pafp EVERYTHING IS PEACHY KEEN — INTRO

H

HAILSHARD

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It isn't earth-shattering, this revelation. Earth-tilting is more like it, as though the perspective of everything has shifted slightly— enough to be noticeable, enough to be a pain in the ass, and enough to piss them off.

They don't pay attention to whatever Gravestride is preoccupied with, dragging them away with a series of painful nips and tugs until they've gotten the hint to follow Hailshard. They march him to the outskirts of camp and begin pacing a tight circuit, back and forth, back and forth to the frenzied rhythm of their thoughts. Then they abruptly stop and face Gravestride's taller figure, inhaling severely.

"Nothing is ever going to be the same and I'm going to get fat and all you have to do is stand there looking like a frog bashed over the head." Their paw cuffs one of Gravestride's ears. "Like that. Stupid and bewildered."

//@GRAVESTRIDE.
ooc information
  •  
  • HAILSHARD: hail for their pale eyes; shard for the sharp curve of their white face marking.

    nonbinary, uses they/them/theirs pronouns. 50 moons old.
    omnisexual. frenemies with benefits with @GRAVESTRIDE.
    ⸻ carrying gravestride's kits; fairly early in the pregnancy.
    a stocky feline; medium height. thick, black & white fur. ref.

​
 
They do indeed look stupid and bewildered. It can hardly be helped, as they are dragged from their duties within the confines of camp by a violent nip to their jaw, and another to their shoulder as soon as their pace falters with questions. Their mind is busy with the convoluted mess of their past, seeking reason for chastisement and irritation– anything more than what they usually come with. Whatever lies between them is bittersweet (mostly bitter) and sharper than soft. Hailshard would as readily tear a bite from his tail as force them to eat. They play as well as they argue, though communication is far from a strong suit.

That much becomes readily and abundantly clear. Hailshard's tongue is still deep in their own throat as they pace. Graves knows better than to intervene, but even they cannot help but lift a paw at the chaos of motion. "Spit it out already," he snaps out, to his immediate and rather theatrical regret. A swipe of a paw, a few biting words. Gravestride's stooped posture rises immediately, old wound sparking with pain as they lift it off the ground. "What are you going on about? Looking like what?" They can't help but step closer, too accustomed to their spats to do anything but. "Even if I look a frog, at least I'm more coherent than one, unlike you."
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﹥ˏˋ〘  OOC NOTES INFORMATION 〙ˊˎ﹤
  • ooc: —
  • GRAVESTRIDE. their name was requested & chosen due to their injury in the great battle
    —— amab genderqueer, uses they - them but will allow and may at times use he - him.
    —— omnisexual (?) demiromantic. frenemies with benefits to hailshard. sire of their kits.
    —— approximately four years old, an unknown half sibling to cicadastar and wasprattle.

    a medium-furred (genetically long) black smoke with low white and pale, near-colorless blue eyes. heterozygous curled ears and a long, flowing tail that tufts out towards the tip. each of his paws has one extra toe. he is very tall yet lean, and walks with a distinctive limp due to a poorly healed paw.
  • "speech"
​
 

"You two are always so fun to overhear talking." She was not purposefully eavesdropping, not entirely. Perhaps she had heard voices in the distance and gone to investigate, perhaps she had noted the way Hailshard seemed somewhat bothered and by their phrasing it was not hard to see exactly why-at least not for her. Gravestride was another matter entirely and about as dense as a collection of rocks. She swore that the cats in ShadowClan all had heads full of bees with how much they lacked the ability to pick up subtly, it was really quite trying at times and cats like her who spent their days acting coy and beating around the bush truly struggled in such an environment. How could she be playful and whimsical if she had to spell everything out for any cat worth talking to? Shame most of her woes were not so trivial, she could be happy in a world where the only things that plagued her existence were minor inconvienences.
Halfshade struts forward, tail high and smile one of utter amusement at the plight befalling the pale-headed specter of a cat. They had no idea what was being implied but it was something she herself was excited for. Eventually she would also be joining Hailshard in the nursery, though that was a discussion to be had first with her beloved and problematic tabby partner.
"You may need to give it to them with a little more bluntness. A boulder rather than a claw, dear."

​
 
DON'T YOU GIVE ME UP, PLEASE DON'T GIVE UP​
at no point in time did chilledstar understand what the hell these two were talking about. it seemed common, they always managed to have insane rambles and chilledstar was a cat on a sideline, watching with uncertainty as to what the name of the stars had they just witnessed. their blue gaze blinks, ear twitching in disappointment as halfshade joins the scene. tch. they stood from where they'd been cleaning their fur, slowly striding over, with a lick of their own muzzle.

"you two are absolutely not here. there has to be a brain somewhere in there, right? between the both of you?"

they pause, in faux thought before nodding.

