backwritten NEED TO KNOW ♡ BLAISE

[DAWNGLARE]

[ Backwritten flashback <3 Blaise and Val are 2 and 3 moons respectively! ]

There's been– been a lot of noise lately.

Rumbles and ramblings, the growling of twoleg monsters rumbling and rambling outside. Valentine watched through the windows... the windows high, high up. He nearly could not reach them, but he was stronger now. Bigger– stronger. Growing into his skin, Lovebug had said, and he was! Filling out all of his flesh-stuff, blood and goop. He watched them owlishly and... the wind whispers in his ears.

He sees Lovebug a-lot less now. Lot-lot less, but she came the other day, and so did Nova, and they were whispering. Whispering about the twolegs, and... someone new. (Nova says not to listen to grownups talking, but the ghosts tell him anyways. What's the point?) New things, new, new. New usually means good, like a toy or a moon or a smell, and a new smell meant new-good, or– new-bad, new-awful, but that was rare...! The new moon was scary, it disappears, goes far, far away. Nova says it's still there, but Lovebug says it leaves them. New moon? No, more no moon. New moon was a lie. But of course– of course Nova leaves just like the moon does, of course he wouldn't want to- to tell him. He and the moon were friends, and they conspire against the sun. But it'd always win, no matter what, Lovebug says. The moon is stupid for ever thinking it could win, she says, and Valentine believes her. Why would she lie? Only bad cats lie.

Thought is interrupted by- by a thud! Slamming of walls– he peels his face from the see-through barrier. Nothing was there but it always was and it trips him up and he wants to gnaw at it with his teeth till it explodes into guts and bits. It didn't make sense, dark magic, evil spell, Lovebug said. One day, when he was old enough, he'd be able to banish it, damn it to hellfire and things–but for now he would...walk, walk likely. With the blow of his tongue at the pane, he steps around and makes for the fence. The fence which– he could not jump. Nova did so easily, and he never helped, never. One day, he'll be able to get himself up. But– lucky! Oh, he's lucky, the ghosts gave him favor, and there, a crack. Small– small wasn't all bad, cause he could slip on through, and in he goes... portal to another world. But disappointingly, its nearly the same. Not fair. Terrible, boring. His face scrunches with a pout, and then he scans the clearing. New... something, new.

Another nest, like his, but the color is different and wrong. It– it had the same magic wall too, he bets, and this time, he won't be tricked. Intently, intensely, Valentine peers into the twoleg's nest. There were toys like his but not and he want, wants them. He scratches at the wall, mewling as he reaches out– it isn't fair. Why, why would the ghosts tell him there's new if he can't have it? But he realizes it's– it's just a trick. That's not the real one, no. Cause theres someone in there and he's odd-splotched and strange-striped and he's little like him! Stare– stares, Valentine looks in. "H-elllllo?"​

 

[BLAZESTAR]

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╮​

It's been only a few sunrises since he's come to this new place, what his mother had told him would be his home. Before this, his nest had been soft and lined with fleece, and he'd been with his brothers and sisters and Wanda, who purrs and cleans his ears and licks drops of milk from his nose and his whiskers. It'd been Wanda who'd told them, told them all, "The housefolk are nice. They give us food and their paws are soft. You will have your own housefolk soon." Her voice, as always, had been a warm purr.

He hadn't been called anything by his mother. They were all just "Darling," or "My son, my daughter." Wanda had not named them, because she said their housefolk should have that honor. Wanda has had many kits, the tiny flame point knows that. She is experienced. She knows when the housefolk come, her kits will not return to her, and she is okay with it.

They speak to him in strange tongues, in his new nest. They are tall and scary, but like Wanda had told him, their hands are wrinkled and soft against his plush coat. They touch him with gentleness, with affection, and their voices, though incomprehensible, are coos of adoration. The only word the little tomkit can discern is "Blaise," and he understands this is his name. This is what his housefolk have chosen to call him.

So, he is Blaise, but he does not see how that's all that important. What's important is that his new nest is lonely. He loves The Man, and The Woman, but he's missing the brush of his pelt against another's, paws batting at his little red-striped tail, even the teeth that would hook into a golden ear in rough play. There are no other kits here in his new home. There aren't even any big cats, Wanda-sized, here!

Blaise -- he does not think of himself this way, but this is who he is now, he knows -- is bored, and he's lonely. He misses the milk scent of his family, the low purrs of sleeping littermates. And when he peers outside of the see-through wall, he sees a little tiny shape, a kit, squeezing through their garden barrier and padding around The Woman's lawn confidently.

The tiny flame point squeezes through the glass and worms his way underneath. He's unsteady on his paws, especially feeling grass underpaw. It's soft, yet the bristles tickle the soft undersides of his feet. He giggles at the sensation, almost forgetting why he'd exited the nest.

But he's rudely interrupted, a face bullying into his with a loud inquiry: "H-ellllo?"

Blaise squeaks with surprise, drawing back instinctively. His fur fluffs up, making him look ridiculous -- like a chick-shaped Ragdoll. But he realizes this is the kitten he'd been pursuing, the little Blaise-sized cat he'd wanted to talk to. His fear melts away and he stands up, triangular golden tail pointing straight up. "H-hi! I haven't seen you here before. Do you live here, too? Are you afraid of me?" He tilts his head at the other kitten, blinking rapidly.
​

 

[DAWNGLARE]

He notices him, and he's funny, his fur ruffing up as he flinches backward. He looks like a funny little thing that he wants to bite and catch and play with! Valentine drops into a crouch, his tail high in the air as he prepares to pounce, and then– the kitten goes back to normal and he remembers... This isn't a little bird or mouse! It's little scardey cat. And he– he has the nerve to say– "What?!" he squeaks, incredulous, in an instant, he's sprung onto his feet, mouth gaped in a disbelieving look. That's the dumb-dumbest thing he's ever heard! "You should be scared of me, and you were!" He huffs.

He's mad, he's SO MAD and he's mad the kit's making it HARD for him to be mad because he looks so big and funny and dumb! "The ghosts said to me- said- you're here... and- and only I can talk to ghosts and-and they'll spill your guts if you do anything mean," he tells him with blank eyes and the hint of a pout. Suspicious, he's suspicious and silly. No one could ever be scared of him! not unless the spots on him were plague, seeping under his skin, waiting to attack and lash out with sneezes and sniffles! Horrifying, he would never recover. Never outside again, never in this neighborhood, he'd go back to live with Lovebug whether the housefolk wanted that or not.

For a moment, he glares at him, eyes flickering from his face to his tail as if his exterior were about to start oozing gross stuff, but he doesnt, and he's safe for now... he guesses. "I'm from- there!" Valentine tells him, nodding in the direction he came from. Right next door, next-door... neighbors! "I'm Va-len-tine," he tells him. Each syllable is careful, careful. It rolls off his tongue like something strange. It was hard for even him to say sometimes, but Lovebug said- it's as pretty as he is, and he believes her. Why would she lie? Only bad cats lie. "I have l-lots of toys too. Nova says I don't need that many but I think he's wrong. He's always wrong. Why- where did you?" Jumbled... talking is- is weird. "Where did you come f-from?"​