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themissinglynx · 2 years

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A Documentation of Changes to the Allegiances

So everyone’s probably noted minute changes among the allegiances over the years, but this is here to compile a comprehensive list of changes either in Clan size, the presence or absence of ranks, which cats get descriptions (or even mentioned), how many Thunderclan (and in later arcs Shadowclan) cats from book one survive to the beginning of next arc’s book one, and so on.

This will be going by arc and skipping DotC because it’s not relevant to this conversation. I’ll also include Dovewing’s Silence and Bramblestar’s Storm, as they help cover the timeskip between OotS and AVOS (and were released while DotC was doing its thing).

Also spoilers for the entirety of The Broken Code and I will not be going into A Starless Clan’s changes in allegiances as as of this writing, we only have River out and the allegiances and first few chapters of Sky have not been revealed. Although once the final book of ASC comes out, I will reblog this post with updates to the allegiances.

Also as one final note, I am calling the “perma-queens” by a name that’s less stupid.

The Prophecies Begin

Into the Wild

Thunderclan population consists of 25 listed cats; when including kits and Rosetail, that bumps it up to 33 cats (and of those 33 cats, only 13 of them will survive to TNP)

Famously, Shadowclan has a paltry amount of members, and you can count Windclan and Riverclan’s listed cast on one hand. Shadowclan apprentices do not have descriptions.

Also famously, there are four queens listed, though from inference and semi-retcons, Frostfur, Goldenflower, and Speckletail are the only cats who actually have kits. Brindleface at the beginning of Into the Wild shouldn’t even be pregnant, as the book takes place over the span of three months and, while they’re apprenticed late, it’d be ludicrous to assume they’re born in mid-summer and then apprenticed the spring afterward. If one were to be remaking the allegiances of Into the Wild with more modern philosophies of listing, Brindleface would be a warrior.

Longtail is described as a young warrior, having finished is training two moons ago. While Mousefur and Runningwind are also young warriors, they’re young warriors in the same way Stonefur and Mistyfoot are. Despite this, Longtail is listed above Mousefur and Runningwind.

Fire and Ice

Windclan and Riverclan’s numbers match the paltry amount of cats within Shadowclan. Again, no apprentice section or descriptions given to said apprentices. Is Brownpaw brown? Is Silverpaw silver? The world may never know...

Forest of Secrets

Upon being promoted to warriors, Dustpelt and Sandstorm are placed at the bottom of the warriors list. Also Cinderpelt is listed as Yellowfang’s apprentice despite the fact she has her full name. Despite all of Frostfur’s kits being apprenticed, she’s still listed as a queen.

Crowfur of Windclan and Greenflower of Riverclan made appearances, but were not listed in the allegiances.

Rising Storm

Mindbogglingly, upon Brackenfur’s promotion to warrior status, he’s placed above Dustpelt and Sandstorm. Willowpelt has also moved into the nursery and despite Brindleface’s kits being apprenticed, she’s still listed as a queen.

A Dangerous Path

Frostfur and Brindleface have been moved to the warriors section, between Darkstripe and Longtail.

The Darkest Hour

Goldenflower has left the nursery, but is at the bottom of the warriors section, when if it was sorted by age, she’d be at the top of the list. Frostfur is just above her and the new warrior Cloudtail is beneath the both of them.

Despite being siblings with top-of-the-list Thornpaw, Brightheart (listed as Lostface in the allegiances) is at the bottom of the apprentices section.

The New Prophecy

Midnight

Thunderclan’s population consists of 26 listed cats; when including Ferncloud’s unlisted kits, that bumps it up to 29 cats. Of the 29 cats, 19 will survive to Po3.

Goldenflower has moved back into the nursery, despite not being pregnant with or nursing kits of her own. In a similar vein, Ferncloud has become a matriarch of Thunderclan and has never appeared as a warrior.

Crowpaw is the only non-Thunderclan apprentice with a given description, which is justified in that he’s a major character.

Mothwing is listed as Mudfur’s apprentice, which at least makes sense in the context that she trained as a warrior first and then became a medicine cat.

Moonrise

Nothing special here

Dawn

Applekit, Toadkit, and Marshkit of Shadowclan, Gorsetail of Windclan and Tumblekit of Riverclan made appearances, but were not listed in the allegiances.

This is the book I somewhat consider “Eclipse Lite” due to its inclusion of a bunch of random new cats from other Clans. Nightwing of Shadowclan, Robinwing, Thistlepaw, and Oatwhisker of Windclan, and Swallowtail, Dawnflower, Volepaw, Splashpaw, and Stonepaw of Riverclan all spontaneously appear.

Aside from Cats Outside the Clans, Midnight the Badger features in a new category called “Other Animals”.

Starlight

Spiderpaw has spontaneously dropped beneath Whitepaw despite being older than her.

Despite dying on-page last book from gravity and rocks, Smokepaw of Shadowclan still appears as Oakfur’s apprentice until the end of the arc.

Darkfoot and Nightcloud of Windclan made appearances, but were not listed in the allegiances.

Twilight

Despite having earned her full name, Leafpool is still listed as an apprentice.

Despite dying on-page last book from aggressive kittypets, Talonpaw of Shadowclan still appears as Rowanclaw’s apprentice.

Tumblekit of Riverclan made an appearance, but was not listed in the allegiances.

The Cats Outside the Clans section has been renamed to Other Animals to account for the very not cats Midnight the Badger and Pip the Terrier alongside the barn cats Smoky, Daisy, and Floss.

Sunset

Daisy has joined Thunderclan as a matriarch.

Daisy’s kits and Sorreltail’s kits are not listed in the allegiances at all.

Ferncloud is still listed as “mother of Dustpelt’s kits” despite Birchpaw being an apprentice and she likely not yet being pregnant with Icekit and Foxkit.

Tallpoppy is listed as a queen despite her kits being (what’s implied to be) Birchpaw’s age. I’ll elaborate more in the next entry.

Power of Three

The Sight

Thunderclan’s population consists of 32 listed cats. However I’m not going to count Stormfur and Brook since they’re only staying in the Clans as refugees so that bumps it down to 30 cats. Graystripe and Millie joins Thunderclan in this book, so that bumps Thunderclan’s headcount back up to 32. Molepaw, Rainwhisker, and Goldenflower have also conspicuously disappeared between arcs. Anyway, on the 32 cats I’m actually counting, the only deaths this arc are of Honeyfern and Ashfur and Hollyleaf famously gets put on a bus by the end of the arc.

Finally kittens are listed alongside their mothers in the nursery! At least only for Thunderclan.

Apprentices of other Clans still are not given descriptions and kittens of other Clans are still entirely unknown.

A noteworthy absence of Tallpoppy’s kits: Applepaw and Toadpaw. They’re described as close to Birchpaw in age, who’s a warrior named Birchfall now. Why aren’t they listed?

Similarly, the hilarious error of Smokefoot featuring in Shadowclan. Sure, this technically is a different cat than TNP’s dead apprentice (who’s dark gray, not black like Smokefoot), and while it’s not unheard of for two cats with the same prefix to be in the same Clan at once (Mousewhisker and Mousefur, Silverpaw and Silverstream, Lizardfang and Lizardstripe, etc), it still insinuates the idea that the Erins forgot Smokepaw died and made him a warrior.

Dark River

After moving out of the nursery, Squirrelflight is placed at the top of the warriors section. Likewise, Graystripe and Millie are placed at the bottom of the list.

Icekit and Foxkit are given descriptions!

Tawnypelt of Shadowclan, Gorsetail of Windclan (different cat than the earlier one), and Graymist of Riverclan have named kittens listed after them, but unlike Icekit and Foxkit, they’re not described.

Dawnflower of Riverclan remains in the nursery after her kits’ are made apprentices despite never mothering another litter in the future. Mayhaps she’s a matriarch herself?

Outcast

A wild Toadfoot is spotted in Shadowclan! Where’s his sister tho? Also Tawnypelt’s kits have disappeared.

Icewing has had her kits! And sadly, Dawnflower has returned to her warrior duties. Mayhaps she wasn’t a matriarch after all...

Eclipse

Oh boy, here’s the big one! This is the book that adds a bunch of brand-new warriors into all the Clans! All of them are placed beneath the previously established warriors, which ends up with the canonically older Ratscar beneath the young warrior Toadfoot. Here are the new additions:

Crowfrost, Kinkfur, Ratscar, Snaketail, Whitewater, Olivepaw, Shrewpaw, Scorchpaw, and Redpaw of Shadowclan

Leaftail, Dewspots, Willowclaw, Antpelt, Emberfoot, and Sunpaw of Windclan

Mintfur, Otterheart, Pinefur, Rainstorm, Duskfur, Nettlepaw, Robinpaw, and Copperpaw of Riverclan

Long Shadows

Cinderheart, Poppyfrost, and Honeyfern are listed beneath Lionblaze and Hollyleaf despite being older than and (at least for Honey and Poppy) made warriors before them.

Gorsetail returns to her warrior duties, situated between Nightcloud and Weaselfur. Likewise, Graymist returns to being a warrior herself, and she’s moved to between Rippletail and Dawnflower.

Willowshine has received her full name, yet is still listed as Mothwing’s apprentice.

Sunrise

A funny error has Jayfeather listed as Leafpool’s apprentice and he doesn’t feature in the apprentice section.

Apprentices from other Clans are finally given appearances! Still nothing on kittens though.

Omen of the Stars

The Fourth Apprentice

Thunderclan’s current headcount includes 36 cats (37 including the forgotten Millie). By the end of The Last Hope, six cats have died and seven new kits have been born. However, if we also include Dovewing’s Silence, Bramblestar’s Storm, and the ensuing timeskip, by the time The Apprentice’s Quest starts up, four other cats (not counting Seedpaw, whose entire life is within this timespan) die and five other kittens are born, plus Stormcloud joins.

OotS is a right mess.

Anyway, OotS starts with 37 cats and ends it with 38 cats, but only 26 cats from the beginning of OotS live to see the dawn of AVoS.

Upon being removed from her position as medicine cat, Leafpool has been placed right next to her sister Squirrelflight in the warriors section, somewhere midway through the list, between Thornclaw and Spiderleg. Graystripe has been moved to the top of the warriors section too.

Oh, there you are, Applefur, right next to your brother! Also Thistleheart of Windclan went missing.

The non-Thunderclan apprentices and kits from Po3 graduated into warriors during the timeskip and they’ve all been moved to the bottom of the list.

Flametail is listed as Littlecloud’s apprentice despite being a full medicine cat just like Willowshine.

Snowbird returns to her warrior duties after mothering her first litter (who never appears, but for the people taking notes, it’s Cloverfoot, Berryheart, and Buster/Rippletail ShC) and she’s placed below her retconned brother Ratscar.

Dapplenose and Pouncetail of Riverclan have moved into the elders’ den despite appearing as apprentices in The Sight and becoming warriors in Outcast.

Likewise, Duskfur and Mosspelt sit in the nursery for quite a while. While Duskfur apparently has Podkit and Curlkit during this time, as they feature in Mistystar’s Omen, but Mosspelt never has another litter after Willowshine, so what’s she doing there?

Speaking of the Riverclan nursery, Icewing is placed between Mintfur and Minnowtail in the middle of the list, now that three of her four kittens are warriors.

Fading Echoes

Upon returning to her warrior duties, Whitewing is placed below her (younger) mate Birchfall.

Kinkfur’s been sitting in the nursery for a while. Again, our look into the nursery is haphazard, but later books confirm her kittens to be Sparrowtail, Mistcloud, and Dewkit.

Night Whispers

Nothing special here

Sign of the Moon

Nothing special here

The Forgotten Warrior

Dovewing and Ivypool of Thunderclan and Pinenose, Ferretclaw, and Starlingwing of Shadowclan have become warriors and have been moved to the bottom of their respective lists.

Despite being made a warrior last book, Troutstream of Riverclan is still listed as an apprentice.

The Last Hope

Despite being Lionblaze’s sister, Hollyleaf is placed at the bottom of the warriors list.

Ivytail of Shadowclan has been a queen this entire arc, yet has not made any kits. Either she’s something like a matriarch or she has (off-page) kittens who die before or during the Great Battle. In her next appearances in Dovewing’s Silence and Bramblestar’s storm, she’s an elder.

Weaselkit is mentioned as Pinenose’s kit, but considering she literally just became a queen and not a lot of time occurs between her promotion and this kit dying, I’m unconvinced it’s Pinenose’s.

Stoatpaw of Shadowclan is a ginger tom who shows up in the book, but is never listed in the allegiances.

Despite being made warriors last book, Furzepelt of Windclan, and Mossyfoot and Hollowflight of Riverclan are still listed as apprentices. Likewise, Boulderfur features as a warrior, yet is still listed as an apprentice.

Dovewing’s Silence

Poppyfrost is misplaced towards the bottom of the warriors list after Molepaw and Cherrypaw are apprenticed.

Brightheart is supposed to be nursing Snowkit, Amberkit, and Dewkit, but she’s not in the nursery and the kits aren’t present.

Whiskernose of Windclan and Rushtail of Riverclan are never warriors. Well, technically they were, but as far as allegiances go, they were never warriors. Whiskernose and Rushtail became warriors in Sign of the Moon, yet were never listed as such in the allegiances. They both retire to elders here.

Pouncetail, Grasspaw, and Spikepaw (and Stoatfur but we’ll get to them later) of Shadowclan, Crouchfoot, Larkwing, Slightpaw, Featherpaw, Hootpaw, and Oatpaw of Windclan, and Shimmerpelt, Lakeheart, Heronwing, Lizardpaw, Havenpaw, and Perchpaw of Riverclan all spawn out of nowhere. Have another Eclipse Lite group.

Funnily enough, despite Larkwing and Featherpaw supposedly being Sedgewhisker’s children, she’s still in the nursery.

Willowshine is finally no longer listed as Mothwing’s apprentice.

Bramblestar’s Storm

Stoatfur of Shadowclan is a tortoiseshell and white molly who helps Thunderclan fight the badgers. Wake up, everybody, we got Rowanclaw 2.0 here, but now they have a completely different appearance! Problem is, in Dovewing’s Silence, they’re a tortoiseshell molly and in Crowfeather’s Trial, they’re a ginger tom, so who knows what they really look like? They only exist for this tiny timeskip era, so who knows?

A Vision of Shadows

The Apprentice’s Quest

This marks a few substantial changes to the allegiances: 1) The introduction of Skyclan into the other four Clans, 2) the introduction of more permanent non-Thunderclan POVs which will enable me to add Shadowclan to our population statistics, and 3) the death of the apprentice section of the allegiances. I assume this last one was due to the new management. Some fun occurrences happen because of this style of listing.

Thunderclan starts out the arc with 41 cats. 8 of these 41 cats don’t make it to see TBC. In the meantime, Blossomfall has a litter of four, Ivypool has her three kits, and Lionblaze decides to saturate the clan even further with his genes by having three more kits, giving ten additional cats. Adding in Twigbranch and Finleap and removing Dovewing, that leaves us with 44 cats by the end of the arc.

