CARS THAT GO BOOM // beep beep

[RAINWHISKER]

Twolegs were vile creatures, described as being tall, standing on two paws, and hairless. None of that meant much to Brook, but the fact they ripped cats from their homes and families, harmed cats, did. She's heard stories of RiverClan tangoing with twolegs not long ago, and despite swearing to steer clear of those areas, an afternoon hunt caused her paws to be standing in the area of the twoleg camp.

At least the risk had earned her a vole, it dangled loosely in her maw.
What was not so pleasant, as she was aiming to escape the area a singular paw steps on... something. Brook isn't quite sure how to describe it, but it elevated her paw off the ground by mere inches and carried a strange texture. Before she could even flinch her paw away a terrible sound erupts in the distance.

HONKKKKKKKKKKKKK!
HONKKKKKKKKKKKKK!
HONKKKKKKKKKKKKK!

Brook has never jumped so high off the ground; her heart has never jumped so far out of her chest.
Fight or flight kicks in, and Brook chooses to fight. She spins around and wildly hisses, waiting for the enemies deafening battle cry to grow closer.

HONKKKKKKKKKK!
HONKKKKKKKKKK!
HONKKKKKKKKKK!

Furiously it continued to sound, enraged that Brook had disturbed it's property.

// its dropped car keys!! she pressed the panic button LMAO
the monster is parked far off, figured maybe a twoleg was here to prepare the camp grounds for the winter. theyll find the keys after the cats have left lol ​

---

Spoiler: TAGS | 10/18

( casual character / "speech" / ic opinions )​

╰ ★ ჻ 001 GENERAL INFORMATION ,
· BROOK, female — she / her
╰ ‣ 23 moons . ages on the first
╰ ‣ riverclan warrior . believes in starclan
╰ ‣ former member of the pine group

╰ ★ ჻ 002 VISUALS & AESTHETICS ,
· DOMESTIC FELINE, smells like fish and river , status — 100%
╰ ‣ blue tabby . blue eyes . blind

╰ ★ ჻ 003 MENTALITY & MANNERISMS ,
╰ ‣ Observant, reliable, hardworking, overcommitted, humble, takes critique personally
╰ ‣ finds minimal difficulty in relating to others . quick to show mercy, unless her family is at risk of harm
╰ ‣ Doesn't appreciate most proper titles, doesn't feel deserving of them

╰ ★ ჻ 004 INTERACTIONS & RELATIONSHIPS ,
· NPC x GRACE, sister to Lightningstone & Stormpaw
╰ ‣ bisexual.
╰ ‣ skilled fighter . average hunter .
╰ ‣ unlikely to start fights . unlikely to flee .
╰ ‣ attack in underline . penned by user @ava.​

 

[CICADASTAR]

− ♱ ABOUT : he encounters her moments after the distant bellows begin, strong and loud beyond weeping willows. hung over the edge of the rivers, trout just grazing ivory teeth when -- HOOOONK. it falls, landing back in the gently - billowing waters with an offensively - loud plomp. the man merely stares downward for a moment, the fleeting glimpse of a dappled green - black body as it flits further into the murky depths, leaving only his dismayed reflection to stare incredulously back at him. cheeks still dripping with the weight of riverwater, he stands, head lifting to where the . . monster? a monster? seemed to yowl in agony. it was far off but his stomach still seems to drop, even further once he hears . .

hissing?

pushing through the reed, he spots brook, whirling wildly, “ it’s far off — “ a small item. it catches his attention mid - sentence, glinting silver in the unbidden sunlight, “ is . . what is that? “ a murmur, gentle, mostly to himself. it shines, beckoning him forward, and so he does creep — body low to the grass, blue luminaries peering hard at the shimmering almost - stones. cicadastar tips his head, squinting just slightly against the gleam of reflection that assaults his eyes. it does not move — it didn’t appear to breathe, not from where he could see. it was not a bug, not one that he knew of. it lie completely still ; no long, stringy bits twitching upon its head. his maw parts, taking in the briefest scent of twoleg, slowly lifting a tremulous, sharp - knuckled paw.

he slaps it.

the things jingle cacophonously and the man immediately puffs up, back arching abruptly as if attached by string. his curly fur puffs, ears pinning. in the distance, the monster seems to hiccup — before bellowing it’s long, angry yelps once more.

out of character information translations

• − CICADASTAR ; he / him. roughly thirty nine months old, riverclan leader
  − handsome, lanky black smoke tortie chimera with curly fur and icy blue eyes
  − gay. speaks with a thick german accent, former marsh cat, penned by antlers
  
  
• none.

​

​

 

[BEESONG]

the shrill noise is startling, sharply mechanical amongst the softer sounds of the wetlands. beesong wouldn't expect to hear the shrieks of a monster so far from the twolegplace, but life has a funny way of delivering surprises...

of course, his clanmates are unaware of the source. his ear strains to pick out their jumbled words beneath the howling, but the confusion and fear written across their features is enough for him to guess what they're talking about. "it's just a monster," beesong offers, the nonchalance of his shrug surely unhelpful. but, unexpected as the cacophony is, beesong cannot say that he's scared. a bit pissed that the quiet afternoon has been ruined, sure; however, growing up on the streets of twolegplace has desensitized him to such noise. "sometimes they start yowling. heard 'em all the time, back in the twolegplace. you'll be fine if you steer clear of their paws." and fine they'll be, seeing as there is no monster laying in wait anywhere in sight.

they shift their weight from paw to paw, gaze lingering on cicadastar. would cicadastar find this reminder of beesong's origins distasteful? they don't want mass panic over nothing, but the potential of their leader's judgment, punishment even, creeps down their spine. clearing their throat, they're quick to correct their mistake, fawning words chosen carefully. "i don't miss it, the twolegplace. the riverside's much more... peaceful." the lie slips easy off of their tongue. they do miss the twolegplace... or rather, they miss their twolegs. memories of gentle touches to their forehead and soft voices murmuring. beesong never understood what they were cooing, but they had felt loved nonetheless.

