- Aug 31, 2024
- 62
- 26
- 18
OOC. CW : Brief gore and self-cannibalism mention, bullying, child abuse and maternal death implied via PTSD flashbacks, derealization-depersonalization, dissociation, and mild self harm with minor bleeding. Please read with great cautious and do not post until @Blackwater does, thank you! Also, this thread is set a few days after the Clan name brainstorming, but feel free to still have your character bring up a prefix name / comment to Diable as I'd love to try to add more details here based on what resonate with her during that time! ♡
Greenleaf falls into a cooler time and the sky is as bright as ever. Mutters about an upcoming meeting remain steady since the tender morning. The excited delight that Diable has been holding close to partake in a beautiful monthly tradition right within the heart of a Clan, not once does it flicker, but it burns more greater in each breath taken, instead. This raw feeling of being alive, she can almost taste it in its saltwater and sweet heat. Until this special time will come, she intends to chase the wonder that she so rarely experiences. Giggles ring high and the river paths near sing along, the sounds of freedom escaping freely behind a brilliant smile that Diable bears while she quickly some RiverClanners. Unafraid, she only runs with the breezes and water trails, laughing—
Something firm slams Diable, her frail body crashing against the ground on the ached side.
Everything in her freezes.
Three kits stand before her, their shadows combined overpowering her pathetic own. From the angle where she lays, they seem terribly big and tall. Her tongue burns with an apology already prepared to give, an instinct bred from an old fear, but the middle cuts her off, "Why are you still here? You're not a RiverClanner." He wipes his chest, his expression twisted as if he was touched by something unsettling and disgusting, a disease. The audacious sight breaks Diable's breathing pattern, falling shorter and heavier. Their laughters pierce into flaten ears and devour the memory of her recent giggles. The left kit takes a prideful stance before he skips closer to Diable and smacks her head. She doesn't flinch, her eyes wide on the sneering trio. The right kit just squeals.
"You need to leaaaveee! You don't belong here!" says the one who touched Diable, his face close to hers with breath of recent ate fish rotten between them from his larger menacing frame. The world starts to shake, but the kits aren't afraid. Diable can't move her paws and realizes it's her body that trembles, this weak thing is begging in a language of horror for anyone to hold her. Front shaky paws curl together, pressed against heaving chest. She thinks they are hers, but she doesn't sense like so. Everything feels famillar, yet, not all at once. Diable hears more laughters, loud, louder; a cruel chorus forms— I see her at the side of a tight space, the three small kits sneering and smacking at her everywhere. 'Momma, please,' she thinks as a thousandth plea.
'Momma, come back, I'M SO SORRY, MOMMA—!'
Though the thin gaps of swift moving bodies, three high pitched laughters co-existing as inharmonious, I see her stare at the hole over on the side in a specific strange shape. The sky is still blue and the world still moves freely. We're both trapped. She wants to go home. I want to go back home but I don't know where it is anymore. I think it have always been dead— with Momma— "You don't belong to this family!" snickers the second eldest kit, shaking his head out of disappointment with vicious ease. "I can't believe you carry our blood while being weak," agrees the thirth born and then he spits at her face like it can remove their familial blood inside her. "You're nothing." They echo each other until once more, the sun dies, ourselves still abandoned:
YOU'RE NOTHING, YOU'RE NOTHING, YOU'RE—
"—a loner who will NEVER be able to become a Clan warrior!" The middle youth continues, his words an unending brutal wave against her who starts to cough. The air expulsion tears her while it forces her to return in the open space with a chest full of statics that seem to consume bit by bigger from the inside. There is no true rhythm or reason to their despises of her. They only wish from the marsh to the sky for her to be gone, as far away from RiverClan as possible. She wants to go home too, but it had died in the thunderstorm with her adoptive father— She misses him so much— "I—" She wheezes, coughing more, and shakes her head. She can't let these kits be like them to her— SHE CAN NOT GO THROUGH THIS AGAIN—
Everything blurs from the building hot stings across her visions.