Next up to the chopping block bat is Shadowclan, starting the arc out with 31 cats, 17 of which will not make it to TBC, leaving only 14 cats who did. Grassheart’s litter of three, Snowbird’s third litter of three, Dovewing’s litter of three, Berryheart’s second litter of three, and Yarrowleaf’s litter of two, plus the three Guardian cats (and his girlfriend) Tigerheart brought back to Shadowclan with him helps boost that number back up to 32.

The apprentices (and unseen kits) from Thunderclan, Windclan, and Riverclan have become warriors and are placed neatly at the bottom of the warriors list. Take note because this is probably the last time this will happen so neatly.

Oddly enough, Shadowclan’s apprentices lack descriptions. So do Riverclan’s kits. Weird.

Thunder and Shadow

Larkwing is listed as the apprentice of Furzepelt, when she was a warrior last book and during the timeskip.

Also I’m going to be ignoring the mess that will be Shadowclan and Skyclan for the next few books because it’s just tangled and gross and I don’t wanna bother.

Shattered Sky

Despite being made a warrior before Lilyheart’s litter, Sparkpelt is listed below Larkfur, Leafshade, and Honeyfur. Speaking of Lilyheart, she’s been relocated to Blossomfall’s old spot, between Briarlight and Bumblestripe, instead of her original position between Molewhisker and Snowbush.

After moving out of the nursery, Heathertail is placed at the bottom of the warriors list.

Shadepelt and Foxnose are now warriors, but instead of being put at the bottom of the list, they’re just minorly edited with their warrior names. Likewise, Icewing is put at the bottom of the list after returning to her warrior duties.

Darkest Night

Breezepelt is oddly placed at the top of the allegiances.

After her kittens become apprentices, Lakeheart just disappears. Forever. Where has she gone off to? What do her still surviving children, Harelight and Gorseclaw think about it?

River of Fire

Fernstripe of Windclan becomes a warrior and, probably due to being the deputy’s apprentice, she’s put at the bottom of the list.

The Raging Storm

A lot of queens have their kittens apprenticed: Blossomfall, Cinderheart, Snowbird, and Tinycloud. All four of them are placed right at the bottom of their respective warrior lists.

The Broken Code

Lost Stars

Ah yes, the arc that could’ve wiped out a good chunk of the established cast, yet only took care of- *checks notes of all five Clans*

Thunderclan lost five cats and two others were put on a bus, plus three litters (yes, three, I’ll get to that later) brought the number back up by seven, so we’re back to square one with the number of Thunderclan cats: 48 at the beginning and end of the arc. Great.

So Shadowclan has 32 cats starting out, four of them die and there are no births in this arc, leaving us with 28 cats.

Skyclan starts off the arc with 33 cats, but I just noticed Cloudmist and Cherrytail are suspiciously absent from the list, so that’s actually 35 cats. Only Sandynose died that entire time and we get Beekit and Beetlekit in addition, leaving us with 36 cats total.

Windclan starts off with 25 cats, and loses one of them. Great job, Windclan.

Last up to bat, Riverclan starts off with 27 cats, gains three more, and loses three of them, sustaining equilibrium at 27 cats.

Regarding the placements of these cats, everything seems way more haphazard. Take Blossomfall’s kits: Stemleaf is placed below Rosepetal, matching the pattern of being lazy with new warriors, while Eaglewing maintains her position above Dewnose, and Shellfur and Plumstone, mentored by cats farther up the list, are placed right beside each other at the bottom. On a similar note, Cinderheart, Blossomfall, and Ivypool have been rocketed up to somewhere in the middle of the list, while Spotfur, Snaptooth, and Flywhisker are kept neat and tidy at the bottom of the list with Leafshade being dragged down there when she was a little further up the list. It’s really strange, very cluttered, and it’s like the new team is scrambling up a Rubix cube to keep us on our toes.

At least Shadowclan and Skyclan are faring better as their new apprentice generations are all grouped together at the bottom of the list, but keep an eye on Flaxpaw and Hoppaw and Kitepaw and Turtlepaw. Windclan had no apprentice generation to speak of and while Riverclan had its young cats put at the bottom, you still got Breezeheart and Nightsky mixed in with Lakeheart’s litter.

The Silent Thaw

Sorrelstripe and Sparkpelt moved out of the nursery and they were thrown in a random spot! Also note the placement of Ivypool’s litter; they’re all situated right beneath their mentors.

Ah yep. Flaxfoot, Hopwhisker, Kitescratch, and Turtlecrawl all were just edited to have their warrior names and remained under their mentors instead of put at the bottom of the list.

Violetshine and Bellaleaf moved out of the nursery, and they were thrown somewhere. Same goes for Heathertail, but Featherpelt and Havenpelt got stuck at the bottom of the list again.

Again with Riverclan kits being vague and often unhelpful; Curlfeather’s kits just list their genders and not their names, which is odd. Lakeheart’s kits just listed their names and Havenpelt’s kits had proper descriptions. This is a first.

Veil of Shadows

These lists are practically identical save for one or two dead cats and also Havenpelt moved up towards the top of the Riverclan warriors list for some reason. But really. In five highly overpopulated Clans in an arc stressed with tension, why are there no bodies dropping.

Darkness Within

Squirrelflight and Lionblaze are the acting leader and deputy of the Clan so far, and Rootspring is just edited to stay below Dewspring while Needleclaw got zipped up next to his spot. Also the editors remembered Cherrytail and Cloudmist exist, finally. Featherpelt also jumps up the list a fair bit for some reason.

The Place of No Stars

Lemme guess, just a birth? Okay, Appleshine and Woodsong became warriors and they’re put underneath their mentors, look at that. Where are the dropping bodies?

A Light in the Mist

So upon being removed from acting deputy, Lionblaze is placed at the bottom of the warriors list. And even though this is the next book, Wrenflight, Songleap, and Splashtail are once again just edited beneath their mentors to have a warrior entry and not moved to the bottom of the list.

So about Spotfur’s kits, she gives birth at the end of Daisy’s Kin which is co-current with and released alongside The Place of No Stars, so why they weren’t listed in A Light in the Mist?

In Conclusion

The allegiances barely stook to any rules and that’s what made it this giant cesspool of gobbledygook to begin with.

Over the course of the series existing, queens were a more and more temporary rank and the extremely old Daisy is the only matriarch around anymore, newly-named warriors are either placed at the bottom of the list or right below their mentor, the kits are usually described, every apprentice-aged cat and older is given a description regardless of Clan status, and the apprentice section has been done away with. While I wouldn’t call TPB’s cat sorting perfect when it comes to sorting by age, by the time Po3 and OotS rolled around, Thunderclan cats were more or less arranged in the order of birth. The other Clans unfortunately had to play more fast and loose.

If I were the madlass assigned to fixing these lists, I’d do what any sensible creature with more than three functioning braincells would do: list the cats by age and put them back where you got em from if they left the warriors list for a while. This also counts for elders and queens; I’d sort the queens by age and put the oldest queen on top, even if there was a younger queen who has older kits. For cats who jump Clans, just stick em with the cats who are around the same age as them (kind of hard to do that when Ferretclaw’s nowhere to be found and your Clan’s full of younger people).

So anyway, I’ve been slaving away at this for the past nine hours with barely any breaks and what I thought would’ve taken me only part of a morning and afternoon took me most of my day, so I’m gonna do more imparative things on my agenda, finally relieved I got this off my chest.

Last note, I encourage you to compare the allegiances of Bramblestar’s Storm and Crowfeather’s Trial, as they highlight the differences between the highly optimal Po3/OotS philosophy of sorting and the extremely lazy AVOS and onward philosophy.

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isure-hopeso · 1 year

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12.31.2022

Despite an overflow of life changes and a heavy workload, I somehow managed to read 35 books in ‘22. Posting here because Tumblr will never die.

The Lost Summer of Louisa May Alcott 6/10 really cool insights to her life Redwall 8.5/10 nostalgia lane! The Nickel Boys 9.5/10 insert big bad emotions here, and for good reason Mirror Mirror 5.5/10 not as good a read as I remembered The Way of Shadows 8/10 I’d have immediately begun the next book if the story weren’t so f’d up The Gift of Self Love 6.5/10 a workbook of sorts, pretty cool but not very deep Paul, the Pastoral Epistles, and the Early Church 8.5/10 deconstructing has been really cool lol A Caribbean Mystery 8.5/10 Miss Marple is who I wanna be when I’m old Pawn of Prophecy 9.5/10 the first novel of my favorite series in a long time, The Belgariad Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea 3.5/10 Jules Verne just really liked big manly men a lot A Beautifully Foolish Endeavor 6.5/10 a rad story, but I wasn’t wildly hooked Fortune’s Rocks 7/10 I don’t vibe with the teen girl meets old guy story, not okay, but the writing was sooo well done Queen of Sorcery 8.5/10 second in The Belgariad, I bought it immediately Journey to the Center of the Earth (in Croatian) 7.5/10 I read this to keep practicing Croatian, but the story was also pretty nice The Adventures of Tom Sawyer (in Croatian) 9/10 also for practice, but I genuinely love the Tom Sawyer short stories The Murder of Roger Ackroyd 10/10 truly one of Christie’s greatest works, part of her Masterpieces set And Then There Were None 9.5/10 a reread for me in Christie’s Masterpieces, but one of her novels that got me hooked young! “Witness for the Prosecution” -- a short story in Christie’s Masterpieces set, didn’t include in my book count, but super well set up mystery Death on the Nile 8/10 amazing story, but much slower than Christie’s other Masterpieces Where the Crawdads Sing 6.5/10 a very romantically written book, which I bet is why it got so popular, but the overall story was simple Magician’s Gambit 9/10 Belgariad 3, I was addicted to this series Phaedo, Cratylus, and Theaetetus from Plato’s Works -- didn’t include them as books, but still unsurprisingly cool to read Ghost Hunters Adventure Club and the Express Train to Nowhere 9.5/10 this novel was hilarious and also exceedingly well written, I was amazed Castle of Wizardry 8.5/10 Belgariad 4, story split up a bit here, but I could see why for the long run lol Enchanters’ End Game 9.5/10 Belgariad’s 5th and final, suuccchhh a good way to end a series, so fresh and so clean clean Confessions of an Ugly Stepsister 7.5/10 ever read a book when you were young, then reread it older and realize how much you didn’t understand before? that was this one lol The Dragon Republic 8/10 big ouchie in my feelings place, but I powered through for the bonkers storyline The Two Towers 9.5/10 I reread at least one LOTR book per year, it’s kinda sad how much I live in these stories Eating the Cheshire Cat 5.75/10 nothing to do with cheshire cats, very confusing, pretty cool story, I don’t know how I feel about it altogether lol The Mystery of the Blue Train 5.5/10 honestly probably my least favorite Poirot story, but I still couldn’t guess whodunnit till the end “Kitchen Princess” 1st Omnibus 9.5/10 used to read these all the time in highschool, and I practically started crying when I began rereading it lol The Haunting of Hill House 7.5/10 for little baby pansies like me, this book was actually readable, which was very important to my friends at Halloweentime The Book Charmer 4/10 Hallmark movie in a novel, but I needed emotional healing and it served its purpose lol The Handmaid’s Tale 8/10 big kudos to Atwood for surviving in her mind while she wrote this A Cup of Silver Linings 3/10 sequal to the Hallmark book, I’m aware of the implications of this, but I needed to feel happy feelings at the time lol Valiant 7.5/10 wanted to jump into some old well-loved YA sad girl vibes for the catharsis, but forgot the story is actually pretty cool lol The Secret Adversary 7/10 Christie always hits the spot at Christmas time and was a super good way to end the year Books are my safe space, and it shows. I also got really lucky this year with a lot of bangers and very few flops. But honestly, I’ve really loved reading such a wide variety of books this past year, and I hope I can keep broadening my reading horizons in 2023. If you read this, bless you and may you never get a papercut again.

#books #bookworm #booksbooksbooks #booklr

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rataltouille · 4 years

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BONFIRE, BONFIRE!: A COLLECTION OF FLASH FICTION + POETRY

so i’ve decided to compile all twenty [these will be split into two so that the post isn’t super long] of the writing pieces i’ve done for my random celebration into one post so that it’s easier to read / access share!! you can also find it here, all put into one work, on wattpad, because i feel nostalgic about that website and decided to just post it!!

NOTE: i know that this shouldn't need to be said, but these 20 pieces belong to me so please don’t copy/repurpose it for your writing!! i plan on using these somewhere in my own writing and either way they’re stuff i’ve written so don’t use them!!

1. cooking + destructive + purple from @andiwriteunderthemoon [also i kind of cheated with this prompt and asked my sis @dreamscanbenightmarestoo for ideas and so the base idea’s from her!!]

I didn’t mean to set my house on fire, alright?

Let me set the scene: I’m sitting in my room, watching the infomercials that blur together, and suddenly there’s a bright purple flash on the glitching screen: /grapes/. They’re shiny, plump, and oh? A recipe for fine wine? Don’t mind if I do. So I pop into my kitchen and cut the grapes, dice them up, finally using the knife after years of not cooking— /mother, are you proud of me now?/— and stick the soft, luminescent fluid into a glass bottle. Following each step of the recipe.

The recipe didn’t mention an explosion.

Destruction rained around my house like a meteor shower. The bubbles from the fluid, frisking up at contact with metal, swam across my shoes and into the living room. It touched the TV, which still flashed the recipe, which I was still cursing at. And then, you know, it burnt up. The couch scorched first, I think. So that was fun. I later realised that I’d used my reserve of petroleum, which I’d put in my kitchen cabinet, instead of vinegar. I think I’ve got to move back in with my mother again.

2. running + quiet + sky blue from @kryskakikomi [i have no idea what this is i drafted this in a fever dream state]

Summer crawled up his skin like a worm. He was seated at his dining table, crosswording his way through the sticky morning, when it struck him that the humidity was new. He’d been caught in summer before, of course, but this year was different. His parents had whisked away to their hometown, and he still didn’t understand why he wasn’t allowed to go. He loved their home— he could have been running on beach sand and waves could have cruised over his feet, and his face would reflect sky blue under palm trees. Instead he sat doodling and scratching at cement walls in a quiet that nagged at his ears, grappling his flesh like a fishing hook, reeling him in. Boredom, him sister told him, before she also left for someone’s home. What would you know? he whispered once the door latched from the outside. Maybe /she’d/ like to sit on the same wooden chair, all the pink paint worn out, and scratch out squares of empty text until the pen poked through the other hand. He scoffed. At least he knew the number of scars on the wood; he could hold that over her when his parents returned.

3. hallucinate + hazy + violet from @chloeswords [i wanted to write something dreamy and ethereal but everytime i look at your url i’m reminded of church mud and indirectly my religious trauma so here we are 🤡]

We hold the book in our arms and chant for God. We don’t know what he looks like. They say that he’s sharp, never pixelating or blurring or showing through, like a hazy image would. No, children, our family says, he will come clothed in gold and velvet— the colour a deep and rich crimson, or chartreuse. And of course, he weaves a violet into his hair. Because he is just that humble. Just that gentle. Loving.

