#Rattledance

[rabbitclangen]

Prologue, part 1

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[tundrainafrica]

Title: A Tale of Two Slaves (1/17)

Summary:  "Soulmates don’t exist. Fate doesn't exist. Everything is a choice." At that moment, Levi could only watch as she made the choice for him."

Reincarnation AU. Levi remembers everything from their past life. Hange doesn't.

Note: This has been sitting on my computer untouched for a while, along with the timeline I prepared for a multichapter fic. Will probs go back to it soon. Feedback is very much appreciated.

Other Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14

Link to cross-postings: AO3

In dreams people only see faces they already know.

It was an interesting fact Levi had probably come across, lazily scrolling through his social media timelines or opening countless tabs after getting into some Wikipedia blackhole in between the long days of schools and the short nights asleep.

He spent a fair amount of time on the internet, reading up about whatever bullshit politics came up with, controversies and bathroom reader fun facts. During his first year of college, it had stuck to him for a time. Maybe because it just seemed too unrealistic, too unbelievable.

After all, ever since he had started college, he felt like he had been dreaming of more and more unfamiliar faces. It could have been attributed at least to the fact that he was exposed to more people in a crowded city than he had been in the small town he grew up in. As time went by, these faces he barely recognized though, had become the main actors in his dream.

The long haired boy with the elvish features. The man with the clean cut appearance and a glint of mischief in his eyes. The oriental girl with subtle European features. The cheeky girl with a beat up pair of glasses and unkempt hair.

They and many others had been regulars in his dreams and Levi had come up with names for them already, names he remembered muttering, names he screamed multiple times in his head. By the time he woke up to the four walls of his bedroom a few hours before his first class, they were vague memories, only as intelligible as his view of the world right after waking up.

Some mornings, he had found himself more exhausted than when he had slept. Some mornings, he found his throat sore from screaming. Some days, his eyes were swollen from crying.

He lived alone in a dormitory and he had wanted to infer that it had been homesickness that had made those nightmares possible. He had never really abhorred being alone though, in fact he liked the privacy that came with having his own room.

He quickly shot down that theory and did not think too much about it soon after. His daily life did not give him too much time to ponder such fleeting and abstract of a concept as dreams in between lessons and training.  

The dreams never left him, some days they were more vivid than others. After a few years of navigating academics, trainings, and obligations, Levi had gotten used to brushing off that one tear he’d get as he woke up, taking a lozenge to soothe the sore throat or just leaving the lights off in his room to alleviate the pounding headache he would get some mornings.

Daily life and obligations never did allow him the time and space to ponder too much on those dreams. Levi chalked it up to stress and unexplained trauma, easily soothed by ten minutes scrolling through social media or hours reorganizing his room for the third time that week.

Financial and time constraints made it impossible as well to even consider consulting about it and Levi found himself compartmentalizing those dreams into those few hours of sleep he got at night and the one hour he allowed himself each day to adjust to the waking world.

The line blurred one night though when one of those names was nonchalantly mentioned among others.

"Hange Zoe..."

It was just one name in a list recited by their coach before they were all dismissed for the evening. Sandwiched between a few other names before and after it, it wasn't supposed to stand out like that. Oddly, it did.

As Levi rode his bike to his dormitory room after a tiring day of training, he found himself repeating that name again and again. He tried to make sense of the odd familiarity which came with a name he could have sworn he had never heard before.

A family friend? A childhood friend?

Levi entertained those possibilities. Having grown up in a small town, his family friends and childhood friends consisted of everyone in that tight knit community and he could have listed out all their names then and there. She wasn’t part of it.

To at least, satisfy his own curiosity, Levi had sent a message to his parents before going to sleep. Just in case he had met her before.

Levi woke up the next morning, his throat a little scratchier, his body a little more tired. The first thing he did was check his phone.

Hange Zoe wasn’t a family friend.

Levi put the covers over himself and closed his eyes. His head was pounding and his chest was heavy. He had only noticed a moment later that his eyes were wet, his breaths were coming out in heaves.

What did I dream about this time?

Levi needed the whole morning to recover.

                                  A Tale of Two Slaves

Levi managed at least to drag himself out of bed for afternoon training. By then, others have already started warming up. Levi wondered if he would be able to carry his body through a warm up jog, given his state only a few hours ago.

In the end, getting the jog done became a matter of discipline more than anything else and he had finished well above everyone else.

He had always been faster, given his smaller build and he had the natural muscle and athletic skill to be versatile as well. That was what made him stand out as the best athlete in the track and field team. He never cared too much either way about the admiration many of his teammates held towards him.