"I, what? Anyways, what is your name?" bluntly questions the left kit.
"Diable? Or was it— Diaeweee!" cackles the right.
Two others join onto their continuous twisted mirth and soon, she whispers,
"N- no."
The world freezes in a piercing cold second.
Despite everything, even as she keeps crying and coughing, with a great effort to finally stand on her wobbly paws, she lifts her head. "Dia... Diable is gone." What is her name? What is it— Spottedkit, Dawnkit, Lovekit, Sparklekit, Goldkit— "Mistybird always says that, um... well, she says that what you're named can shape your destiny," said Shellpaw, a delicate wise share on the end of greenleaf and the new beginning of rebirth. Destiny have done nothing but name her the unworthy weakest, make her existence mean nothing even as she stands and breathes with the every other creatures and flowers. More tears roll over her cheeks, yet, she still tries to stand, and is it not enough to remind fate that she can be as alive and real and loved too?
"I'm Blackkit."
The trio exchanges each other strange looks before the left opens his mouth, but she cuts his mockery faster. Her gritted teeth bares, sun bitten and everything around them falters. The wind picks a howl ahead. "Black- Blackwater saved me. There'd be many others who could've left me to d- d- die." 'And I wouldn't ever be able to find the Everblue.' A memory furiously flickers: A gold Maine Coon feline keeps sitting still, unfazed by the devastated kit who keeps shaking her head, screeching, "You saved me and you don't even know me?! Why? WHY?!" Full of dried leftovers that he had given all to her while they're trapped in little light, a sickening realization falls upon her with endless horror that he had only ate his own flesh for them to survive together—
She ducks her head, seeing her unsheathed claws pierced into dirt. He, a thief murderer, didn't have let her survive in that darkness with him at all, but he did anyway. Even as a stranger, he cared about her enough. A sniffle falls and she imagines the Maine Coon using his red stained claws into his own sk— "Blackwater told me that he deserved lit- little regard for it, but what he did for me, it- it—" a weak choked sound escapes her at the recent reminiscence, Blackwater's paw violently pulling away from her gifted rocks as if he was NOTHING to deserve earning such a great generosity. "—It still meant EVERYTHING to me, and fff- for that and every other kind things that this Clan have been gi- giving to me,"
With everything in her, she tries to bow before the three now alarmed and baffled kits, while her chest reaches close to land, for she is not lowering herself beneath her hateful peers, but rather she makes the choice to have her entire heart, mind, and soul meet the land that was claimed by the wild sapphire crafted Clan. Her forehead presses firm against the rough surface and pain flares across it. Few rocks dig through soft skin to splitting flesh; this part of the world becomes deep soaked by her spilled tears and saliva and blood— she becomes intertwined with RiverClan— She won't make anyone thrive ruthlessly against her existence like that terrible three did in her darkest past. Every part of her burns and she exists most brightly despite it all.
"I WANT TO STAY IN RIVERCLAN AND SERVE TO IT FOR AS LONG AS POSSIBLE! I SWEAR WITH ALL MY HEART, I WILL TRY TO DO EVERYTHING THAT IT'LL TAKE FOR RIVERCLAN TO THRIVE BEST! I WANT TO BE A PART OF RIVERCLAN AS BLACKKIT, A FUTURE GREAT WARRIOR WHO CAN BRING THE MOST OF WARMTH AND INSPIRATION AND LOVE TO HERE!"
Heaving after a single blow against time and nature in her sharp determination, she lacks care of how much attention she's bringing into the corner of the RiverClan's camp. She wants the world to know her destiny evolves now. "I'm Blackkit since I have - I have black spots and paws, I'm Blackkit because of Blackwater who in- inspires me to be a grand RiverClan warrior, I'm Blackkit when I lived as being nothing in the dark for too long and I want to re- reclaim it all as a new greater part of me!" She doesn't mention a fact that she have seen Death many times, always in the flickering void. But Blackkit is still here, only ever trying to be good. She wants to believe that she is not nothing from the beginning to the end.