We’ve almost understood now. Pray, clasp our palms together into a transient equinox, and pray. Maybe he will shine down on us. Maybe we will speak so loud and chant so long that our lips will chap. Maybe we’ll simply hallucinate him to salve our bones. Our family says, he will bless you. And so he will.

4. halcyon + pluviophile + beige from anon [i was yearning for cats i am a cat person i love cats]

I remember my life before I moved to London,

Those halcyon days that I spent scooping up cat litter and brushing warm fur,

Being a mother to beige and white and black little felines.

They keep better company than humans.

Now I’m a self-proclaimed businesswoman, artist, influencer, pluviophile,

Even when I’ve barely stepped foot outside during the rain,

[But it needs to be said that when it rains in London, it pours].

I think I’d like to open a cat cafe;

I’m rich enough to pull it off.

5. sing + vulnerable + olive green from @occiidens [this was actually super fun to write because it’s a break from the typically unhinged stories i gravitate towards]

You watch from the highest hill of your town, hand wrapped around the serrated wood of a red oak tree. The bark pokes into your flesh, drawing blood that shouldn’t have been taken from you. You scowl. Just another thing that lives to cause you pain.

Three storeys down is a young man, short and smiling and lovely. He has dark skin and darker hair, walking with the stride of a deer, and he’s smiling; the joy reflects onto your face, even though you can’t hear him. He wears a cotton shirt, the olive green stark against the fire-blue sky. You call out, sing his name, three times in a row.

When he finally looks up, squinting as you silhouette under the sun, the smile widens. A wave. You’re suddenly overcome with embarrassment. Your palm digs into the bark until the wound is freshly dug again, the skin supple and vulnerable. You want to wave, but your hands would look so awkward, and the blood wouldn't help. So you turn on your heel and run— why are you so awkward?— and the grass around you is brighter. This is now a tomorrow issue, you conclude. You’re still smiling.

6. dislocate + ostentatious + blood red from @oasis-of-you [this got really unhinged really fast. TW: body horror]

If you take a turn at Finn Avenue,

Rogue your way down a blood red river,

[It’s not actual blood, do not worry. The colour’s a pigment and it’s saturated enough to give you the texture, the touch, the taste of blood, but I repeat, it isn’t true blood. You might think that it’s ostentatious of us to make you cross a river like that, but you’ll understand why.]

And if can stick your fingers inside the fluid,

You’ll find a bone.

Don’t pull it out fully! Only observe.

[This is a real bone, most likely animal. We may be ominous, but we don’t hurt humans. Not yet.]

So what do you do now? You want passage into a better world.

You came here because you saw the brochure, the flyer,

Radiant Idyll, home for love, but you also saw the jutting anatomy that leads to the city. The pictures were rather clear.

Why do you look so surprised? We’ve put this on the brochure— don’t you ever read the fine print?— to avoid this exact situation. That you would cross a body, a skeleton, pooled over in a fluid that we don’t name, but it’s probably alive.

It’s watching you right now.

So what do you do now?

Hurry up, unhinge your arm, dislocate the elbow, drop it into the blood, forgive me, false blood, and pay for your passage.

Oh! Excellent; that’s record time. We do hope you enjoy your stay!

1. @noteaboy [i’ve interpreted your url as ”note, a boy”]

There’s an orange tree. It’s spring, and there’s an orange tree, and it brims with fruit and citrus perfume. Point your lens flare downwards, and note, a boy. A young man, perhaps, because he combs his hair, uptight and firm, and he wears a tie. A long suit. He doesn’t look up, because his hand holds a book. /He/ holds the book, not the hands— tenderness doesn’t translate through anatomy, I’ve taught you this before. He’s waiting for someone. There’s only the rustle of leaves. He drops the book onto the lap of the tree, crushing the apple that had fallen down. Orange, not apple. Take note better. You only have one chance to get this right.

2. @eatingjupiter [your url is so beautiful omg]

The goddess had said this before she died: you need to watch over him. He needs your sentry to survive. The goddess’ words weren’t heeded. Little baby Jupiter tottered on lava as him parents small-talked with their kingdom. Well, it must have been small talk, because nothing seemed to happen afterwards other than his mother’s face collapsing in agony, anger, annoyance. He knew not to touch them then. He’d fly off into the sun one day, but if his hands were but and charred, he wouldn’t survive even a third of the journey.

The prophecy was simple: the firstborn to the kingdom will metamorph into a celestial, purify themselves so that only stardust remains. Live in the sky forever. The astrologers were baffled; you don’t just become a star. They should have heeded the goddess.

Jupiter was sixteen when he expanded and collapsed all at once. He still lives, they say, and the astrologers /were/ right, in a way: people just don’t become stars. They become almost empty space. Nobody knows if his hands were burnt when they left earth’s orbit forever.

3. @laughtracksonata [your name gave me slight horror vibes idk why!!]

Hahaha. The Horror Movie (don’t ask me for a name, I’m not good with those), with its cymbal crashing and plastic sounds, it’s so loud and scary that it hurts, father. Please turn it off.

Father doesn't listen. I shiver on the couch. The screen flickers like radio static and reflects off our wide eyes. What kind of a home is this anyway? I don’t want to fucking listen to a laugh track or a horror VHS tape or watch the bass crescendo as the serial killer jumpscares the watcher. I don’t think that having hour pupils glued to the same blood-splattered movie, with the same recording looping in his eardrums will help him. He laughs along, sometimes. It’s scary. Father needs a new hobby.

PART TWO COMING SOON!!

anyway this got REALLY long so i’m posting the third prompt group, the one based on songs, as a second part in some time. i hope you enjoy this, and PLEASE do boost!! i spent a lot of time writing these pieces and am pretty proud of them :’)

general taglist: @lovingyou-is @guulabjamuns @andiwriteunderthemoon @coffeeandcalligraphy @melonmilk @silentlylostwriter @charles-joseph-writes @eklavvya @eowynandfaramir @bitterwitchwrites @laughtracksonata @whatwordsdidnttouch @indeliblewrites @thenataliawrites @summersguilt @illimani-gibberish @sarahkelsiwrites @writing-in-delirium @shaelinwrites @sienna-writes @chewingthescenery @jennawritesstories @chloeswords @aelenko @keira-is-writing @cherylinanika @infinitely-empty-pages @jmtwrites @august-iswriting @freedelusionbanana @beetleblue88 @mistercaleb @iwannawritepls @hanwatchingmovies @mortallynuttyqueen @idratherliveinnarnia @maisulli @thegreyboywrites @ahowlinwolf @ravens-and-rivers @oasis-of-you @yanittawrites @chazza-writes-sometimes @skyfirewrites @lovebenders @treybriggsthewriter @themidnxghtwriter @ash-karter @queen-devasena @a-procrastination-addict @gaymityblight @beyondthebracken @madmaxst26 @adielwrites @moonpixxel @hollow-knight-dnd @keep-looking-here @overlap @ashleygarciawrites @ryns-ramblings @wordsbynathan @novaemlynlewis @sophiewritingstuff @howdy-writes @occiidens @nsanelyawkward @viawrites-andacts

#writeblr #am writing #flash fiction #poetry #wtwcommunity #ofcolourtracking #crabappletracking #anyway part two probably in a couple days #i still have to start writing them 🤡✌️#bonfire bonfire

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mallowstep · 3 years

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Why is Halftail excluded? Just curious

in response to my opinion of series one elders names

okay so. basically. i'm sorry this is a quick answer, let me do that first and then i'll ramble:

losing half your tail isn't really a significant disability to a cat. it's not the same as losing your whole tail, or an eye, or half a human limb. don't get me wrong, it's definitely a disability, but it's closer to "losing an ear" than losing an eye.

furthermore, it's not very distinctive. having had a cat with half a tail, you really don't notice unless you're paying attention. it surprised literally everyone when they pet him and realized his tail stopped short.

okay, longer answer.

why do we rename cats? no, really.

personally, i think it's a mark of something a cat has overcome, in some sense. like, one-eye lost her eye. that's kind of badass? remember, warrior cats do not have vets. losing an eye could mean death, if it gets infected.

fuck, sweetpaw dies in bluestar's prophecy because she ate a bad mouse.

(but matthew, you're saying, cats survive shit all the time—

no. shut up. cats survive shit all the time now because warrior cats don't die anymore. mistystar is sixteen years old. nothing means anything any more.

sorry. that was aggressive.)

anyway, as i was saying, surviving an injury like that is a big deal, even if you immediately retire to the elders' den. imo. to be clear, here, i'm not doing my usual couching stuff, but i'm rambling exclusively about my opinions. this is not fact. please do not interpret it as such.

so like, at what point does an injury become worth naming after?

but wait! in that regard, losing half your tail would be a big deal, right? i mean, if sweetpaw dies from eating a bad mouse...

(i have a lot of feelings about sweetpaw, okay?)

anyway.

you're right, it would. but. cats also get injured all the time.

to me, losing half your tail is...a bit of a minor thing. so i don't think it really fits this.

the other category of name changes, and i only apply these to windclan and thunderclan, who are literal, is, "your name does not accurately describe you anymore."

but in order for that to fit, losing half your tail would need to be like, an overwhelmingly obvious feature.

which it isn't.

one-eye is also a rename i feel iffy about. her name was already white-eye, why rename it just because of an injury?

well, that's what category one renames are for: she survived an eye injury. that's lucky. your eyes connect to your brain. i don't know enough about biology, but i also know cats don't have antibiotics.

what about a name like tornear?

(and we are pretending tornear was a rename because tornkit is a stupid name, and the only reason he wasn't renamed is because erins decided the elder rename thing is bad, which is valid, but it causes conflicts.)

anyway, well, tearing an ear isn't major in the same way losing an eye is. it doesn't even take out half your hearing. some of it, definitely, but not 50%.

but it is a very distinctive feature. you may know one of my cats is missing an ear, and you notice it almost immediately.

(freyja on the left, jasper on the right.)

jasper again.

jasper on top, freyja on bottom.

anyway, this turned into me showing off my cats, so i'll cut myself off here.

hope this made sense.

#ask #anon #names #names discourse #mine #txt #essay #long #real cats #my cats

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gayregis · 4 years

Text

list of canon sapkowskian epic vampire powers and more specifics, for fic writers and just because i needed to write all of these out for my own enjoyment

there’s 2.5 sources for this. of course, vereena and regis are the first two. then, geralt counts as half of a source because he’s not certain of a lot of things but he is technically an expert on the subject.

passive features/powers:

advanced senses of smell, enough to detect certain chemicals in sweat or infection in blood.

advanced sense of hearing, enough to overhear a conversation from far away.

advanced strength, enough to lift a man up by the throat or throw someone out the window.

fangs. no canon description of how many or what they look like. though they’re used in combat as a sort of finishing move.

eyes that reflect light, also usually dark black eyes which are described as looking like anthracite or onyx.

ability to see in the dark even better than ability to see in daylight.

affinity with birds.

passive healing, rate of which varies. arrow wound takes a few moments to heal from, ��a blow [from a silver sword] which should have sundered the beast in two” turns out to be a barely visible red sliver of a wound, decapitation takes around 50 years to heal from.

invulnerability to fire.

active abilities, mostly during combat but can be utilized during other times:

giant bat form and the ability to fly in this form. it’s turning into a man-sized black bat. restricted to only being able to be performed during the full moon though, and not before midnight.

shockingly loud scream. strong enough to shatter glass and to paralyze, throw someone back, and causing circles to spin in the eyes and also hallucinations.

an “incredible, lightning-fast, tiger-like leap/bound,” and agile, cat-like movements in general.

invisibility / incorporeal state / whatever “simply vanishing” is supposed to insinuate. may be related to flight. it’s just disappearing.

mind games:

telepathic speech, the preferred manner of communication is projecting one’s own speech into another’s mind.

ability of suggestion, inaccurately called “hypnosis” due to convienience, instead called “[the ability to] bewitch with [a] gaze,” and “a vampire spell” by geralt. it’s not hypnosis as a hypnotist performs, but it controls the will of someone, having them perform actions (in a stiff, unnatural, automaton-like fashion, with blank eyes) or reveal information.

these suggestions may take the form of nightmares or terrors, or invoke trances in those prone to prophecy.

the most advanced version of this is enslaving the entire mind of someone. a vampire as powerful as vereena wasn’t able to perform this, so it is likely an advanced manuever.

putting others to sleep. a likely derivative or related version of the ability of suggestion is putting others to sleep with a gaze.

things that cdpr made up made creative decisions to implement into blood & wine:

smoke / mist form. the disappearing is simply disappearing.

hag-like face.

wolverine claws, 3 ft long... or any claws at all. claws are not mentioned in the books.

whatever dettlaff’s form is supposed to be. it’s not a bat.

buddy system of regeneration (using another vampire’s blood to heal).

extreme healing (cases in which the entire body has been completely and utterly obliterated).

direct communication with birds. this isn’t disproven in canon, but there’s nothing confirming it, either.

inabilities/weaknesses:

witcher medallion will usually be able to detect a vampire by vibrating in its presence. some of the more powerful vampires may avoid this.

they do not show up in mirrors.

dogs and horses can sense their presence and will alert humans by their nervousness, irritation and reluctance to be near the vampire. they may be inhibited by use of special herbal scents or perfumes.

they typically cannot imitate humans perfectly and do not tend to speak aloud, using telepathy instead. there is “a considerable number” of vampires who do not drink blood, but to pose convincingly as a human and integrating oneself completely in human society is rare.

it IS possible to kill a vampire, and although it is never elaborated upon how to do so, vilgefortz may have some notes on this.

things you might think vampires can’t do due to myth, but they can definitely do/these things pose no obstacle to them:

garlic or any sort of plant, weed, or herb such as buckthorn.

holy symbols (remember that christianity does not exist on the continent anyways, so no one would ever aim a cross at a vampire. other talismans may be used as weapons against vampires, but they would certainly prove ineffective).

entering a place uninvited.

crossing over running water either by boat, swimming, flight, etc.

sunlight and light in general (in the case of higher vampires. although no light will turn a vampire to ash).

things regis can do because he is a special boy, but a vampire usually shouldn’t be able to do:

successfully and perfectly imitate a human. assumedly this refers to ability to speak aloud, mannerisms, and social interaction.

evade detection by a witcher’s medallion, so long as he is not using any of his active powers.

evade detection by dogs and horses, which can sense him but are confused by the scent of the herbs he carries.

differences between higher (bruxa, alpor, mula, nosferat, katakan) and lesser (ekimma, fleder) vampires:

higher vampires are rational creatures. they are not violent with their victims, who “quite often survive.” in opposition to this, lesser vampires mutilate their victims and are considered to not have sentience on the level of higher vampires. higher vampires typically do not group themselves with lesser vampires.

