twolegplace heart shaped sunglasses — intro

[dolly lynn]

❝ 'CAUSE YOU AND I ✿°.✦ ————————————
The city stinks today, Dolly Lynn notices, having just returned from one of her little 'vacations' around the outskirts of the wildcat territory. She tosses her trademark mane of thick blonde hair across her roughly pretty face; unlike a lot of the cats she sees in Twolegplace, she actually takes care of her thick chimeric fur. Hopefully the stench that seems today to permeate the air in a thick, rotting artificial wave won't sink quite as easily into her fur; daily efforts of rolling herself in Twoleg flower-patches leave her with a scent as sweet as it is smoky, since said beds often contain the long-dead stubs of cigarettes. Dolly proceeds down an alley with her blonde-crowned head high, swaying slightly as she makes her way down the familiar asphalt pathways. Looking for something to eat, as any cat who lurks these concrete webs often is; but she wouldn't be caught dead rooting around the trashcans piggishly as they all do, or hunting the scraggly Twolegplace rats. She is much too pretty to dirty her cream paws like that.

Dolly leans over a puddle, clear if somewhat ringed by scummy bubbles, admiring herself. She tilts her head this way and that a bit, fluffing up her hanging sheet of honey-colored fur, dark at the roots; when she's satisifed with her primping, Dolly Lynn proceeds down the rest of the alley to a nice fence backing a Twoleg den. She checks its color quickly—a nasty monster-crash relationship with a tom who resided in a redbrick one continued to haunt her—blue, she's fine then. The shecat sways slightly, head tilted back to survey the endless sky, spine curved with faux casualness as she perches neatly atop the fence, waiting. Hopeful, she watches the ebb and flow of passing cats. Moons of doing it and her late mother's guidance have taught Dolly how to parse from the crowds the right kinda cat for what she needs. Someone who'll keep her in good food for a bit but won't ask her to come live with 'em or—she shudders—that dreaded question: 'What are we?' Dolly Lynn's had her share of run-ins but she's smart as she is pretty, she thinks, and so she keeps watching. She don't mind a little flirtation, after all.

[penned by dejavu - ✿]

———————————— ✦.°✿ WE WERE BORN TO DIE ❞ ​

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[VISERION]

Exploring the Twolegplace was a fun hobby, but one the pale tom could only undertake whenever he was certain his skin wouldn't turn crispy and his eyes wouldn't weep. Sticking to the alleyways gave him the most protection, but they were not the safest places, and as he scuttered on a path less familiar to him, his head was held high and his head tilted left and right with a swiftness that could've given him neck strain. It was about halfway down the reckless journey that gangly limbs came to a halt. His strong nose detected something unfamiliar, something that went beyond just the stench of another Twolegplace rogue. With a twitch of his ear, he looked up. Ah, that explained it. "Nyeh, you reek!" Viserion, his form clinging to the shadows of the fence, offered a toothy smile to the stranger. His voice, shrill and close to giggles that never erupted, meant no offense as it insulted the chocolate and cream she-cat. It was simply fact, whether she had been had brought with it unfamiliar scents to an already sensitive sense of his. It wouldn't be the first time smelly strangers had entered the Twolegplace, Viserion got the feeling that this was her true home.

No wild cat he'd ever seen sat on the Twoleg fences with such gusto, and upon completing his observation, he gave a wriggle of his haunches and clambered up to join her. Long legs struggled to find a consistent grip on the thin material but eventually, he managed, his knees and elbows sticking out like a frog's as he cocked his head towards the stranger. He pointed to his ears with a whiplike tail, hoping she would get the memo for why he stared at her mouth so intently but avoided her eyes. Now more than ever, concentration mattered, he was grateful he was not tired enough to forget about it. The outside world was frightening and fascinating, who knew what could be learned with a bit of conversation? "Where'd ya go? The beyond?" Viserion raised a paw and planted his chin upon it, squinted eyes batting as if preparing for the juiciest gossip one cat could ever learn. He'd never ventured outside the Twolegplace himself, his wanderlust did not take him that far and with the threat of wildcats, he preferred the comfort of his own domain. "Did ya meet anyone? Do tell!"
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[JERSEY BOY]

❪ TAGS ❫ — Unlike Dolly Lynn, Jersey Boy fully embraces the stench of rotting garbage and puddle-soaked asphalt that wafted from the alleys. He had never given too much care to his appearance, and while he didn't look like a complete mess, he knew that preening and primping was a futile effort in a place like this. A splash there, a stain there, eh what was the harm? It would come out eventually.

With that all being said, Dolly Lynn was a sight for sore eyes. She was undoubtedly beautiful, with her luxurious locks of fur and her impeccable standards of beauty. Jersey Boy was quite the local to these streets, so it wasn't unusual for him to run into the she-cat and strike up a conversation. Some other tom was there talking to her, so naturally an innate sense of competition sparked within him and prompted him to hop swiftly atop the fence to join the duo. Not that he and Dolly Lynn were ever an item, anyway, but he'd be damned if he said that he didn't like that flirtatious attention. "Hopefully not. I'm all the cat you'll eva' need, Baby-Doll, yeah?" Jersey Boy makes his presence known, a thick accent rolling off of his tongue.

The tuxedo tom did not sit, but instead only arched his back in a stretch. He rolled his shoulders and snorted, "You lookin' for a wild cat now? Us city slickers ain't good enough for ya'?" His tone is more teasing than anything, though he was genuinely curious as to why Dolly Lynn cared to roam near the forest anyhow.​

 

[dolly lynn]

❝ 'CAUSE YOU AND I ☼°.✦ ————————————
The sound of a voice temporarily catches Dolly Lynn's attention in that way it only does when it might promise a charmable cat, something that quickly dissipates when she spots the uncannily pale cat padding on scrawny limbs over to her. Recognition chimes faintly in her mind—after all, those freakish eyes would be hard to miss, she thinks bemusedly. Electric-cobalt eyes, oversaturatedly pretty, narrow at the pale creature; Dolly Lynn's sleek muzzle wrinkled ever-so-slightly in distaste at his shrill tone and—to her, anyways,—rude remark. Shortly after, the skinny thing is clambering up the fence awkwardly, limbs splaying, in a way Dolly doesn't think she'd ever stoop to. Their prying pink eyes drill into Dolly alongside that grating voice, questioning her with a certain eagerness about her jaunts around the wildcat territory.

Just as she debates whether or not to give the white cat a tempting tidbit of information, something else tempting arrives: a familiar black-and-white pelt, fur slicked over his forehead; Jersey Boy. Now that was a cat she recognized, well-known local (especially amongst the other she-cats, if you believed the rumors), a cat more fun to play that push-and-pull game with than any other she'd met yet. Dolly Lynn tosses her mane of hair across her face, lids dropping as she settles casually back on the fence, "Maybe, maybe not, handsome," the shecat teases, smoky accented voice playful and lilting, leaning in close to Jersey Boy for a moment before pulling herself back, "A gal can't go for a little stroll 'round th' forest these days? Maybe I found a real manly wildcat ..."

It's difficult to tell from Dolly's silvery, heavy-lidded demeanour if she's kidding or not. She laps coolly at her impeccable fur, a contrast to some other cats; Dolly always kept herself in good looks, "Midnight trysts ... moonlight romances ..." she mews smoothly, tilting her head, bright gaze almost a challenge, "Forbidden loves ... tempting, ain't it?"

[penned by dejavu - ☼]

———————————— ✦.°☼ WE WERE BORN TO DIE ❞ ​

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