Posts by PERSEUS;

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general updates!! and also, icons
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/ post joining thread ofc, kinda lost motivation for those

This was a pretty nice place. A little bit weird, but he thinks that he's already said that — he says it about pretty much every place that he visits or joins or... Whatever he does. Nobody had seen Marauder yet, as far as he knows. (Maybe he wasn't anywhere? Was he okay? Was he still looking for him?) The boy tries not to think like that, especially considering that he doesn't want to make himself or anyone else sad, but it goes without saying that he misses his guardian figure. Perseus tells himself that he'll find him soon, but then again, he's been saying that for a month or so now. (It's okay, it's okay, he's somewhere out there.) In an attempt to distract himself, the Child finds his attention turning back towards an old hobby of his, string held between his teeth and manipulated with nimble paws. He ties knot after knot in the string until his paws are numb and aching, and only after what feels like hours does he stop and go over his work. There aren't many mistakes anymore, with how long he had been practicing, and the clouded leopard is even smile as he looks over the pile of friendship bracelets nearby.

Like he had done in both ShadowClan and SunClan, Perc stretches and kneads his paws into the ground, glancing around for anyone nearby. "Does anyone want a friendship bracelet? You gotta do a few things first, though." It became a bit of a tradition with him, handing out these bracelets whenever he was staying. (Marauder's not here this time, and that makes him nervous in a way he doesn't like. It will be okay.)
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It wasn't really hope, necessarily. While he feels like Marauder won't want him back, deep down he knows that he does. And even if he doesn't show up ever again, he knows that Marauder still wants to be with him. Can't other people think like that, too? It's not naivety, really. He's just trying to make the most of what he has, and it's not much, in the long run. He really only knows two people: Marauder and Bat. The others had been nice to him, but he didn't really know them. Maybe he could start, now. The clouded leopard finds himself giggling at the first two people that approach, because they immediately jumped to what Marauder hat thought, too. The whole "I'm not gonna do it" thing, at least with Felicita. (He missed the caracal a lot, clearly.) "You're gonna get one too," he insists, looking at the pile with a bright grin. As it was habit now, the small feline pushes them all into a neat line in front of him. "You don't have to do anything weird, I promise. Just tell me your name and your favorite thing in the world." And because he can't give himself a bracelet and might as well set an example instead, he raises a pale paw towards his own chest.

"I'm Perseus an' people call me Perc or Percy. My favorite thing is..." The child pauses and frowns, because he doesn't really know what he likes anymore. He likes it when Marauder would read to him, and the warmth of his jacket. He liked when Bat turned gold, and he liked trees. But those weren't very impressive facts, after all. "I like reading," the boy says, even if he himself can't understand more than a handful of words. That sound a bit better than all of those other things, even if it's not his favorite favorite. "Now it's your turn! Then say what colors you want."
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He doesn't like watching people break. Or thinking about it, or — or whatever. Even just a little bit of sadness is enough to make him unhappy, simply because he hates seeing people like that. A stranger, a friend. (Then again, he's growing angry enough that seeing someone who's wronged him sad didn't bother him in the least. Should he feel bad for that? He doesn't.) Everyone calls themselves broken, but Perseus finds that they really are. Or perhaps he has simply learned to take a liking to shattered glass and barbed wire. Did he see it as a challenge? An obstacle course? Or was it simply pretty? Did he not care for the fact that it threatened to leave him bleeding? Marauder had only truly hurt his feelings once, he thinks, and it had been alright shortly after. And Perseus, despite his rather unremarkable size and strength, it something of a force of nature. He didn't break people, and he hardly molded, but he was stubborn from all that he'd been through. The boy has made a habit of embracing people who think themselves damaged — he likes Bat, and he likes Marauder, and they're both killers, and they're both more than they think they are. (He has a type of person, apparently.)

