Posts by BELLONA.

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  • BLUE LIPS, BLUE VEINS [♚] STORAGE/TESTING


    [fancypost bgcolor=;border:0px;font-size:20px;font-family:arial;letter-spacing:-1px][b][color=#eabcbe]I[color=#ebbec0]'[color=#ebbfc1]L[color=#ecc1c3]L [color=#edc4c6]R[color=#edc6c8]I[color=#eec8c9]N[color=#eec9cb]G [color=#efcdce]T[color=#f0ced0]H[color=#f0d0d1]E [color=#f1d3d4]B[color=#f2d5d6]E[color=#f2d6d8]L[color=#f3d8d9]L[color=#f3dadb]S [color=#f5ddde]A[color=#f5dfe0]N[color=#f6e0e1]D [color=#f7e4e4]C[color=#f7e5e6]R[color=#f8e7e8]A[color=#f8e9e9]S[color=#f9eaeb]H [color=#faeeee]T[color=#faeff0]H[color=#fbf1f1]E [color=#fcf4f4]C[color=#fcf6f6]Y[color=#fdf7f8]M[color=#fdf9f9]B[color=#fefbfb]A[color=#fefcfc]L[color=#fffefe]S[/fancypost]


    #eabcbe, #edc5c7, #f0cfd0, #f3d8d9, #f6e2e3, #f9ebec, #fcf5f5, #fffefe

  • BLUE LIPS, BLUE VEINS [♚] STORAGE/TESTING

    [fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px; width: 420px; text-align: justify; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px;]heyy
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    INFORMATION — 09/25/2016

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  • CURSE IN REVERSE | PRIVATE

    [fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px; width: 420px; text-align: justify; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px;]She's kind of getting bored of ShadowClan. Sure, it was cool when she first got here, learned how different it was here, reinvented the part of herself that snarled rival at the sight of a stranger— but now that the fascination's worn off and annoyance at the extreme humidity's setting in, she feels compelled to get up and find somewhere else to hang around. Not to mention the only two people she actually liked in this place seem to have wandered elsewhere, and, anyway, this isn't the only clan out there. There are, she's heard from eavesdropping, lots of other communities that share resources freely within themselves, even with other clans. She just needs to find another one, and she's always had a good nose.


    It's the middle of the night right now, though. Predators'll be lurking around the edges of the borders, looking for easy prey, and she's not so foolhardy that she'll recklessly charge into the wilderness with no regard for personal safety. In fact, personal safety was exactly the reason she joined the clan in the first place. Tomorrow's no good either; she's wide awake and she needs a full night's sleep before she decides she's rested enough to head out on her own. That's the furthest she's planned, though; other than that, she thinks she'll just make it up as she goes.
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    INFORMATION — 09/25/2016

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  • CURSE IN REVERSE | PRIVATE

    [fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px; width: 420px; text-align: justify; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px;]She thinks she prefers the open space of the desert, honestly. The thick undergrowth makes her feel caged in, unable to escape. She's long-since refined her control on her emotions, though— you can't always trust your gut, especially if it means your survival— and she absently squashes out the trickle of panic every time it surfaces. Adapting's second-nature for her; you gotta know how to go with the flow, wait for the opportune moment, then strike fast as a cobra if you wanna keep yourself alive in a dingo-eat-dingo world. Especially when you're a skinny pup like her. Her world works like that: everyone's got an agenda hidden under bluster or bashfulness or bright smiles. You keep your toes to yourself and lie in wait.


    When night comes, the wise dingo knows to drop what they're doing and find a hidey-hole to sleep in until the break of dawn. That's how they did it in the village. Not her, though. Sometimes she'd stay up, even as she does now, to watch the stars shift position with each turn of the planet. She'd sleep in and go hungry each time she'd do that (she doesn't know what pizza is, but it can't be worse than subsisting on the bare minimum to stay alive), so she'd only do it when she'd gotten a good haul in earlier that morning. Here, though, she can watch the stars whenever she likes, eat however much she wants to (which is still the bare minimum; old habits die hard, so the saying goes, and she's still waiting on a drought), and do whatever she likes so long as it isn't bothering another clan-mate.