The recurring nightmares and the aftermaths of these though had left Levi averse to human interaction. Ironically, as he moved away from his small town and into the bigger city, his world had gotten smaller. Levi found himself keeping his world only wide enough to win track and field events and pass classes.

No man could really ever be an island though, no matter how much they try. Levi soon found that out when he saw that aforementioned Hange Zoe on the side of the track, talking to one of their coaches.

“This is Hange Zoe.”

“You can call me Hange.”

Levi did not need that quick introduction his coach had just given him. Somehow, the name and the face just clicked inside him. He looked expectantly at his coach and back at Hange.

Hange held out her hand to him and smiled. “I heard you’re the best one in the team. Coach Greg spoke highly of you.”

Levi narrowed his eyes at her. “What's she doing here?”

“Didn’t I tell you last time? Some of the premed students wanted to do case studies on athletes here for their final thesis. If you could help them out?” The coach turned to Hange. “Levi here is one of our best jumpers. He holds a pretty good record for sprinting, hurdles and throwing events as well.”

“Your jogging form looks amazing! I’d love to see you in action.”

Levi was not prepared for the invasion of privacy that came a second after. Hange held both of his hands towards her and leaned closer towards him. Before Levi could even stop himself, he had pushed her away and ran, the screaming of his coach to come back had become mere muffled screams in the background.

The only reason Levi did drag himself to training was for the fact that it was still one of the few hobbies he found complete calm yet complete liberation in. Those few moments after launching himself up in the air, those magical few moments high up in the air with only the empty sky above him, Levi felt free.

As Levi powered through, he found within him a burst of energy, built up from an idle morning cooped up in his room.

He had done those same drills so many times before. The excitement he got from flying through the air and running easily took over whatever exhaustion and rattledness plagued him only a second ago. He let his body memory guide him through each drill, concentrating his consciousness on other things like the cool wind on his skin as he shot through the track and the purple sky that stretched above as he performed horizontal jumps.

If Levi had been any more aware of his surroundings, he would have noticed his teammates leaving the track one by one. Maybe, he would have noticed as he started moving to the hurdles that the purple sky was slowly turning into a dark blue and the scenery around him was becoming just a little more than shadows.

It was nothing new. Levi had stayed behind to work on other skills multiple times and his coach and teammates had just learned to leave the club room open. Levi would leave an extra thirty minutes to an hour later than his companions,

At that training though, with little incentive to break away from that small bubble he had built for himself, not  a lot of things could have broken his concentration. Fifteen minutes into his hurdles exercises, the distraction came. Levi was raising one leg, positioning himself to jump a hurdle when he caught a shadow from his peripherals.

Someone had been watching him in the dark.

He was alone. Or he was supposed to be alone at least.

The combination of those realizations and the exhaustion that threatened to take over Levi only caused Levi to stumble on the hurdle in front of him and fall forward onto cold ground.

“Hey! You okay?”

It was that same voice from that same conversation Levi had walked away from just an hour ago. The voice was as loud and as annoying as it was an hour ago that even when his shadow was still a good few meters away, Levi remembered how it felt with her forehead once again pressed on his and her grip on his two hands.

Levi was frozen on the ground, his body still in shock at the sudden loss of control and the whiplash of what he had just imagined.  

“That looked painful.” Her voice was softer than it was a second ago. Hange put her hand on his.

Levi pulled away instinctively, and winced as his palms protested the quick action. Levi looked at his palms. In the dim light, he could see three long gashes lined up in the middle. Blood was starting to come out as well.

Levi was exhausted. The impact and the aftermath of falling on the ground, front first and the friction burns that followed, only further drained what was left of his energy.

By the time Hange helped him up by the shoulders  Levi was almost motionless, the small movements he made were carefully calculated for fear of aggravating the dull pain.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.”

                              A Tale of Two Slaves

“Sorry about a while ago… People say I’m just a little too intimidating  but I just get really excited about these types of things. You had such a good running form. You jump so high. You get a really good height above the hurdles… “ Hange gave him a consoling look. “Except that last one.”

Hange was closer to him than what Levi would have preferred at first. Oddly, he had gotten used to it quickly enough, particularly because he had no other choice.

The gashes on his palms were bloody and painful. With little to no means to bandage them himself, he was left to rely on the only person there and as Levi soon found out, she had problems with maintaining a comfortable social distance from people.

And she never stopped talking.

“Are the bandages too tight?” Hange asked, in between other ramblings Levi had tuned out.

“‘No.” The only words Levi had said since they had arrived in the club room fifteen minutes ago.

“Okay, let’s move on to your knees.”

Levi had not surveyed the damage himself but he guessed it was probably worse than his palms from Hange’s concerned frown.