"ah, i see. you share the brain. and today is gravestrider's turn, yes?"
​
 
જ➶ "What are you guys on about? Who's gonna get fat? Though I can agree, Grave does look like a frog." His soft voice floats over with ease as he makes his little tease, amusement flicking in her gaze. He cocks his head slightly, moving angles so he can see most of the group of cats. His gaze is curious though and he merely came over because he heard the bustling activity. Honestly he didn't expect Halfshade nor Chilled to be over here. But he guesses he is just a lucky goose today. The chimera then gives a smirk as he casually sits down among the grouping. Wondering just what Hailshard was talking about. Why would they be getting fat? Not from eating frogs and lizards everyday. Maybe on a strict diet of rats? Trying to sink claws into snakes? Hmm. Tilting his head he debates over what his leader says and he snickers casually.

"If they do share a brain then I don't think there is much hope for them."​
 


Smogmaw rejects their purported interest in the topic. Hailshard and Gravestride hide their superficial personalities behind the veneer of a shallow exchange, and they do so at a volume loud enough for passerby to hear. When their insincere words hit his black-capped ears, the deputy cannot contain the scowl which infects the lower half of his mug. Utterly obnoxious is what it is.

He does not spare them the same patience or pleasantries imparted upon them by Halfshade. "The two of you have rocks in your head," hurls the dark-smirched tom, grazing his sweetheart's side whilst he strides towards them. He can at least find solace in Chilledstar and Chittertongue's refusal to entertain their absurdity. A tail flick to the half-toned molly's flank precedes his ensuing utterances, as curt and uncaring as they may be. "But, I agree with her," he purrs, training his vision on Hailshard, "you ought'a smack 'em harder next time around. Maybe 'til they see stars."

It's a smidgen too soon to trivialise their previous leader's death, something within him warns, and thus he swallows the urge to speak any further on the matter. It would have been funny, though, asking Gravestride to say hi to Pitchstar.​

 
⊵ the nearby undergrowth shivers for a few seconds before they begin parting to make way for a chocolate silver molly who becomes an unfortunate bystander to what appeared to be a squabbling between gravestride and hailshard which seems to have already garnered quite the audience as aquamarine hues flit over the figures of halfshade, chilledstar, chittertongue and smogmaw who graciously invite themselves into the couple's dialouge. if you could even call them that. geckoscreech isn't quite sure if they ever made an official statement about where their relationship stands but regardless something has happened. again.

from what the lead warrior overheard on her trek back to camp was hailshard complaining about getting fat while their phantom of a partner will be free of whatever plagued the other and pieces are quick to fall into place which immediately has geckoscreech letting out a exasperated exhale. are shadowclanners just that thick in the head that they cannot decipher something as simple that? lithe limbs weave around the two so that they may lead her to chilledstar's side, an unamused expression washing over mocha dusted features. "surely it's not that hard to figure out what's being implied here, right? " the rosette queen flicked her ear once. she knows she's only contributing in the nosiness by standing around with the rest but she doesn't plan on staying for long. ​
【 THERE'S SO MANY FAKE ASS PEOPLE PREYING ON YOU.】
 
Their only immediate answer for Gravestride is a clenched jaw and narrowed eyes, so pale that the left seems to disappear into Hailshard's white face. Though they say nothing, the sheer mass of disdain wrinkling their nose and curling their lip is a monologue all on its own. They only move when Halfshade arrives, all coy amusement and playful slights.

A boulder. How right she is.

They draw in a deep breath, prepared to give voice to the rocky tumult of admission building an avalanche in their throat, but Chilledstar thinks they're funny. It prompts a matching jab by Chittertongue —no surprise there— while Smogmaw makes a unified front with Halfshade. She could call the sky pink and Smogmaw would crawl inside her arse to agree and be right. Geckoscreech, at the very least, avoids adding herself to the gallery of jesters.

It's so very typical that the only cats who don't have to check their ears for brain leakage when it rains are mollies.

"I," they begin, inhaling audibly, "am PREGNANT you mouse tail sucking trout, and now I have to worry about how much they'll take after the stagnant, pond-water breathing, bile snorting cat who sired them."
ooc information
  •  
  • HAILSHARD: hail for their pale eyes; shard for the sharp curve of their white face marking.

    nonbinary, uses they/them/theirs pronouns. 50 moons old.
    omnisexual. frenemies with benefits with @GRAVESTRIDE.
    ⸻ carrying gravestride's kits; fairly early in the pregnancy.
    a stocky feline; medium height. thick, black & white fur. ref.

​
 
❪ TAGS ❫ — It was not hard to pick up on the bickering between the two cats, as Roosterstrut had not been far from camp when it filled his ears. He doesn't know the pair well, nor the nature of their relationship, but it's obvious by now that a topic of issue has spawned between Gravestride and Hailshard — pregnancy. Kits were sweet little bundles of joy, but Roosterstrut can understand the frustration of not necessarily expecting them to come about. "Er... congrats? I think?" The young warrior offers, though a twinge of nervousness pinches his belly at the thought of being scolded by the pregnant cat.

As always, in an attempt to brighten the mood, Roosterstrut chirps, "Hey, it won't be so bad. They'll be loved and cared for here. And hey, maybe they'll take more after you." Roosterstrut issues a glance in Gravestride's direction, as if silently saying "sorry for throwing you under the monster". It seemed that the smart thing to do in this situation was to appease Hailshard by any means possible in order to avoid their fiery wrath. They seemed very unhappy as it was.​
 
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