    It doesn't count as bothering when they bother her first, though. "No," she says mildly, glancing over at her new companion. Looks like a dingo, but dingoes aren't colored like that. Has to be a dog, then, though not a bit like the sandy-colored village dogs she'd met before. He's got weird eyes— all white, no pupil. Blind? She can't tell, and the wealth of strange-looking animals in ShadowClan challenges what she knows and what she's certain of at every turn. Not that that bothers her; she adjusts accordingly and with little difficulty. "Are your eyes always like that?" It can't hurt to ask.
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    INFORMATION — 09/25/2016

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  • CURSE IN REVERSE | PRIVATE

    [fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px; width: 420px; text-align: justify; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px;]/ sorry for shortness + incoherency, having muse problems rip


    Bellona's been a nobody all her life. No parents to speak of, nor a memory to remember them by. Whatever littermates she had died from starvation while she miraculously survived. She was raised by an entire village until she was seen fit to take care of herself, and then she was promptly named and abandoned. And she survived. She built herself up from nothing and lived to tell the tale. There's no greater accomplishment out there in the hot sand, and she's perfectly unbothered by the fact that, other than that, she has absolutely nothing but the fur on her back— and her own choices. She chose not to care, and so she didn't, and so she won't.


    Only if the mask's on. She didn't know clothing (unnecessary, in her opinion) could change someone's appearance, but she didn't know a lot of things until she stumbled here by chance, three months old and hungrier than ever. Part of her's curious as to the why of it, but she's got experience in ignoring her less survival-based instincts. "Okay," she says simply, then cocks her head slightly as he introduces himself. Hidden, she thinks, and says, "Bellona. Don't like nicknames." She tilts her head fully to the side, large ears flopping ungainly along. "Why're you up, Red?"
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    INFORMATION — 09/25/2016

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  • LOSE YOUR SOUL / OPEN, JOINING

    [fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px; width: 420px; text-align: justify; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px;]Rather than completely leaving ShadowClan, she's decided to float back and forth between it and other places. She hasn't set paw outside its borders yet, though it's not due to any sort of nervousness. Her reason for deciding to leave in the first place was because she didn't find it interesting anymore, and, well, that's sort of changed (look, she's still curious about Red's mask; how does it work?). With new resolve, she slips beside Red— careful to keep a few feet away; apparently people don't like it when you invade their personal space, and neither does she when others do the same to her, come to think of it— and blinks at Darkpaw. "Hi," she says breezily, ears aimed toward him, "I'm Bellona, no nicknames."


    / wow look at that muse
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    INFORMATION — 09/25/2016

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  • BLUE LIPS, BLUE VEINS [♚] STORAGE/TESTING

    [fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px; width: 420px; text-align: justify; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px;]do i accept that bellona is a slytherin/slytherin or do i attempt to force her to become a ravenclaw/slytherin. because. i just. if the former that will mean i have?? too many slytherin primaries. too many loyalist primaries actually. why do i not have an idealist primary character.
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    INFORMATION — 10/01/2016

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  • WHERE IS MY MIND **JOINER

    [fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px; width: 420px; text-align: justify; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px;]/ meeeeerc


    Her first thought of this weird newcomer? Mangy dingo. The village was full of them, and while she was lucky to have avoided the worst of it when she was still scrounging for food in garbage while keeping a sharp eye out for other dingoes, she'd seen the less fortunate skulking around with barely a hair on their bodies. This guy looks in worse shape than any dingo she'd ever met, though, and he's not even a dingo. He's got more scars than most, too; they'd be gruesome, but she's seen her fair share of rotting dingo carcasses. As has been previously stated numerous times before— you could say it's essential to her character— she's sort of developed a necessary immunity to the whole death and dying thing. As for the rest of him, well. He is pretty weird (what the hell is a meth? A plastic surgeon? A Bruce Wayne?).


    Trotting placidly after Red, she tips her head at Mercenarymouth. "Mercenary"— a word she's familiar with, though only because she asked what it meant of a large, metal-limbed feline who bore a similar name to hers at her joining. Why it's paired with "mouth" of all things, she doesn't know. It's got something to do with an ancient naming tradition, she thinks. "Hi," she says, a faintly curious smile on her maw. "I'm Bellona. Don't like nicknames." That seems like it's missing something, so she adds, "Welcome." The rest of their conversation is incomprehensible to her, so she settles on giving Red a pointedly confused stare.
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    INFORMATION — 10/01/2016

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  • WHERE IS MY MIND **JOINER

    [fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px; width: 420px; text-align: justify; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px;]Her eyes flicker over to Darkpaw for a moment, head tilting ever so slightly, before she continues staring patiently at Red. Being named after a Goddess in her village is no joke, especially when most other dingoes had been called Leaf or Stick or something like that. Her height? Not a point of issue for her either; being the only child in a community filled with adults made her quick to lose any sort of indignation at being smaller than others. Still, that doesn't mean she won't bite anyone who mentions it, even if it's Red. Who's sort of becoming... more than just another name to forget. "Drug? Money? Pissbaby? Funds?" she asks, still cheerfully patient as she chirps out more words for him to define for her. He's pretty knowledgeable.


