#except a massive brown bear instead of a thin white guy
Text
Guide to FloeClan
Hey guys, this is the guide to my FanClan, FloeClan! I've been working on this guide for... well, literal years I suppose, as this all started from a roleplay I hosted a few years back on Wattpad. This Clan means a whole lot to me, and I've wanted to share them for a while now, and I hope to one day post some stories with this fun little cat culture that I've created. Enjoy!!
Summary:
Often believed to be a myth by locals, these cats are the source of many stories. They are quiet and ghost-like, drifting in and out with the seasons. Sometimes people search for them, out on the ice, but are never successful. Seeing one of these elusive ice-cats is often considered good luck.
Territory & Camp:
FloeClan lives out on the ice floes of the Arctic Circle, where polar bears and orca whales reign supreme
Ice floes are usually barren, but enough snow drifts around to make a small, ragged camp
They don’t have a specific territory, since marking borders would lead predators right to their camp. Instead they travel far and wide to find food and resources
Out on the ice it is often foggy, making the territory all the more difficult to traverse
When they make camp, there are no separate dens for ranks. Warriors, apprentices, queens, elders, and even the high ranks of leader, deputy, and medicine cat all share one den to keep warm. This den is built out of tightly packed snow and lined with animal pelts for bedding
While the cats all sleep in the same den, they build a separate ‘day den’ for kits to spend the day in. This keeps them out of the main den and out from under the paws of elders and warriors trying to grab some shut eye, and doubles as a private meeting area for important business matters
Appearance:
FloeClan cats are thick-furred, heavyset cats with large, sharp eyes and narrow faces
Likely descended from escaped Maine Coon kittypets, they are massive in size and stature
Their fur is double-layered, with a dark, dense undercoat and a lighter topcoat that is waterproof
The undercoat colors range to different colors of black, gray, and brown. The undercoat is always darker than the topcoat
The topcoat has a wider range of colors, including cinnamon, light ginger, pale gray, silver, and white. Few cats are pure white, instead often being patched or tortoiseshell. This lighter topcoat helps them blend in with the ice
Their fur is thicker around their face, neck, and tail. This keeps wind and cold away from their eyes and other places where heat easily escapes
The pads of their paws are thick and tough, hardened from the ice, with long claws to grip it better
Their legs are often slightly shorter than the average cat, to keep them lower against the wind and to help with stalking
Weight is hard to gain out here, with all calories going straight into survival. Instead they have a lot of muscle from vigorous training
Even with extra muscle, these cats are still pretty thin. They are hardened from the cold, though, because of all the extra fur
Most everything about FloeClan cats is stumpy or short. For example, their ears are small and rounded to keep them safe from the wind. The only exception is their tails, which are long and fluffy, used for balance, swimming, and keeping warm, and their muzzles, which are long to prevent the wind from battering their faces
The more fur, the more attractive you’re considered. Lighter colored fur is also more desirable due to its ability to blend in with ice and snow. Dark fur is considered extremely unattractive, even in small amounts
Eye colors vary, though darker colors are more common
Frostbite is a real issue out on the ice, meaning it’s not uncommon for cats to be missing toes, ears, and tail-tips
Scars are also a very attractive feature for these cats. Having scars shows that you fought for your survival and won, and are a sign of great strength and perseverance
Skills:
FloeClan cats have different positions in the Clan based on their individual skill set. However, the traits everyone shares include:
Swimming. These cats are powerful swimmers, with waterproof fur, large paws, and long tails. Despite their shorter legs, they are able to keep up with their incredible stamina.
Stamina is also a skill they all possess. Cats can walk for days at a time without growing tired, and swim for hours on end.
Keeping warm is super important out on the ice, and FloeClan cats excel at it. Thick fur, tough paws, they’ve got it all. They are also creative and resourceful, able to figure things out quickly to keep themselves alive.
FloeClan cats have a very good internal clock and compass. Living in overcast darkness for three quarters of the year will do that to you.
While guard cats are specially trained in fighting techniques, all FloeClan cats know basic moves to help them win against an opponent. Usually their threats are animals much larger than them, and they will work in tandem with their Clanmates to gain the upper paw in a battle
Positions & Roles:
Leader: The leader is the head of the Clan, who makes sure everything is running smoothly and orderly. They make all the big decisions, though usually with the help of the deputy and medicine cat
Deputy: The deputy is second-in-command, and typically holds almost as much power as the leader. They organize the Clan and help distribute resources. They also help handle minor disputes, while larger arguments sometimes have to go to the leader
Healer: These cats are very valuable out in the harsh conditions, with knowledge of how to help almost any ailment. Their knowledge of herbs is what allows the Clan to thrive, and defeat illnesses and injuries that would otherwise be devastating. They oversee the wellbeing of all cats in the Clan, both physically and mentally. Healers are allowed to produce kits, but not allowed to take mates or raise any kittens they have, as their sole responsibility is to keep the Clan healthy
Seer: The religious heads of FloeClan, they seek out signs in the nature around them for messages from the ancestors, and interpret omens and dreams. They are usually adept at peacekeeping, and they bless mated pairs. Seers are responsible for singing the ceremonial hymns during ceremonies and celebrations. They are allowed to produce kits due to the limited gene pool, but are not allowed to take a mate. Any kits they have will not be theirs to raise, due to having to dedicate themselves to their Clanmates and ancestors
Warriors: FloeClan splits up its warriors into separate groups based on their skill sets. Each group has a different role and responsibility, though no one group is ever considered above the rest. The groups each have a Head, who is the leader of the specific group and is usually the eldest cat
Hunter: These cats make up the majority of the warriors of FloeClan. They are fast and good at stalking. They leave in large groups for days at a time, braving weather and predators, to find food for their Clan. These cats have to be tough and resourceful in order to find prey in the harsh environment. They also have to work well in a group. Much of their prey is a lot larger than a single cat, so every cat’s strength is needed to provide food for their Clan
Guard: Guard cats are the biggest and strongest warriors of FloeClan. They are both the first and last lines of defense in the event of trouble, and their main purpose is to protect the Clan. When not guarding the camp, it is also their job to oversee repairs and construction, as the best defense out on the ice is a strong camp. These cats must be brave and selfless, and always on alert for danger