“You’re gonna need stitches for this. The clinic probably isn’t open so you might have to go to the hospital… We could call a taxi and---”

“You’re a pre-med student, can’t you do it yourself?”

Hange blushed. “You trust me to do it?”

"A trip to the hospital will just be a waste of time." Levi admitted.

Hange rummaged deeper into the first aid kit. "This is gonna be painful though."

Better than taking a trip to the hospital now. Levi braced himself for it and decided to distract himself from the discomfort of the whole ordeal.  

“How does it feel? Flying in the sky like that?” Hange asked. At that point, Hange had started to talk more purposefully, as if she wanted to get a point across to him.

Levi guessed that it was all an attempt to distract him from the mini operation she was giving him. From his angle, Levi could not see the extent of the injuries, nor did he want to. The pain was bearable, although it was still much worse than what he would have considered a discomfort.

“I’ve always wanted to take a sport like that, maybe gymnastics, maybe figure skating or track and field? That’s the closest people can get to flying right?” Hange was asking too many questions but it was obvious she was not expecting answers.

Her words flowed as smoothly as the movement of the needle and thread he could see from his angle.

Something about the way she talked to him was comforting and eventually Levi had almost completely relaxed, the pain of needle to torn skin a distant memory. He lay back on the bench and closed his eyes, focusing not on her words but instead on the familiar warm tone as she spoke.

The sensation of needle to skin, the burning pain, the dizziness that followed. They were all too familiar. All accompanied by that familiar warm voice.

Maybe we should just live here together. Right Levi?

If we keep running and hiding, what will that get us.

Hange's voice tore into his daydream. “What do you mean? Are you running from something?"

[myrtlew1sh]

April's Fools!!!! Myrtlewish is very trans and very gay. Also, Happy (late) Trans Day of Visibility!!! All trans people are wonderful and amazing :)

Along with Myrtlewish and Eyebelly, the list of trans ogg cats is very long

Furbystar

Dragonwish

Gelospaw

Midnightflower

Applecrunch

Katkit

Bluebellkit

Graywhisper

leafjump

blueberrybush

pinkpelt

gallowshill

graveyard

george

tumbleweed

birchbark

cowsplotch

brooksplash

rosestar

hunky/rigel

susie

daisy

dayblaze

springstar

pikestar

hawkwhistle

thorn

roseberry

nice

barbie

yarrow

eaglekit

porkflower

rockpath

bunnykit

Snowleopard

Songpaw

Cormorantflight

Runningrunner

Honeydrop

Cheesepelt

Tinypounce

Begoniakit

Brookkit

Firstar

Jayzee

Dietcoke

Bitchbastard

Boulderbounce

Thornstar

Bonestar

Butterflystar

Ingrid

Dirt

Fairyberry

Luckytoes

Shadowleap

Killfodder

Bananastep

Famine

Oni

Partykit

Sillykit

Bloomkit

Clown cat

Bubbletea

Raspberryleaf

abysswatcher

Roseberry

Sillystring

Rattledance

Hopescar

Bastardbitch

beefbeef

Tiredkit

Broncokit

Buckkit

Sunnose

Toothbrush

Tormentil

Hellebore

Daylilies

Tickseed

Sedum

Catnip

Peony

Sage

Marigold

Vervain

daffodil

Rose

Hibiscus

Foxgloves

Marshmallow/Aldebaran

Brain/Orion

Coco/Capella

Fuckshit/Adhara

Hunky/Rigel

Mint/Polaris

Justin Bieber/Matar

Ear/Alnitak

Nose/Alnilam

Magical Mashed Potatoes/Vega

Jimmy/Alzirr

Table/Mensa

Eeby/Bellatrix

Deeby/Lyra

Westclan (the cat)

Spiderclan II (the cat)

Agave

Sneezebee

thorn

thunderspirit

Skypetal

Grapefanta

Flowerbranch

Badgerpaw

Baitpaw

Lacetail

Peltfur

Mellisp/Eclispe

Larkmint

Logstorm

Bellstar

Weststar

Spiderstar

ravenstar

Perennial

Mewsta/Andromeda

Flora the fox

Fauna the fox

Drowsystep

Ibuprofen

[one-mopeyboi]

The Exile of Shrikerush Pt.1

“Papa, story?” Grousekit sleepily mewed, nestling into Harestar’s warm side. Toms did not usually care for kits, especially leaders, but that idea was of the long past and the defeat of the dark shadow that walked the land of the living as the impostor of Bramblestar is definitely proof that things have changed. Besides, who else would Harestar allow to raise the little loner tom he found in the snow?

He hardly called him Papa any more now that he’s learned his name, so Harestar definitely would treasure this.

