sensitive topics MY OWN WORLD OF MAKE BELEIVE // intro.

[Maggotfur.]

EYES COVERED IN INK AND BLEACH​

maggotkit | 02 months | female | she/her | physically easy | mentally hard | attack in bold mediumpurple

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Maggotkit stood in the shadows at the edge of the nursery, in the gap that was the entrance and exit, watching silently as her clanmates rose for the day. Very little changed from day to day - warriors going on patrols, apprentices doing chores and going out to train, elders grumping about as queens shared tongues - always watching their kits like hawks. Oh how she envied them - the fluidity with which they moved about their day, the casual conversations, the attention and respect they commanded. The carefree joy of her denmates - all of which she lacked.

The rather pretty child had never been like them - she'd never had a mother, she'd killed her at birth. Her father had never bothered to care for her, giving her a name in his spite but nothing else. His other kits more important than his mates murderer. Certainly, Snailcurl had fostered her, but it wasn't the same. And she had her own kits to worry about these days - after all, Sproutkit had just passed away. And Maggie herself had just... faded into the background, forgotten yet never quite gone.

Jaded teal eyes watched carefully - cautious and observant, the look of a child who'd grown up much to soon and seen the harsh realities of life. Prey was scarcer than ever in leafbare, kits just another mouth to feed. The carrionplace the only course of prey, even that tempered by the danger the food source posed.

And yet she was almost untouched by it all - one could not starve if they'd never truly known the feeling of a full belly, and she'd made due for a long time now by eating icicles and digging up insects when the gnawing pains would not leave. One could not be hurt by loss when it was an everyday occurrence - sure, she was sad at the loss of life, loss of a good warrior or kit or elder, but it was the kind of second-hand sadness one felt for a stranger you didn't know or care about. It wasn't as if Sproutkit was her sister, so why should she care? Family was just another word for weakness.

Some might consider her cruel - callous, unfeeling. Broken even, depending on ones view of the situation. But truly, she was just simply there - existing, observing, adapting. For now however, the young girl would slip forwards, sticking to the sidelines as she wove her way over to a nice flat rock and laid down, her senses still alert even as her body seemed to relax into what little comfort the sun touched stone has to offer, gaze watching as pale flakes of snow lazily fluttered about the camp.


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[Magpiepaw]

Magpiekit was born in waste, discarded upon a pile of debris and two-leg garbage and left to his own devices. His life before was a blur of nothing, he could scarcely remember the cages lined so full fur pressed through the mesh, the ground matted with bits of food and other unpleasant things he was often crushed down into by the other occupants. He had no memory of a mother or siblings, if they existed they had faded from his thoughts entirely; his life started when he opened his eyes to a starless sky and found himself peered down upon by the many eyes of the marshland's shadows. He was given a name, a home, nothing was asked of him and he gave nothing back. They expected him to live and nothing further and he was still learning to do that at times. He walked strange, he talked strange, he knew it and was unapologetic about it all. To foster him meant to accept him and ShadowClan had done so.
This clan was littered with strange cats, cats who spoke in falsetto tones laced with lies, bore scars of all kinds, had markings blessed and many night; some star kissed and others fire touched.
When he spotted Maggotkit perched on the stones nearby he could only remember the faint warnings he was given to not climb them. He was too unsteady, too clumsy, but he was also defiant and so he wandered over noting curiously that her blue laced pelt seemed to blend into the dreary gray of the granite surfaces and he said nothing immediately as he focused on his task. Tiny black paws clung to the edges of a flat surface, hindlegs kicked and although his body swayed as it usually did he maintained his footing and eventually dragged himself upward onto the stone alongside her; pushing his face down into it as he heaved the rest of his body up to stand.
Magpiekit's wide forget-me-not blue gaze pierced the other for another slow lingering moment of silence before he chirped like birdsong in greeting, "Your entire head is..." He raised a paw, gestured it over the top of his skull and back and then set it down with a firm stomp, "....if I die would you eat me."
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[GHOSTPAW]

Again, he watches. Because they were interesting, and he feels like... they know something no one else knows. Some things no one else knew. Magpiekit knew lots of things. Maggotkit seemed along for the ride... maybe. She was upset a lot of the time, Ghostpaw thinks. Upset about what, he doesn't know. A lot of cats were upset in leaf-bare. She was born in leaf-bare, so maybe she could only be upset.

