TW (disclaimers same as in the original project) Writing example 1: Prim paced through a small clearing, the cloudy sky overhead blocking out the faible sunlight. The hybrid flicked their ears, as she growled loudly. Three cats were scratched into the soft dirt, two house cats and a tall snow leopard. Prim whipped around and suddenly slashed the trio of figures, mutating their features into grotesque faces. “They deserve that” the loner whispered to herself, glaring at the scattered earth. “They deserve that. /She/ deserved that” Primrose repeated, over and over, louder and louder, until she was yelling at the top of her lungs. She screamed her heart out, tears beginning to form. They poured down like gushing rivers, blurring her vision. Several birds cawed and flew away from the deafening volume as Primrose shook her tear-stained face. “She deserved it... she deserved it” the loner was now reduced to a soft mumbling, laying down and resting her paws on her scarred paws. Flashes of happy memories of spending time together with her now ex best friend, meeting Talonstar for the first time, Magsid, actually feeling loved and cared for, but she snarled. /No one/ cared anymore. Not Rubypelt, not Talonstar, she was sure that even her mate Magsid was having doubts about being with her, and Prim’s unborn kits probably already hated her, for bringing them into this cruel, hard world. She cried, and cried, until a bright smile on a chimera cat appeared in her mind. Goldenpaw. The apprentice was the only cat the scarred loner ever regretted mauling. The sweet grin, the innocent mind, the pure soul that she, again, had to /ruin/ and mutate. Prim gave a dry sob, scratching a thin line on herself. Suddenly she turned her front right paw over, revealing the soft fur there, and slashed a deep wound. Prim winced, but gritted her teeth, observing the scar she had just given herself. //One for every action I regret taking// she thought to herself, immediately remembering first meeting with Rubypelt and Quailfall. Another slash. The kitnapping. And one more. Ares and Owl, two more down, murdering that innocent Springclan apprentice, who was just keeping watch at night. The kit deaths. The mauling. The t0rture. The bloodshed. All those mementoes spiralled into a storm within Prim’s mind, until her inner paw had become a bloody mess. No, she couldn’t take it anymore. She was sick of life. Of the betrayal, of the regret, of hurting others for her own happiness and satisfaction. She had to put an end to it. Primrose first thought of leaving Talonstar and joining ANTS, but she slashed herself again for even thinking of that. No, it was too late for that. Her heart, mind and soul had already degraded to the dark side a long while ago, so there was no turning back. A second thought came to mind, one that would please everyone in the universe, but would be more... permanent than the rest. She raised a claw to her throat and closed her eyes, but then shook her head. No, it couldn’t be that simple. Too painless. Too calm. She wanted to go in a bang, to be remembered, to go up on flames as if she was a firework, though even the brightest flames have their low-burning, almost /beautiful/ moments. Prim sighed, being at two minds. She was stuck, in an endless paradox, a moral dilemma. To go quickly would be most pleasant, yet the most difficult to the mind. But going up in a flash and a bang, after her final act, would be what the old Primrose would have wanted. But the old Primrose was gone, like ashes in the wind after a blazing and destructive wildfire. She stood up and looked up to the sky, a twisted smile on her face. “Oh StarClan, you must enjoy watching all of us suffer, don’t you? The constant manipulation, acts of pure cruelty, desperate need for reassurance, it all must be a game to you. But I’ve broken it. I have found a way through the Matrix. You can throw all the suffering, and misery and depression all you want, but a fact still stands. No one, and I mean /no one/ hates me , despises me, as much as I do to myself. Why do you think I play with all those pure minds, the pure souls? What would be the point, might you ask, in ruining as many lives as humanly possible? Well I have one, simple answer for you: That is all an attempt at drowning out all my thoughts, my insecurities, my regrets. If I can choke out my real muses like a vine, to keep it from reaching the sunlight, I can push it down to the very bottom, to the deep of the dark pit, where I can squash them and pile everything else on top, to forget. Any normal cat would never do such atrocities, and resort to more safer, common methods of coping, such as catching butterflies or watching the river flow. Believe me, I’ve /tried/ to do that, but it never works. Truth be told, harming others is my /addiction/, I can’t live without it. Every day I wake up, I make up constantly new ways of hurting others, it’s always on my mind.