“This is a story about the unlikely hero of WindClan, long before you or even I were born. Long ago...”

WindClan’s warriors were divided into two kinds. The moor runners and the tunnelers, and a brave tom called Rattledance was one such tunneler... one day he went down into the tunnels to hunt weasels, and he was lost forever.

His mate Pigeontail was distraught, because now he’d never see their little kit. The kit, Skipperkit, was something special altogether ; he was a male tortoiseshell... but Pigeontail didn’t know that. She thought Skipperkit was a molly because tortoiseshell were almost always mollies!

But Pigeontail had been heartbroken since her beloved mate died, and a few moons after that she herself passed away in her sleep. Skipperkit got very little milk, so he was tiny - yeah, that’s right, just like you, Grousekit, but you grew big, didn’t you?

“And one day I’ll be big as you, only I’ll be a medicine cat so I can help others!”

“That is very good, Grousekit.”

I had you memorize the leaders’ names, right? Heatherstar, Tallstar, Onestar, and then me.. but two leaders before Heatherstar was Buckstar, a very wise tom. He decided that it would not do for Skipperkit to be an orphan, so he asked his mate Hailfleck to take him in. Skipperkit and Buckstar’s kit ; Dogkit, who was named that because he was very large, became like siblings. “

This happiness did not last so long. When it was time for the two young toms to be apprentices, Dogpaw stopped caring so much for Skipperpaw because he didn’t understand the fact that Skipperpaw knew he was actually a tom. A Changeheart may be accepted now ; you know, like my brother Kestrelflight, or you’ve met Fernsong of ThunderClan, but it was not always so back then. Dogpaw started being mean to Skipperpaw, like tripping him during battle practice and eating his prey and embarassing him in front of Duskpaw, who Skipperpaw really liked.

Skipperpaw decided that this disrespect wasn’t going to stand, so he challenged his brother to a battle and if Skipperpaw won, Dogpaw would have to apologize to him. “Claws sheathed, so there’s no wounds and Buckstar won’t know we fought,” they agreed at the gorge (that was the outskirts of WindClan’s territory back then) , and they were just about to pounce on eachother when Dogpaw spotted the scent of another cat - no, two cats - at the gorge with them. It was two lost kits, so young they couldn’t even mew, and their mother looked badly hurt!

“Why’d you stop there, Harestar?”

“Because that is all I’m telling you tonight. Get some sleep, small one.”

“I’m not tired,” his foster son protested, but the kit was already yawning and fast asleep within a heartbeat.

[takingcontrolme-blog]