"Why?" It's a constant question, one that he never ceases to ask of anything that people say to him. And this time, he isn't sure if there's a real answer to be had. Would he know why change had picked him? Was it fate? Did Bat want to be whatever he is now. (A lion? Perc isn't sure. He hadn't learned most species, yet. He still doesn't know what Marauder is.) Bat answers the next why before Perseus even asks it, and he looks at him with a tilted head before nodding his assent. It would make sense that he didn't know. It was new. "I like it," he says decisively, like he had been debating his verdict since he noticed. "You look like fireflies." That's not much of an explanation, but he likes it. He's already said that. Bat's greeting has him laughing, a little bit of a giggle. It's a little bit late, that hello, but he doesn't mind it. The smile falls at his question, one pale paw twisting in the ground, darkening eyes following swiftly. "No, not yet. But I'm not done looking, either." He pauses. "Are the other people here? The ones I met last time? I wanted to thank everybody. For helping me."
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Perseus didn't know anything about politics. He'd been promoted, once, and had promptly stepped down out of nervousness, and because Marauder hadn't seemed to like it very much. So he certainly doesn't understand what it means for someone to need to ask to come talk, or something like that. (The child still randomly shows up in clans that he likes; he never joins a place without his guardian present.) "What's a wish lantern? What are you?" Was that rude? Perhaps, but nobody had every really taught him much about manners. The boy asks whatever comes to mind unless he figures that it would be really mean or really bad timing, and even though Seija is being serious, this can't be that bad of timing, right? He doesn't know anything about Light or Darkness — the only god he'd ever heard of was Zowie's Christian God, and even that was a concept that he didn't quite understand. Perseus turns back towards the older LithiumClanner with a curious look in muddy eyes. "Can we go make lanterns?" It sounded kind of like what he did with bracelets. You made a wish on those, too. But this seemed even cooler, so far.
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/ THIS GOT WAY TOO LONG BC OF EMOTIONS,,, the last paragraph is the only one that matters. And don't worry, he's still gonna be hanging around LC!

The world had been so much smaller a few months ago. Two months old, and he hadn't know anything about anything. He knew that he was a clouded leopard, that birds were colorful, and that the rain was loud. He knew what it was like to feel safe at night and sheltered under a gentle touch, but in this safety, he'd been missing out on so much. By stumbling away into ShadowClan (that's what he thinks he knows, at least), he'd opened up a door that couldn't be closed again. He didn't know that people could look like they did. Dogs weren't a thing before ShadowClan, and there was something pretty cool about seeing a giant reptile with wings for the first time. He'd gotten his ear pierced, figured out what a god was, and found out that sometimes people hurt each other on purpose. That had been a strange thought, though now Perseus was caught up in a whirlwind of who deserved what and why and then more why, because it didn't make sense. Why hurt each other? What did you get out of that? The world had been smaller, and the boy still couldn't decide if he was okay with the hugeness of it. Maybe it was better off small.

Marauder had always done more than his part when it came to shielding him from the world's darkness, but he himself was kind of a looming shadow. That was okay, because it's not like Perc had ever had trouble seeing past that. He was prickly and rude and he got himself hurt a lot (it's no surprise that the clouded leopard is still upset about him coming back like that, asking for duct tape of all things), but he liked reading, he didn't let anyone be mean to him, and he let him sleep in his hood. And Perseus knows that he's annoying and needy and asks too many questions, but Marauder never really tried to make him stop. So logically, he's kept himself hopeful for the last month or so by telling himself that no matter what, the caracal wouldn't have given up on him.

It had taken him perhaps two weeks to forget what his parents felt like. It had been over a month and a half since he'd seen Marauder and Perseus can remember his voice in vivid detail, and the slight scratchiness of his hood when he curled up there to sleep. That's his dad, though at this point he doesn't think he can say that. (Not because it's any less true, but because he keeps worrying that he doesn't want him anymore. Besides, Perc will always call him Marauder unless he's angry.) He'd been about to leave this place too, he thinks. He'd come back, of course, he liked it here, but he had to keep going. He'd only stayed in WindClan long enough to hear that nobody knew about anyone named Marauder. He'd passed through DarkClan, too, and HawkClan a few times. When he says that the world had gotten so much larger, he means it literally. From a solitary treehouse to dozens of people that all belong in different places, it feels like there's not enough room in his head for anything new, but he has to keep going. Standing still was a death sentence in his mind now, too used to running away ever night and sleeping in trees to make himself hard to catch.