Scout: Another large part of FloeClan’s warriors are the scouts. These cats spend their days keeping the territory safe. They go around and sniff out threats, and in conjunction with the water watchers, warn the Clan of incoming storms. These cats are speedy and observant, never missing a single thing. Typically a couple scouts will accompany the hunters when they leave, as they are useful for their advanced tracking skills and great bearings of their surroundings. It is also useful to have a cat who can quickly find their way home in case of emergency
Prey Gutter: These cats have an extremely important job: prey distribution. They take prey and remove the pelts to line nests with, and use the fat to feed hungry queens and kits. Some animals have blubber, which can be used to help cats stay afloat, or to insulate the den more. Some prey items are too large for one cat, so prey gutters split them into evenly-sized pieces. It is their job as well to monitor the food intake of the Clan, and make sure the cats who need it most get enough to eat. They are also responsible for removing bones and fur and burying them far away from camp. These cats are very good with coordination and precision
Water Watcher: Water watchers have a very important role in the Clan: predicting the weather. During the cold months, they function as scouts, observing the borders and watching for oncoming storms. But as the weather warms, they split off on their own to watch the ice. These cats pass down knowledge from generation to generation, techniques and skills older than most of the Clan cats. They function well as a team, and work alongside the leader, deputy, and medicine cat to decide when the Clan should leave the ice floes. When not performing duties outside of camp, they are responsible for learning the Clan legends and learning the hymns to tell the stories to younger generations
Trainer: This is a position with limited space, usually made up of cats who are extremely experienced, but not quite ready to join the elders yet. These cats teach the trainees all the basics required of a FloeClan cat; hunting, fighting, swimming, etc. They build the foundations that the other positions then use to build a warrior who can excel in their specialty. Their job is very important, because they are responsible for developing the skills of all the Clan’s future warriors
Trainee: Trainees are cats between the ages of 6-12 moons. They spend the first six moons under the Trainers, learning basic skills, before they are tested to determine which specialized position best suits them
Apprentice: Apprentices are cats between the ages of 12-18 moons, undergoing their secondary training in their specific role. Rather than being taught by one mentor, apprentices are mentored by all warriors in their specific position, so they can learn skills and strengths from every cat
Acolyte: Acolytes are the trainees and apprentices of the healers and seers. Selected at a very young age based on signs and omens from the ancestors, acolytes spend their entire year of training learning healing or omen interpretation. They receive occasional lessons from trainers, but their time is largely spent with their one or two specific mentors to learn their ways
Queen: Queens are she-cats who are expecting or nursing kits. This is not a permanent positon, as they only hold it for about six moons. Some queens even go back to their warrior duties at around three moons, when their kits are weaned
Kit: A kit is a cat who is less than six moons old. They are the Clan’s number one priority, and are looked after collectively. Young kits don’t do too much, but as they get older they are allowed (and sometimes expected) to help out with chores around camp. For the most part, though, a kit’s day will mostly consist of playing and early training techniques
Elder: These are cats who have done their duty to the Clan, and are now able to reap the benefits. Elders are treated with an incredible amount of respect for their service. Elders are not expected to contribute to the prey pile, instead their responsibilities lie in keeping the camp running and organized, and learning to sing the hymns of legend to pass stories down to the younger generations
Traditions & Customs:
FloeClan cats are very superstitious, and will often interpret everything as a sign from their ancestors. There isn’t a name for their collective ancestors, they are referred to as just that: ancestors, or warrior ancestors
Even during the warm months, FloeClan cats like to cuddle. On the ice, they sleep in a giant pile, keeping everyone warm throughout the night. Because of this, they often crave physical contact. Snuggling, nuzzling, and sharing tongues is done with every cat regardless of relationship
FloeClan only recognizes two seasons; the warm season and the cold season. The warm season is very short and spent on land, as the ice they live on is melted. The cold season lasts most of the year, and is spent on the frozen ice floes
With their fur being so incredibly thick, proper fur care is a must. Cats spend lots of time combing through their fur to keep it tangle-free, and are always willing to help a Clanmate with a stubborn knot or a hard-to-reach area
FloeClan cats hate losing, and can be very competitive
The entire Clan is a very close-knit community who place a lot of emphasis on caring for one another. They have a 'no cat left behind' policy
The different working groups within the Clan function almost as their own family units. They are extremely close with each other, sometimes even over their biological kin
These cats are incredibly proud and suspicious. Outsiders are very rarely welcomed, and must prove themselves before they can stay
It is acceptable to have kits with outsiders, but it is generally frowned upon for outsiders to join the Clan. it is believed they won’t be able to handle the harsh lifestyle and will instead be a burden, so cats that don’t belong to the Clan are usually avoided unless it is for the express purpose of having kittens- and even then the cats are often very choosey with their outsider mates, only wanting cats who they think will create the best possible future warriors
FloeClan cats are musically inclined. They have hymns they sing as a way to pass time and tell their legends. They celebrate the solstices and the equinoxes and have special songs for each. For celebration and ceremonial hymns seers are the singers while the rest of the cats keep the rhythm, and for legends water watchers are the singers. There is a song for basically every occasion
There are many prayers FloeClan cats say to their ancestors, and it is part of their training that apprentices learn all the most important ones. A typical prayer for good luck hunting is “Ancestors keep my claws sharp, my legs strong, my nose keen, and my eyes clear”
Every spring, FloeClan participates in a tradition called the Great Swim. When the ice melts too much for them to stay, they must swim to shore, and live there until the ice reforms in the winter. The journey is incredibly dangerous, because not only are there strong, cold ocean currents, there are also predators lurking all around. Blubber and fat is rubbed on the fur of kits, queens, elders, and apprentices, to keep them warm and buoyant along the way
The Clan lives on the mainland for the spring and summer, which are both fairly short. They use this time to fatten up and collect lots of herbs to take back to the ice
While large storms are difficult, FloeClan excels at making light of them. They all gather in the den with plenty of prey to wait out the days telling stories, singing hymns, and snuggling until the storm dies down
Cats in this Clan hate to be idle. Even elders who are retired from warrior duties still contribute and work within the camp to the best of their abilities. It isn’t uncommon for parents to return to warrior duties when their kits are weaned
