fancypost borderwidth=0;width:450px;line-height:100%;text-align:justify;font-size:11.5px;font-family:arial;]The promotions are always nice to hear - the demotions, not so much, but he barely knows Neptuneblue. He takes in the information throughout the meeting taciturnly, burgundy optics scanning the crowds to avoid looking at one thing or individual for too long. "A - ah, understood," he pitches in quietly. He is a little surprised that they are dropping the Stadt, but it sounds as though they are a group that have been causing Colouredclan some trouble. He doesn't know a lot about the First Order, but he's under the informed assumption that they are enemies.
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[align=center][fancypost borderwidth=0;width:450px;line-height:100%;text-align:justify;font-size:11.5px;font-family:arial;]He would recognize Aile - enemy clans or not, he believed that they were on good terms. Euphemia could recall easily that she's ripped an eye out of one of his former bodies, but as fate would have it, the next time they'd met they'd discovered that they'd had certain things in common. She didn't greet him, though, so his own hello's and how are you's never made it into speech in case it was something that would end in her getting into trouble. Instead, he hazarded a glance at the next to arrive - a male, this time. He posed a good question - it really wasn't in his favor. In the past, he would have simply frozen up, would never have left the comparative safety of his own clan in the first place. But everything felt less risky with his dream diary in hand, it no longer mattered, and he believed that he deserved to be allowed to meet his father. He was shaking from...fear? Anticipation of some sort of an attack? If they became hostile, he knew he would end up backing away because it was in his nature to evade being hurt despite the fact his progress was saved, so he wouldn't go so far as to call himself resolute, but he had wanted to give it a try, had mustered the courage to come here in the first place. He searched for a way to answer the question but his attention shifted to the third arrival. Sorry hun, that's your warning, she had said. He swallowed an anxious lump in his throat, holding the book closer to himself. A step back, another step back. "A - ah...if you see him ar - around, a - ah, Lev - Leviathan, c - can you tell him I - I was here?"
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[align=center][fancypost borderwidth=0;width:450px;line-height:100%;text-align:justify;font-size:11.5px;font-family:arial;]"A - ah, excuse me?" the voice of the small feline could be heard, sourcing from by the dens. Anxiety was creeping into his voice and body language, the prospect of getting himself involved in something so public both exciting and worrying. "I - I was won - wondering if anyone else was plan - planning to d-do weekly tas - tasks?"
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[align=center][fancypost borderwidth=0;width:450px;line-height:100%;text-align:justify;font-size:11.5px;font-family:arial;]Ah, since he has received permission from Frightfur, it appears that he's going to be in charge of weekly tasks this week. It's a bit nervewracking, for sure, but it's also just another clan duty that he needs to get a taste for and become familiar with. The feline can be seen seated at the centre of the camp, his gaze momentarily scanning the area as he prepares himself for hosting this. It's alright, calm down, he chides to himself, heaving a deep breath before he speaks up. "A - ah...if you w - want a week - weekly task, come h - here," he musters, hoping that he's picked his words correctly. He already has a few ideas for tasks already running through his head - he has done his best to rehearse everything mentally and get himself ready.
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