She is loving and loved all at kindest once.
Still tears bearing, the RiverClanner of sunfire lifts her head and weakly grins at the three kits who look as they want to run away from her in struck out awe, "You better - YOU BETTER REMEMBER ME AND MY NAME NOW!"
◜♡◞
Greenleaf falls into a cooler time and the sky is as bright as ever. Mutters about an upcoming meeting remain steady since the tender morning. The excited delight that Diable has been holding close to partake in a beautiful monthly tradition right within the heart of a Clan, not once does it flicker, but it burns more greater in each breath taken, instead. This raw feeling of being alive, she can almost taste it in its saltwater and sweet heat. Until this special time will come, she intends to chase the wonder that she so rarely experiences. Giggles ring high and the river paths near sing along, the sounds of freedom escaping freely behind a brilliant smile that Diable bears while she quickly some RiverClanners. Unafraid, she only runs with the breezes and water trails, laughing—
Something firm slams Diable, her frail body crashing against the ground on the ached side.
Everything in her freezes.
Three kits stand before her, their shadows combined overpowering her pathetic own. From the angle where she lays, they seem terribly big and tall. Her tongue burns with an apology already prepared to give, an instinct bred from an old fear, but the middle cuts her off, "Why are you still here? You're not a RiverClanner." He wipes his chest, his expression twisted as if he was touched by something unsettling and disgusting, a disease. The audacious sight breaks Diable's breathing pattern, falling shorter and heavier. Their laughters pierce into flaten ears and devour the memory of her recent giggles. The left kit takes a prideful stance before he skips closer to Diable and smacks her head. She doesn't flinch, her eyes wide on the sneering trio. The right kit just squeals.
"You need to leaaaveee! You don't belong here!" says the one who touched Diable, his face close to hers with breath of recent ate fish rotten between them from his larger menacing frame. The world starts to shake, but the kits aren't afraid. Diable can't move her paws and realizes it's her body that trembles, this weak thing is begging in a language of horror for anyone to hold her. Front shaky paws curl together, pressed against heaving chest. She thinks they are hers, but she doesn't sense like so. Everything feels famillar, yet, not all at once. Diable hears more laughters, loud, louder; a cruel chorus forms— I see her at the side of a tight space, the three small kits sneering and smacking at her everywhere. 'Momma, please,' she thinks as a thousandth plea.
'Momma, come back, I'M SO SORRY, MOMMA—!'
Though the thin gaps of swift moving bodies, three high pitched laughters co-existing as inharmonious, I see her stare at the hole over on the side in a specific strange shape. The sky is still blue and the world still moves freely. We're both trapped. She wants to go home. I want to go back home but I don't know where it is anymore. I think it have always been dead— with Momma— "You don't belong to this family!" snickers the second eldest kit, shaking his head out of disappointment with vicious ease. "I can't believe you carry our blood while being weak," agrees the thirth born and then he spits at her face like it can remove their familial blood inside her. "You're nothing." They echo each other until once more, the sun dies, ourselves still abandoned:
YOU'RE NOTHING, YOU'RE NOTHING, YOU'RE—
"—a loner who will NEVER be able to become a Clan warrior!" The middle youth continues, his words an unending brutal wave against her who starts to cough. The air expulsion tears her while it forces her to return in the open space with a chest full of statics that seem to consume bit by bigger from the inside. There is no true rhythm or reason to their despises of her. They only wish from the marsh to the sky for her to be gone, as far away from RiverClan as possible. She wants to go home too, but it had died in the thunderstorm with her adoptive father— She misses him so much— "I—" She wheezes, coughing more, and shakes her head. She can't let these kits be like them to her— SHE CAN NOT GO THROUGH THIS AGAIN—
Everything blurs from the building hot stings across her visions.
"I, what? Anyways, what is your name?" bluntly questions the left kit.
"Diable? Or was it— Diaeweee!" cackles the right.
Two others join onto their continuous twisted mirth and soon, she whispers,
"N- no."
The world freezes in a piercing cold second.