FloeClan uses something called the covenant system. Two cats entering a covenant is basically getting ‘married’. During a ceremony initiated by the medicine cat they each draw blood from one another, symbolizing they are now as close as if they were blood. Cats in a covenant are loyal to each other above all others, save for the Clan as a whole
Typically a covenant is romantic, but they can be arranged as well. If a cat gets to a certain age without entering one, the medicine cats may have them enter one with another single cat in order to have kits. It’s seen as a duty to the Clan to have and raise kits, and so arranged pairs to produce kits is not considered weird for them. For arranged covenants, after kits are apprenticed there is an option to annul it if the cats are truly not compatible, but for the most part a covenant is for life
It is seen as irresponsible to have kits outside of a covenant, as the covenant is a promise both cats make to stick together, and without one the cats have no obligation to stay together and raise the kits. Due to their superstitious nature, it is also often believed kits born outside of a covenant will be cursed
To prevent unwanted kits, medicine cats will create an herb mixture to render the warriors infertile for a short period of time. While having kits is important and it is seen as a responsibility to your Clan to reproduce, proper planning is just as important, especially with the harsh seasons
All types of relationships are accepted, but cats who chose a same-sex partner may be frowned upon, as raising kits is incredibly important. Same-sex partners may still produce kits with another cat
When kits are born, big litters are very common. More uncommon however is an entire litter making it to apprenticeship. Life on the ice is unforgiving
Legacy naming is a fairly common practice in FloeClan. It is typical to see at least one kit per litter be named after a lost loved one in their memory
Kits’ names are kept private until their eyes are open and they can walk, where they will have a ceremony and be introduced to the Clan by their parents
When a cat becomes pregnant, both parents step down from warrior duties to raise the kits together. Raising kits takes a lot of time and effort, and the queens get as much help as they need
A rather unsavory part of FloeClan life is when a cat’s life is at its end. Elders who no longer wish to continue with the harsh life may join their ancestors earlier than they were intended to by ranging out onto the ice until weather or a predator claims them. This is an acceptable tradition, as the Clan cannot care for cats who can’t pull their weight in some way, and FloeClan cats hate to feel idle and useless. The cat leaving will be sent off with a hymn of honor for their sacrifice so their Clan may continue in their stead
Death a Clan member is a very hallowed time. After a cat dies, the whole Clan comes a standstill, and they grieve for four days and four nights - two days for the warm season, two days for the cold season - and only necessary patrols are sent out. The rest of that time is spent telling stories of the cat’s life, singing and praying to guide them to their new home in the afterlife, and providing support for their closest friends and family
FloeClan cats get water burials. While out on the ice the body is sunk in a seal-hole, and while on land the body is floated off the shoreline and out into the ocean
And that's all for now! It's likely I'll edit this post at some point, adding to some of the sections and the like. But this is it for the time being, and I'm so excited to share it with y'all! Please feel free to leave comments and send asks about this Clan; I will be so happy to answer any questions! <3
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Guide to FloeClan
Hey guys, this is the guide to my FanClan, FloeClan! I've been working on this guide for... well, literal years I suppose, as this all started from a roleplay I hosted a few years back on Wattpad. This Clan means a whole lot to me, and I've wanted to share them for a while now, and I hope to one day post some stories with this fun little cat culture that I've created. Enjoy!!
@cowcowwow
Summary:
Often believed to be a myth by locals, these cats are the source of many stories. They are quiet and ghost-like, drifting in and out with the seasons. Sometimes people search for them, out on the ice, but are never successful. Seeing one of these elusive ice-cats is often considered good luck.
Territory & Camp:
FloeClan lives out on the ice floes of the Arctic Circle, where polar bears and orca whales reign supreme
Ice floes are usually barren, but enough snow drifts around to make a small, ragged camp
They don’t have a specific territory, since marking borders would lead predators right to their camp. Instead they travel far and wide to find food and resources
Out on the ice it is often foggy, making the territory all the more difficult to traverse
When they make camp, there are no separate dens for ranks. Warriors, apprentices, queens, elders, and even the high ranks of leader, deputy, and medicine cat all share one den to keep warm. This den is built out of tightly packed snow and lined with animal pelts for bedding
While the cats all sleep in the same den, they build a separate ‘day den’ for kits to spend the day in. This keeps them out of the main den and out from under the paws of elders and warriors trying to grab some shut eye, and doubles as a private meeting area for important business matters
Appearance:
FloeClan cats are thick-furred, heavyset cats with large, sharp eyes and narrow faces
Likely descended from escaped Maine Coon kittypets, they are massive in size and stature
Their fur is double-layered, with a dark, dense undercoat and a lighter topcoat that is waterproof
The undercoat colors range to different colors of black, gray, and brown. The undercoat is always darker than the topcoat
The topcoat has a wider range of colors, including cinnamon, light ginger, pale gray, silver, and white. Few cats are pure white, instead often being patched or tortoiseshell. This lighter topcoat helps them blend in with the ice
Their fur is thicker around their face, neck, and tail. This keeps wind and cold away from their eyes and other places where heat easily escapes
The pads of their paws are thick and tough, hardened from the ice, with long claws to grip it better
Their legs are often slightly shorter than the average cat, to keep them lower against the wind and to help with stalking
Weight is hard to gain out here, with all calories going straight into survival. Instead they have a lot of muscle from vigorous training
Even with extra muscle, these cats are still pretty thin. They are hardened from the cold, though, because of all the extra fur
Most everything about FloeClan cats is stumpy or short. For example, their ears are small and rounded to keep them safe from the wind. The only exception is their tails, which are long and fluffy, used for balance, swimming, and keeping warm, and their muzzles, which are long to prevent the wind from battering their faces
The more fur, the more attractive you’re considered. Lighter colored fur is also more desirable due to its ability to blend in with ice and snow. Dark fur is considered extremely unattractive, even in small amounts
Eye colors vary, though darker colors are more common
Frostbite is a real issue out on the ice, meaning it’s not uncommon for cats to be missing toes, ears, and tail-tips
Scars are also a very attractive feature for these cats. Having scars shows that you fought for your survival and won, and are a sign of great strength and perseverance
Skills:
FloeClan cats have different positions in the Clan based on their individual skill set. However, the traits everyone shares include:
Swimming. These cats are powerful swimmers, with waterproof fur, large paws, and long tails. Despite their shorter legs, they are able to keep up with their incredible stamina.