"Marauder?" For a moment he thinks that he's imagining it. He doesn't know why he would, but maybe his brain is just trying to be nice to him. After being told that wishes didn't really come true, that Santa wasn't a thing, maybe some part of him had given up hope. Just a bit. Just enough. The boy remembers waking up in that cage being terrified because he didn't know where he was or what he could do. While he's grown up in this last month, something about him still shatters like glass. "Marauder." His voice cracks and he scrambles forward, past the LithiumClanners that seemed to want to protect him already, fighting the limp that's been dogging him for a few clans now in a rush to make sure that it's really him. "It's okay," he assures them, near-strangers as they are. "He's —" Just as prickly. Not as okay. Neither as he. World seemingly lost to him and a month torn off his shoulders, the leopard desperately pushes up with his hind legs to try and drag him closer for a hug, or perhaps to drag himself upwards and into the safety of the hood that he's so desperately missed. "Marauder."
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A meeting. Perseus hadn't been to a meeting since ShadowClan, probably, but he likes being here. He's a bit older now, and a tiny bit more mature, even if he mostly just wants to go curl up with Marauder for a few more days, the boy stumbles towards this place with a long, drawn-out yawn. A long, ringed tail curls over his hind legs, and he waits for the new leader to speak.
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It felt nice to be here again. He'd known from the moment he was gone that he didn't want to be, of course, but there was something different about being placed so carefully there again, safe and sound. He could feel Marauder's warmth under his paws and the slight scratch of his hood, and he was talking. The boy was affectionate, that went without saying. That was a voice that he'd fallen asleep to before, and even though he'd been missing it for a month, he could remember it clearly. And beneath his joy, Perseus knows that Marauder's still angry, but that's okay. He thinks that he's angry too, just not in the same way and not for the same reason. People did take him away, after all, and that wasn't fair. But this person had hurt other kids too, and made it so that all they could do was hurt each other. There were a few people he followed around for a while, but none of them wanted him, none of them picked him over the other little kids following people around. Maybe that hurt a little bit, but the clouded leopard is content in the fact that Marauder would choose him, that he'd been walking everywhere yelling at people to get him back.

It was fairly amusing, and once he'd stopped crying out of sheer relief, Percy had found himself laughing about it even though it wasn't funny. Kind of like what he'd done with Seija. He knew that there was a sad reason behind it, but it was the thing itself that always had him laughing. The child rarely looked into motives, too caught up in watching the thing happen, yet it had been bothering him lately. Why? Why take him, and all those other kids? Why hurt people at all? Why did they all seem so sad? Is that just what the world did to people who had been in it too long? He doesn't want to end up like that, but those are such somber thoughts for a little kid to be having. Stuck between the pain of that trauma (he's glad that Marauder hadn't found him right afterwards, actually — he only would have been angrier, 'cause everything was worse when it was fresh) and the joy of having escaped it, Perc finds himself laughing even though he still feels nervous. Laughing and chattering away about the friend he had made — just one, really, but everyone had to start somewhere. (Surprisingly, the chatterbox would never have too many friends.)

"He's way cooler than a mood ring," the child protests indignantly, voice pitching higher as he defends his friend with a bat towards Marauder's ear. Not much of a rebuke, but he'd poke him for sure later. For now, he's settled in a safe little dip around his shoulders, shifting faintly every time he takes a step, with pale paws stretching towards his neck. And to be completely honest, he doesn't want to move much. At least until he hears the caracal speak, that is. Then it's a quick scramble up towards his head, waiting excitedly for someone to come say hi. (Not that people like saying hi to Marauder, because he does things like that — the boy gives him a tap on top of his head, still not too sharp.) "Be nice."
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Perseus looks personally offended when Ignacio runs between Marauder's legs. It's not something that lasts, thankfully, or the child might have gone so far as to act on how offended he felt, but he still makes a point of settling there himself when the weird lizard thing was out of the way. Though he tries for sitting down, it doesn't take more than a second for the clouded leopard to instead end up half-curled on the floor, head on one of the caracal's paws. The older feline was right that he would enjoy this, but it was probably getting close to his semi- self-imposed bedtime, and it had been too long since he got to fall asleep listening to someone talk. (Granted, it wouldn't be quite the same as Marauder's stories, but he could ask for those later.) "What's an autobiography? Are these gonna be scary stories?"
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He joins the group with a dramatic sigh, at least for a child. The noise escapes in a puff as he lightly headbutts Marauder's leg, then proceeds to take his usual place beneath them, partially hidden under his chest. He would like to say that he hadn't been a part of the classical name club, but apparently Perseus was some old time hero. Did that count? He didn't really want it to. That would mean that he was part of a club that Marauder wasn't, and that wasn't very cool. He didn't want to, at least. The boy offers one of his typically bright laughs, bubbling like water, even though there's a faintly nervous air to him when he greets Jacques. "Bellona said that too." Nobody would know who she was except Marauder, because she'd joined back in ShadowClan, but the boy had liked the dingo pup for the whole two minutes that he had known her. "I don't think you have to do anything. We didn't. People're just... Nice." No they weren't, not all the time, but they would have to trust that this stranger was. The clouded leopard didn't like that much.
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/ relatable, sorry everyone