Despite everything, even as she keeps crying and coughing, with a great effort to finally stand on her wobbly paws, she lifts her head. "Dia... Diable is gone." What is her name? What is it— Spottedkit, Dawnkit, Lovekit, Sparklekit, Goldkit— "Mistybird always says that, um... well, she says that what you're named can shape your destiny," said Shellpaw, a delicate wise share on the end of greenleaf and the new beginning of rebirth. Destiny have done nothing but name her the unworthy weakest, make her existence mean nothing even as she stands and breathes with the every other creatures and flowers. More tears roll over her cheeks, yet, she still tries to stand, and is it not enough to remind fate that she can be as alive and real and loved too?
"I'm Blackkit."
The trio exchanges each other strange looks before the left opens his mouth, but she cuts his mockery faster. Her gritted teeth bares, sun bitten and everything around them falters. The wind picks a howl ahead. "Black- Blackwater saved me. There'd be many others who could've left me to d- d- die." 'And I wouldn't ever be able to find the Everblue.' A memory furiously flickers: A gold Maine Coon feline keeps sitting still, unfazed by the devastated kit who keeps shaking her head, screeching, "You saved me and you don't even know me?! Why? WHY?!" Full of dried leftovers that he had given all to her while they're trapped in little light, a sickening realization falls upon her with endless horror that he had only ate his own flesh for them to survive together—
She ducks her head, seeing her unsheathed claws pierced into dirt. He, a thief murderer, didn't have let her survive in that darkness with him at all, but he did anyway. Even as a stranger, he cared about her enough. A sniffle falls and she imagines the Maine Coon using his red stained claws into his own sk— "Blackwater told me that he deserved lit- little regard for it, but what he did for me, it- it—" a weak choked sound escapes her at the recent reminiscence, Blackwater's paw violently pulling away from her gifted rocks as if he was NOTHING to deserve earning such a great generosity. "—It still meant EVERYTHING to me, and fff- for that and every other kind things that this Clan have been gi- giving to me,"
With everything in her, she tries to bow before the three now alarmed and baffled kits, while her chest reaches close to land, for she is not lowering herself beneath her hateful peers, but rather she makes the choice to have her entire heart, mind, and soul meet the land that was claimed by the wild sapphire crafted Clan. Her forehead presses firm against the rough surface and pain flares across it. Few rocks dig through soft skin to splitting flesh; this part of the world becomes deep soaked by her spilled tears and saliva and blood— she becomes intertwined with RiverClan— She won't make anyone thrive ruthlessly against her existence like that terrible three did in her darkest past. Every part of her burns and she exists most brightly despite it all.
"I WANT TO STAY IN RIVERCLAN AND SERVE TO IT FOR AS LONG AS POSSIBLE! I SWEAR WITH ALL MY HEART, I WILL TRY TO DO EVERYTHING THAT IT'LL TAKE FOR RIVERCLAN TO THRIVE BEST! I WANT TO BE A PART OF RIVERCLAN AS BLACKKIT, A FUTURE GREAT WARRIOR WHO CAN BRING THE MOST OF WARMTH AND INSPIRATION AND LOVE TO HERE!"
Heaving after a single blow against time and nature in her sharp determination, she lacks care of how much attention she's bringing into the corner of the RiverClan's camp. She wants the world to know her destiny evolves now. "I'm Blackkit since I have - I have black spots and paws, I'm Blackkit because of Blackwater who in- inspires me to be a grand RiverClan warrior, I'm Blackkit when I lived as being nothing in the dark for too long and I want to re- reclaim it all as a new greater part of me!" She doesn't mention a fact that she have seen Death many times, always in the flickering void. But Blackkit is still here, only ever trying to be good. She wants to believe that she is not nothing from the beginning to the end.
She is loving and loved all at kindest once.
Still tears bearing, the RiverClanner of sunfire lifts her head and weakly grins at the three kits who look as they want to run away from her in struck out awe, "You better - YOU BETTER REMEMBER ME AND MY NAME NOW!"
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