CSI18 - The Case of Deadbeat Beauty

  Ikke alt fungerer altid i Forensicland. Nogle gange rammer vi ud. På flere måder end en. Jeg stirrede ud på mine kontors høje vinduer på den blå, blå Santa Barbara-himmel, med Nary en sky i syne. Det var min 50-års fødselsdag. Regningerne blev ignoreret. Det virkede som en perfekt dag. Så ringede telefonen og en dejlig stemme svarede. Ginger Justín. Hun lo; hun elskede mine vittigheder; Hun syntes jeg var strålende. Hun sagde, at jeg var perfekt til hende. Som ekspert. Jeg mindede hende om sin far. Hendes afdøde far. Jeg burde have taget køen. Det ser ud til, at fru Justins far var gået væk - muligvis ved hjælp af Lynn Dallas, en levende følgesvend - en ledsager, der var i den nyeste version af fars vilje. Ikke kun det, Ginger-kind, omsorgsfuldt, dejlig Ginger - var blevet skrevet ud af viljen. Hendes søskende var stadig derinde. Børnebørnene var stadig derinde. Fru Dallass ledsager var derinde for hundens skyld! Penge til følgesvendens følgesvend! Men intet til ingefær. Noget måtte gøres. Poseur var nødt til at blive udsat, før hun tog endnu en gammel mands formue. Som Ginger oplyste mig, var dette Dallass M.O. Kendskab til den gamle fyr, bevæge sig ind med ham, blive en kærlighed interesse ("Hun elskede aldrig ham, hun var lige efter hans penge!"), Så hjælpe ham med at shuffle off planeten, når tiden var rigtig. Ginger's juridiske ørn, Big Dan Tuberosa, var enig. "Dette er en dårlig kvinde, dette Dallas. Hun skal stoppes." Så jeg bad om et katalog af enheder, der kunne holde forskellige versioner af testamentet. Hr. Justín havde ret opsætning. Racks med netværk gear ovenpå og ned. Flere computere og bærbare computere. Masser af backup harddiske. Ginger spurgte, om jeg kunne hente dem på landsdækkende administrator, John Geering's sted i Silicon Valley. Og hvis jeg kunne skære denne stakkels heroine pause på prisen. Tredive år af at være i biz har lært mig den hårde måde at når nogen forsøger at hjul & amp; håndtere dig, det er et rødt flag. Hver dollarrabat synes at komme med et fempunktsfald i respekt. Det er en mærkelig del af den menneskelige natur, der giver væk en C-note får folk til at tro, at du er et let mærke. Men hendes desperate charme sparkede ind, og jeg sagde, at jeg ville vælge gearet næste gang jeg var op på den måde. Det viste sig at Yahoo! Nyheder ønskede mit input til et onlineinterview / artiklen kaldet: "True / False: Aldrig sælge din gamle telefon", så efter interviewet gik jeg til Geerings nærliggende grave for at hente ting. Da jeg kom ned fra hans kontor, var der ingefær og venter på at hilse på mig. Hun var lang, lang og læn, undtagen hvor det tælles. Hendes flammende røde hår stod op med eftermiddagssolen. Hun lænede sig op mod mig med en sløv, vedvarende kram og bad mig om at dele en øl på en lokal fortovscafé, hvor vi kunne diskutere sagen. Jeg plukket et bord udenfor, i alles synspunkt, bare for at spille det sikkert. En lokal Firehouse IPA afkølet mit skyllede ansigt og slog mig nerver nok til at afklare mine wits. Brølet i mine ører faldt. Jeg hørte mere om, hvor meget Ginger's far elskede hende. Jeg hørte mere om, hvordan hendes søskende (dem, der stadig er nævnt i Will), stod på hende for at få den rigtige historie ud i deres fars hukommelse. Jeg hørte hvordan Ginger skulle gøre det hele alene. Jeg hørte mere om den onde Frøken Dallas. Jeg hørte, hvordan denne sag ville være værd at tjene penge og kunne jeg ikke gøre en del af mit gebyr på et uforudsete grundlag? Som det viser sig, er ekspertvidner ikke lov til at arbejde på en beredskabsbasis. Billedet af den hyrede pistol ville være uundgåeligt. Uanset omstændighederne, at blive betalt af hvor meget du vinder, passer det ikke lige overens med etikken om fuldstændig ærlighed på standen. Ligesom Lamas underviser, vedhæftes vedhæftelsen kun med lidelse. Vi havde stadig spørgsmålet om en kontrakt og en indehaver at håndtere. Big Dan forsikrede mig om, at Ginger var god til det, men det er aldrig en god ide at komme i gang uden noget nedskrevet. Hun underskrev kontrakten og skar mig en check. Med dette bag os og nogle tech talk sat i lejemål, besluttede vi os for en strategi. Hun troede, at to computere (med 3 diskdrev) ville være mest tilbøjelige til at bære frugt. • Jeg ville selvfølgelig lave et retsmedicinsk billede af hver harddisk, ved hjælp af FTK Imager gennem en skriveblokerer. • Lav en søgeordssøgning med EnCase for udtryk og sætninger taget fra kendte versioner af Will, og giv resultaterne som et regneark for hvert søgeord. • Gendan slettede filer. • Se efter Willmaker-dokumenter, herunder ved at finde en hexadecimal signatur for disse filer, så søg og skære dem ud med Blade. • Find hvornår og på hvilken computer der havde været Wills oprettet, ændret og fået adgang. • Giv en komplet liste over regneark for alle filer med Creation, Last Written og Last Accessed dates, blandt andet filattributter. • Opgrader alle eksisterende og slettede historikposter, ved hjælp af NetAnalysis og HstEx • Find hvilke USB-enheder der var blevet knyttet til hver computer (hvis der var mere opdagelige enheder). • Find ud af, om fil-tørre software blev installeret. Som du kunne forestille dig, tog det lidt tid og producerede en masse elektronisk dokumentation. Disse mange data ville tage ud af en stor del af