I can’t get rid of it, as hard as anyone, or I try. But I’m fine! I’m totally fine! There’s no need to send me universal signs that I’m messed up, I just accept it as a part of me. My heart, is rotten. It is dark and cold and cruel, a perfect reflection of the world. Some might say that there is still hope, but I personally think that those cats are sappy optimists who think life is all sunshine and rainbows. I thought that too, one time, very, very long ago. I thought we could all get along together with peace and prosperity. Oh boy how wrong I was later proven. But still, my point still stands. The world is dark, and so am I, and I have no plans on changing that. I may be alone and friendless, but in my opinion, /hate/ is a more powerful motivator and inspiration than love and friendship. And if you try to believe anything else, well you’re the one telling yourself the lies” Prim ranted, tears reappearing in her one deep midnight blue eye. Taking a deep breath, she lay down again, this time picturing all her favourite memories, especially Rubypelt. “I miss you” she softly cried, tears pooling up in front of her very eyes. “I miss you” Primrose sobbed. Example 2: The moon shone dimly through the stormy clouds, barely illuminating the scene below. A dark figure raced through the streets, thick raindrops splattering across her ripped and worn out clothes. A deep, crimson hood concealed her face, keeping it safe from the rain, but tears poured down from her bright blue eyes. The criminal glanced over her shoulder, spotting two chasing after her. She gritted her teeth and took a sharp turn, her dark brown boots skidding on the wet pavement. A crack caught the toe of her shoes, tripping the fleeing fugitive. She winced, long cuts appearing on the palms of her already bruised palms, trying to stop herself from the tumble. “There!” Crowd a female voice, flashing a bright flashlight right where crumpled figure lay. The stranger pushed herself up, ignoring the pain that radiated from her ha d and began running once again. Her hood had fallen off, revealing a scarred and fearful face. Ahead, lamps shone like a beacon in front of a massive yet familiar House. The Sagittarius Mansion. Summoning whatever last bits of strength she had, the criminal rushed over to the double oak doors and flung them open. A tall, concerned looking person stood there, a sapphire tipped staff in his hand. “What happened?” He asked, pulling in Tempest towards himself. “Th-the cops are here! Hide the kids!” Tempest choked out. Magsid brushed the wet ginger hair away “Hide behind me” Tempest crouched behind his bUfF body, shivering from being so cold and wet, as her consciousness kept slipping in and out. Finally, still clutching her husband’s hand, the criminal collapsed to the ground, her bright blue eyes dull and clouded with fear. Example 3: /Tap, tap, tap/ Mischa peeked outside her tiny cottage home, a small speck of colour amongst the luscious, green mountains of Hoverla. Right at the base of the clear window, sat a light grey carrier pigeon, impatiently tapping at the glass with his beak, a letter tied to its foot. The Slav smiled and gently lifted the window open, just enough of a crack for her pet to come fluttering in, a swift flurry of feather and squawks. “Calm down, Vasilik” the veteran laughed as the stubborn bird did a loop near the ceiling and came diving back down, bomber-plane style. Mischa let out a squeak of surprise, stumbling as Vasilik whisked past her face and landed gracefully on her shoulder of her dark purple trench-coat. Mischa sighed when her pet then proceeded to puff out his chest, looking up with dignity towards his owner, expecting high praise. “You silly thing, just hand me the message” Mischa rubbed her temples from the minor headache the pigeon was giving her. It /was/ 9 am, and the slender women was still not fully awake. Vasilik gave an indignant ‘hiss’, accompanied with a look of disgust as he ruffled his soft feathers. Mischa then quickly snatched the letter from his leg, tired of his incompetence, and untied the bright crimson ribbon. Flopping down onto a white mattress, she unfurled the crisp paper and read aloud the message. ‘“Dear Mischa, this is your best friend speaking. I do hope you’re having a wonderful break In your native Homeland, but let’s cut to the chase: Your… accomplice is stirring up some trouble, and I know chaos is brewing when I see it. Levi has been… uncooperative with basically anyone, and she’s bossy. I know, you consider her a ‘childhood friend’ but now I’m starting to think there’s a reason why you literally needed Kat to be your therapist for a while when things got rocky with your ‘friend’. She accuses us of leaving her out, and when /Levi/ clearly insults someone she blames it all on /us/ and plays the victim! How on Earth do you put up with that? Thankfully, so far, Levi hasn’t done anything drastic… yet. I suppose we should be wary, but I’m warning you, if that +