lesser vampires live in darkness and dislike the light. (sources, since this is a little more hidden than the other facts: in a grain of truth, geralt mentions that “a normal vampire couldn’t come out in the sun” when he assumes that vereena is either a mula or an alpor. he is likely referring to lesser vampires with this comment. in baptism of fire, regis remarks that "we, higher vampires, have also moved some way from our primeval crypts.” he distinguishes higher vampires from lesser vampires in this statement, but also ridicules the idea of a vampire burning to ash in the sun. it is likely that lesser vampires “can’t” come out in the sun just because they are accustomed to the dark and disoriented by the light, not that it will cause them to spontaneously combust.)

it seems that mulas and alpors are considered by witchers to be “okay to handle, with preparation,” but bruxas are more dangerous to combat.

bonus round: traits

black or dark hair. regis is greying :)

black eyes, usually described as being like gemstones such as anthracite or onyx.

only vereena was ever described as pale. it’s not inherent to vampires to be pale-skinned. maybe regis is just better at imitating humans though

#vamp squad #OK sorry this post got deleted like 10 min before i forgot a lot of things and wanted to make sure the post was good #thoughts #the witcher #vereena #regis #my headcanon is that higher vampire is to lesser vampire as human is to apes and hominids

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everybody-loves-purdy · 3 years

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i may have asked b4 i dont remember but do u have any aus for warrior cats? [i have one that was made out of sympathy and guilt and it surrounds mintkit, one of the kids killed in the 1st series by brokenstar. i fleshed him out SO much it's kind of ridiculous but i love him]

That sounds like a really nice but tragic AU - I love it

I’ve got a few, here’s a few of my favourites that I remember

- Snowbramble AU (Snowkit survives as Bramblekit dies to save him) Edit: here’s the full AU description:

- A po3/oots au where Hollyleaf does have powers but this isn’t realised until partway through oots - Lionblaze is just a pretty strong and skilled guy. Hollyleaf has the power to make those she touches tell the truth - a power she turned on herself during that gathering. Jayfeather would have a crisis for half the arc thinking that the prophecy can’t be completed since Hollyleaf is presumed dead

- There’s an AU in currently working on where One Eye from dotc was a lot more threatening in that arc and OOTS introduces him as the leader of the dark forest (so building him up for Dotc later) as he was the first resident and his power is what allows the cats to eventually break through to the living world - but Tigerstar betrays him and kills his spirit and takes the power for himself. Also the Three have a much more active role in fighting him all together- but before Jayfeather can go into his mind to block this power from spreading to the other Dark Forest cats so they will be sent back to the dark forest, Tigerstar comes and fucks it up by killing him like I mentioned- leading to the final battle with Firestar

#if I remember more I will add on but those are my top three I think #transpaw #au

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fan-clan-fun · 4 years

Text

I submitted something about the structure of one of my fanclans a little while ago and thought it’d be fun to submit the rest of them! Just more brief descriptions than super detailed. I’d love it if you took a look!

Sorry this took so long to respond to, the size was a bit intimidating, but lets do this!

I’m also quickly noting that there’s a lot of things here that cats can’t do. Most notably, crafting, which here includes weaving, tying, etc. I know it’s unrealistic, I just can’t be bothered to care. And I know the map is a little empty right now, I’m workin’ on it.

You do you, if you want realism thats okay, if you dont, thats okay too! Just make sure in universe you are consistent, because thats where things can get awkward.

To make things a little more understandable, let’s say these cats have more human-like paws. Think how paws are used in MAPs - the cats can point, make expressions with them, etc. They’re still paws, but can be used in more productive ways.

That doesnt seem like too much of a stretch, and that would make several things more easily possible.

The three clans - ForestClan, SeaClan, and CliffClan - are known (to me, at least), as ‘The Coastal Clans.’ The geography and aesthetic is supposed to match that of a Northwestern coast - think Northern California and Oregon. It’s cold, foggy, and wet most of the time. ForestClan inhabits a temperate redwood rainforest, SeaClan prowls the beaches and the ocean, and CliffClan claims the cliffs that overlook the beaches and ocean (as well as the meadows above the cliffs).

Seems like a good premise, and you can use some irl locations for inspiration and to help flesh it out.

SeaClan, as said, claims the beaches and the sea as their territory. They are powerful swimmers, with thick, water-resistant fur to keep them warm when in the water. They have big, webbed paws that help propel them underwater. Unlike the canon water clan, RiverClan, who do quite a bit of their fishing at the surface of the water, SeaClan dive for their food. They do, of course, eat lots of fish, but a good portion of their food is also plucked from the sea floor - including clams, sea urchins, and oysters. Plenty of their food is found on the shore, too, though - they often dig for clams and crabs, and pry mussels off rocks.

This is actually really cool cause it makes use of their extra dexterity and ability.

SeaClan, like ForestClan, does not have a conventional leading system, nor do the cats have a StarClan. Instead of one leader, SeaClan has two - the Tidecaller and the Moonsinger (these just being titles, leaders will still keep their normal names). The Moonsinger is the more conventional of the two leaders. The Moonsinger is in charge of all the usual stuff: naming ceremonies, assigning mentors, leading the clan through hardship. The Tidecaller, however, is the spiritual leader. They are the one in charge of spiritual ceremonies - ascension to leadership, naming ceremonies for kits, etc. - as well as interpreting the will and signs of the sea. It is not common for the Moonsinger to receive visions or prophecies. Another notable difference is the leadership ceremony - when one becomes one of the leaders of SeaClan, they are ritually drowned.. And if they survive the ordeal (all leaders in recent history have survived), it’s a sign they have been approved of by the sea and gifted their nine lives (both gain nine lives). There is still a medicine cat, it’s just that the spiritual aspect is removed from the role.

So far Seaclan is distinct from most water-based clans and I appreciate its culture. Part of me wonders what originally led for the leadership to be split up, but the imagery makes sense.

SeaClan refers to ‘The Sea’ as their deity. As it is the basis of their entire lives, from birth to death, it is worshiped and respected greatly. Part of the respect, undoubtedly, comes from fear - though most, if not all SeaClan cats love the ocean, it’d be hard to deny how scary it can be. How vast, deep, and dark it is. It could take your life away in a heartbeat, drown you or drag you out to sea with no mercy (a quick note here: these cats also have some knowledge of a crude version of CPR - and yes, it is a lesson all apprentices must learn). They believe it is important to respect the waves - as it should then respect you back. If Sharkbait was dragged out by the riptide, he was not giving the sea the respect it deserved - perhaps he turned his back to the waves for a little too long. The other side of their religion, or their other deity, would be the Moon, as the moon pushes and pulls the tides. It’s not worshipped nearly as much as The Sea, but SeaClan cats still recognize its importance. Hence, we have the 'Moon'singer and the 'Tide'caller. SeaClan cats do not know of the afterlife, but dead cats are ‘buried’ at sea. If a SeaClan cat is not buried at sea, they believe they will then never walk in the afterlife - instead, they will be cursed to wander the land as a ghost and will never be allowed to return to the ocean. However, this has only proven to be a problem for evil cats (who don’t deserve the respect) or SeaClan cats that join other clans.

Okay right two deities, two leaders, makes sense. So far Seaclan seems to have a cohesive religion, nice.

As for trading, although their skill or style is not quite as refined as the other clans, SeaClan’s crafts are highly sought after for the materials used. Pearls, shells, sea glass, starfish, driftwood - most of their materials used are considered quite beautiful. Don’t tell the SeaClan cats, but most of their things end up getting taken apart to be repurposed for other jewelry, clothing, or other adornments.

I suppose the trade off of precious materials/lower refinement makes sense, although part of me worries that it could be used as a way to look down on this clan as less-civilized which could be a bit uncomfy.

(On the map)

Mussel Rock - a rather large rock that is covered in mussels. A great place for food.

Tide Rocks - a large clump of rocks that are often used for sunbathing or recreational swimming. They’re also a great place to dive for hunting. They’re called the Tide Rocks because they’re sometimes impossible to get to or stand on because of a high tide, or can just be walked right on to during a low tide.

Shell Shore - a corner of the beach that is absolutely covered with shells. Not only shells, but driftwood, sea glass, pretty rocks, starfish. A common place to get crafting materials. Apprentices often spend hours poring over the choices, trying to figure out the best one to give to their crush.

The Falls - another sort of recreational spot. It’s good for teaching younger apprentices how to swim without taking them into the ocean, and a great source of fresh water.

SeaClan kits have the suffix -shell, apprentices have the suffix -shore. SeaClan leaders do not take a unique suffix.

I currently do not have any plans for the leaders, deputies, or medicine cat.

And, for fun, a song or two for SeaClan’s aesthetic/vibe: Ghost on the Shore by Lord Huron, and Fire by Noah Gunderson.

Looks good so far!

Next up is CliffClan!

CliffClan inhabit the golden grassy meadows above the cliffs, as well as the cliffs themselves. Compared to the other clans, they are seen as rather laid-back and carefree. Hippies, basically. Typically, they’re lighter in color - lilac, yellow, golden, pale brown, pale grey - and are leaner. Hunting takes place both on the cliffs and in the meadows for CliffClan cats. On the cliffs, birds and birds’ eggs make great meals, and in the meadows, rabbits, mice, ground birds, and other creatures are quite common. Even the occasional squirrel, though they’re typically caught dangerously close to ForestClan’s borders. CliffClan territory gets much more sunlight than other territories and is typically a fair bit warmer. The camp is underneath a great, ancient willow tree - the hanging leaves create a natural partition and protect the cats underneath from rain, wind, hail and whatever else the world might throw at them. The borders (where the leaves hang) have been reinforced with bramble to create a more secure and clear camp. There are two partings/entrances in the camp, one to the territory, and another to an outdoor camp. The outdoor part of camp isn’t too reliable during storms, but for cats who prefer sleeping under the stars or want to nap in the sun, it’s perfect. It also smells rather nice, as the medicine cat keeps an herb garden in a portion of the outdoor camp.

Cliffclan territory and camp sounds lovely! Although willows do tend to grow closer to water or wetter land and since it looks like Cliffclan territory doesnt have a lot of trees, it is a bit odd for this one massive willow to exist on its own, particularly away from water. Maybe move it near to a little pond or lake? Or set it in a small group of willows in some wetlands? But thats up to you, and you did mention the map wasn’t complete so I may not have the full picture.

Rather than worshipping a deity, to CliffClan, nature is divine. All life is interconnected. Each piece of nature is itself, it’s own being, and they have no need to apply fancy names or powers to them. The sun brings warmth and light, the wind carries the scent of prey and salt, the rain brings water and cool refreshment after the hot months. Respect and love all parts of nature. “Hear the voice that sings to everything that always has and always will.”

Definitely sounds a little hippy lol. But it fits them well I think.

CliffClan’s main crafts include weaving, feathers, and ‘tools.’ Dry grass and reeds are woven together to create bracelets/anklets, chokers, and blankets. Feathers are often tucked into those as well. They also weave small baskets that can be used by the medicine cat to hold herbs, or woven grass pouches that can be worn over the body to collect things. One example is the pouches being used to hold eggs as CliffClan cats collect them from birds’ nests. CliffClan has the best technique for weaving by far, making their woven items highly sought after.

I like that they have the ability to collect and organize, it could be cool if different clan members had their own little collections or weaving patterns. They seem to be more independent and chill to have the time to do more things for pleasure.

(On the map)

The Ponds - a nice spot for cats to relax. It’s a good hunting spot and wonderful swimming spot. Sometimes there’ll even be a fish to catch!

Out of the three clans, CliffClan’s appointment system is the most similar to the canon clans’. Kits are still -kit, apprentices are still -paw. There is still a deputy and medicine cat. However, leaders do not take a special suffix.

CliffClan’s current leader is Brightsun, a seemingly soft-spoken tom with a missing hind leg. His aura is very friendly and warm - one can tell he was chosen to be leader because of his undying kindness and love for his clanmates, not because of his battle skills. He has a himbo husband mate, Hawkheart, and four adopted kits: Thunderpaw, Stormpaw, Rainpaw, and Windpaw.

CliffClan’s deputy has not yet been decided.

CliffClan’s medicine cat is Ripplestream, a former SeaClan warrior. He’s a bit skittish, and just a tad shy. But he truly does love his craft, and, so far, hasn’t looked back on his decision to leave SeaClan. Brightsun and Ripplestream are particularly close, since Brightsun was his mentor (he used to be the medicine cat - you may think, medicine cat to leader? that’s kinda cringe bro. i’m here to strangle cringe culture with my bare hands, and, Brightsun’s whole backstory will be submitted at a later date).

Its not that cringe, its just curious. Is that a normal thing? How do Cliffclan choose their leaders?

CliffClan’s head monarch is Primroseclaw, former deputy. She retired after she found a mate - her desire was always to serve her clan, and there were other ways to do so than becoming leader. She’s very caring with kits, but strict with adult cats, as they should know better. Primroseclaw is Brightsun’s maternal aunt.

I don’t necessarily see this as an issue as long as there isnt the implication that motherhood as a female is the ultimate way to serve, as that can be alienating for those who cant or dont want to birth or raise kits. But I mean all power to her if that was what she wanted.

CliffClan’s song/aesthetic: The Well by Woodland.

Lastly, there’s ForestClan! These cats inhabit the temperate redwood rainforest, and are generally seen as the most ‘mysterious,’ because they’re literally shrouded by the darkness of the trees. Typically, ForestClan cats are big and muscular, typically long-furred with darker pelts. Brown is especially common, as well as black and tortoiseshell. Ginger cats are seen as a bit prettier, and, depending on the times, white cats can be seen as beautiful or as a bad omen (it’s harder to hunt in the dark forest with a white pelt). They hunt all sorts of forest creatures, such as squirrels, mice, chipmunks, racoons, rabbits, etc. ForestClan cats are even known to take down animals as big as deer. This is only done on rare occasions - such as for a Gathering or in times of great hunger - but it’s still quite the impressive feat.

Deer are a pretty big thing to take on, Im curious how they do it. If they can take on deer, does this mean that other more natural to their size predators (foxes, badgers, coyotes, etc) aren’t as much of an issue?

I explained the deities and system in another post, but I’ll go over it briefly. ForestClan has three deities - The Sisters - who live on their territory in the form of three ancient, enormous redwood trees. Maieth is the largest tree, and the eldest sister. The leader who represents her duty to ForestClan is called Maieth’s Ward. The second eldest, the dead tree, is Kenoake, the leader who represents her is called Kenoake’s Ward. And the youngest sister, the smallest tree, Aerin - the leader who represents her, is, you guessed it, called Aerin’s Ward. The leaders’ deputies are more like apprentices who have to learn the ins and outs of their role, as there is much more to it than keeping everybody safe from harm.

Oh yes I remember that post. Its all coming together now.