Stamina is also a skill they all possess. Cats can walk for days at a time without growing tired, and swim for hours on end.
Keeping warm is super important out on the ice, and FloeClan cats excel at it. Thick fur, tough paws, they’ve got it all. They are also creative and resourceful, able to figure things out quickly to keep themselves alive.
FloeClan cats have a very good internal clock and compass. Living in overcast darkness for three quarters of the year will do that to you.
While guard cats are specially trained in fighting techniques, all FloeClan cats know basic moves to help them win against an opponent. Usually their threats are animals much larger than them, and they will work in tandem with their Clanmates to gain the upper paw in a battle
Positions & Roles:
Leader: The leader is the head of the Clan, who makes sure everything is running smoothly and orderly. They make all the big decisions, though usually with the help of the deputy and medicine cat
Deputy: The deputy is second-in-command, and typically holds almost as much power as the leader. They organize the Clan and help distribute resources. They also help handle minor disputes, while larger arguments sometimes have to go to the leader
Medicine Cat: These cats are very valuable out in the harsh conditions, with knowledge of how to help almost any ailment. They are usually adept at peacekeeping, and they bless mated pairs. Medicine cats are responsible for learning the Clan legends, and learning the hymns to tell the stories to younger generations. They are allowed to produce kits due to the limited gene pool, but are not allowed to take a mate. Any kits they have will not be theirs to raise, due to having to dedicate themselves to their Clanmates and ancestors
Warriors: FloeClan splits up its warriors into separate groups based on their skill sets. Each group has a different role and responsibility, though no one group is ever considered above the rest. The groups each have a Head, who is the leader of the specific group and is usually the eldest cat
Hunter: These cats make up the majority of the warriors of FloeClan. They are fast and good at stalking. They leave in large groups for days at a time, braving weather and predators, to find food for their Clan. These cats have to be tough and resourceful in order to find prey in the harsh environment. They also have to work well in a group
Guard: Guard cats are the biggest and strongest warriors of FloeClan. They are both the first and last lines of defense in the event of trouble, and their main purpose is to protect the Clan. When not guarding the camp, it is also their job to oversee repairs and construction, as the best defense out on the ice is a strong camp. These cats must be brave and selfless, and always on alert for danger
Scout: Another large part of FloeClan’s warriors are the scouts. These cats spend their days keeping the territory safe. They go around and sniff out threats, and in conjunction with the water watchers, warn the Clan of incoming storms. These cats are speedy and observant, never missing a single thing
Prey Gutter: These cats have an extremely important job: prey distribution. They take prey and remove the pelts to line nests with, and use the fat to feed hungry queens and kits. Some animals have blubber, which can be used to help cats stay afloat, or to insulate the den more. Some prey items are too large for one cat, so prey gutters split them into evenly-sized pieces. It is their job as well to monitor the food intake of the Clan, and make sure the cats who need it most get enough to eat. They are also responsible for removing bones and fur and burying them far away from camp. These cats are very good with coordination and precision
Water Watcher: Water watchers have a very important role in the Clan: predicting the weather. During the cold months, they function as scouts, observing the borders and watching for oncoming storms. But as the weather warms, they split off on their own to watch the ice. These cats pass down knowledge from generation to generation, techniques and skills older than most of the Clan cats. They function well as a team, and work alongside the leader, deputy, and medicine cat to decide when the Clan should leave the ice floes. When not performing duties outside of camp, they are in charge of the ceremonial hymns the Clan sings, and work on practicing them
Apprentice: Apprentices are cats between the ages of 6-12 moons. They are tested before their ceremony to determine which skill set best suits them. Rather than being taught by one mentor, apprentices are mentored by all warriors in their specific position, so they can learn skills and strengths from every cat. All apprentices are also taught the same basic skills of hunting, fighting, swimming, and survival techniques
Queen: Queens are she-cats who are expecting or nursing kits. This is not a permanent positon, as they only hold it for about six moons. Some queens even go back to their warrior duties at around three moons, when their kits are weaned
Kit: A kit is a cat who is less than six moons old. They are the Clan’s number one priority, and are looked after collectively. Young kits don’t do too much, but as they get older they are allowed (and sometimes expected) to help out with chores around camp. For the most part, though, a kit’s day will mostly consist of playing and early training techniques
Elder: These are cats who have done their duty to the Clan, and are now able to reap the benefits. Elders are treated with an incredible amount of respect for their service. Elders are not expected to contribute to the prey pile, instead their responsibilities lie in keeping the camp running and organized
Traditions & Customs:
FloeClan cats are very superstitious, and will often interpret everything as a sign from their ancestors. There isn’t a name for their collective ancestors, they are referred to as just that: ancestors, or warrior ancestors
Even during the warm months, FloeClan cats like to cuddle. On the ice, they sleep in a giant pile, keeping everyone warm throughout the night. Because of this, they often crave physical contact. Snuggling, nuzzling, and sharing tongues is done with every cat regardless of relationship
With their fur being so incredibly thick, proper fur care is a must. Cats spend lots of time combing through their fur to keep it tangle-free, and are always willing to help a Clanmate with a stubborn knot or a hard-to-reach area
FloeClan cats hate losing, and can be very competitive
The entire Clan is a very close-knit community who place a lot of emphasis on caring for one another. They have a 'no cat left behind' policy
The different working groups within the Clan function almost as their own family units. They are extremely close with each other, sometimes even over their biological kin
These cats are incredibly proud and suspicious. Outsiders are very rarely welcomed, and must prove themselves before they can stay
It is acceptable to have kits with outsiders, but it is generally frowned upon for outsiders to join the Clan. it is believed they won’t be able to handle the harsh lifestyle and will instead be a burden, so cats that don’t belong to the Clan are usually avoided unless it is for the express purpose of having kittens- and even then the cats are often very choosey with their outsider mates, only wanting cats who they think will create the best possible future warriors