beesong wonders if they'd ever been worthy of such a thing.

cicadastar's attention is enraptured by something nestled in the grass. beesong hums, craning his neck to peek at the object of his leader's curiosity...

oh. what's that doing here? "i have no clue what that is, though." a tip of his snout towards the object, squinting as the sun gleams across the odd silver mechanism. another lie. he recognizes it, understands it to be something that his twolegs would grab before leaving the den, but he knows not what it does. it seems far too personal of a revelation, that he associates this thing with twolegs. with his twolegs. it is like revealing his underbelly to the enemy. his jaw sets, firm and rigid.

cicadastar smacks it with a paw, and beesong stifles a snort of amusement as their mighty leader nearly jumps out of his skin from the jingling.​

 

[HOUNDSTRIDE.]

❝  Once there'd been kitten, one shaped much like the chocolate tom that joined their fray now, though with softer eyes and paws too big for his body. Scrappy little thing, with puffed up fur an' a fresh, bloodied wound right across his muzzle. A brutal scar, it would turn out to be, but not the most fearful memory of that day. Echoing through the stream of time, that sound snaps Houndsnarl to a near panic. Curled up tight 'neath the slumbering monster's belly. A twoleg kit's paw reaches for him, desperate. Covered in something like an extra layer of skin– it doesn't even flinch as he lashes out at it. Scrambling back further. Their earth-touch paws clamor and thump as another set comes in. Let's go. You're going to be late for school. His heart'd felt fit to hammer out of his chest. But dad, the cat! I think it's hurt.

Its roar then had nearly shattered his skull from the intensity. Now, it's nothing but a memory rattling around with the broken remnants of his fear. The tom's spine's gone stiff, rigid and taut as he turns towards the sound. It's distant. The patrol'd broken off slightly to hunt their own ways, but he's close enough to hear the voices. The concern and the clamor. Like Bee, he'd grown up around the chaos. Flittering around the river territories where they brush the twolegplace right up until he'd come to the marsh group those many moons ago, he'd been accustomed to all sorts of nonsense. Unlike him, though, there's no positive association hidden in the rubble of time.

"Just a monster," he echoes, followed with a quiet snort of amusement. "What a life you must've lived to say somethin' like that." Amused as Hound tries to be, the tip'f his voice goes dull, dry. "Should leave it. Take our prey back to camp 'fore it catches up." And makes us prey itself, he does not say.

†  ooc notes information †

• 
  ooc: —
• ──── houndsnarl. trans male, he/him pronouns.
  ──── approximately 30 moons old, or 2.5 years.
  ──── bisexual with firm male preference; single.
  
  ──── a chocolate tabby with ( stylized ) low white and intense lime eyes. lean and lanky,  with whiplike musculature and a long, quick stride. hound's notable features include his impressive height, the long scar across the left side of his face from nose to jaw, his very deep, dense fur, and the confident manner with which he conducts himself.
• "speech"

​

 

[FISHFACE]

A series of resounding, air-rending noises ring through the air. As to what they may have originated from, Fishface held little understanding; all he knew is that the racket set a splitting headache in motion, and the longer the sounds persisted, the worse it became. Wincing unpleasantly, he holds his pointy head in the shrill screeches' trajectory, and picks out the vague outlines of his clanmates off yonder.

Had they something to do with it? Chances are they did, seeing how they remained in place instead of fleeing for their lives. In fact, they stood so close to the pandemonium and safely observed it, that the oriental tom felt an inclination to do so as well - even in spite of the fact that the repeating uproar caused his skull to throb.

As Fishface isn't too far away, he is able to bridge the gap between him and the twoleg campsite in the span of a fleeting sprint. The recurring booms reach a point of nigh-deafening as he encroaches the patch of land, and his pawsteps hinder in speed when he reaches the congregation of fellow warriors. Cicadastar's visage momentarily stands out to him, though his attention is immediately seized by the words uttered by Beesong and Houndsnarl. A monster.

"I didn't know monsters cried," he states blankly, learning his lesson for the day. Dark eyes shift from his clanmates to the nearby twolegplace, so as to perhaps spot the monster in question should he look hard enough. That is, until he promptly decides otherwise.

If something could make monsters cry, then Fishface didn't want to see it nor be within its imminent proximity.​

 

[TIDEFROST]

The sound, while distant, is loud.

It's suddenness scares Tide, causes the black smoke to jump. But, its cry is a familiar sound, similar to those he'd heard in his time before he called RiverClan his home. Twolegs. This was a twoleg sort of noise.

His ears twitch at the monster's cry, icy eyes spotting the crowd around Brook. Was this... Did this have to do with the monster?

Dark paws make their way over. There's an odd object placed between the group, one that sparks a vague memory.

"I've seen one of these before," he tells them, sniffing at the jingly object. Surely, his former twolegs had something like this? For what, though, he isn't sure.

A monster, both Beesong and Houndsnarl confirm. Just as Tide had suspected. The cry is a new piece of knowledge for Fishface, who says he didn't know monsters could do such a thing. Good for Fishface, learning new things.

The black smoke nods, eyes brightening as he looks over at him.

"Their water monsters cry too," he tells him, "They sound a little different to this one though... kind of like --" he pauses, takes a breath.

"HoooOONNNNK!" Tide does his best to emulate the noise he'd grown to know so well, voice deepening as he drags out the noise. He thinks he did good. Good enough to get the idea across, he hopes.

"I think they do it to say hello to each other," he continues. This monster, however, sounded scared. Was it alone, with no one to say hello to?
​