ForestClan’s crafts are also highly sought after, as they make the most use from clay, bones, and paints. Crafts also pay a larger role in clan life to ForestClan than in the other clans. All kits are given necklaces when they’re born, each with a clay bead and a piece of bark from each of the Sisters strung on it. For each event in their life - their apprentice ceremony, their warrior ceremony, a particularly impressive catch, officially becoming mates with another cat, etc. they gain another bead and another piece of bark (from the tree that best pertains to the event; ceremonial from Kenoake, becoming a parent from Maieth, gaining apprentice from Aerin). Necklaces can be decorated with feathers, bones, etc. is the cat so wishes. For special ceremonies, ForestClan cats decorate themselves with ‘paint’ made from crushed berries or mud. They also have special bone wear - tied together with sinew, they drape bones over their pelts, such as rib bones. Leaders wear the skulls of killed deer during ceremonies.

I like the idea of the beads and bark based on what happens during their lives, its a really nice way to remember and give meaning.

ForestClan cats don’t wear as much ‘clothing’ as SeaClan or CliffClan, their specialty lies in more decorative crafts. One of which is their bone wind chimes, put together with sinew, sticks, and clay. This is especially popular with CliffClan, who enjoy placing them on the branches of the Great Willow. ForestClan’s camp is thoroughly decorated with them, and they’re also used as markers in the woods so cats don’t get lost. Their other especially popular craft is clay bowls. These are great for medicine cats to store their herbs, or to carry fresh water to camp. ForestClan cats also use them to store and crush berries to be used as paint.

Wait wait, clothing? I didnt realize the other clans wore a form of clothing. Why do they wear clothing? Is it to protect themselves, to better carry tools? As for the bone wind chimes, thats a lovely image, both haunting and beautiful to think that these cats have the knowledge to understand and enjoy music.

(On the map)

Mossy Hollow - a soft area for sparring and learning to climb. The mossy ground makes it so, if they fall, it’s not too rough. The springiness also makes it a great spot to practice leaps and fighting/hunting moves. The pond is a great source of fresh water, and the light shining through the trees makes it a good spot to sunbathe.

ForestClan kits are called -sprout, and apprentices are called -sap (sapling). Leaders do not take a special suffix.

This is super cute, I love these suffixes.

Maieth’s Ward has not been decided, nor has their deputy/apprentice.

Kenoake’s Ward has not been decided. Konoake’s Ward’s deputy/apprentice is Butterflywood, a very gentle cat. They are a bit accident prone, a bit.. Out there. They seem a little odd, but are quite kind, especially to curious kits and apprentices.

Aerin’s Ward has not been decided. Aerin’s Ward’s deputy/apprentice is Cinderspark, a very spunky, eccentric she-cat. She’s quite small for a ForestClan cat, but has very good reflexes and is fast. She’s very excitable as well - I don’t think anyone will be getting over her extremely rambunctious response to becoming deputy anytime soon. Even though she finds it a bit hard to focus sometimes, Aerin’s Ward cited she’d be a great fit for the role - she’s practically Aerin reincarnated!

Vibes: Cocoa Hooves by Glass Animals

As for other details:

Having mates outside of your clan is not forbidden, but it’s taboo - more like an unspoken rule. Both inter clan relationships and half clan kits are frowned upon.. But there’s no punishment for it, save for perhaps the disapproving reaction of one’s clanmates. Medicine cats can have mates and kits.

‘Star’ is a perfectly acceptable prefix. ‘Paw’ is used as more of an insult or to make fun - such as calling someone Heavypaws for being too loud while hunting, or saying someone’s a Wetpaw for falling into the river/pond/ocean. CliffClan cats don’t use this very much, for obvious reasons.

Interesting, but does open up the ability to make names with star as both prefix and suffix I suppose.

Cats may also leave their clans to join another, if they wish. Again, it’s not forbidden, but it’s.. Odd. Chances are the cat would be then hated by their own clan and an outcast in their new one (well, save for CliffClan, they’re probably the most welcoming of all). The other issue is that of a culture shock - unlike the canon clans, where, if it weren’t for the territory differences, would be just about all the same, the Coastal Clans are quite different. The different territory, leadership system, naming system, etc. might all be a bit tricky to get the hang of. There’s also the issue of the afterlife - where will they go? For example, for Ripplestream, he’s incredibly scared that since he won’t be buried at sea.. Will he be cursed to live as a ghost for the rest of his existence? Will he be taken in by whatever afterlife is offered to CliffClan? It’s all awfully frightening. It makes the issue of switching clans one that needs careful consideration.

I feel like hearing Ripplestream’s background would also help to understand some of the smaller details of this. But it does make sense that it would be odd. These clans dont seem to be aggressive or territorial so it does make sense that they might not react as badly as they could to cats moving clans. Most of the stress seems to fall on whoever is moving, as they would have to learn to live a whole new way of life.

There is no communal gathering spot - each moon, a different clan will host the gathering. CliffClan often hosts the gatherings at The Ponds, ForestClan at the Mossy Hollow, and SeaClan at The Falls. Gatherings are less formal events held by the clans to report of new apprentices, kits, findings, etc. They’re fun! Gatherings are often all day events, full of competitive games (sparring, hunting contests - medicine cats even have herbal trivia competitions), chatting, gossip, trading, and eating. Each clan brings prey and crafts from their own territory. These Gatherings are held bi-monthly, on the day of the full moon.

Each clan often comes dressed their best - SeaClan with their shells, ForestClan with their bones and paint smeared on their fur, CliffClan with their woven wear. Of course, by the end of the Gathering, most of this is put aside as the cats get more comfortable with each other.

So Im curious as to why the gatherings even happen. Was there some kind of war way back in the past which requried a peace settlement? Was it cultures seeking a way to trade and congregate together so a monthly gathering was a good way to do that? So far seems like you have thought through this quite well. Thanks for the submission!

#warrior cats #non-canon clans #clan culture #warriors OC #warriorsworldbuilding #submission

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puppypaw-wc · 3 years

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a change in interests - prologue

aka: a squirrelflight and leafpool roleswap au. squilf is a meddie and leafpool is a warrior.

Bluestar’s tail twitched as she waited for the others to arrive. They had a prophecy to discuss, after all. Yellowfang and Spottedleaf, ThunderClan’s former medicine cats, sat alongside her. While the leader had received the dream, she thought they’d do a better job at interpreting what the prophecy meant.

From the bushes came a dark brown tom, a paler brown tom by his side. She smiled a little, nodding and heading over to the two RiverClan cats, touching noses with the darker one. “Hello, Oakheart. You too, Crookedstar. How are you two doing today?”

“Alright,” Crookedstar shrugged, “though Oakheart’s a little concerned about the dream he received.”

“From what Bluestar told us, everyone is, I’m sure,” Yellowfang meowed. Spottedleaf nodded. With a bit of a shudder, the leader nodded. In her dream, she’d seen ThunderClan’s forests get run over by Twoleg monsters. Whether they simply trotted over or wrecked them with various extra appendages, it was terrible to see. But then, a strange ghost appeared before her. One who almost looked like a badger. It spoke slowly and in an odd voice, almost as if several voices were fighting to speak.

“Darkness, air, water, and sky will come together, and shake the forest to its roots.”

The spirit gave her instructions to send the most capable journeying cats from her Clan on a long, potentially dangerous journey to where water touched the sun, explaining that StarClan cats from the other Clans also received the message. She’d organized a meeting between those who received the message, so they could discuss.

“Who else is coming?” Bluestar asked Yellowfang.

“Nightstar and Hopfoot, I believe,” the medicine cat answered. Spottedleaf nodded.

“Well, do you have an idea of who to choose?” ThunderClan’s leader asked after giving her Clan’s medicine cats a nod.

“I was thinking Feathertail would be a good fit,” the tom replied, “she’s quite capable. I would choose Hawkfrost, but…” he trailed off. Bluestar simply nodded, understanding. “And Mistyfoot has her duties as deputy.”

“Makes sense,” Bluestar agreed, “I was thinking of choosing Squirrelpaw. She’s the medicine cat apprentice, after all, and you never know when a medicine cat will be needed. Her energy and determination will come in handy as well.”

“That makes sense to me,” came a voice as the remaining cats arrived, both black toms, though one had faint tabby stripes.

“Nightstar, Hopfoot,” the ThunderClan leader greeted, “we’re all here, then. Nightstar, Hopfoot, do you have any ideas of who to pick?”

The ShadowClan leader nodded. With a swipe of his paw, the image of a dilute calico appeared in the pool.

“Tawnypelt?” Hopfoot inquired. Nightstar nodded. “Why, may I ask?”

“Because she’s a capable warrior,” the ShadowClan tom responded simply, “she’s a great leader, too. Just because she’s Tigerstar’s kin doesn’t mean she’s bad, if that’s what you’re implying.”

“It’s not. I was just curious,” he shrugged, “though I will admit, my pick is a little biased. Though granted, WindClan isn't that big.”

With a swipe of the deputy’s paw, an off-black tom appeared in the pool where Tawnypelt was moments before. He had blue eyes, with some fur brushed over one.

“Crowpaw, an apprentice of WindClan, and my son,” Hopfoot explained, “I don’t believe anyone in my Clan’s more suited than him.”

“It may seem biased,” Bluestar agreed, her blunt attitude getting her a bit of a glare from her mate, “but if you believe he’s the best fit, then I’m sure you’re making the right choice.”

“Alright then. I’ll be visiting Squirrelpaw, I suppose,” Spottedleaf mewed, “I also believe Silverstream should visit Feathertail.”

“Sounds good,” Oakheart meowed, “I’ll tell Silverstream.”

* * *

“Remind me why we’re doing this?”

The molly sighed. “Hopefully it’ll make the living Clans’ victory less likely. Squirrelpaw makes a great asset to her Clan now, but still a lesser asset then she did before. And Leafpaw? I doubt she’ll survive a single fight as a medicine cat!”

“Did she not fight in the battle?” the tom asked. “She did quite well, if I recall.”

“Which you probably don’t, given how quickly you ran after our leader was dealt with,” came a growl from the bushes as a dark gray tabby tom emerged, “you’re a scaredy-mouse, hardly a good asset. I don’t know why you haven’t been left to those goody softpaws already, honestly.”

The molly stepped between the toms. “We’re working for the same goal, don’t forget that. In-fighting won’t help us achieve that. We need to work as one.”

“Look where that got us before,” the first tom hissed, yellow eyes shining with anger, “it got us stuck here with less members than ever before!”

With a sigh, the molly left the toms to their fight, chuckling to herself.

“I’ll get my ultimate revenge soon, for what the Clans did to me. Without one of their greatest warriors and medicine cats, ThunderClan will fall, once and for all!”

#puppy writes #med cat squirrelflight #squilf-leaf roleswap au

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aboveallarescuer · 4 years

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How Dany assesses the counsel she receives and makes her own choices - The way from the Red Waste to Vaes Tolorro

This will be a series of posts meant to show that Dany is open to receiving advice and criticism, but that she doesn’t act solely based on what other people tell her to do. On the opposite, GRRM makes great effort to write a Dany who most often merges different viewpoints and/or finds her own solutions to the problems she’s facing. I won’t include every single decision she ever made (e.g. her decisions at court are often made without counsel and her execution of the ritual to hatch the dragon eggs was already exhaustively and deftly analyzed by other people), but there will be plenty of instances in this series that will prove my point nonetheless. The metas will always have four items: in which chapters the events mentioned take place; what advice she receives and from whom; what were her actions; the verdict (whether she followed other people’s advice, ignored/rejected them or did both at the same time).

Chapter (s):

ACOK Daenerys I

The advice Dany receives:

Jorah and Rakharo advise Dany to avoid any route that any other khal took.

Jorah says that, while it's uncertain that they will survive by moving forward through the Red Waste, it's certain that they will die if they try to go back.

Jhiqui and Irri advise Dany to not enter the city because of the evil ghosts that inhabit it.

Dany's actions:

As I said in my meta about the relationship between Dany and the prophecies, Dany thinks it's best to follow the comet both because it's her only viable alternative and because there would only be despair left if she didn't believe that it meant something. As she lays out, all the other paths would compromise her small group:

She dare not turn north onto the vast ocean of grass they called the Dothraki sea. The first khalasar they met would swallow up her ragged band, slaying the warriors and slaving the rest. The lands of the Lamb Men south of the river were likewise closed to them. They were too few to defend themselves even against that unwarlike folk, and the Lhazareen had small reason to love them. (ACOK Daenerys I)

By the way, it's noteworthy that Dany was able to assess her situation and think of all these implications on her own. And I do believe she did it on her own, considering that the author explicitly recognizes when the ideas come from other people:

She might have struck downriver for the ports at Meereen and Yunkai and Astapor, but Rakharo warned her that Pono’s khalasar had ridden that way, driving thousands of captives before them to sell in the flesh marts that festered like open sores on the shores of Slaver’s Bay.

“Why should I fear Pono?” Dany objected. “He was Drogo’s ko, and always spoke me gently.”

“Ko Pono spoke you gently,” Ser Jorah Mormont said. “Khal Pono will kill you.[”] (ACOK Daenerys I)

And this leads us to an interesting exchange between Dany and Jorah. As I said before, there are lots of instances to infer that she says things she does not necessarily believe in to obtain his respect, and this is one of them. First, he says that she and her hundred warriors won't stand a chance against Pono's ten thousand warriors. In her mind, Dany is quite conscious of her vulnerabilities, for she knows she doesn't even have a hundred warriors:

No, Dany thought. I have four. The rest are women, old sick men and boys whose hair has never been braided.

But instead of revealing these insecurities, Dany declares:

“I have the dragons,” she pointed out.

Which then leads Jorah to reply that they won't help her that much, since they are still hatchlings; in fact, they may be liabilities at this point since everyone will want to possess them. Dany fiercely says that they are hers and no one will take them from her while she lives. She is putting on a facade here, and admirably so. As the last Targaryen, khaleesi and now Mother of Dragons (as they started to call her), she is their leader and the one who must organize them to work towards a single purpose. To be in that position means being firm and reliable when no one else could be:

“We follow the comet,” Dany told her khalasar. Once it was said, no word was raised against it. They had been Drogo’s people, but they were hers now. The Unburnt, they called her, and Mother of Dragons. Her word was their law.

They are not strong, she told herself, so I must be their strength. I must show no fear, no weakness, no doubt. However frightened my heart, when they look upon my face they must see only Drogo’s queen. She felt older than her fourteen years. If ever she had truly been a girl, that time was done.

Dany kissed him lightly on the cheek. It heartened her to see him smile. I must be strong for him as well, she thought grimly. A knight he may be, but I am the blood of the dragon.

Like I said before, while Viserys used the expression "the blood of the dragon" to be ostentatious and coerce others into doing whatever he wanted, Dany reclaims it to restrain her emotions so she can be the kind of leader who "belongs to her people, not herself". The use of that phrase is also reminiscent of her duty not being only towards the living, but also the dead, whom she doesn't fail to mention:

Her father had been slain before she was born, and her splendid brother Rhaegar as well. Her mother had died bringing her into the world while the storm screamed outside. Gentle Ser Willem Darry, who must have loved her after a fashion, had been taken by a wasting sickness when she was very young. Her brother Viserys, Khal Drogo who was her sun-and-stars, even her unborn son, the gods had claimed them all. They will not have my dragons, Dany vowed. They will not. (ACOK Daenerys II)

Dany is being very protective of her dragons for two reasons:

She loves them as she would love her human children and considers them family.