FloeClan cats are musically inclined. They have hymns they sing as a way to pass time and tell their legends. They celebrate the solstices and the equinoxes and have special songs for each. For celebration and ceremonial hymns water watchers are the singers while the rest of the cats keep the rhythm, and for legends medicine cats are the singers. There is a song for basically every occasion
There are many prayers FloeClan cats say to their ancestors, and it is part of their training that apprentices learn all the most important ones. A typical prayer for good luck hunting is “Ancestors keep my claws sharp, my legs strong, my nose keen, and my eyes clear”
Every spring, FloeClan participates in a tradition called the Great Swim. When the ice melts too much for them to stay, they must swim to shore, and live there until the ice reforms in the winter. The journey is incredibly dangerous, because not only are there strong, cold ocean currents, there are also predators lurking all around. Blubber and fat is rubbed on the fur of kits, queens, elders, and apprentices, to keep them warm and buoyant along the way
The Clan lives on the mainland for the spring and summer, which are both fairly short. They use this time to fatten up and collect lots of herbs to take back to the ice
While large storms are difficult, FloeClan excels at making light of them. They all gather in the den with plenty of prey to wait out the days telling stories, singing hymns, and snuggling until the storm dies down
Cats in this Clan hate to be idle. Even elders who are retired from warrior duties still contribute and work within the camp to the best of their abilities. It isn’t uncommon for parents to return to warrior duties when their kits are weaned
FloeClan uses something called the covenant system. Two cats entering a covenant is basically getting ‘married’. During a ceremony initiated by the medicine cat they each draw blood from one another, symbolizing they are now as close as if they were blood. Cats in a covenant are loyal to each other above all others, save for the Clan as a whole
Typically a covenant is romantic, but they can be arranged as well. If a cat gets to a certain age without entering one, the medicine cats may have them enter one with another single cat in order to have kits. It’s seen as a duty to the Clan to have and raise kits, and so arranged pairs to produce kits is not considered weird for them. For arranged covenants, after kits are apprenticed there is an option to annul it if the cats are truly not compatible, but for the most part a covenant is for life
It is seen as irresponsible to have kits outside of a covenant, as the covenant is a promise both cats make to stick together, and without one the cats have no obligation to stay together and raise the kits. Due to their superstitious nature, it is also often believed kits born outside of a covenant will be cursed
To prevent unwanted kits, medicine cats will create an herb mixture to render the warriors infertile for a short period of time. While having kits is important and it is seen as a responsibility to your Clan to reproduce, proper planning is just as important, especially with the harsh seasons
All types of relationships are accepted, but cats who chose a same-sex partner may be frowned upon, as raising kits is incredibly important. Same-sex partners may still produce kits with another cat
When kits are born, big litters are very common. More uncommon however is an entire litter making it to apprenticeship. Life on the ice is unforgiving
Legacy naming is a fairly common practice in FloeClan. It is typical to see at least one kit per litter be named after a lost loved one in their memory
Kits’ names are kept private until their eyes are open and they can walk, where they will have a ceremony and be introduced to the Clan by their parents
When a cat becomes pregnant, both parents step down from warrior duties to raise the kits together. Raising kits takes a lot of time and effort, and the queens get as much help as they need
A rather unsavory part of FloeClan life is when a cat’s life is at its end. Elders who no longer wish to continue with the harsh life may join their ancestors earlier than they were intended to by ranging out onto the ice until weather or a predator claims them. This is an acceptable tradition, as the Clan cannot care for cats who can’t pull their weight in some way, and FloeClan cats hate to feel idle and useless. The cat leaving will be sent off with a hymn of honor for their sacrifice so their Clan may continue in their stead
And that's all for now! It's likely I'll edit this post at some point, adding to some of the sections and the like. But this is it for the time being, and I'm so excited to share it with y'all! Please feel free to leave comments and send asks about this Clan; I will be so happy to answer any questions! <3
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Hello! I loved Gideon the Ninth so much!! and would like to draw fan art, would you mind sharing any helpful summaries of what each character looks like? or must us fans hunt through the book for every offhand line of description? (not that I'm not planning on rereading it anyway)
I have let myself drift back onto Tumblr after two weeks, am deeply affrighted and excited at the idea that anyone has drawn my kids (I had an AMA on Reddit and as said there, my editor every so often hollered into my inbox about amazing shit people were doing, but I was too busy complaining back to him that my face had gone numb and that I no longer slept, but instead the darkness of the grave claimed me for four to five hours each night). Thank you so much to anyone who has already done this. Many people on my team have yelled and yelled.
Back early on in the piece I made a document for him about what characters looked like in terms of basic ideas/outlines for copyediting, covers and sense purposes, and I’ve dug out that document and slapped it up here for general delectation. As a note: I imagine specific things when it comes to my characters (I am a Kiwi: I write Kiwis In Space as a default) but as I have nothing but joy in my heart for how anyone would want to draw these characters, feel free to glance over this, then toss it out the window. It would bring tears of beauty to my eyes if anyone was like “Yes, but when I was reading I imagined Naberius Tern as a huge monitor lizard,” because absolutely yes, Naberius Tern was just a huge monitor lizard, godspeed.
I had only described below the specific cavalier-necromancer pairs, so that’s what you’ll find below, sorry if anyone wanted Teacher.
SECOND HOUSE
The only ones who seemed even vaguely compos mentis were the Second House: as it turned out, they had been the ones to call Teacher to the access hatch, and now they sat ramrod-straight and resplendent in their Second-styled Cohort uniforms, all scarlet and white. They both affected the same tightly-braided hairstyle and the same amount of extremely gilt braid, and also the same serious-business expression, and they could be told apart by one having a rapier and one quite a lot of pips at her collar.
Captain Judith Deuteros and Lieutenant Marta Dyas are alike in posture, bearing and extremely crisp military uniform (think a cross between US Navy whites and the Regency navy). Unlike every single other necromancer on the cast, Judith never wears necromancer robes, but is dressed in the exact same way as Marta. Judith is somewhat less completely scrawny than other necromancers on the cast, though she should be less built than Marta is; Judith is imposing, solemn-faced and reflective, Marta is more keen-eyed and restless. I imagined both as Tongan.