For all the times that Perseus ends up rebuking Marauder for something or another (stop being a jerk, don't scare them, smile more, answer my questions), he's not sure that he could ever allow someone else to do the same. It wasn't even that he saw his guardian figure as perfect or something like that. He wasn't. He was rude and prickly and he was sarcastic too much and sometimes he was a little scary. But even if he liked Batpup a lot, Marauder was the best thing since sliced bread, at least to him. You know, he couldn't even say that the caracal was the only person to put up with him or something. In ShadowClan, lots of people had been nice to him, and Marauder wasn't even one of them. He tried to push him away a lot (had done so physically, once, though it was gentle) and didn't like his questions. Why had the child stuck with him? Because he was interesting. Because he pretended that he couldn't hear him when he was stuck in a tree, and wore jackets so worn down that maybe they should just be thrown away (he would never think to say that, of course), and because not many people bothered to see his light.

He was rude and prickly and sarcastic and scary, but he liked to read and he made sure that good people were safe, in his own weird way. He never let you rest peacefully with what you think was right, and he puts other people before himself. Even if he does it in a very grumpy fashion.

"He's like you," the boy answers without thought, paws kneading idly into dyed fur for a short moment. That phrase doesn't really make sense. The best thing since sliced bread. Sliced bread had always been around, right? You probably sliced bread to eat it, unless you just sorta tore the loaf apart. Perc would think about this later. For now, he has a caracal to look after. "You hafta waste time if you're gonna be nice." It's nice to meet you, how do you do? Perseus likely has fewer manners than the older of this particular dynamic duo, in all honesty, but he's nice. Accidentally rude, like asking what sort of thing someone was, or why they had the face that they did. Marauder was intentionally rude. (That was okay, though.)

Muddy blue eyes drift to the jaguar as the approach, and he finds himself oddly delighted to find someone else with spots. It's a weird thing to miss, in a land of giant lizards and things with floppy ears, but stripes or flat colors seemed to be all the rage in the animal kingdom, and the clouded leopard scrambles a bit higher to get a better look, thankfully just in time to also bat at dark ear tufts again. "Stoppit," the boy says with an exaggerated sigh, like he was the tired parent here. They were both annoying in their own way, though. Perc talked a mile a minute and Marauder threatened anything that breathed. They balanced out, sorta. But honestly, as a combination, they were both just more annoying. Compound annoyingness. He likes that. "Hey, you look kinda like me." His voice is kind of delighted after the strange cat accepts them. He's bigger than both of them combined, but Marauder could still beat him. (Spoken like a child with a hero, right?)

He's always been safe with Marauder around, but the child still kneads his paws anxiously against him at the idea of being intentionally scarred. He already has one of those, at an oh-so-ancient four months old, and the bite mark on his hindquarters is not something he wants to repeat anytime soon, intentional or not. But he said no, anyway, so Percy tries to distract himself with one of his usual questions, this time murmured towards the caracal. "What's a tipi?" Marauder didn't seem to like that idea much, but as long as it looked cool, he would be okay with it. The need for strong walls is something that the younger half is learning to share, but anything that could be considered a shelter is appreciated by someone who spent almost a month without much of one at all. At least his guardian figure is calming down now, not as angry. Not as... Fighty? Perseus didn't have a word for what he was, but he was fighty. A weird mix of angry and sad. Mostly angry.

The same distraction takes the attention of both joiners at the same time. The shadow surprises him first, and he watches it overtake both of them before lifting his head in surprise. Tall things are nothing new, but this is a weird tall thing. "What're you," he asks with obvious confusion. "Where are your toes?" He looked sort of like a deer, which Perseus had only seen once, in the hunger games, but he hadn't gotten a good enough look at the thing. This one didn't have antlers, though, and it seemed pretty colorful for a deer. So not a deer, maybe? He stares at the stuff adorning the creature and then kneads another confused, anxious circle against Marauder. "So... Not Seabiscuit?"

