Atari Camp

[dagnyme]

I AM TIRED OF EXPLAINING THE FIRE.
IT BURNS BECAUSE IT MUST.

─┉─¡! • !¡─┉─

ASA . 48 MOONS . HE/HIM . TRAPPER
AGATHA KITTY + SILK SPINNER

Asa's slow-moving, eyes squinted against the day's light and face screwed up like he's caught a foul scent. On bright summer days like these, the sun's glare against bare stone renders him halfblind and deeply annoyed for it. He just wants the long day to inch to a close, the sunlight to soften and fade so he doesn't have to creep about like something borne of caves and forever-dark. No matter; he's grown. If sore eyes were to be the death of him then he'd've eaten it seasons ago.

The pale trapper's got a particular bend in the thick bramble wall around camp that he likes to haunt, a habit so ingrained that the barrier there's got a few of these wispy white tufts hanging off the thorns—evidence of Asa bear-scratching an itch or falling asleep leaned up against it in the past, or simply scrubbing his cheeks on it like any cat would. Asa was here.

He settles there now, face still downturned against the sunlight. There is work to be done, snares to be checked, of course. He's in no hurry to do that now, though, because now is Sitting In His Favorite Little Spot time, which is extremely important. A bath crosses his mind, but only briefly. If he's to leave at all today—and he does have his mind set on that—then he'd be rolling in another dust bath anyhow. Asa opts to leave what remains of his last dirt-jacket stuck to his fur without fuss and adjusts himself into a cozier position in the meantime.

! OPEN !

[IDIOTICBEAN101]

Mamba-They/Them
Claw


——————————


Mamba silently followed Mumble into the den with a small nod, listening as she spoke.
Mamba looked down at the pile of herbs after Mumble finished speaking.
They didn’t recognize much, just the basics.

“Where do we start?” They asked after analyzing the pile for a moment.


@finley !!

[Fits]

Vertigo
| he/him | Atari | Trapper |

Vertigo blinked, his eyelids heavy in the warm sunlight. He simply could never comprehend how his tribemates found it so easy to be so active on days like these; with his thick, dark-colored pelt, he often found himself positively boiling throughout the summer moons.

With great effort, Vertigo heaved himself to his paws. It seemed that another long day of setting traps and snares and collecting dead animals was upon him. This time of year, he found it especially difficult to motivate himself to “seize the day” and what have you. What’s even the point of going through all the effort of waking oneself up, only to spend the day doing something one doesn’t even like? Such thoughts often entered his mind at times like this. He tried to push them away, but they took root like weeds in his mind.

The end of Vertigo’s mouth twitched. He had to find something to do, something to distract himself with. Glancing about the clearing, he caught sight of his elder brother loitering about his usual haunt. Vertigo decided to go talk to him. Asa wasn’t the most talkative cat in the Atari, but that was fine. If there was one thing Vertigo could count on Asa for, it was his enthusiasm for Trapping. Sometimes, that kind of dedication was enough to motivate Vertigo, if only a little.

“G’morning,” said Vertigo as he approached Asa. “Fine weather we’re having, huh?” He attempted something like a half smile as he sat, his tail coming to curl around his front paws.

( @dagnyme )

[furrensic]

GOSHAWK
he/him . 11 moons . scarred, lanky long haired tortie with hazel eyes.
[ silver tongue, lyrebird's lullaby ]

the mountains. the crag. the camp. atari. home. oh, yes! how nice, indeed. how nice exactly? oh me, oh my, what an interesting question..yes, yes!

goshawk slithers about in the shadows of the camp, sticking to them like glue. maw drawn upwards in a gleeful, wide grin that would make one think that the initiate had just won a lifetime of prey. pale hazel eyes are peeled, scanning the clearing, inspecting each and every of his clanmates (group...mates? !!! this requires a whole new level of intelligence.) oh, boo, anyway. he's purposefully avoiding the harsh glowering of the suns rays which always makes him feel cooked, thanks to his dark pelt. although, it is quite sad and boring with nobody to talk to. nobody to jest. to entertain! question!

and so, with a sweep of his long tail against the barren camp ground, the tortoiseshell slips out of the shadows. his pawsteps are light, airy - but quick and filled with purpose. and soon enough, he's found a cat to pester. if they didn't make the choice to back away as soon as he approached (the smart choice, for their sanity), he's practically frolicking around them in circles.