THIRD HOUSE
[Coronabeth] was tall and regal, with some radiant, butterfly quality – her shirt was haphazardly tucked into her trousers, which were haphazardly tucked into her boots, but she was all topaz and shine and lustre. All necromancers affected robes in the same way cavaliers affected swords, but she hadn’t tucked her arms into hers, and it was a gauzy, gold-shot, transparent thing floating out around her like wings. There were about five rings on each hand and her earrings would’ve put chandeliers to shame, but she had an air of wild and innocent overdecoration, of having put on the prettiest things in her jewellery box and then forgetting to take them off. Her buttery hair was stuck to her forehead with sweat, and she kept tangling a curl of it in one finger and artlessly letting it go.
The second twin was like someone had taken the first to pieces and put her back again without any genius. She wore a robe of the same cloth and colour, but wore it like a very beautiful shroud on a mummy. The cavalier had lots of hair, an aquiline face, and a self-satisfied little jacket.
Coronabeth is massive, taller even than Palamedes, larger-than-life – statuesque, very bright gold hair, golden/bright skin, violet eyes. Ianthe is the same height but gangly and washed out. Skin colour defined heavily in Corona’s case as golden/olive-hued brown/tanned; Ianthe similar, but less radiant/more pallid whatever the case. Both have long hair: Corona’s should be big and bouncy, Ianthe’s flat/sleek.Naberius is shorter than both, brown-haired (brown can be light, medium or dark, it’s not defined) and blue-brown hazel eyes. Also has lots of hair, cut short, but sense of pompadour/waves. I imagined all three as Pakeha/white.FOURTH HOUSEBoth Isaac and Jeannemary are around fourteen and have pretty much the same body shape still: Jeannemary is semi-muscular and has lots of corners, Isaac is skinnier. Both are natural brunettes, though Isaac has bleached hair (orange, fauxhawk) and Jeannemary is described as having curly hair. Both have multiple ear piercings and eyeliner and the visual is somewhat Glassons storecard punk. Both have dark brown eyes. Jeannemary has a somewhat dusty, fierce, monochromatic appearance (brown hair, brown skin), and I imagine her as Māori. Isaac I imagined as NZ Chinese.FIFTH HOUSEMagnus Quinn is a man in his middling to late thirties, with short, curly hair: he is a frank-faced, nice-looking guy of medium build with a face inclined to wholesome smiles. His outfits should be absolutely exceptionally well-tailored and not very flashy. Imagined him as Samoan. His wife Abigail is perpetually neat, wears round spectacles and has long, glossy dark brown hair – she is the least described of a cast not very specifically described. Much like Magnus, she should always be beautifully and tastefully dressed, though in her case she would affect trousers as well as a robe. Imagined her as Pakeha/white.
SIXTH HOUSECrouching in front of the hatch was a rangy, underfed young man: he was wrapped in a grey cloak and the light glinted on the spectacles slipping down his nose. Standing next to him holding a big wedge of broken sculpture and the flashlight was a tall, equally grey-wrappered figure with a scabbard outlined at her hip. She had hair of an indeterminate darkness, cut blunt at her chin.Up close, he was gaunt and ordinary-looking, except for the eyes. His spectacles were set with lenses so thick they could make spaceflight grade, and through these his eyes were a perfectly lambent grey: unflecked, unmurked, even and clear. He had the eyes of a very beautiful person, and the head of someone with resting bitch face.
Palamedes is seriously underfed with a bony, thin face and glasses: medium brown hair cut short and with no particular thought for aesthetics, dresses just in greys, eyes particularly lovely clear grey. Camilla has very dark cold-brown hair – chin-length, straight and with a fringe – dark eyes. She’s compact and has lots of lean muscle, and I imagine her of being Middle Eastern extraction, though due to Sixth House parameters both will be fairly mixed. They’re actually second cousins, so there ought to be a faint resemblance.
SEVENTH HOUSE[Dulcinea] was a slender young thing whose mouth was a brilliant red with blood: her dress was a frivolous concoction of seafoam green frills, and the blood on it seemed more somber against such a backdrop. Her skin seemed transparent – horribly transparent, with the veins at her hands and the sides of her temples a visible cluster of mauve branches and stems. Her eyes fluttered open: they were huge and blue, with velvety brown lashes.
Dulcinea is a girlish woman who looks extremely fragile and sickly, like a neurasthenic Victorian maiden. Eyes should be extremely blue. Hair is light brown in long curls; skin is pale. Pretty in a frivolous, invalid way. Gives the impression of being slight. Outfits should be gauzy and nightgownish. Imagined her as Pakeha/white.
The man who’d put the sword to her neck was uncomfortably buff. He had upsetting biceps. He looked like a collection of lemons in a sack. He didn’t look healthy; he was a dour, bulky young person, whose skin had something of the strange, translucent tinge that the girl’s had. He was waxen-looking in the sunlight […] He was dressed richly, but with clothes that looked as though they’d seen practical wear: a long cape of greyish-green, and a belted kilt and boots. There was a long, shining length of etched chain rolled up and over his arm, and a big one-handed sword hung at his hip.
Protesilaus is massive, buff, and also sort of sickly and indistinct-looking in his colouring – he is described as being made up mainly of muddy, ashen browns. Think Greek warrior, but with no vibrant colouring. Biggest on cast, even bigger than Colum Ash. Imagined him as mixed Pasifika.
EIGHTH HOUSEIt was a pair who were both boys – well – a boy and a man; one was a wan, knife-faced kid dressed in antiseptic whites and useless chainmail you could cut with a fork, it was so delicate. [Silas] was draped in it even down to a kilt, which was strange: necromancers didn’t normally wear that kind of armour, and he was definitely the necromancer. He had necromancer build. […] He gave the impression of being absolutely no fun at all. He was prim and ascetic-looking, and his companion – who was older, a fair bit older than Gideon herself – had the air of the perpetually disgruntled. He was rather more robust, nuggety, and dressed in chippy bleached leathers that looked as though they’d seen genuine use. One finger on his left hand was just a gross-looking stump, which she admired.
Silas is in his teens, has shoulder-length white hair in a braid and dark eyes. He has extremely pale skin, and coupled with the white robes and silver chainmail (all of which somewhat swamp him – he’s sort of slender and purse-mouthed) gives the impression of being arrestingly white all over. Pointy chin, oval face, disapproving expression, a little insubstantial. Colum, his older, larger nephew is much taller, broader and in his early thirties. He has medium brown hair in a short back’n’sides crop, dark eyes, and appears jaundiced in skin tone – he’s very weatherbeaten and tan-skinned, scarred, and though he’s dressed in the same colours he tends to contrast heavily with them and his leather armour is also beaten-up. He looks tatty and ill-used, expression is apathetic or forbidding; Silas always looks perfectly clean, crisp and white. Facially there should be a similarity. They’re both Pakeha, with Silas being significantly the palest person on-cast.
