camp the literal blues || kittypet dye job

[teaselpaw.]

when benzodiazepinepaw arrives in camp each morning, she prides herself on her preparedness. though just a daylight apprentice, she starts the day ready for training and she hopes that shows. she thinks her npc mentor is impressed with this: her punctuality, her care. she wonders if skyclan's leaders are impressed with this. if they think to themselves, that is a good one. she deserves to be here.

well, today isn't like that. today benzodiazepinepaw shuffles into camp much later than usual, with her eyes fixed firmly on the ground.

today benzodiazepinepaw is blue.

she isn't blue like silversmoke or ashenclaw. benzodiazepinepaw is neon blue, bluer than her eyes, not a trace of her natural snow-white beneath the pigment. she doesn't know the word for what her twoleg did, only its consequence: she is absolutely completely and totally bright blue, color that won't come off no matter how much she grooms. she's starting to wonder if it's worth trying a dunk in the river.

"um ... good morning," she says, cheeks burning, trying very very hard to act natural. "how ... how are you all doing today?"

maybe they'll just roll with it? ​

 

[sparrowsong!]

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It seemed like there was always something odd going on in SkyClan, one way or another, but maybe... this took the catch. Sparrowpaw had been sharing a squirrel with another apprentice when the flash of bright color caught their eye, glancing up and then back down before it really hit them what they just saw.

The tabby's head shot up again, mouth partially agape as they gawked at the cat that now stood in the clearing, nervously offering a greeting. Who was- that voice belonged to... oh!

Quickly swallowing their mouthful before they choked, Sparrowpaw clambered to their paws and hurried over. The scent that clung to her pelt was strange, but it was undoubtedly Benzy. "What- what happened to your fur? Are you okay?" ​

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[SLATE]

❪ TAGS ❫ — A vibrant sight like this was quite hard to ignore. There was no beating around the bush, no trying to hide anything or acting like it wasn't there. The discolored pelt was an eyesore, to be honest.

The forest-born cats may be confused by this apprentice's appearance, but Slate isn't surprised in the slightest. Twolegs knew how to make colors out of seemingly thin air and apply them to walls, to the monsters, and even themselves. Now, it was clear that the unnatural colors could be applied to cats as well. "Twolegs. That's what happened." Slate snorted in response to Sparrowpaw's inquiry.

The muscular figure looks down upon Benzodiazepinepaw, a judgmental scowl etched onto his maw. That was what happened when cats decided to stick around twolegs; they had nobody to blame but themselves. "Y'look ridiculous. Did you try washin' it off?" Slate grunted.​

 

[YUKIO]

.don't rush something you —————————

————————— want to last forever.

▵ ———————— ◮ ———————— ▵

YUKIO PERKED UP AT THE SOUND, EARS TWITCHING WITH A SNIFFLED giggle at the sight of the apprentice’s neon-colored fur. Oh dear—He let out a chirp in greetings, having been lazing about near the nursery, grooming long, cream-ticked fur.

At Sparrowpaw’s concern, Yukio’s maw opened, only to snap shut at Slate’s response. He grinned, bobbing his head in agreement. “I think she looks pretty!” He trilled. “Heavens. I don’t think that’ll wash out. ” He peered at the fur with a curious hum. “Twolegs sure are funny.” Of course, Yukio had never been subjected to something as coloring one’s fur, but he’d seen it a few times. Bizarre but oddly pretty to look at! He’d always liked looking at the colors that adored the majority of his old twolegs house. Always something new to stare at!

Peering at the neon-colored fur, Yukio shuffled in thought. I wonder … “Water?” He offered, expression sheepish.

thoughts speech​

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[MOURKA]

Mourka doesn't really understand what the hubbub is, at first. He has trouble with colors—but he has trouble with colors a bit less than he has trouble with other things, so as he stretches his head forward and squints vaguely in Benzodiazepinepaw's direction, he's able to discern that something's amiss. "You're...blue?" he ekes out quietly, hesitant as if waiting to be corrected. When no one bites the bullet, he leans back and flicks an ear.

There's a couple of nay-sayers, but Yukio seems supportive in an in-denial sort of way. Adding to the brunt of it, Mourka smiles. "Hey, it's kinda neat! I mean, it makes y'easier to spot." A negative in every sense other than that now Mourka can more easily see her, given that he cannot see much of anything, usually. Now that he's focused on the shifting blue smear centered around the dull browns and grays and yellows of camp, he's actually quite amused by how discernible Benzy's pelt is. Nowhere near as electric-neon as everyone else sees her, but bright nonetheless.​

 

[GREENEYES]

It's the vibrant blue in the corner of his eye that causes Greeneyes to look up from his meal, and oh how he's glad he did.

Benzodiazepinepaw - that daylight apprentice with the oddly long name; why hadn't she bothered to change it, when she'd gained a clan name? - stands at the entrance of camp with a lowered gaze, fur no longer white as snow, rather blue like the sky. Bluer, even. Brighter in vibrancy than his own, usually bright gaze.

And while the color is pretty, it's sure a strange thing to see, a blue cat. Is this what twolegs do in their free time, color their cats? Why hasn't any other daylight warrior really shown up like this?

"You look like a bluebird, Benzo --" he hums, gaze lifting to look at the branches above. Brighter than a bluebird, too, he supposes - or at least, brighter than the blue the feather against his tail carries. Still, maybe the apprentice could camouflage within the branches and trick the real bluebirds into thinking she's one of them. Would that make for an easy catch or two? Greeneyes looks back at the bright-furred apprentice, a small smile placed on his face.

"I think we should call you Bluepaw instead. That way, when you earn your warrior name, you can be Bluefur."
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[SILVERSMOKE]

The shenanigans the half-kittypets brought with them were often irksome but ultimately harmless, save for Snorlax's greed and Momo's avarice. Tired eyes settled on the neon blue apprentice before him, his blinks incredulous and ever fleeting the more his clanmates took note of the oddly coloured creature. He stared long and hard, contemplating what was before him, before his ears suddenly fell to the sides of his head and he recoiled like struck by a stray claw. First, she had a name he couldn't pronounce. Then, she had a coat colour he couldn't comprehend. Both were the fault of Twolegs, why they had subject such a young cat to the abject terror, he would never understand. If she didn't leave after such treatment, then he was sure that there was more wrong with her than just her fur. The tips of his tufted ears twitched as others offered their comments, some teasing, others complimentary. A side-eyed glance was offered to Slate at the shared opinion: Benzo looked dreadful. Anyone would be able to see her coming, she was like a warm glow at night, if said glow was a fire raging through the pines. Perhaps their enemies would laugh themselves to death.

"Sometimes I'm not sure if this is a clan or a gaggle of morons." He muttered under his breath, exasperated. "Why are you blue?" The male enquired, looking ready to pop a blood vessel if she only said 'twolegs'.
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[✧ Sootspritespark.]

I KNOW EXACTLY WHAT I WANT AND WHO I WANNA BE
sootsprite | 35 months | demi-girl | she/they | physically medium | mentally hard | attack in bold #ffff99

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Not far behind in her own return to camp, sootsprite is greeted by the pleasant sight of a bright blue feline - and boy is it funny. A not so quite snort of laughter leaves her lips, yellow eyes gleaming as she gives a sparkling grin. "I think it rather suits you - though really, I wonder sometimes what goes through twolegs minds to do things like this to us," she commiserates - rather genuinely, for once. She still remembers when the twoleg kit used to force her into strange pelts and parade her about - though her inky black fur itself had never been subjected to such humiliation as being dyed another color.

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