    She listens in silence, head cocked more fully to the side, as they resume their conversation, tail making slow, lazy sweeps while her ears twitch and turn to catch every word. Finally, she chimes in, "Is a Batman a human that looks like a bat? Like the Bruce Wayne?"


    / dark pls. red pls. bell pls. all three of them pls.
    edit: wrong account fuckdammit
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    INFORMATION — 10/01/2016

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  • BLUE LIPS, BLUE VEINS [♚] STORAGE/TESTING

    [fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px; width: 420px; text-align: justify; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px;]updated tags!!
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    INFORMATION — 10/04/2016

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  • BLUE LIPS, BLUE VEINS [♚] STORAGE/TESTING

    [fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px; width: 420px; text-align: justify; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px;]minor edit oops
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    INFORMATION — 10/04/2016

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  • BLUE LIPS, BLUE VEINS [♚] STORAGE/TESTING

    [fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px; width: 420px; text-align: justify; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px;]i think this is complete for now?
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    INFORMATION — 10/05/2016

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  • BLUE LIPS, BLUE VEINS [♚] STORAGE/TESTING

    [fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px; width: 420px; text-align: justify; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px;]NO IT'S NOT WHY DID IT DISAPPEAR
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    INFORMATION — 10/05/2016

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  • BLUE LIPS, BLUE VEINS [♚] STORAGE/TESTING

    [fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px; width: 420px; text-align: justify; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px;]human au tags heyy. i am not content with the physicality section send help.
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    INFORMATION — 10/05/2016

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  • BLUE LIPS, BLUE VEINS [♚] STORAGE/TESTING

    [fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px; width: 420px; text-align: justify; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px;]soft screaming
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    INFORMATION — 10/05/2016

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  • BLUE LIPS, BLUE VEINS [♚] STORAGE/TESTING

    [fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px; width: 420px; text-align: justify; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px;]rolls around on the floor
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    INFORMATION — 10/05/2016

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  • YOU DON'T DECIEVE ME / OPEN, BODY CHANGE

    [fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px; width: 420px; text-align: justify; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px;]Vulnerable— now that's a word she knows like the back of her paw. Her first few nights in ShadowClan, she curled up in a secluded, hard-to-find corner and slept with one eye open, the other barely skimming a dream. Not that she did anything less than that before ShadowClan; she's always been a skittish sleeper, waking with the quietest breath, the lightest touch, and (preferably) at dawn's first fragile rays. Pure habit, now, has her up with the rise of the sun, blinking from sleep to wakefulness with no process in between. She mimics her previous torpor convincingly as she reaches out into her environment with her senses of sound and smell, swiftly assessing the area for danger. Assured that there's no one present, she wakes, stands up, and slips through the temple's corridors to head outside. A drink of water, a bite to eat, and then whatever else the morning brings— that's her plan. Her hours are dull and void of constant scavenging now; there's nothing to do. So whatever else happens, she'll just work with it.


    She doesn't get very far when she hears cursing. Quiet, frustrated cursing. Curiosity (she can indulge in it more often now) gets the better of her and she switches direction to trace the source of the voice. Not an adult animal, she reasons, so if whoever this is decides to transfer their fury onto her, it'll at least be someone of a similar age, and with less experience than a grown creature. Rounding the corner, she blinks once at the unfamiliar canine with— she recognizes those weird things on the ground, those are Darkpaw's, Red's friend. Caution edges her confidence, and she says (head tipped to one side, limbs taut like a spring, eyes sharp with watchfulness), "Who're you?" Then, because acting friendly and concerned might provide better results, she adds, "Are you okay?"