skoven, hvis jeg sendte den som udskrifter. At mange papirbøger ikke er gratis, og da jeg ikke arbejdede pro bono, ville tiden til at udskrive det ikke være gratis. I modsætning til virkeligheden af at skulle betale for min tid, accepterede Big Dan og Ginger at tage det som filer, selvom de ikke ønskede at nogen elektronisk korrespondance skulle kunne spores senere. De ønskede, at e-mail-kommunikation skulle være stum på indholdet af det, vi fandt. CYA alarmerne inde begyndte at svirre. Flere flags begyndte at gå op ... Ginger brugte mange timer på at forsøge at sortere gennem dataene. Jeg fortalte mange timer på telefonen. Hun var lyst, men hendes hoved var ikke bygget til elektroniske regneark - det blev bygget til fortælling, og hun komponerede en historie til at passe hendes fortælling. Da jeg forklarede, at fakta ikke passede, spurgte hun mig i en halsig stemme, hvis jeg ikke kunne behage, bedes du gøre denne tilpasning til hvad jeg selvom dataene betydede? Gennem flere røde flag måtte jeg antage, at hun tog mit ben. Dataene er dataene. Som en berømt tv-politimand sagde engang, "Bare fakta, Ma'am." Sagsøgtes råd besluttede at tage min deponering over telefonen. Når en advokat gør sig klar til at prøve at tage mig fra hinanden, kan jeg lide at kunne læse sit kropssprog, så telefonindskud er ikke mine favoritter. Jeg kunne høre Big Dan og Ginger i rummet sammen med den anden advokat. Vi kom ind i emnet for, hvilke ændringer, oprettelses- og adgangsdatoer der var meningen. Som jeg forklarede, kunne jeg høre ingefær bede om en pause for at tjekke hendes søn, som hun sagde var syg hjemme. Derefter ringede mit kontor telefon og nummeret var hendes! Hendes søn var fint. Hun havde ringet til at forsøge at ændre virkeligheden lidt. Selvom hun havde svært ved at finde vej rundt om et regneark, insisterede hun på, at jeg havde fejl i mit vidnesbyrd om fildatoer. Jeg var nødt til at forklare, at jeg kendte en eller to ting om dem, og at jeg selv havde udført forsøgene til bekræftelse. Hun havde også, sagde hun, og jeg tog fejl. Jeg må indrømme, jeg var lidt rattlede. Jeg forsøgte at forklare, at Windows 7 og XP behandler bestemte datoer lidt anderledes. Jeg var nødt til at holde fast i mine våben, og ingefær var rasende. Alligevel besluttede de at tage det helt til retten. Ginger forberedte en stak af shreddable papir regneark og faxede dem til mig. Nu var jeg den, der havde problemer med at tolke regneark, da jeg ikke kunne gøre hendes hold sammen. Jeg gjorde mit bedste. Ingen ønsker en smuk kvinde at tro, at de bliver foragtede. Så faxede hun mig om en 100 point, hun ønskede, at jeg skulle vidne om. Jeg tilbragte flere timer forklarer, at der var mange ting derinde, som jeg simpelthen ikke kunne sige. Jeg følte, at jeg var på et debathold. Jeg skulle have stoppet der og da, men jeg holdt fast med det, indtil hun sagde - skriftligt - at hvis jeg ikke kunne besvare et bestemt punkt på en bestemt måde, insisterede hun på, at jeg sagde, at jeg ikke kunne få svaret. Selv om det ikke ville have været højden af et etisk brud, ville det være skade. Jeg siger op. Jeg kaldte Big Dan og fortalte ham, at jeg tog mig af sagen, og at han virkelig burde fortælle sin klient ikke at bede en officer i retten om at perjure sig selv. Men Dan var stadig en troende i denne forfærdelige fristende. Og retten var truende. Jeg lod mig selv tale om at gå til retten under følgende omstændigheder: Ginger ville ikke tale til mig mere - kun advokat Dan; ingen ville forsøge at påvirke mit vidnesbyrd, herunder Big Dan; og jeg var nødt til at modtage øjeblikkelig betaling for at dække den langvarige regning samt kommende vidnesbyrd. Færdig og færdig. Jeg afslutter. Ville det være, at aftalen blev holdt. Hvad der skulle have været et par timer på stativet, blev til to hele dage. Ginger sad med sin advokat, scowling, rystede på hovedet og på anden måde forsøgte at få mig til at sige "de rigtige" ting. Hvert af hendes eksperter og hendes advokat og dommeren var en doofus, og hver eneste af oppositionen var strålende. Pauserne var fulde af beskyldninger, og denne smukke kvinde, som kunne få så mange mennesker til at danse til hendes melodi, kunne ikke få fakta til at sige, hvad hun ville have til dem, uanset hvor mange gange hun skifte hende om hvad de skulle betyde . De bad mig om at blive en anden dag som et modløs vidne til den næste fyr, men jeg kunne bare ikke. Jeg var nødt til at beskæftige mig med virkelighed og aftaler. Nå i sidste ende blev jeg tilbage med at holde posen til en dags domstolsregning - og karma blev ramt af den giftige temptress. Måske var det hendes histrionics, hendes væskeformede måde med sandheden, eller bare, at far havde skrevet hende ud af hendes arv for en eller anden mærkelig grund. Men efter flere års arbejde med retssystemet, sluttede den onde Lynn Dallas med, hvad Will gjorde hende, og den skarpe sirenen fik en andel af Karma. Så nu sidder jeg og mediterer på flag og tegn og den blå Santa Barbara-himmel. Betaler lidt nærmere opmærksom på, hvad universet skal vise en fyr, der gør sit liv til at grave sandheden op med en retsmedicinsk spade. Forsøger at se, hvad der kommer for den almægtige, skal slå mig i panden med en slædeshammers for at få min opmærksomhed. Og holde fancy duds presset til den næste retsdato med fakta.  

