- Oct 22, 2022
- 714
- 261
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// there are themes of dissociation/depersonalisation in this thread
Smogmaw regards himself as an analytical person. Methodical, logical, and coherent. At the end of the day, he simply wishes to gratify his own desires and fulfil his own needs, and doing so within the margin of the clans' restrictive way of life is not a be-all or an end-all, but rather something of his own volition.
To him, the intricate complexities of clan affairs feel straightforward and easy to use to his own advantage. This applies to both domestic dealings and external politics. The systems put in place by the groups' founders and then later developed by succeeding leaders are built upon flawed traditional values, and they fall apart at the seams when observed from a broader perspective.
Understanding the rights from the wrongs, which behaviours are celebrated and which ones are condemned, is pivotal when deciding his personal conduct. One cat's taboo is another cat's virtue. For instance, cats of adult age are barred from aligning themselves with ShadowClan, although other clans like Thunderclan maintain open borders - even to kittypets. Knowing this, he wouldn't welcome an unfamiliar face into the clan under any circumstance, lest it is a kit. And he knows that in doing so, along with other behaviours deemed morally righteous by his community, he earns the favour of his clanmates.
And having the backing of a collective body is the greatest power one can ask for in this setting. The weight of the world does not fall on his shoulders alone, but is rather spread evenly amongst his compatriots, friends, and figurative family. There are individuals who would put their lives on the line to guarantee his safety. So too does he attain security from resting in a den at night, deep a difficult-to-traverse region of land. Being able to sleep without a looming fear of death is a major benefit that he has because of his tenure in ShadowClan.
As there are so many positive qualities of his current living arrangement, Smogmaw refrains from outright transgressing his clan's laws and code of ethics; he sees no problem in doing so discreetly, however, so long as he is fully confident in his ability to keep such actions out of sight. It is a well-known fact that the tabby has a compulsion to collect things - a quirk in his physiological coding, perhaps - although there are quite a few objects in his concealed 'goodie stash' he isn't supposed to have; namely foodstuffs not being dispersed among his clanmates, as well as personal items that belonged to someone else at one point.
All in all, everything is going in a way which quenches Smogmaw's demands, desires, and innate proclivities.
And yet, he is deeply displeased, discontented, and dissatisfied.
Having sat back and observed the day-to-day's usual procedures time and time again, he has reached a point where he can predict a week's events down to a tee. Every passing day feels the same, resembling constant revolutions of identical events and happenings as opposed to new experiences. It leaves him emotionally transparent, and he feels his individual wants and longings decaying away as time moves forward. No longer is he guided by ambition, but unmanageable compulsions instead.
On some days, he is lucid, in full control of his emotions and holds an idea of the trajectory he wishes to pursue. Other days, he finds himself temperamental and antisocial, and sometimes it felt as though he wasn't really there.
He isn't really there. Not now, wallowing in rib-high muck and gawping blankly at the sun-down sky. It is unknown to him how long he has been missing from camp, or whether or not his clanmates have taken notice of his absence, but if his inability to move free from the mud is anything to go by, then it's safe to say he has been stuck for quite a bit.
Smogmaw regards himself as an analytical person. Methodical, logical, and coherent. At the end of the day, he simply wishes to gratify his own desires and fulfil his own needs, and doing so within the margin of the clans' restrictive way of life is not a be-all or an end-all, but rather something of his own volition.
To him, the intricate complexities of clan affairs feel straightforward and easy to use to his own advantage. This applies to both domestic dealings and external politics. The systems put in place by the groups' founders and then later developed by succeeding leaders are built upon flawed traditional values, and they fall apart at the seams when observed from a broader perspective.
Understanding the rights from the wrongs, which behaviours are celebrated and which ones are condemned, is pivotal when deciding his personal conduct. One cat's taboo is another cat's virtue. For instance, cats of adult age are barred from aligning themselves with ShadowClan, although other clans like Thunderclan maintain open borders - even to kittypets. Knowing this, he wouldn't welcome an unfamiliar face into the clan under any circumstance, lest it is a kit. And he knows that in doing so, along with other behaviours deemed morally righteous by his community, he earns the favour of his clanmates.
And having the backing of a collective body is the greatest power one can ask for in this setting. The weight of the world does not fall on his shoulders alone, but is rather spread evenly amongst his compatriots, friends, and figurative family. There are individuals who would put their lives on the line to guarantee his safety. So too does he attain security from resting in a den at night, deep a difficult-to-traverse region of land. Being able to sleep without a looming fear of death is a major benefit that he has because of his tenure in ShadowClan.
As there are so many positive qualities of his current living arrangement, Smogmaw refrains from outright transgressing his clan's laws and code of ethics; he sees no problem in doing so discreetly, however, so long as he is fully confident in his ability to keep such actions out of sight. It is a well-known fact that the tabby has a compulsion to collect things - a quirk in his physiological coding, perhaps - although there are quite a few objects in his concealed 'goodie stash' he isn't supposed to have; namely foodstuffs not being dispersed among his clanmates, as well as personal items that belonged to someone else at one point.
All in all, everything is going in a way which quenches Smogmaw's demands, desires, and innate proclivities.
And yet, he is deeply displeased, discontented, and dissatisfied.
Having sat back and observed the day-to-day's usual procedures time and time again, he has reached a point where he can predict a week's events down to a tee. Every passing day feels the same, resembling constant revolutions of identical events and happenings as opposed to new experiences. It leaves him emotionally transparent, and he feels his individual wants and longings decaying away as time moves forward. No longer is he guided by ambition, but unmanageable compulsions instead.
On some days, he is lucid, in full control of his emotions and holds an idea of the trajectory he wishes to pursue. Other days, he finds himself temperamental and antisocial, and sometimes it felt as though he wasn't really there.
He isn't really there. Not now, wallowing in rib-high muck and gawping blankly at the sun-down sky. It is unknown to him how long he has been missing from camp, or whether or not his clanmates have taken notice of his absence, but if his inability to move free from the mud is anything to go by, then it's safe to say he has been stuck for quite a bit.