    / !!!! also i am not satisfied with this post but w/e
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    INFORMATION — 10/05/2016

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  • BLUE LIPS, BLUE VEINS [♚] STORAGE/TESTING


    [fancypost bgcolor=;border:0px;font-size:20px;font-family:arial;letter-spacing:-1px;text-shadow:3px 3px 3px black][b][color=#dfd3e1]FIND ME WHERE THE WILD THINGS ARE[/fancypost]


    [fancypost bgcolor=;border:0px;font-size:22px;font-family:arial;letter-spacing:-1px;text-shadow:3px 3px 3px black][b][color=#dfd3e1]I AM NOT THROWING AWAY MY SHOT[/fancypost]


    [fancypost bgcolor=;border:0px;font-size:22px;font-family:arial;letter-spacing:-1px;text-shadow:3px 3px 3px black][b][color=#dfd3e1]I'M YOUNG, SCRAPPY, AND HUNGRY[/fancypost]


    [fancypost bgcolor=;border:0px;font-size:18px;font-family:arial;letter-spacing:-1px;text-shadow:3px 3px 3px black][b][color=#dfd3e1]FOR THE FIRST TIME I'M THINKING PAST TOMORROW[/fancypost]


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    [fancypost bgcolor=;border:0px;font-size:20px;font-family:arial;letter-spacing:-1px;text-shadow:3px 3px 3px black][b][color=#fabec8]FIND ME WHERE THE WILD THINGS ARE[/fancypost]


    [fancypost bgcolor=;border:0px;font-size:22px;font-family:arial;letter-spacing:-1px;text-shadow:3px 3px 3px black][b][color=#fabec8]I AM NOT THROWING AWAY MY SHOT[/fancypost]


    [fancypost bgcolor=;border:0px;font-size:22px;font-family:arial;letter-spacing:-1px;text-shadow:3px 3px 3px black][b][color=#fabec8]I'M YOUNG, SCRAPPY, AND HUNGRY[/fancypost]


    [fancypost bgcolor=;border:0px;font-size:18px;font-family:arial;letter-spacing:-1px;text-shadow:3px 3px 3px black][b][color=#fabec8]FOR THE FIRST TIME I'M THINKING PAST TOMORROW[/fancypost]

  • THIS KID'S NOT ALRIGHT / PRIVATE

    [fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px; width: 420px; text-align: justify; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px;]Unlike Tim, whose sporadic sleeping hours make his decision-making skills questionable at best, the significantly less sleep-deprived girl with her choppy hair in a messy bun is taking the easier route inside. Producing a set of lockpicks from the pockets of her cargo pants (these pants have a lot of pockets; she likes these pants), Bellona gets to work with a watchful eye on the area around her. Lockpicking doesn't have much use when you live down in the sewers (which are, objectively speaking, much worse than shitty apartments, but she's used enough to the former that she'd have to disagree), and indeed her hard-won expertise were going to waste there until she found herself scurrying around like a mangy rat on the surface. There's always a door to jiggle open somewhere up here, even though the smoke-laden air still makes her cough and sneeze, and the way things work around here are markedly different. But she's nearly fully acclimated to her new environment, and she's no longer overwhelmed by all the sights and sounds and smells. And whenever she needs a hand (she's not helpless, there's just a lot of things to keep track of) she's got the two boys she's incontrovertibly adopted as companions to badger into an explanation.


    With a click, the door swings open and she strides in just in time to hear the word princess. She feels her eyebrows lift upward and she cocks her head to the side, restoring her lockpicks into her pocket. Pulling off the dark green parka she's taken to wearing everywhere (except here; it's ridiculously warm here), she walks over to lean against the back of the couch on Jason's other side. "If he's a princess, what am I?" she asks, tying the parka around her waist and folding her red flannel shirt's sleeves at the elbow. She inclines further forward over the back of the couch to peer up at Tim from across Jason. "I picked the lock. It was easier that way." The you should have followed me instead of scaling the fucking building, Timothy goes unsaid except for the pointed look in her eyes. Recalling the last bits of their conversation, she adds, "And you both need sleep. I don't know how you're both still alive." Glancing down at Jason's torso (this is one of the few ways she can be taller than him) her brows knit together. "You're hurt."


    / here i am
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    INFORMATION — 10/05/2016

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  • UP IN SMOKE [♚] SKULL'S SHIT

    [fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px; width: 450px; text-align: justify; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px;]how old are red and dark


    also i have no fucking clue how to sort bellona?? hfjdjdjd send fucking help idk what im doiNG,, i mean i know for sure that she isnt a gryff or huff primary, or a raven or gryff secondary,, bUT THAT STILL LEAVES 4 POSSIBILITIES
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    INFORMATION — 11/28/2016

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