[P] the world's darkest paint

[gayvinegar]

☆*:.｡..｡.:*☆

☆*: .｡. o Vantablack o .｡.:*☆

☆*: .｡. o The Wrathful, The Silent, The Wordsmith o .｡.:*☆

❧ Outsider
❧ Lyrebird's Lullaby, Dreamwalker
❧ [ #vantablack ]


the wordsmith was in his usual run-down shed, a nest carefully crafted from cloth scraps among a higher shelf. rising from said nest, vanta shook himself, getting dust out of his fur. after a moment of grooming himself so he'd look pristine, he bunched his legs up, nimbly jumping down from his perch.

pushing out through a hole in the planks of wood, his attention was caught at an unfamiliar scent. one so close to his home. his humble abode. who has the audacity to trample upon my grounds. similar bitter thoughts swarmed his mind.

"who's there?"

- @Rose [you said you had an outsider for him to int with ]

[Rose]

UNNAMED
They/Them

They didn’t think they’d ever get used to it. Not until it left completely. Not until it became a distant memory. Forgotten, faded with time. The constant exhaustion. The gnawing hunger. The ache in every bone of their body. One day, they swore, they’d be okay again. One day, they swore, they’d be rejuvenated. Truth was, that was long missing. It had been a long time since they’d been okay.

That didn’t mean anything would stop them. Their life had not been a lie, no. It was the largest truth of all, the toughest to face. They’d continue to push, to work hard. To not outrun their past, but to embrace it. It would happen. They swore it. Even if it killed them. They weren’t sure who they were exactly right now, not entirely. But they knew they’d not have to wait too long.

Dirtied paws dragged against the ground as the lanky excuse of a cat worked their muscles, forcing them to function beyond capacity. Their limbs burned with the effort. Every sudden movement, every lurching step had their vision swimming. Swimming… blacking out for a couple heartbeats before clearing. Anemic. Blood loss had done it. They were weak. And starved. Thinned. Scabs still healing over.

So when a voice rang out, an unfamiliar voice, they still. They wait to be approached instead of the other way around, trying to keep upright, fighting against the burning pain shooting up their spine just from standing. Their body is riddled with scars. Fresh and old. They are silent. Speechless. Wordless. All they do is fix the black and white tom with an unblinking, deadpan look, before inclining their head towards themself in answer to his question.

They are here, but they mean no harm. On the contrary, they are the one currently harmed.

[ @gayvinegar - Vanta | Look, an outsider creation just for you, heh. Naming time? : D check your Discord DMs for context ]

[gayvinegar]

☆*:.｡..｡.:*☆

☆*: .｡. o Vanta o .｡.:*☆

☆*: .｡. o The Wrathful, The Silent, The Wordsmith  o .｡.:*☆
❧ Outsider
❧ Lyrebird's Lullaby, Dreamwalker
❧ [ #vantablack ]
Ashes on your tongue
I'm the black smoke in your lungs
So give up and get down
And get your eyes off my crown

the silent's nose twitched as he ​padded further toward the intruder, until the scent twisted with an air of sicklyness, a hint of blood carried with it.

whoever was injured, he wouldnt just sit around and let them die, as prickly as he is.

"stars above." he muttered as he came across the cat. how in the world were they still functioning? he could see their ribs, their face sunken in. their eyes dull. "yer damn lucky t' be alive..." what could he do to help them? food? he didnt know a thing about healing so, hunting it is. "stay... stay 'ere. i'll go get ya' somethin' t' eat."

Vanta rolled a 1! (but his rper would weep if he didnt catch anything) Vanta rolled a 17!

creeping away from... the cat, he quietly stalked around the forest, ears pricked for slight sounds that could possibly be prey until... there! a corvid that landed closeby. its dark wings patched with yellow and red. quiet pawstep after pawstep, he waited, he... probably didnt have the time to wait, but better to be patient to secure his catch.

waiting until the bird left an opening, he lept, a few feathers being scattered, but he managed to break its neck before it released a warning call.

and so he returned to the cat, corvid in his jaw as he placed it in front of them.

"d'ya 'ave a name?"

- @Rose

[Rose]

UNNAMED
They/Them

Dispassionate eyes lift to meet the stranger's as they're addressed. Lucky. Lucky to be alive. They'd heard that many times before. The same phrase, repeated to them, over and over, by themself and by others. Pointed ears flick. A swish of their plumed tail as the stranger tells them to stay.

Stay.

An odd word. They'd never managed to stay anywhere, not for too extended a time. One place, they had. Now look at it. Gone. Left behind. By choice or by circumstance? They were not sure where to pin the blame just yet. The stranger had told them to stay, but they moved anyway, nose touching against the wooden slats of the abandoned shed to scent it. Smelled rotten. Or perhaps that was just their nose, considering they were all but bathed in blood.

They'd live. They did not die that easy.

A blank stare, directed down at the corvid set at their paws. Ah. What was this? A peace offering? They knew how to hunt. They could do it on their own. But their prickly exterior seemed to abate for a moment as they settled down to sniff at the fresh kill inquiringly. The black and white cat had requested their name. Their haunted gaze lifts to eye the other outsider, head tilted to the side in consideration. Names.

