camp FROM OLYMPUS | fashion

[BLOODPAW]

Bloodpaw had never been one for dressing up, the trinkets stored in her mother's nest were toys moreso than accessories, things to be maimed and murdered in place of the frogs and crows she would soon learn to catch under her mentor's watchful eye. Ferndance hadn't seemed to mind her destruction too much, and even joined in on occasions, but that day, she held a different perspective. Needledrift and Ferndance shared a white feather, adorned with brown stripes. Her brother owned two feathers, brown and grey - it was that which made her decide that she wanted one of her own. Unable to sneak into the Warrior's den thanks to a surly sleeper blocking the entrance, the cinnamon tabby took matters into her paws and ventured elsewhere to find herself a feather. The apprentice den did not yet feel like a home to Bloodpaw, even as she grinned at freedom, her nights were often spent curled up with her siblings instead of in her own nest, but, the apprentice den was full of trinkets, just like the Nursery had once been. Her peers often found things on their patrols to bring home with them, and whilst jealousy gnawed at her belly that they got to do cool things, it was not the motivation for stealing from one of them.

Because Bloodpaw didn't know she was stealing at all.

Strutting out from the apprentice den, Bloodpaw held her head high and flicked her tail about like royalty. At the tip of it was a precariously placed feather, grey and white with a black band to divide the two, and one gust away from flying away from her. Pricking against her skin, it felt uncomfortable, itchy almost, and Bloodpaw had to wonder how in StarClan's name birds were able to tolerate being stuck with billions of them. Still, if this was the price of fitting in, she would give it a go. When no one seemed to pay the large apprentice any mind, she craned her head a little higher as if trying to reach the canopy itself. No one bit still. Bloodpaw made a wasp-swallowing face, then, began to hum, a mixture of a purr and a meow that the cinnamon tabby did her best to make sound like a raven - unfortunately, she had skipped Smogmaw's lesson on birdcalls, and what came out instead was a cry for attention and a prayer that someone noticed the change.


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[smogstar]

Material accessories ought to be the primary saving grace for the marsh clan's collective sanity. A staple trait about cats is their proclivity towards shiny objects, he's come to learn in his moons spent as one, and even he can't help the itching urge to hoard, collect, and hold, regardless of use or utility.

And why shouldn't he? At least some appreciation should be dispensed for the little things, particularly in a clan so rife with disdain and derision that any joy, however menial or temporary, could potentially be his last for a while. His days spent digging hollows under tree roots and tucking his findings away are no longer days he experiences, but they were never ones wasted, he realises. Doodads collected, mementos tucked away, anything as an excuse to scrape away time and focus. Though a deputy strict and stringent, he cannot fault his clanmates for appreciating what commodities they can manage.

Idle bemusement plays across his previously-vacant expression, gaze crossing camp's breadth in observance of Bloodpaw's frolicking. As per his perspective, expressing interest in the clan's favoured pastime indicates naught but potential. Already is his apprentice an avid fan of trivial distractions. So long as it doesn't interfere with tasks, he shouldn't bother too much in objection.

He swishes his tail with the beginnings of approval, and a gravelled hum crawls from his throat while he encroaches. "Something's different about you," the tabby would remark, posture hunched so as to meet her at eye level. His gaze wanders, but he isn't entirely able to pinpoint what it is. Somehow, in some irreconcilable, unexplainable, illogical way, he fails to notice the she-cat's bauble. Breath whistles through yellow teeth in a puzzled intake. "You groom yourself this morning?" he asks in a dulcet manner, "Something's strange about the way you look."

// mobile post​

 

[CHILLEDSTAR.]

DON'T YOU GIVE ME UP, PLEASE DON'T GIVE UP​

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their head tilted to the side as they watched bloodpaw stroll out of the apprentice, head held high and something upon them. some sort of... decoration? huh. they didn't think they'd ever see that. they stood up and walked over to the cat, sniffing the apprentice with a hum and nodding in agreement with smogmaw, even if he wasn't the smartest about it. of course something was different about the young molly.