"oh, my, hello hello! 's a good day, right? better than yesterday, no? this morning, maybe..-- how can you discern this morning from yesterday? they might be the same, after all, who knows. tell me, what d'you think?" nonsense. absolute nonsense.

[ open ]

[dagnyme]

I AM TIRED OF EXPLAINING THE FIRE.
IT BURNS BECAUSE IT MUST.

─┉─¡! • !¡─┉─

ASA . 48 MOONS . HE/HIM . TRAPPER
AGATHA KITTY + SILK SPINNER

Asa denounces the weather immediately with a low, almost theatrical groan. It's too bright. Too much. He doesn't elaborate, feels Vertigo doesn't need the explanation. The other tom's thick-furred and slate-colored, must have his own complaints. Asa's down to commerisate silently for a bit, leaning against the prickly wall and tilting his chin up to steal a peek at his younger brother. Even in this light, Vertigo is easy for Asa to pick out for how high contrast his markings are, but it's his tone that interests Asa more than his colors right now.

A line about the rotten weather. A voice as heavy as a mudslide, pulled weakly at the ends like Vertigo had attempted to brighten it with a halfhearted grin. Asa's ragged ears twitch. That sort of day, huh?

"Traps today," he mentions in an idle murmur. It might as well be a joke; there are traps needing to be checked (and repaired, maintained, repositioned, redug, recamouflaged, what have you) every day. The point isn't that Asa thinks Vertigo doesn't know, though, the point is that Asa's acknowledged Vertigo's particular sluggishness today with a blunt reminder: There's work to do whether you can stomach it or not.

Traps today.

He'll never make it as a motivational speaker. Fine by him, though—whatever Asa can't make clear in his hoarse whisperings he can count on getting across in other ways. He'd drag Vertigo all up and down the mountain by the scruff, if he thought it was what the his brother needed. And, speaking of needs,

"Eat yet?"

@Fits

[Fits]

Vertigo
| he/him | Atari | Trapper |

Vertigo couldn’t help but wrinkle his nose a bit at Asa’s words. Traps today. Traps yesterday, traps tomorrow. His brother simply knew him too well. Vertigo wondered how he managed to be so transparent, like self-pity was just a scent he gave off or something. He dropped the smile, as it no longer served its purpose.

Still, Vertigo couldn’t say he really objected to his brother’s simple statement. It seemed that all words of affirmation had already been exhausted, either by Vertigo himself or by others, and none had any real effect anymore, if they ever did at all. There was simply nothing left to be said on the matter. But that was enough about Vertigo.

“Nah,” said Vertigo with a yawn. “Just got up, really. You?”

He rolled his shoulders idly, eyes drifting to the edge of camp. Frankly, he didn’t really feel like eating today. The heat still felt like it was seeping into his very bones, turning his limbs to the same stone as the camp floor; he really just wanted to collapse in a pile and sleep for a moon or two. Nope, nope, nope. No more thinking about naps or shade or the heat. He had to be energetic today if he were to have any hope at keeping up with the Trappers, at being some kind of a help. His tail began to flick to and fro with agitation, and he blinked more rapidly, trying to banish the sleep from his eyes.

( @dagnyme )

[constellation]

SHADOW
// Atari // Trapper // She/Her // 17 Moons //

Shadow padded in circled around the clearing, her mind shut inside her outer shell, her eyes were on the ground and her paws were sore from a day of hunting, running, and ignoring. Her dark blue eyes were fixed on the rocky soil, and her head hurt with a headache—a usual resident of her head. shut up. she told her thoughts, as they traveled roads she didn’t want to take. Shut up. she thought at her group mates as they chattered.

she may as well go to sleep.

[burntToast]

Nyx
she/her | Claw of the Crown | Atari | 27 moons
“the darkest nights produce the brightest stars.”
|{Beefed Up (T3) || inactive}|

_________________________________________________
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Her so called “brainstorming” for what she should do today was immediately abandoned and replaced with thoughts such as, the clouds were making weird patterns or how she would like nothing more to just curl up here and take a nap. Maybe she should? Nothing was urgently calling her for assistance, not enough initiates were up for her to send a class out yet anyway. Resting her head on her paws, she let her fur soak up the sunlights rays as they slowly crept across the clearing. Her eyes, color of the sky above, instead watched as her tribemates slowly crept out of their dark and comfortable dens and emerged into the bright daylight of the clearing.