NINTH HOUSEThe light fell on [Harrow’s] painted grey face and black-daubed chin, and her short-cropped, dead-crow-coloured hair. […] She had such a peculiarly pointed little face, high-browed and tippy everywhere, and a slanted and vicious mouth.
Harrow is a scrawny teenage girl with black hair cut short (as befits someone in a monastery) and truly black eyes: she never appears except in black and white skull facepaint. She has a pointed, rather triangular face, not very long, a triangular heart rather than a triangular diamond or oval. She wears black robes and long-sleeved, long-trousered clothes – all black – with no skin showing: the main decoration on this is bones. She wears a corset of rib bones and could have any other bone decoration, which has been written of in the book as bone bangles and multiple bone stud piercings in the ears. She’s more femme-androgynous than outright butch; in Book 1 she’s a bit birdlike and free of specific masc or femme gender markers in terms of outfit or build. I imagined her as being mixed Māori.Gideon is true butch: tall of height – at least, taller than Harrow – extremely, shreddedly fit with the muscular arms of a swordswoman or boxer. She should have a strong-jawed, boyishly pretty face with a big douchebag grin. Cropped hair same as Harrow, except that hers as an oblate is more of an in-your-face mop (could be partly-shaved except that implies more care than Gideon possesses) and is intensely, vividly red. I envision her as mixed Māori, darker-skinned than Harrow. She also wears skull facepaint, though hers tends to be much less careful and baroque than Harrow’s. She often affects a pair of black aviator sunglasses. She wears the same black cloak as Harrow, without any decoration, and a plain black shirt and trousers underneath. Her eyes are an extremely vivid amber with more of a yellow/golden tint than a russet one.
#wild spoiler nobody cared about: camilla and palamedes are second cousins#am I allowed to go look at the art now or will I fall about and die of joy#gideon the ninth#appearances etc#I have not come back to the Internet because my inbox was full and I was afraid. Thank you everyone who has read my book.#Naberius Tern is a monitor lizard in a wig. I'm not good at this#reply#otonin
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Grounded Skies
A writing piece for @elektronx .
After being forced from the skies by the Turbuli, Scapes and Hights have had to adapt to life on the ground.
Read on Dragon Press
1926 Words
The jungle air hung thick and humid. Trees reached for the sky, each in decade-long races against their neighbours, competing to see who could claim the most sunlight. At the feet of the great trees lay the stragglers and the shrubbery. Yet more plants grew on the trees themselves - tangled vines and other parasitic growths. The density of this foliage made it hard for the air to reach the ground, but every now and then a faint hint of a breeze might touch the ground, each one resembling a breath - as if the forest itself were a living creature.
A gargantuan creature the forest may not be, yet it was still alive. Songs of countless birds, the humming of insects and cries of other animals sounded across the forest. Lives too numerous to imagine, each with their own struggles and desires.
In some places where the soil was not suitable for trees - whether not firm enough, ruined by shallow rocks or something else. In these rare patches where the sunlight touches the ground, grasses and shrubbery grew thick. In these gap in the foliage, one could sometimes even see enough of the sky that they could see the massive mountains looming over the jungle-filled highlands. Though they may not be desirable to many, there were scores of creatures who welcomed these spots of sun.
One such creature lay belly-up, soaking itself in the sunshine - it’s own patch of heaven. Had it not been so tragically grounded, this creature might instead have been one with the heavens at this moment. Smooth feathers once as white as the clouds, now ruffled and dirtied by life in the forest. Six long and slender wings that might never see the skies again. Yet, this creature was happy. It’s supple form lazily splayed across the ground. A serene expression on its face was accompanied by a healthy sky-blue glow emanating from the tips of the tendrils upon its neck, wings and tail.
Soft rustling sounded in the bushes at the edge of the clearing. The whispering of grass and leaves grew closer and closer, creeping towards the oblivious sky creature. All of a sudden, a stormcloud leapt from the tall grass - pouncing at the sunning creature. However, the white animal was not as oblivious as it might appear: in a flash it had flipped over and turned to face the storm which was now where the cloud had been moments ago. The storm appeared to be a creature much like the first, it's body and six wings bearing stormcloud coloured feathers and ending in lightning yellow tips. The two leapt at each one another, both tackling the other to the ground. An intense contest for superiority then ensued, grappling and rolling in the dirt and grass.
Ultimately, the storm-creature came out on top - pinning the other and staring smugly down at its captive. “I win again, brother.”
“But you’re older and bigger, Hights!”
The storm chuckled and got off her brother. “Yeah, yeah. Well done on your awareness though. I am gladdened that you are no longer completely unaware of your surroundings.”
“Hey!” The cloudy creature shoved his sister’s shoulder. “... thanks…”
“Come now, Scapes, it’s time to stop lazing about in the sun. I found a good fruit tree not too far from here. You need to eat something for that growing body of yours.”
“You’re growing too!”
“And I will eat too,” Hights stated. She took the lead.
The siblings left the clearing, weaving their way between the dense trees. In spite of the twisted and tangled depths, Hights still navigated true. In a short time, they had found the fruit tree - the bright colours advertising their ripeness.
With a nimble leap, the stormcloud stood amongst the branches of the tree. She reached for the nearest fruit, plucking them and dropping them to her brother below. He caught them, laying them in a little heap while he awaited her return to the ground.
Once she’d picked several of the largest fruit, she jumped down and grinned at Scapes. “Eat up!” The two gorged themselves on the sweet bounty of the forest.
“You’ve made a quite a mess there.”
Scapes gave his sister an impish grin, juice dripping down his chin and between his claws as he swallowed the last of the fruit. He flicked some of the juice onto his sister’s face.
“Oi! Now we both need to clean up in the stream, you rascal!”
Scapes snickered and scampered off into the bushes, his sister in hot pursuit: two bundles of energy dashing through the forest. At the stream, he turned heel and splashed Hights with water. She returned fire, soaking him. A war of water-artillery ensued until they both lay panting in the water.