They are also the means for her to successfully claim her father's throne. Only then she will honor all of these people that the gods claimed. That is also why she won't admit defeat in Qarth when all hope seems lost - she has the dragons and a shot at doing justice for her ancestors and carrying out their legacy, so she will not look back and be lost.

Because Dany's leadership style is rooted in empathy and accountability, she never takes advantage of her position:

Dany hungered and thirsted with the rest of them. The milk in her breasts dried up, her nipples cracked and bled, and the flesh fell away from her day by day until she was lean and hard as a stick[.]

Another leader might have taken most of the food or water for themselves, but that's not what Dany chooses to do. She "must know the sufferings of her people", after all, even more so when she is unable to help them the way she wished she could. The trauma of seeing so many of her people perish will later inform her attempts to bring peace (untenable as it was) as quickly as possible to Meereen in ASOS and ADWD.

Wine gave out first, and soon thereafter the clotted mare’s milk the horselords loved better than mead. Then their stores of flatbread and dried meat were exhausted as well. Their hunters found no game, and only the flesh of their dead horses filled their bellies. Death followed death. Weak children, wrinkled old women, the sick and the stupid and the heedless, the cruel land claimed them all. Doreah grew gaunt and hollow-eyed, and her soft golden hair turned brittle as straw.

[H]er khalasar withered and died. Around them the land turned ever more desolate. Even devilgrass grew scant; horses dropped in their tracks, leaving so few that some of her people must trudge along on foot.

Dany looked at the horizon with despair. They had lost a third of their number, and still the waste stretched before them, bleak and red and endless.

Even here, Dany does the best she can to alleviate their pain. She respects and follows their customs:

Three days into the march, the first man died. A toothless oldster with cloudy blue eyes, he fell exhausted from his saddle and could not rise again. An hour later he was done. [...] Dany bid them kill the weakest of their dying horses, so the dead man might go mounted into the night lands.

Two nights later, it was an infant girl who perished. Her mother’s anguished wailing lasted all day, but there was nothing to be done. The child had been too young to ride, poor thing. Not for her the endless black grasses of the night lands; she must be born again.

She also feels a lot of gratitude for Doreah and strives to make her death a little less agonizing:

Doreah took a fever and grew worse with every league they crossed. Her lips and hands broke with blood blisters, her hair came out in clumps, and one evenfall she lacked the strength to mount her horse. Jhogo said they must leave her or bind her to her saddle, but Dany remembered a night on the Dothraki sea, when the Lysene girl had taught her secrets so that Drogo might love her more. She gave Doreah water from her own skin, cooled her brow with a damp cloth, and held her hand until she died, shivering. Only then would she permit the khalasar to press on.

Later in ADWD, during a feast where people start bringing up the names of the combatants in the upcoming duels at Daznak's Pit, Dany feels complicit in their imminent deaths. She remembers Doreah as an example of someone who died under her protection. More than that: in Dany's mind, Doreah is proof that "[n]o queen has clean hands" because that's how guilty Dany feels about what happened:

Much of the talk about the table was of the matches to be fought upon the morrow. Barsena Blackhair was going to face a boar, his tusks against her dagger. Khrazz was fighting, as was the Spotted Cat. And in the day's final pairing, Goghor the Giant would go against Belaquo Bonebreaker. One would be dead before the sun went down. No queen has clean hands, Dany told herself. She thought of Doreah, of Quaro, of Eroeh … of a little girl she had never met, whose name had been Hazzea. (ADWD Daenerys VIII)

I want to cry.

Also, even if in vain, Dany's proactive (though failed) efforts to find resources in the Red Waste should not be overlooked, for it's still admirable that she took them without anyone even suggesting:

Dany sent outriders ranging ahead of the column, but they found neither wells nor springs, only bitter pools, shallow and stagnant, shrinking in the hot sun.

And neither should Dany's discovery of how to feed the dragons. While Viserys gave her the knowledge, she was the one who retained it in her memory, guessed that it might work and applied it:

Such little things, she thought as she fed them by hand, or rather, tried to feed them, for the dragons would not eat. They would hiss and spit at each bloody morsel of horsemeat, steam rising from their nostrils, yet they would not take the food ... until Dany recalled something Viserys had told her when they were children.

Only dragons and men eat cooked meat, he had said.

When she had her handmaids char the horsemeat black, the dragons ripped at it eagerly, their heads striking like snakes.

Eventually, Dany and her khalasar arrive at the abandoned city that would later be named Vaes Tolorro. She is the one who takes precautions at first:

They made camp before the remnants of a gutted palace, on a windswept plaza where devilgrass grew between the paving stones. Dany sent out men to search the ruins. Some went reluctantly, yet they went ...

But then, after finding out that the place has figs, fruit trees, vines and water, she decides to enter it, stay, rest and be practical rather than leave it because of superstitions:

... and one scarred old man returned a brief time later, hopping and grinning, his hands overflowing with figs. Other searchers returned with tales of other fruit trees, hidden behind closed doors in secret gardens. Aggo showed her a courtyard overgrown with twisting vines and tiny green grapes, and Jhogo discovered a well where the water was pure and cold. Yet they found bones too, the skulls of the unburied dead, bleached and broken. “Ghosts,” Irri muttered. “Terrible ghosts. We must not stay here, Khaleesi, this is their place.”

“I fear no ghosts. Dragons are more powerful than ghosts.” And figs are more important.

She takes note of the resources available to her ("food and water here to sustain them, and enough grass for the horses to regain their strength") and gets her people to work on the different tasks she finds for them:

Dany gave him charge of a dozen of her strongest men, and set them to pulling up the plaza to get to the earth beneath. If devilgrass could grow between the paving stones, other grasses would grow when the stones were gone. They had wells enough, no lack of water. Given seed, they could make the plaza bloom.

Dany thanked him and told him to see to the repair of the gates. If enemies had crossed the waste to destroy these cities in ancient days, they might well come again. “If so, we must be ready,” she declared.

In these two cases, we have explicit cases of Dany concocting ideas to improve Vaes Tolorro's facility, namely by improving its lawn and fortifying it. Not only that, but we also find out that, under Dany's leadership, her whole khalasar is now taking action and making the place better in the ways they can help:

Women harvested fruit from the gardens of the dead. Men groomed their mounts and mended saddles, stirrups, and shoes. Children wandered the twisty alleys and found old bronze coins and bits of purple glass and stone flagons with handles carved like snakes. One woman was stung by a red scorpion, but hers was the only death. The horses began to put on some flesh. Dany tended Ser Jorah’s wound herself, and it began to heal.

This is all great setup for when Dany becomes Queen of Meereen and handles large-scale projects to improve the city's economy and infrastructure.

However, even though Dany thinks it "pleasant" to stay in Vaes Tolorro, she's aware that she must eventually leave, and she doesn't want to do so without being fairly sure of where she's going. With that in mind, she makes the clever decision to send her bloodriders in different directions so that, hopefully, one might find a path that's not as arduous as the one they had to face:

The next morn, she summoned her bloodriders. “Blood of my blood,” she told the three of them, “I have need of you. Each of you is to choose three horses, the hardiest and healthiest that remain to us. Load as much water and food as your mounts can bear, and ride forth for me. Aggo shall strike southwest, Rakharo due south. Jhogo, you are to follow shierak qiya on southeast.”

“What shall we seek, Khaleesi?” asked Jhogo.

“Whatever there is,” Dany answered. “Seek for other cities, living and dead. Seek for caravans and people. Seek for rivers and lakes and the great salt sea. Find how far this waste extends before us, and what lies on the other side. When I leave this place, I do not mean to strike out blind again. I will know where I am bound, and how best to get there.”

And this decision pays off when Jhogo returns with the three strangers who will guide Dany to Qarth.

Aside from the beginning when Dany ponders which direction to take, neither Ser Jorah nor her bloodriders are ever mentioned as part of Dany's decisionmaking. Instead, GRRM takes pain to make Dany's reasoning and actions her own, while also showcasing her selfless nature. ACOK Daenerys I is a chapter that highlights the authorial intent to portray Daenerys Targaryen as an intelligent, capable and principled leader.

Verdict:

From the Red Waste to Vaes Tolorro, Jorah and Rakharo advise Dany about where not to go (though it must be said that she had already made most of the assessment on her own). Besides that, every single action that Dany takes is of her own volition and without the influence of anyone's help. She:

Exhibits emotional intelligence by acting as a leader who drives her group.

Tries to find resources in the Red Waste.

Attempts to ease the khalasar's pain by taking part in their customs and giving Doreah a less painful death.

Decides to remain in Vaes Tolorro despite superstitions.

Takes note of the resources that she has in her disposal.

Gives her people several different tasks to improve the city; thanks to her guidance, some possibly started to do different activities on their own.

Sends her bloodriders in different directions to find one that isn't as taxing as the previous one.

#daenerys targaryen #asoiaf meta #a clash of kings #valyrianscrolls #dany and her choices

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fortheloveoflizards · 4 years

Text

Headcanons

Wings of Fire Dragon Culture - Mating and Bonding

Skywings: As Skywings are quite gifted in the vocal area, many like to woo their beloved with sonnets, poems and serenades, in addition to the expected aerial displays. Most Skywings don’t choose to mate for life, though, so rather than going through that whole complex ritual just to lay eggs (this is also partly thanks to the war), the tribe took to holding a monthly mating ceremony, absent of all that romantic fluff. Queen Ruby is working towards reintegrating the older Skywing customs in the hopes of cementing to her subjects that the war is truly over. Skywing couples tend to enjoy shared caves and often hunt together, however the task of raising dragonets lies primarily with the mother.

Mudwings: Displays of strength and power are the most common courting technique for Mudwings, as well as showing the ability to work well as a team. Mudwing couples looking to mate permanently may even take each other’s place within their troop for a short time, both to prove to their intended and their intended’s sibs that they are a capable mate. Mated couples are known to share mudbaths, helping lather mud on to each other and massaging scales etc (the scene in The Dragonet Prophecy where Peril helps Clay with his wounds by pouring mud on him would be considered very intimate by Mudwing standards). The siblings of dragons that do mate for life tend to combine to form one big troop as a show of support.

Sandwings: Despite the common belief among most dragons, Sandwings actually mate for life nine times out of ten, and courting can be anything from gifts of treasure, music or food to den building to scavenger hunts - and by that I mean a set of tasks chosen by the dragon being courted, not hunting down scavengers). Sandwing parents are generally pretty protective of their dragonets until around the age of three, at which point the dragonet can either choose to strike out on their own or stay with their parents, essentially paying rent through helping care for any other dragonets, hunting and other manual labour.

Seawings: Another tribe that mates for life, with colourful and intense courting rituals comprised of underwater displays, reef arrangements and jewellery making(typically a shared activity). Many mated couples try to lay as many eggs as passible, as Seawing eggs are among the least likely out of all the tribes to survive hatching; eggs go into shared hatcheries set up predominantly on reefs near heat vents, and neither parent typically has anything to do with the egg until it hatches. At which point one parent is present in order to visually imprint upon the dragonet. Things obviously work differently with the royal family, as the parents are usually away performing their duties. Therefore, each hatching is assigned an attendant, to be present during the birth and to act as a pseudo-parent for the dragonets.

Rainwings: This tribe doesn’t typically mate for life, but when they do they demonstrate undying respect and loyalty(as seen with Mangrove and Orchid). Rainwings also don’t put much effort into impressing potential mates, mostly food, flowers and lots of compliments. As seen in the books, Rainwings shared one big hatchery until very recently, and the whole tribe would care for dragonets as a whole; this is still mostly true - the tribe does share responsibility for all dragonets - but the hatchery is guarded far more carefully and Queen Glory has started construction of both a second hatchery for the Nightwing tribe and a royal hatchery(much smaller than both previously mentioned).

Nightwings: Nightwings place high value on the decision to mate for life, with intricate handcrafted jewellery and most dragons even bothering to wrap gifts if they want a good reception. There is a considerable amount of courting to be had before any mating, for life or otherwise, as a Nightwing wants to be sure of the competence of her mate before having eggs with him. Exchanging romantic letters and poems is not common among the older members of the tribe, although younger dragons may indulge in light wooing whilst caught in the flutters of new love.

Icewings: They have the most complicated courting rituals of all the tribes, as all Icewings mate for life and place VERY high expectations on mated couples to remain loyal and present a united front. Extravagant gifts, complex aerial displays and many handcrafted goods are to be expected of prospective mates, as well as participation in a strange game of cat and mouse, in which the Icewing hoping to woo another is expected to pursue her avidly, and to put up with intense animosity, as she will not make it easy for him; this courting method can take anywhere from a several weeks to years, and the responsibility is typically upon the male(or otherwise socially weaker of the two) to initiate this process, though the female(or more socially powerful) can elude to wanting the game to start. Icewing parents raise their own dragonets until their seventh birthday, at which point they cut off almost all contact unless it’s official or otherwise rank dictated. Adult Icewings act as mentors to all dragonets, regardless of rank or relation.

Silkwings: The basic template for a Silkwing courting ritual is for the would-be mate to construct as elaborate of a cocoon like nest as they can and decorate it with sweet flowers and line it with other soft things. Wing displays akin to that of a peacock are also common. Silkwings usually mated for life, choosing their potential mate before metamorphosis, however under Hivewing rule, more and more Silkwings have been opting for simply laying as many eggs as possible.

Hivewings: Whether more dragons prefer mating for life over for the purpose of laying eggs within the Hivewing tribe changes from hive to hive, but the majority prefer to simply breed rather than going through some complicated maze of flirting and gift giving. Those who do mate for life generally choose to exchange sweets and flowers if anything, and spend as much time together as possible.

Leafwings: Another divided statistic, as the two halves of the tribe share very different view; “Sapwings” like to mate for life, sharing gardening tips and designing elaborate plant arrangements for prospective partners, while “Poisonwings” prefer to just lay eggs and move on, as their focus is primarily on the resistance and defending their forests.

This is another of those ideas my brain couldn’t let go of, so I had no trouble deciding what should be next. I’m also planning to make a follow up for this regarding life mating ceremonies, because a good friend of my family just got married and I’m in the mood for luuuurve! I’ll also probably make a post regarding my ideas about how Mudwing troops go about combining following their sibs’ decision. Probably. Maybe. I dunno, depends on if people show interest in this.

#Wings of Fire #Headcanons #Pyrrhia #Pantala #Skywings #Mudwings #Sandwings #Seawings #Rainwings #Nightwings #Icewings #Silkwings #Hivewings #Leafwings #dragon culture #mating #bonding #big oof y'all

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heartofsnark · 4 years

Text

This Is Love (Chapter Five):Heart Like A Wildflower

Notes: Soooooo we get some Joseph POV for the first time but certainly not the last. Capturing his voice and energy is not an easy feat for me, but I hope this comes across alright. Also this chapter is a bit short for me; so, hopefully that’s still chill because I’m still very proud of it in many aspects.