What was their name?

A long silence passes. A heartbeat. Another. They sniff the prey offered to them again, gauging the stranger's reaction. Then they shrug, shaking their head at the question, in the same movement bending to take a bite of the dead corvid. They'd not say no to a gift, of course.

[ @gayvinegar - Vanta ]

[gayvinegar]

☆*:.｡..｡.:*☆

☆*: .｡. o Vanta o .｡.:*☆

☆*: .｡. o The Wrathful, The Silent, The Wordsmith  o .｡.:*☆
❧ Outsider
❧ Lyrebird's Lullaby, Dreamwalker
❧ [ #vantablack ]
Ashes on your tongue
I'm the black smoke in your lungs
So give up and get down
And get your eyes off my crown

he was met with silence. the other responded to his words, but didn't reply. strange. "d... d'ya not 'ave a name? "eat up. y' look like a walkin' corpse." his words were blunt, but true. "if y' don' mind me askin', what 'appened t' ya?"

this cat looked like they had one hell of a story to tell, and his attention was caught like a fish on a hook. amber hues glancing up to the sky, gray clouds starting to cover it.

"looks like it's gonna rain, y' wanna come in?" he gestured with his head to the gap in the shed's side, "i could probably grab some moss n' stuff if y' wanna stay for the night."

- @Rose

[Rose]

ASPHODEL
She/Her | Purrks Overlook

Dulled amber eyes lift to gaze at their companion. She doesn't particularly feel like speaking - it had become like this as of late. She rarely spoke, and there hadn't been anyone to speak to, so why bother? She remembered the black and white WindClan Medicine Cat. He didn't speak much, either, from what she'd garnered during their brief interludes, if not at all. She could relate now.

Again, she didn't respond to the name question. Why? She had too many names to count, and each one meant something different to someone different. Let this cat form his own opinion of her, his own version.

The thinned-out grey feline rose to her paws, grimacing as the large still-healing scab covering most of her back right leg screamed in protest. Her body didn't seem to appreciate all the blood-splattering she'd been doing lately, even if majority of the blood wasn't her own. Already she could feel the cramp creeping in, and this cold weather would only worsen it. She wasn't fool enough to discourage any acts of kindness, though the wariness and distrust still lingered.

For a moment she only stared, lips thinned into a straight line as she evaluated the outsider, her claws not once sheathing. Eventually, slowly, they slid back into the fluff of her paws, and she bent her head to pick up the half-eaten corvid, inclining her head at his offer to let her stay the night before limping past him into the shed.

[ @gayvinegar - Vanta | The cat is out of the bag anyway so I fixed her header LOL. ]

[gayvinegar]

☆*:.｡..｡.:*☆

☆*: .｡. o Vanta o .｡.:*☆

☆*: .｡. o The Wrathful, The Silent, The Wordsmith o .｡.:*☆
❧ Outsider
​❧ Lyrebird's Lullaby, Dreamwalker
​❧ [ #vantablack ]
Ashes on your tongue
I'm the black smoke in your lungs
So give up and get down
And get your eyes off my crown

ah. still not talking, huh? at least they took him up on his offer. " 'm sorry. wish there was somethin' i could do for yer wounds but alas, i don' have knowledge of..." what's the word? "healin'... plants" eh good enough.

"no name, huh?" he made a soft click with his tongue, eyes momentarily glazing over in thought. he had to call them something other than 'the cat'

what's a name that would fit with his sibling's names?

"how 'bout asphodel?"

- @Rose [LARKY!!]

[Rose]

ASPHODEL
She/Her | Purrks Overlook

Asphodel.

That was her now, she supposed. It was certainly… a name. She wouldn’t argue with it, because there was no point. Asphodel was someone new, someone who’d clawed their way out of the murky mire like a living, breathing nightmare, blood running down their sides. She didn’t know how long she’d been under, but even for a swimmer as strong as she, she’d come up coughing and wheezing her lungs out.

The name would suffice.

As the gloomy sky overhead burst into tears, weeping for the wrongs of the world, Asphodel settled near the exit to finish eating the corvid given to her. On a regular occasion, she would have offered to share the food, but Asphodel knew the ways of rouges. Aside from the fact that she was starving and she needed the food, she knew she wasn’t allowed to hunt in the territory of others. Who knew how large this tom’s territory was? She wasn’t stupid enough to risk it. Though… after a few moments of consideration, Asphodel lifted her head to eye the black and white feline. Did she want to talk? Or would gestures do the trick?

Pushing away the half-eaten corvid because her stomach wouldn’t be able to ingest more without making her throw up, Asphodel lifted a bloodied paw to point at him before tilting her head inquisitively. Name? Whether her question was understood or not, she refocused her attention on grooming her fur. She could tend to her wounds later, when the downpour halted, when she could go out and look for marigold. This cat probably wouldn’t miss a plant.

[ @gayvinegar - Vanta | Lark indeed. ]