"err... nice... feathers? where did you get them? off a bird, or were they given to you? looks... nice."

they couldn't stand things in their pelt. it looks uncomfortable enough as it was, especially since they prided themself on having a clean pelt. more power to bloodpaw. they don't think they wanted anything in their fur like that. but if she liked it, and it wasn't hurting anyone, who were they to stop her?
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[BASILPAW]

Bloodpaw was one of the new apprentices who had joined their den lately which meant he was no longer one of the new ones!, or the youngest for that matter. Wow, what time could fly by fast, huh?. Basilpaw was unsure how he felt about it but! he did felt a new sort of responsibility over the young ones or maybe he just wanted to look cool in front of cats like Pipitclaw. It was hard to tell when it come to Basilpaw!. Or maybe his motivations at this point was quite obivious!. In any case he approched with a wide grin already put into place and with a blink of his eyes looked Bloodpaw over. "Oh Smogmaw! can't ya see that Bloodpaw has a feather in her fur!. Aren't deputies suppose to notice small details like this about their clanmates?." Did Smogmaw even care about any of them to be honest?. Or...maybe he was just to shy and didn't actually know how to get other cats to like him?. Maybe his mom never taught him!. Basilpaw might have considerd to offer his service to give Smogmaw a complete makeover and help him to get friends in this clan but...he had been mean to Big Fry so nuh-ah!. Big mean Smogmaw could go and live in a corner all friendless for all he cared!. Yeah!, totally!.

His attention went back to Bloodpaw as he decided to show Smogmaw how a true compliment actually sounded like. " Hey Bloodpaw!, you look very nice in that feather!. It makes your eyes really stand out. I think it makes you look super cute!" he said truthfully because she did looked cute with that feather behind her ear!, and white really suited her too!. Basilpaw felt proud over his compliment and even better he had defeated both Smogmaw and Chilledstar when it come to the competition of who could give the best compliment!. Because this was what this was about....right?.

In Basilpaw's mind it totally was and he had won!. Never would he get defeated by the likes of them.




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[SINGEPAW]

*+:｡.｡ Bloodpaw was someone Singepaw highly admired. One of the first, if only, kits - now apprentices - who understood the thrill of a good, fun tussle. And not just that, but she understood the stupidity of the new rule change. It was...awesome, having someone who agreed with Singepaw for once. So of course, he liked to stick around the russet apprentice, either inviting her to a spar or enticing her to rant with him about the rule change - her company was usually always nice!

"You look like you got your tail stuck in the fresh-kill pile" Singepaw would laugh as he made his way over and caught sight of the feather jutting from his friend's tail. Luckily none of her stolen treasures had come from his nest as Singepaw wasn't the type to collect. Not that he hadn't considered it - he quite liked birds and their anti-bug properties. He even liked owls despite the whole incident that happened in his youth...or maybe because of it. It was cool knowing birds could be both prey and predators. If he had to put Bloodpaw in one of those categories though, she'd be a killer all the way! She was too cool not to be!

And it would seem Basilpaw agreed. Singepaw would look at the grey apprentice with a growing feeling of irritation in his gut. Looking back and forth between Basilpaw and Bloodpaw, he'd find himself - very annoyingly - noting what the other boy was noting. The feather didn't do shit to her eyes - how could a feather bring out anyone's eye color? 'Sides, Bloodpaw didn't need a feather - her eyes were already an impressive sunset orange, brighter even than the dying rays. They were actually kinda cool to look at - um, but in the sense that Singepaw wanted eyes like that - the color, he means not - fuck !

"Starclan above ask her to be your girlfriend already or quit with the sappiness! I can feel my fur getting sticky being around you" Singepaw would hiss, shoving at Basilpaw's shoulder - maybe a little rougher than he'd have expected even from himself. It - that wasn't quite what Singepaw meant to say, only knowing this because his gut tightened a little at the idea that Basilpaw would follow his advice. Bloodpaw with a sorry scrap of fur like Basilpaw? Please! She was too cool for him!

"You should fill up your tail tip with more flowers, maybe you'll like a lion! You're already big enough for the role may as well complete the look" he sneered, batting away Basilpaw's influence from his thoughts. "I think it makes you look super cute!" but his stupid, sappy words kept ringing in his ears - like an ugly cricket song when you're trying to sleep! Hell, it rang so loud in his ears it almost sounded like the sentence was being spoken in Singepaw's voice!
Can you imagine!

*°:⋆ₓₒ Updated 2/13/24

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  GENERAL:
  ☄ Singepaw
  ☄ Cismale — He/him — Questioning sexuality
  ☄ 4 moons — Ages 1 moon every month on the 2nd
  ☄ NPC x Duckshimmer (brother to Swallowkit, Sneezekit)
  ☄ Shadowclan — Kit
  ☄ Apprenticed to Pipitclaw
  
  
  
  
  COMBAT:
  ☄ Physically easy | mentally easy
  ☄ Attack in bold #b8312f
  ☄ Can be power played just ask
  injuries: faint scars on flanks from an owl attack
  

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