They did make a weird little pair, Perseus and Marauder. The boy was stuck between believing everything and nothing that the older feline said, and doing what he said and exactly what he said not to do, but he was safe and good, and it was nice of him to do things like this. Let Perc sit on his back and talk his ears off, make sure that every place is safe before they stay there, which is especially nice because for how brave he wanted to be, he was at the point in healing where everyone he didn't know made him nervous. The kid was with the asshole because he was safe, and both of them had ended up wandering half the world to get that back. Marauder may be kind of arrogant, in that weird defensive way of his, but he didn't have any demons in him. "You don't have shoes, Marauder," he points out with a dip of his head towards very shoeless paws and then a glance back up to Emmanuel anyway. "He didn't mean that. Thanks though. Don't need anything."
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Perseus wasn't upset because he'd gotten hurt.

That was, perhaps, the most prominent mark of an innocent soul, one that forgave someone for hurting it without question, and then turned to ask if the person doing the injuring was okay. The boy is covered in cuts and bruises, littering his sides and back. His head was well-protected, as was his stomach, so nothing was really fatal, anyway. The worst of the injuries was a somewhat deep cut on his exposed shoulder, almost from between his shoulder blades to to the edge of his elbow. And even that wasn't that bad, really. It just made it so walking hurt a little bit — more than a little bit, really, especially considering that it meant he wasn't able to keep up with Bat once all of it was over. And if Perseus is anything of a mess after this, that's the reason for it. He doesn't think that he's cried a lot in his life. Once, when he was alone in the hunger games. Another when he found Marauder, though those were happy tears. Now there are tears in his eyes yet again, the boy struggling with feelings that he couldn't really talk about. Not unless he wanted Marauder to get mad at his one friend in the world. That wouldn't be good, especially considering that Bat is already mad at himself for it.

That's the problem. He doesn't want him to be upset, he doesn't want him to hurt. Perseus is sitting at the edge of ScarClan's camp on the forest side, and it feels weird to think that he can ask for help with this. He doesn't know what it is, really, but maybe it's just because he's been in the hunger games and on his own and — he got used to hiding his injuries, that was all. But he's got Marauder now — no, he doesn't want Marauder to know, he just — "I need some — some bandages?" He doesn't mean for his voice to shake.

[injuries: cuts and bruises. longer gash on his left shoulder as well as slight burns on the same side. nothing too traumatizing.]
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He looks mad. Not at him; rationally, Perseus knows that. It's not really his fault, and all he asked for was bandages, anyway, but things had changed since he got captured. The boy finds himself fighting a need to shrink a little bit, though strangely enough it's paired with an urge to hide under him. It was something that he hadn't been able to do anything about, when he was stuck with a bunch of other children who tolerated him at best, and would likely abandon him if he ended up as deadweight. They didn't want him that close, and he couldn't let himself be seen as weak anyway. But Marauder is angry and he doesn't like people being angry at him anymore. Anxious paws knead into the winter-dead ground, yet he goes from nervous to defiant when the caracal asks for the person responsible. "Marauder, no, it's not like that, he didn't —" The boy chews on his own cheek, an expression learned from watching him, but his isn't angry. "It's not like that, don't be mad."

It wasn't fair to blame people for what they didn't really do. Perc knows what it's like to be cautious, of course, but there's something different. He doesn't think that Leonardo da Vinci (how did you shorten that?) had done much wrong, though not everyone was perfect, either. Marauder doesn't seem to like him, but that wasn't really surprising. Marauder didn't really like anyone. Muddied eyes flicker between the two adults, a subtle lean to his body as if he's liable to hide under the caracal at any moment, yet he calms down instead. Or he tries to. The boy couldn't say what exactly it was about the injuries throbbing on his skin that make him flightier than usual, maybe it's just because he'd learned to run when someone wanted to hurt him, but they don't deserve that. He breathes. "Could you see my injuries?" The question is a good sign, at least — he wouldn't ask if he didn't think that it was an okay time, or if he thought he wasn't safe with the two adults.
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old tags
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new tags?
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You know, a Win/Perseus hybrid would actually be really adorable. But this would also probably ruin Marauder's day. Christmas Day updates. Cute lil Perc.
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