She spotted an initiate or two wandering around, she debated calling them over but they were both striking up their own conversations. Good, if all initiates could be independent enough to look for their own training then she had no need to worry for them. She spotted a familiar shecat exiting the healers den. Sadly not the interesting one, who had a weird obsession with blood like his name sake but the other. She was interesting in her own right, a pretty flower healer. Mumble stopped to talk to another cat, mamba right? Yeah that was mamba, guess she would have to annoy the healer some other day. Soon enough the clearing was starting to bustle as more of her dear Atarifam rose from the caves to greet the day. She liked it this way, it was nice hearing all the chatter, seeing so many cats. Loneliness was usually forgotten here.

Oh boo, no one had approached her. She guessed as much, no one wanted to talk to the claw of crown unless it was training related. Nyx let out a huff of boredom, raising her head from her paws and preparing herself to abandon the warm spot in search for an intriguing interaction with one of these not at all social felines. Though she abandoned that idea and sat down instead. Nyx stayed in her spot the moment she saw her. Camilla was up and as stunning as ever. The pretty she cat was heading for the exit of the camp, without saying good morning to her? Unacceptable, Nyx was tempted to call to her friend. Maybe Camilla just hadn't seen her. Much to her joy, the trapper stopped and started making her way towards her.

"Good morning dear goddess of the mountain, what an honour it is for you to bless me with you wonderous beauty this fine morning!" she purred, her tone teasing as she greeted the trapper with a light flick of her tail. She hummed at the question thrown her way, rest wasn't easy now that she had a more important role in the Atari. She felt more inclined to protect them and spent most her night on guard watching over the camp. So how was her rest? Not good. "I rested well, wind kept blowing against the entrance of my den the whole night which wasn't pleasant." she lied. It was partially true, ever since she got the cotc den ,which was higher then rest of the regular dens, she had to deal with constant winds. She liked it, it was soothing to her and the view was great! Just a bit cold but it was fine.


Tags:
- Camilla ( @Morrigan )

[taillow]

[ HELLO! PLEASE READ THIS SMALL ANNOUNCEMENT AS FAR AS ALLEGIANCES / ATARI MEMBERS GO ]

[Shade.]

Originally Posted by furrensic

GOSHAWK
he/him . 11 moons . scarred, lanky long haired tortie with hazel eyes.
[ silver tongue, lyrebird's lullaby ]

the mountains. the crag. the camp. atari. home. oh, yes! how nice, indeed. how nice exactly? oh me, oh my, what an interesting question..yes, yes!

goshawk slithers about in the shadows of the camp, sticking to them like glue. maw drawn upwards in a gleeful, wide grin that would make one think that the initiate had just won a lifetime of prey. pale hazel eyes are peeled, scanning the clearing, inspecting each and every of his clanmates (group...mates? !!! this requires a whole new level of intelligence.) oh, boo, anyway. he's purposefully avoiding the harsh glowering of the suns rays which always makes him feel cooked, thanks to his dark pelt. although, it is quite sad and boring with nobody to talk to. nobody to jest. to entertain! question!

and so, with a sweep of his long tail against the barren camp ground, the tortoiseshell slips out of the shadows. his pawsteps are light, airy - but quick and filled with purpose. and soon enough, he's found a cat to pester. if they didn't make the choice to back away as soon as he approached (the smart choice, for their sanity), he's practically frolicking around them in circles.

"oh, my, hello hello! 's a good day, right? better than yesterday, no? this morning, maybe..-- how can you discern this morning from yesterday? they might be the same, after all, who knows. tell me, what d'you think?" nonsense. absolute nonsense.

[ open ]

Chisei had been sitting with their eyes closed and listening to the wind. Windy weather was their favourite and sometimes it almost sounded melodious. They wondered if it was secretly words, despite themself.

What was definitely words, though not ones that necessarily made sense, was what was spewing out of Goshawk's mouth right now. Chisei cracked open one eye and lazily hollowed the odd circles he made. They were used to his nonesense at this point.

"Yesterday morning it rained, I'm pretty sure." they replied calmly, flicking their ears in suppressed amusement.