Word Count: 6253

Chapter Warnings: Joseph being a crazy motherfucker, PTSD Faith Nips (sometimes white dresses are very sheer, don’t kill my vibe), Body Horror

For chapter one and the warnings about this fics overarching themes, please click here!

For the previous chapter; click here!

“We’re moving closer and closer to the edge; with every passing day we grow closer to the moment we’ve been preparing for. When the first seal breaks, when we will begin to reap the land for all we need to survive the collapse; to show our strength and our resilience and march through Eden’s Gate as a family. For I am your Father and you are my children…”

“Praise be to you,” his congregation speaks to him unison, their voices echoing into cacophony in the small church. Despite his growing flock, the church remains small and humble. Joseph much prefers it that way, despite the land and resources to expand, he never wishes to stray from their modest roots.

There’s a catch in his throat as the sermon ends; he means what he says, he always does. But, there is a new gravity to his words. The collapse is close. He knows it. There is a tension rising, the electricity in the air before the storm comes crashing down. The seal has yet to open, but it’s only a matter of time and that time is quickly running out.

His flock stands from the pews, people of varying gender, race, experience, all united under his message. One woman comes to stand before him, a shake in her hands, Layla a young follower who works under Faith’s guidance for the project.

It’s not uncommon for members of the flock to come speak to him following service, asking questions and needing his guidance. He knows every member by name; knows their struggles as intimately as he knows his own. So, it is no surprise to see her coming to him for counsel or comfort. Her attire is more surprising, he knows her typical manner of dress, the black leather jacket on her clashing against the vibrancy of her clothes. Behind her, Theodore, a chosen who works under John, lingers behind her.

“Father Joseph…” She begins tentatively, unsure of herself.

“Layla, The Father has greater concerns than what you’ve drugged in.”

“What is it, my child?”

“I’ve brought someone-”

“A police officer,” Theodore cuts her off, “who arrested brother Nathaniel and I.”

“A wayward soul worthy of salvation, I don’t know how to explain it, but she saved me, and I knew I had to bring her here, if you’re able to speak with her…”

“All are worthy of salvation, so long as they open their hearts to us and join our family,” he tells her, casting a glance at Theodore who avoids his gaze, guilt coloring his features. He is a valuable worker, perhaps one of few who can work closely with John and withstand the youngest Seed brother’s more…dramatic inclinations, but he struggles with Pride and Wrath as many do.

“Please, Father, I don’t know if I can reach her…would you speak with her?”

“Of course, my child.” Joseph lays a hand on her shoulder, hoping to ease some of the young woman’s nerves.

Layla and Theodore fall in step behind him as he makes his way to the door of the church; his brothers and sister are near the exit. Jacob’s scarred forearms are crossed over his chest, John fiddling with the sleeves of his coat, and Faith leaning against a pew.

“There’s a cop outside,” Jacob tells him in warning.

“She’s harmless, I promise.”

Layla words do nothing to ease the tension in the eldest Seed’s body language, prepared to fight for his family and the project whenever necessary. Joseph squeezes his older brother’s shoulder as he passes, hoping the contact can do something to ease the tension within him.

The day has already been a stressful one for the Seed family; John spending earlier hours a mess over someone sharing a video of him online only for him to be ridiculed, something easily sending the younger brother into hysterics. Which, while that certainly hasn’t been a priority for anyone else, John has a way of making sure his concerns become everyone else’s concerns.

Night air chills his fevered skin, wet with sweat from his sermon in the small candle lit church. Members of his flock talking amongst themselves following the service; the only sign of unrest the occasional wary glance towards the side of the church.

“Layla, are you almost fuckin’ done? I’m freezing my tits off out here and I can’t afford to lose much more.”

The crude statement comes from a young woman, sitting in front of the church chin perched on a motorcycle helmet. And all at once Joseph’s breath catches in his throat, pain throbbing in his temples as the hair on the back of his neck stands at end. All at once he’s struck with it, the burden of his prophetic stature, stuck with a simple fact.

He knows.

He knows it as well as he knows his own name. As intimately as he knows his own heartbeat. Knows it as certainly as he knows the collapse will come. Knows it as deeply as he knows the Voice. He knows it as well as he knows his own word; the prophecy and truths that he speaks.

He knows.

She is the Lamb.

The one who will open the first seal, the harbinger of doom, the beginning of the end. Unwittingly or not, in rebellion or in ignorance, she will be the one to bring forth the collapse. He’s felt it, the tension, the build, creeping towards the edge with every passing moment and it’s because the Lamb has arrived. They’re truly nearing the end.

From between the ears of her helmet, her dark eyes watch everyone with intensity, flickering like a cat prepared to run or fight should anyone draw too close. Her gaze lands on him and his family; a dark brow raising, as if to question their presence on their property standing before their church.

It has been said that over time, one stops seeing new people, seeing instead patchwork of those they’ve met before. Traits and details becoming echoes of the first person to show them. And as the Lamb stands before him; Joseph finds himself piecing her together through comparisons.

The way her short dark hair falls across half her face only to be pushed back, reminds him of a love he lost long ago. There’s something in the eyes, as she meets his gaze, head held straight. Memories of a young Jacob standing up for him; the unbreakable will and fire always burnishing behind his eyes, an unspoken strength. She holds that same strength, but much like Faith it hides behind a soft face and a short build, just shy of being the height of his shoulder. When her gaze lands on Layla, the way the side of her mouth quirks up, the raise of her eyebrow; mischief and confidence radiating off of the expression, brings back memories of John using his silver tongue to get them out of trouble. He knows people, can read their hearts; she’s a soldier, a survivor. Someone needing a purpose, not yet aware that she already has one.

It is easy to blame the Lamb for their role, for opening the seals and beginning the end. But the Lamb works in the place of the Lord, whether they know it or not, they’re the hands through which he acts. Setting forth the Collapse is not an act of malice on the part of their Creator. That first seal must be opened and someone must do it; it’s what must happen for those chosen to reach New Eden. Whether she will do it aligned with them and understanding of her role or not remains to be seen. She is chosen as well, a special soul given the gift of purpose, what she does with her gift is another matter entirely.

“I’m done waiting, Layla, jacket,” The Lamb speaks, holding her hand out to Layla. The out of place leather jacket clearly meant to drape across her shoulders instead of the flock member’s. He watches the muscles beneath her shirt shift, pulling tighter over her biceps as she impatiently waits.

“You should have come inside, the time would have flown by,” Layla tells her.

“Nah, in my experience sermons last even longer when you actually have to listen to ‘em,” her deep brown eyes flicker to Joseph, “no offense.”

“None taken, I’m Joseph Seed,” he extends his hand to her and she slowly takes it, as if he may strike her, her hand is scarred and calloused, a rough burn across her palm.

“Nice to meet ya, I, uh, recognize you from the giant fuckin’ statue.”

“Isn’t it lovely, you can feel his love spreading across the land,” Faith speaks up, the statue her doing, “it’s nice to see you again.”

For the first time, The Lamb drops her gaze, red flushing across her tawny cheeks.

“You know her, Faith?”

“We saw each other briefly, a week or so ago, she reached out for me.”

“Uh, yeah, I’m like real fuckin’ sorry about that,” she scratches the back of her head, “I, uh, thought you were someone else…”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah…” She stares at her feet, fiddling with her uniform shirt, a lie.

“Well, I’m not sure who you thought I was, but I’m Faith.”

“Nice to meet ya, for real. And…sorry again.”

“While we're making introductions, it’s a pleasure to meet you, I’m John Seed,” the youngest Seed brother steals her attention, sticking a hand out for her to shake. His lawyer smile bright and wide, more Duncan than Seed in the moment.

“Uh,” she reluctantly shakes his hand, “likewise I guess…”

“We’re always happy to meet one of this county’s finest.”

Jacob scoffs and rolls his eyes, the least tolerant of John’s chameleon-like behavior, knowing full well that just a week ago John was complaining about the police force for arresting Theodore and Nathaniel. This exact officer doing so, according to the former.

“’preciate it, but uh, if the introductions are done,” she tells him as she drops his hand, she’s not phased or charmed, refocusing on Layla again, “I’m actually kinda in a hurry, so if I could just get my jacket back, I’d appreciate it.”

“Layla, are you holding her jacket hostage?” He casts a soft gaze towards Layla, no malice, it’s nothing significant and despite The Lamb’s insistence on getting it back. She doesn’t appear angry, just…on edge. Layla shrinks, like a scolded child.

“Maybe…I just wanted her to meet you.”

“A noble cause, my child,” he squeezes her shoulder, “but we’ve inconvenienced her enough.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry.”

Layla pulls the leather jacket from her shoulders and hands it to Joseph, head ducked down. He offers it back to The Lamb with a gentle smile, a gesture she returns with hesitance, the expression not quite reaching her eyes as she takes her jacket from him.

“Thanks…” She pulls it on, despite being a little large on the small woman, it suits her.

“This Friday, we’re having a barbecue following our service, it’s open to everyone, if you’d like to come.”

“While I definitely, totally, would if I could, but I work Fridays so….,” she shrugs her shoulders, “I’ll just get out of your hair, now.”

And she’s off, a quick hand wave as she rushes out of the gates, eager to get away from them and the church. Hopefully, his words will reach her and she’ll find the path before it’s too late. Her role as Lamb has marked her worth, her importance, the significance of her salvation.

Dahlia slams her trailer door shut behind her, scrubbing her hands over her face. She feels dirty, gross and vile. Religious people do that to her, make her feel like something is wrong with her. They’re pure and she’s filthy. Meeting them, The Seeds was even more off putting than she expected. They’re not bad people; at least she can’t make that sort of judgment off of a five minute interaction. But, they’re off. From John’s businessman smile that didn’t meet his eyes to Joseph’s intense gaze that cut through to her soul. They hardly felt human. Though, if they weren’t off, she can’t say she’d feel any different, given her hatred of religion.

She hasn’t ventured to step foot in the church in Falls End and hasn’t talked to the pastor there either; a streak she plans to maintain. Unless they need her out there as a cop, she’s not spending casual time there. Even free food isn’t enough to tempt her into spending time at church. She takes a shower, watches tv with a lackluster microwave meal as dinner and tries not to think about that family for the rest of the night.

The Seeds are already close to a distant memory as she works the next day; stuck as a desk jockey to her misery. Filling out paperwork for hunting violations; that and traffic violations are the biggest crimes of Hope County. She understands the importance of protecting the environment and the animals but does the paperwork for it feels like fucking overkill. Her hands are cramping from typing and signing shit, all because a bunch of idiots decided to go hunting bucks out of season.

Something pings off her skull, a crumpled piece of paper falling to her desk after hitting her. She glares at Pratt who’s smirking like the little shit he is. She throws it right back, pelting his cheek when he turns away. He rips another piece of paper from a notebook, crumpling it up into a ball and throwing it at her face only for her to bat it back at him. Then she rips a piece of paper out of her own notebook and throws it at Pratt’s dumb face.

She hits Pratt in the nose with one; it falls and adds to the pile of paper balls that’s built around them, when the door opens. Nancy, the dispatcher and secretary for all intents and purposes, popping her head in.

“Deputy Hale,” she speaks softly to catch her attention, “there’s someone here to see you.”

“Me?”

Dahlia looks over to Pratt as if he knows something but he just shrugs. She clambers up from her chair, double checking that her uniform is in order for utmost professionalism as she leaves the bullpen office; Pratt following in tow whether from curiosity or boredom she’s not sure.

In the lobby is Layla from the other night, flashing a bright smile Dahlia’s way when she emerges. She’s holding a Tupperware container and the young deputy can’t help raising an eyebrow; what is going on here?

“Deputy Hale!”

“Hey, is something wrong?”

“Oh, no, no, no,” Layla shakes her head emphatically, “I thought I’d bring you something to eat.”

She thrusts the Tupperware container out at Dahlia who reluctantly takes it, brushing across Layla’s hands and feeling the warmth of the food.

“Why?”

Pratt elbows her in the ribs when she asks the questions mouthing the words ‘don’t be rude’ at her when she looks at him incredulously. It’s a genuine question, why the fuck would Layla bring her food? Not that she’s complaining, it’s just weird.

“Well, you don’t cook right?” she notes Dahlia’s confusion, “your grocery bags last night were full of microwave meals or packaged crap, I figured you could use some decent food. As thanks, for helping me.”

“Uh, yeah cooking isn’t…a huge priority for me.”

“Her lunches are usually energy drinks and zingers,” Pratt cuts in, literally no one needs that information, so she elbows him in the ribs right back.

“That’s not good, Deputy, you should take care of yourself…eating garbage, smoking, you should be more concerned with your health.”

“I appreciate your concern, but if your meals come with lecture, I’m gonna pass,” Dahlia tries to push the container of food back into Layla’s hands.

“I’m sorry, I’m just worried about you…I think you should really reconsider coming to our barbecue Friday.”

“Not happening.”

“I’m sure, if you gave our church a chance-”

“Layla, I said no and I meant it.”

“But-“

“No buts,” Dahlia puts the food down on the counter, “I know you mean well, but you need to back off.”

With that Dahlia marches back into the office; heat simmering beneath her skin. It stings at the back of her eyes, claws and burns it’s way up her throat. She runs her hand down her face, raking her nails down the skin harder than necessary as if she could carve out her anger as if the red lines could free that feeling, release it from her body.

Stripes for the backs of fools, they are to the soul what healing blood is to a wound, for the Lord disciplines the one he loves.

She kicks her desk, the voice reverberating in her skull isn’t her own and she wishes nothing more than to carve her own head open, to cut his voice and memory out like a cancer.

“The fuck was that about?” Pratt asks as he comes into the office, nearly making Dahlia jump out of her skin. He’s carrying the Tupperware container of food, raising an eyebrow at her as if she’s grown a second head.

“I helped her out last night, some dude was harassing her, I had to wait outside a church for hours and now they’re trying to drag me to some fuckin’ barbecue.”

“And you reacted like a lunatic, because?”

“’Cause I don’t like being harassed into religious shit.”

“Eden’s Gate invites everyone to their little barbecues,” Pratt shrugs, “it's not a big deal, just some free food.”

“If I say no the first time, no the second time, no the third time; don’t ask me a fourth time. It’s not that fuckin’ complicated.”

Dahlia plops herself down in her chair, kicking at her desk again as she does so, as if it’s to blame for the mess in her head.

“Eh,” Pratt shrugs, “they don’t mean anything by it, not really.”

“I don’t like it,” she says again with a groan, pinching the bridge of her nose, why can’t people just accept she doesn’t like this. Why is she in the wrong for not wanting to be badgered?

“You’re...surprisingly sensitive, you know that?”

“Piss off, I’m not sensitive.”

“You kinda sorta are. Bail on the F.A.N.G Center ‘cause it’s too noisy, avoid bars, avoid barbecues, hate church. Do you even like being around people at all?”

“Sometimes, it just depends….like what’s going on, how many sounds there are... and stuff.”

“So, you’re sensitive.”