Magpiekit is found alongisde her, scaling the rock with ease, compared to the last time he tried. Magpiekit says something. Ghostpaw doesn't know what. He comes up beside them, and he tries to do what Magpiekit had done, that weird thing with his paw. Ghostpaw drags it up and around his skull. "What is it? What is..." he does it again, looking expectantly at the kit. "Does your head shape make you hungry?"​

 

[FLICKERFIRE]

ShadowClan has become a haven for strange, brain-addled kits. Maggotkit and Magpiekit and Eeriekit, all rejects better left as the refuse their parents had clearly thought they were. It's an uncharitable thought, one she doesn't really believe, but her aching, empty stomach and the cold that will never leave her body leave her grouchy.

Still, she can't help but snort derisively, listening to the weirdos talk. Ghostpaw's idea is funny to her, even if she doesn't have the energy to express it like she once might have. "The shape of your head does make you stupid," she mutters gravely to the younger cats. "The flatter it is, the less brains you got. You lot better go get checked out."​

 

[Maggotfur.]

EYES COVERED IN INK AND BLEACH​

maggotkit | 02 months | female | she/her | physically easy | mentally hard | attack in bold mediumpurple

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Magpiekit is a certain kind of strange that the girl is still uncertain how to feel about. He's not as annoying as the 'normal' kits - always playing about cheerily, carefree and sheltered. Their happiness gets on her nerves. But nor is he as jaded as she - something still oddly naive and innocent about him. Cold gaze slowly turns upon his inky black figure, a slow blink the only reaction for a moment. "... If I was hungry enough," she answers, and though she wants to ask what exactly his half aborted gesture and confusing mix of words mean, there is no need to for Ghostpaw has already spoken for her.

Long tail lashes languidly, swishing from side to side like a pendulum, perfectly in time. Normally she'd ignore flickerfires words, dismiss them as meaningless, but something about the way they are said almost seems as though they're also aimed at her as well - something that irritates her to no end. "Then what's your excuse-?" she says slowly, tone flat and impersonal, as though asking an innocent question despite knowing well what she's doing - what she's implying.

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[FERNDANCE]

"Oh it's very true. The part about your head shape makes you hungrier, that is." Drawn over by the intellectual conversation taking place, the ticked tabby offered an oblivious smile to those that had already congregated. Her own head was moderately wedge-shaped, with almond-shaped eyes making it seem smaller than it actually was. Her ancestry was mostly mixed, but it was difficult to ignore the signs of a less-feral ancestry. "I want to eat kittens all of the time." She cast her glance over the little ones present, blinking and unperturbed by her own statement, spoken with her usual softness. Slowly, her emerald gaze shifted away from Maggotkit and Magpiekit, towards the lead warrior and the stark white apprentice. She paused on them for some time, contemplating, considering, and finally, communicating. "I don't want to eat kittens," she informed them, her tone failing to shift in spite of the glint of amusement in her eye. If she was forced to eat any cat, it would be the adults. They were bony at the moment, but they would still provide more sustenance than any kitten could. She wondered if it was the starvation that caused such frequent thoughts, or if cannibalism was just another wonder of life to try.





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[Magpiepaw]

The dark kitten hears Ghostpaw's question and Flickerfire's incorrect answer, his gaze slowly drifts towards them with blatant disappoint wrought across his maw and seering into them with both wide blue-violet eyes. He wondered what it might be like to live so blissfully unaware of things and decided he didn't think he could handle it, the not knowing was so dangerous. The world only worked if you knew a lot, they surely weren't going to last in their state and he would pity them if he had the time but he was more interested in Maggotkit's answer. Yes. If she was hungry enough.
Magpiekit nods enthusiastically, assurred that if he had to be eaten it would at least server a purpose and by a cat with the proper notability as well.

His fur puffs up in alarm to Ferndance's nonchalant comment, he watches her with the wariness of an insect in the reflective eye of a crow, but she corrects herself and he feels his pelt wrap back around him as each raised hair slowly flattens back down. Good, good.
"I'm small." He comments, assurred with her change of heart but wanting to emphasize that if she wished to eat a cat then she had best consider one more worth her weight. He'd feed a single Maggotkit probably, but not a full grown warrior. It wasn't worth it. After a careful moment of consideration he raises his paw to his head again to mimic the flailing gesture he'd given before and catches Ghostpaw in his ethereal stare, "Her head is a star spot. Like you. You're entire body is a star spot."

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