[rabbitclangen]

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Chapter 1: Curlystar, moon 0

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LONG POST! MORE UNDER THE CUT

Prologue, part 2

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HAPPY HALLOWEEN FROM RABBITCLAN!!

moon 1 is still in progress and the ask box is still open! but i wanted to doodle everybody dressed up for the season :D i hope everyone has a safe and fun halloween!!

UNDER THE CUT: list of what everyone's costumes are supposed to be :)

Curlystar: a ghost (other ideas: a king. went with the ghost because i thought it would be more befitting to his character and more fun to draw.)

Heronburr: a mermaid (other ideas: none. hers and heavyfin's were really easy as the two to come from an ''aquatic'' clan.)

Foggypelt: Frankenstein's monster (other ideas: doctor/nurse. felt it was too on the nose, this is the idea im most proud of.)

Shiveringfoot: forest monster (other ideas: vampire fits her aesthetic but i liked it better for rattledance. i liked werewolf but had the oposite problem where it really didnt fit her aesthetic, so i gave it to whiskerpaw. after designing this i thought of a yeti, but it was too late and i do really like how she looks as is.)

Rattledance: a vampire (other ideas: i thought of a medusa or something after the fact, but i think the vampire fits her personality better anyway.)

Heavyfin: a pirate (other ideas: none, see heronburr. i almost gave him an eyepatch but i havnt gotten too many chances to show off his heterochromia yet.)

Whiskerpaw: a werewolf (other ideas: none. i dont love how he turned out- especially compared to shiveringfoot, but i wanted him to have something similar to his mentor while still being fairly simple. given later moons, it also fits that he'd be rattledance's ''opposite''.)

Moonkit: an astronaut (other ideas: he could have matched with heronburr as her son, but i didnt think it fit him as well. i couldve also done an alien, but i liked the idea of tiny kitten in a big round helmet, plus i like how it fits into the idea of him being the youngest in the clan! he is sort of their ''future''.)

[rabbitclangen]

I'm making a family tree, and to do so I'm sorting every cat into generations (with 24 moon intervals. The youngest cats in game are generation 12.) After doing the math though prairiefade was born the same moon as rattledance. They were also from the same clan, so the two would have grown up side by side.

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FOGGYPELT founder, 1st contacted female, herbalist STATUS: living

ORIGINS: -born in voleclan during leaffall -took over voleclan's medic position after her predecessor's death, but was originally a warrior -escaped the scattering with Rattledance, but the two are otherwise little more than clanmates -lead the remaining cats to the burrow Rabbitclan calls home, following Prairiefade's directions

TAGS: #Foggypelt

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CHARACTER LIST

last updated: moon 2, part 1

LIVING: Curlystar Shiveringfoot Foggypelt Heronburr Heavyfin Rattledance Whiskerpaw Moonkit

DEAD: Prairiefade

[rabbitclangen]

blog run by @miscellaneous--bones it/they

various assets from and based off the game @officialclangen

SYNOPSYS after a string of tragic events and natural disasters known as The Scattering, the remnants of four once great clans are brought together and lead to an abandoned rabbit's burrow. A leader is chosen, a star is scorn, and a new home is found to explore.

> TW: animal death, murder, possible gore and other such canon typical themes. content warnings will be updated as i see the need to add more.

MASTERLIST

UNDER THE CUT directory, gameplay info, blog info, territory and character info, etc.

CLAN MEMBERS:

Curlystar, leader Shiveringfoot, deputy Foggypelt, herbalist Heronburr Heavyfin Rattledance Whiskerpaw Moonkit

TERRITORY:

Rabbitclan Camp- an abandoned rabbit's burrow, later dug out and expanded to include plenty of room. multiple openings, main clearing above ground for the leader to hold certain ceremonies and vigils, sunbathe/share tongues, etc.

Dandelion field- taken over by dandelions in the spring. closest to the woods, bison hang out here.

Monster's Corpse- an abandoned car, rusted and over grown.

Milkweed Moor- moor on the south east side of the territory that milkweed grows. monarchs congregate here.

The River- runs through this section of land, usually shallow but still permanent enough to be referred to as a river.