“Well, doesn’t it bug you! It’s manipulation, food and barbecues to trick you into a false sense of security, then bam, you’re dealing with an eight hour lecture on how god ruins your life ‘cause he loves you or some shit.”

“And...we give people coffee before interrogations and then bam, they’re in a cell. We’re not any better. Everyone is at least a little manipulative, it’s just life, why is it any worse when christians do it?”

“It’s not, I just, I just don’t like church, okay? Can we drop this?”

“Okay, okay, but if you don’t want the food…”

“Keep it, my appetites gone, just give some to Petunia.”

He rolls his eyes but, when he thinks she’s not looking he goes out back. Pratt can say what he wants but he has just a big soft spot for that opossum. The day continues with desk work; Whitehorse scolding them for the paper mess when he sees it. Hudson calls them children and honestly, they kind of are. She’s not sure why Pratt brings out that immature gremlin part of her, but at least it’s fun.

“You know, this is your fault,” Dahlia tells Pratt as she’s picking up crumpled paper and tossing it in the trash can. Whitehorse said their better not be any paper on the floor by the time they clock out. It’s getting very close to that time; Dahlia having procrastinated the clean up and, well, Pratt is still leaning back in his chair like he hasn’t got a care.

“According to you, everything’s my fault.”

“I mean, yeah, but it’s true.”

“How you figure?”

“You threw the first paperwad at me.”

“You didn’t have to throw one back.”

“You didn’t have to throw one in the first place!”

“That’s besides the point.”

“It’s literally the entire point.”

Another crumpled piece of paper rattles off her skull, plopping down to the pile. She glares up at Pratt who’s smirking like he’s the funniest person in the world. Everyone keeps telling her how Whitehorse is soft and easy on her, which may be true, she has no doubt that being sent their way by Lloyd has made the sheriff more fond of her. But, she can’t expect that to keep her safe from reprimand. She’s still on probationary hire and has to try to be on her best behavior at least some of the time.

“Pratt, you’re in more danger of getting your ass reamed than her, so you should probably watch it,” Hudson pipes up, checking her phone as they get closer to quitting time.

“No ones getting reamed, it’s paper, for fucks sake.”

“Doesn’t mean he won’t make you stay back to clean it up.”

“Eh, sounds like a job for a probie,” Pratt tells Hudson, before throwing a paper ball at Dahlia’s head. She chews her lip and adds to it; that’s a thought, Pratt getting stuck behind on clean up. She may be short, but she’s fast… Dahlia watches the time as she keeps throwing paper balls into the otherwise empty trash can.

“You’re just being an ass now,” Hudson tells him as they near the final minute of their shift. Dahlia standing up with a now filled trash can.

“Hey, Pratt,” Dahlia catches his attention, “got ya a hat.”

She promptly plops the trashcan on his head , paper falling down on him and slaps the side of it for equal measure.

“Fuckin’ hell!” He yells as she darts off, his problem now.

“Bye Hudson!” She calls out behind her as she rushes to clock out and leave the station, hyena cackling as she goes. The image of him with that trash can on his head, god she hoped Hudson managed to take a photo for her.

Her cheeks hurt from smiling, her stomach from laughing as she jumps onto her motorcycle. A peaceful ride back to the trailer park, the wind whipping past her and music rattling inside of her helmet.

Then she sees her.

Faith looks so completely out of place in front of the rundown trailer park, long white dress fluttering in the breeze as she balances on a rock near the entrance. Un-fucking-relentless. Her green eyes spark alight when she sees Dahlia pulling up on her motorcycle, waving her direction. Dahlia rides right past her, if she pretends she didn’t see her, it’s fine. She locks up her bike and makes a beeline for her trailer door.

Just as she’s closed it behind her, intent on avoiding the pushy little church mouse, a knock rings out. She can’t exactly say she’s not home, can she? The young deputy opens the door a crack, Faith standing on her porch as if it’s the most natural thing in the world, smiling when she sees Dahlia’s face poking through.

“Deputy.”

“I already told Layla off for this pushy crap, I ain’t in the mood for preaching.”

“I just wanted to chat, is that so wrong?” Faith asks as Dahlia pushes the door open just a hair more.

“Does this chat involve trying to get me into church?”

“I don’t know, we haven’t had it yet.”

“I appreciate the honesty, but,” she glances down seeing Faith’s bare feet, “are you not wearing shoes?”

“Uh...no.”

“Are you stupid?” Dahlia asks, finally opening the door fully.

“That’s rude.”

“There are needles on the ground, dumbass, needles.”

“So, walk with me and make sure I don’t get hurt.”

“Y’all really like taking advantage of my kindness, don’t you?”

“So, you don’t want to walk with me?” She pouts and bats her eyelashes up at Dahlia.

“Come on,” Dahlia tells her as she leaves, “let's get this over with.”

“Are you always so negative?”

“Life tends to do that.”

Faith walks alongside Dahlia as they leave the trailer park; watching carefully as the woman walks, to ensure she doesn’t step on anything dangerous. Not that the church mouse seems to have any concern about the issue, nearly floating along as if she’s meant to be there.

“It does, your life has worn on you a lot, hasn’t it?”

“No more than anyone else.”

“I doubt that.”

“Do you?”

“I expected to be waiting on you for longer…”

“Why?” Dahlia raises an eyebrow as Faith balances across stones in the field around the trailer park.

The white clad woman starts to wobble, sticking her arms out to balance herself from the misstep, and Dahlia instinctively sticks her own hand out to catch her. Their hands catch each other, skin brushing together. Dahlia bristles and tries to pull away, the warmth of someone else’s skin jolting her, but Faith intertwines their fingers before she can avoid the touch.

Faith’s hand is slimmer than her own, but the fingers slightly longer, more elegant. The skin softer and nicer than Dahlia’s too, smooth without calluses or scars.

“Everyone knows the deputies go to the bar after work; the one in Falls End, I assumed you’d be with them.”

“I can’t drink, legally, yet.”

“So, you can’t be there without drinking? Don’t they invite you?”

“No one wants to take a teetotaler to a bar.”

“That sounds lonely, do you have friends in the trailer park?”

The sky's alight with stars, dotting the black blanket of night. A chill in the air hangs through as the night settles in, goosebumps prickling up at the places her skin shows. She wanders how Faith stands it, in her thin white dress. Her eyes cast down at the woman and she realizes how truly thin the dress is; the soft pink of nipples just showing through. Someone should buy Faith a coat…and shoes…

“Not really a cop friendly place, pretty sure they’d rather hang me than be my friend,” Dahlia looks back to the sky, ignoring her discovery to try and find Andromeda.

“Do you have family nearby? You’re not from around here, are you?”

“I’m not close with my family and uh, from Louisiana.” That’s all the information she offers, not comfortable spilling her life story to some stranger, even a soft handed stranger with pretty eyes.

“So, you’re all alone.”

“Thank you for the observation.”

“Layla said she was worried about you, you’re alone and don’t even take care of yourself.”

“Yeah, uh, I think you all worry a bit too much about me.”

“It can be hard, accepting kindness when you’re so used to cruelty,” Faith pivots to face Dahlia and captures her other hand, intertwining the fingers there as well, “we become accustomed to the pain, thinking it’s what we deserve. So, when we are shown love, it feels wrong, unnatural, it scares us so we avoid it.”

“Are we done with this conversation? I wanna be done with this conversation.”

Dahlia yanks her hands from Faith’s, the intensity of her words and her gaze eating away at the deputy. But Faith yelps, the sudden move knocking off her balance from the little stone ledge she’s been walking along. Dahlia jumps up the ledge and recaptures one of Faith’s hands and wraps an arm around the woman’s waist, to catch her further.

They stare at each other for a moment, soft green eyes looking up at her, they’re pressed close together in this position. The warmth of the youngest Seed’s siblings body pressing against her, nearly every inch of their bodies together. Faith feels so delicate, lithe and fragile in her arms. Breath fanning across each other’s faces, the tiniest of spaces having stopped them from an accidental kiss. Any passerby might think they were dancing and Dahlia had dipped Faith.

A little...awkward, but at least Faith didn’t go tumbling back onto rocks. Pink colors the apples of Faith’s cheeks, faint across her delicate cheeks.

“You okay?” Dahlia asks, maybe the cold is stinging Faith’s skin or she was flustered from the slip?

“Just fine, thank you,” Faith says as Dahlia steps back, gently guiding Faith off the little ledge, back safely on the ground. The deputy’s eyes find the expanses of Faith’s arms, scars catching the moonlight. A chemical formula seemingly carved into one arm; each covered in track marks. Faith fiddles with a dirty blond lock of hair, focusing her gaze on the ground.

“Are we done, now?”

“I know you’re busy and I know you’re reluctant, but even if it seems like there’s no place for you anywhere, there’s always a place for you with us.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“I’ll leave you for now, then. I hope to see you soon.”

“Good night, Church Mouse, be safe.”

They part ways, Dahlia making her way back to the trailer park. She has no true desire to deal with Faith or Eden’s Gate, but she seemed less pushy at the very least. Though the conversation wasn’t anymore fun. Layla’s conversation left her nearly foaming at the mouth. Faith’s has left her wanting to find the nearest hole and bury herself in it. Yes, Dahlia is a lonely piece of shit, thank you so much for pointing it out church mouse.

She closes her trailer door behind her, more aware than ever that her trailer is empty. No one to greet her, no one to talk to. No friends to spend her nights with, no family to call or do anything with. Lloyd and Caroline are people she cares about, certainly, but she’s not their kid. She was a two-year charity case.

After a shower, Dahlia lands on the couch, watching tv again. When she thinks of it, she hasn’t slept much in her bed since moving in here. Spending most of her free time in the trailer on the couch; falling asleep watching tv, listening to music, or reading horror manga on her phone.

Dahlia tried the first night, the large bed the trailer came with clearly meant to accommodate a potential couple. She’s not sure how to distinguish bed sizes; if it’s a double, a king, a queen, whatever. But she knows every bed she’s ever slept in before, aside from a few early childhood nights of crawling into her mother and dad’s bed, she’s been in one meant for just a single person. Her childhood bed, her bed at Lloyd and Caroline’s, or she’s been without a bed entirely. Sleeping in her share of closets, on benches, on the floor, etc. She can sleep on a park bench or in the bayou muck, but not in too large of a bed. It makes absolutely no sense, but she’s use to being a cluster fuck of a human being.

She smokes a cigarette, easing her nerves, trying not to think about her conversation with Faith. The loneliness that keeps seeping into her chest and following her wherever she goes. She’s long ago accepted that it’s a part of her life now, a part of her, and no one else is to blame. There’s no place or group of people that will erase.

People, groups, like Eden’s Gate like to tell people they have the cure. That panacea to fix every trouble someone may have. They give pretty smiles and tell people that with a little bit of faith they’ll find a place where they belong. That following their ways eases that ache, makes everything okay.

But, it’s not true. Not for her at least. God never made her feel more at ease, more at peace, there’s no god strong enough to ease the ache of loneliness. Nothing on the outside can fix what’s wrong with her inside. She can sing hymns and praise the man in the sky until she’s blue in the face, but it will never make her happy.

If anything, the idea of god just pisses her off more.

Someone who is supposed to hold all the power, who knows each of his creations intimately, yet doesn’t give enough of a shit to save them. This supposed god watched and knew her suffering, knew everyone’s suffering, and didn’t care. Hell, even the bible makes it clear god is a dick.

Why the fuck should she praise him?

If he were real, she’d punch him.

Eden’s Gate likely means well; she knows that. They think they’re doing the right thing, saving her soul. All strong religious types think that way; they tell you you’re going to burn in hell as a helpful warning like letting you know your shoe is untied, they just don’t want you to get hurt.

If hell is real…eternal damnation is worth it to piss off god.

She staggers up and out of bed, the bed she doesn’t sleep in, something itches at the back of her throat. Dahlia doesn’t question it, she moves, something is climbing up her esophagus. Rough and tearing up the tender flesh. Metallic taste of blood clings to her taste buds, cloying and noxious as she runs down the hallway towards her bathroom. The fluorescent light of it is like a beacon in the twilight hours. She doesn’t remember her hallways being this long, but with the urgency of something tearing her throat open from the inside, she doesn’t question it.

Dahlia reaches her bathroom and grabs the sides of the sink, nails digging into white porcelain, the strength of her hold is the only thing keeping her grounded. She coughs and gags, spattering blood across it, staining the white. Her breath staggers and stalls unable to break past what’s clogging her throat, ripping it apart. Blood and bile coating her tongue as she tries to get it out.

She coughs and hacks to no avail, only more blood for her troubles as it carves away at her throat. Dahlia shoves her fingers into her mouth, pushing further into her throat, trying to get a hold of whatever it is, to pry it out.

Then she gags and it all comes out; full white blossoms tinged pink with her blood fall into the sink. She spits out soft stained petals and dark green leaves. The flowers from the field by the trailer park, that were outside the church, that she saw when she first saw visions of Faith. She thinks she’s free, the flowers free from her throat. When her stomach churns again, gagging and coughing as fresh blossoms burst forwards from her throat. Each one cutting off her air for a nauseating moment before she can force it out. Again and again, blood stained flowers fall from her mouth. Her vision swims as white flowers float in a puddle of blood within her sink.

Something’s wrong. Something’s wrong. Something’s wrong. Something’s wrong. Something’s wrong. Something’s wrong. Something’s wrong. Something’s wrong. Something’s wrong.

She falls to her knees, clutching at the base of her throat as she vomits again, blood and flowers splattering on her thighs. Dahlia gasps and takes in a desperate breath, throat raw and aching. Blood coating her teeth and tongue, syrupy and metallic, a petal stuck to her lips as she gasps. A soft sputtering cough sends blood spittle into her hands.

Is it over?

A tickle itches at the back of her raw and stinging throat, her stomach feels bloated with expanding and blossoming flowers ready to climb up her tender airway. She retches into her hand, bloody petals coating and clinging to her hand as she struggles to puke the rest up, blood dripping down her wrist in heavy drops.

Somewhere a woman laughs, the sound echoing in the bathroom, surrounding her. Mocking her pain or celebrating it; she can’t be certain.

Dahlia wakes up with a jolt, a cold sweat clinging to her skin as she gags and coughs, the phantom sensation of flowers in her throat. She sits on the edge of the catch, sputtering to catch her breath. Nothing is in her throat, the dream was ridiculous, vomiting flowers. But it felt real and her throat aches deeply. She rubs at the back of her neck, waiting for her heart to stop rabbiting in her chest, for the tension in her muscles to fade.

She stands from the couch and takes the short walk to her bathroom, legs wobbling as she moves. The pure clear white of her sink is a stark contrast to the red stained one, filled with flowers, in her nightmare. There’s still a tickle in her throat, a faint metallic tang of blood on her tongue; echoes of her nightmare. The faint sound of laughter still resonates in her skull as she scrubs water over her face, as if she could wash the nightmare from her mind.

#far cry 5 #fc5 #joseph seed #faith seed #this is love #dahlia hale

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