Twoleg Barn- slightly off rabbitclan's territory, away from the clans. loners tend to live here. Twolegs are not frequent, but still can be found here too.

windmills- dead birds can sometimes be found around the ground here, suitable prey in a pinch. Rabbitclan claims these on their maps, but allows loners and such to scavange as well.

DIRECTORY:

#PROLOGUE > moon -1, includes the scattering, and the period of time that the founders are traveling to their new home. #CHAPTER 1 > moons and comics that take plus while Curlystar is leader. #INTERMISSION > extra art between moon posts (otherwise known as ''for funsies'') will sometimes be tagged with the above tags to show the art's place in the timeline, if applicable. #TERRITORY > posts that show art of rabbitclan's (and maybe the surrounding clan's) territory #ALLEGIANCES > character sheets and their summaries

GAMEPLAY:

> expanded mode > played ~230 moons before starting blog > pregnancy ignores biology, cats cannot be mates with first cousins or previous mentors > deputies are chosen by the game > no mods cuz theyre scary lol

BLOG:

> seeing as its common on other clangen blogs, I will implement an anon list once the need arises > no upload schedule im just havin fun lol. hopefully we keep up with it for more than a month HAHA

[one-mopeyboi]

timelines for the heck of it

I'm gonna use BS as "years before Skipperstorm"

4BS

shrikerush is born in windclan

antbite of shadowclan becomes antstar

troutstar of riverclan names darkpelt (canon darkstar) as her deputy

3BS

weevilkit (canon houndstar, i'll tell you how she got hound- later) is born in shadowclan to tipflower and ashcloud

two moons later mallowkit is born in twolegplace to thunderclan's leader wolfstar, but wolfstar took him back to thunderclan for his sister lilystem and her mate snowtuft to raise

6 moons from that mallowkit is apprenticed.

mallowpaw meets weevilpaw at gatherings and become best friends with her.

snowtuft discovered mallowkit is a half kittypet and kills his mate lilystem and critically injures mallowpaw.

mallowpaw was left for death at the shadowclan border but weevilpaw finds him

wolfstar is disliked in TC because he just let his sister's and his biological son's deaths happen so there was an uprising by his deputy oakclaw (canon oakstar)

2BS

weevilpaw and mallowpaw become weevilheart and mallowcloud.

the very weevilheart, mentored by shadowclan's leader antstar, gets an apprentice as soon as that. there are whispers she might be deputy.

rattlepaw and pigeonpaw of windclan are very close and, as soon as they got their warrior names, became mates

shrikerush "befriends" a loner kit named milkweed ; his first victim

darkpelt becomes darkstar

1BS

nothing much happens here, but antstar renounces his nine lives, being too tired and old to be a leader, and dies hit by a monster

weevilheart becomes weevilstar at a relatively young age

in newleaf lopkit and nightkit are born in windclan

YEAR 1

skipperkit is born to rattledance and pigeontail in greenleaf

duskkit and dawnkit are born not a moon later as well, to sunstripe

rattledance dies tunneling and pigeontail falls sick from grief and dies too

skipperkit is fostered by buckstar and hailfleck, the leader of windclan and his mate. he has a foster brother called dogkit

dogpaw (tunneler) and skipperpaw (moor runner) becomes apprentices. these two brothers are rivals most of the time and skipperpaw mostly only hangs out with the withdrawn but nice duskpaw (moor runner) whose sister got snatched by a hawk.

shrikerush takes his second and third victims ; breamstripe of riverclan and loppaw (tunneler) - his own apprentice.

breamstripe dies shortly after birthing her single kit flykit

darkstar is FURIOUS that her daughter breamstripe is found dead at the gorge and demands windclan answer. no one could. riverclan becomes the enemy of windclan

flykit is taken to windclan but dies shortly due to unknown causes. apparently she snuck out of camp for an adventure and got mauled brutally by a badger.

at the same time skipperpaw and dogpaw notice that the molly both of them had a crush on, loppaw, is acting weird. nightpaw, lop's sister and the medicine apprentice, diagnoses her with expecting kits. loppaw tells her sister everything and, even without warrior training, she goes fight shrikerush and got claws down her back.

skipperpaw and duskpaw are tasked with soothing her and playing with her kits, dogpaw with hunting for loppaw, while nightpaw, as the most trustworthy of the apprentices, go tell buckstar with her mentor wooltail.

shrikerush gets the yeet

dogpaw becomes dogclaw as he is a bit older

in newleaf there is a battle between riverclan and windclan, and skipperpaw's mentor molestep dies.

loppaw is named lopear after completing her assesment now that her kits are weaned, nightpaw gets her full medicine name of nighteyes

lopear still stays in the nursery - until her kits are apprentices

TBC