After regaining her breath, Hights took a long draught of water. Once she was done, she climbed out of the stream and dried herself, making a point of splashing Scapes in the process. She quickly retreated out of the range of potential retaliation. She began preening, neatening her ruffled feathers. Scapes followed suit but only made a cursory effort to neaten his feathers.
“I think we should find somewhere to stay tonight before it gets too late. You ready?” Hights queried. Her brother responded with a nod.
The two then set off once again, this time at a slower pace, examining their surroundings for suitable nesting spots. They needed to find a tree or two that would be comfortable to sleep in.
Suddenly, Hights brought their exploration to a halt. She backed up until she was behind the bush she had just been passing, then motioned for Scapes to stay quiet and peek over the bushes. A creature was grazing the grass in a clearing ahead of them. The siblings were not at the edge of the clearing, but could still see the creature well enough. The creature held a seemingly meek appearance: long thin legs supporting a body covered in soft, wood brown fur. All except the horns. The head of this creature was crowned with great twisted and gnarled growths that appeared more like the roots of an upturned tree than traditional horns.
“These guys are patrons of nature,” Hights whispered, “I’ve seen them before.”
“Just like we’re supposed to be patrons of the sky?”
“Yeah… Anyways, it’s not going to try to eat us, b-”
“I guessed that.”
“But we should still keep clear. I’ve seen what they can do to each other. I don’t want to find out if the other one was going easy on the trespasser. Let’s go around.”
The two took a long path around the deer before continuing their journey through the highlands - around the base of the mountain proper. They found a few decent trees, but they didn’t find any good ones. Since they had time, they kept searching.
A bone-chilling howl was carried across the skies, emanating from the edge of the forest and piercing into the depths. Even the birds paused their previously constant song as the forest sat in a silent fear for some time. Precious seconds passed before the forest slowly came back to life. The siblings dared to move again.
“What was that?” Scapes’ voice quivered as he half-whispered his question.
“I don’t know.”
Another howl. This one deeper into the forest. And another, further up the mountain. Every creature in the forest knew what this meant. Even the creatures that were not of the forest knew on some instinctive level what this meant. None knew who it was, but someone was going to die today. The hunt was on.
Hights’ voice was strained as if she was struggling to breathe. “Run.”
The pair bolted, sprinting through the forest as fast as their suddenly very inadequate legs could carry them. Leaves and vines whipped their faces, shrubbery and branches scratched at them, but they did not care - they fled.
Howls rung across the forest.
Slow as it may have seemed to them at the moment, they still ran with lightning speed. In their rush, they encountered the horned creature from before - almost running into it, but instead tripping and tumbling to the ground in their panicked stop.
The howls called.
The creature had also stopped. It turned around and faced the siblings, seeming like it was getting ready to attack.
Other howls responded.
“We’re running away too! We’ll leave you alone!” Hights called to it. No reaction. “Scapes, run! I’ll distract it!” She flared up her wings, trying to make herself appear bigger while her brother ran off into the forest. She jumped around the creature, making ostentatious movements with her wings - trying to keep it too intimidated or confused to attack.
Another howl swept the forest in fear.
The horned creature decided that this fight wasn’t worth it, then ran. Hights did the same, running off in the rough direction that her brother had. She ran and ran. Even when the birds began to sing again, she ran. But eventually, she had to stop. She still wanted to run, but her body couldn’t take it. She collapsed to the ground, waiting until her breathing slowed once again.
As much as she wanted to curl up and lie there forever, she was more concerned about her brother’s well-being. She forced herself to stand up and begin walking. She realised she had no idea where her brother would have gone. Maybe to the stream? No, that was too close to where they had been. Maybe to where they had spent the last night? Probably not - they did their best to leave no traces of themselves where they stayed each night. Or perhaps he had headed up the mountain - their kind was meant for the skies, so he might feel safer there? Definitely not - some of the howls had originated there.
She had an idea. It was risky, but finding her brother was worth the risk. She would make a call of her own - one that her Windchaser tribe had done to locate one another from long distances in the skies. Scapes should recognise it if he heard it. It was similar enough to the birds that the howling predators would take notice of it. Hopefully.
Hights took a deep breath, then released a high pitched cry, followed by two shorter, lower pitched ones and a final high pitched note. She waited, staring at the gaps of open skies between the trees. The birds sung, the insects hummed, but no one answered her. She made the call again and waited again.
This time, an identical call responded. It was quite some distance away, but she started to move in its direction. She moved slowly and cautiously, repeating the windchaser call every so often - confirming whether she was heading the right direction. The responses were getting closer to her too.
When at last she found her brother, she felt a tenseness leave her body and her heart leave her throat as she embraced him. It felt like she had held her breath this entire time and could only breathe now that she had found him. The two did not need to exchange words - both felt the other’s relief.
Together, they set off at a calm pace - heading away from the mountain and probably away from the howling terrors. It was beginning to get dark, so they eventually picked a tree where they’d settle for the night. The sibling leapt up into the branches of the tree, making themselves a home where they would spend the night and surely be safe from the beasts below.
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The Price to Rise: Part 1 [Jimin | Prince Eric]
Word count: 6,362 words
Pairing: Jimin x Reader
Genre: Disney AU, fluff, angst
Moodboard
Prologue | Jimin | Jungkook | Seokjin | Yoongi | Taehyung | Hoseok | Namjoon | Jimin (The choice: Part 2) | Epilogue
POLL (ended 22nd July)
Links for alternate endings are at the end of the post!
Disclaimer/Copyright
It only takes a blink of your eyes.
Just one second, and you are here. Although to be honest, you're not sure where here is. It looks nothing like the office building you were standing in just a few seconds ago. All you know is that you're sitting at a long dining table all by yourself, and your head is feeling heavy. Not quite a headache, but enough to make you feel a little lightheaded. Thankfully, the feeling soon disappears.
However, before you can regain your bearings, a melodious, female voice calls your name. Your head swivels around to the right to see a beautiful woman with dark brown hair peeking over a corner into the spacious room.
"What are you still doing here? Jason is waiting for you."
Rolling your eyes, you answer, "I'm coming, Adella."
You have no idea how you know her name, or why you rolled your eyes. It's like an involuntary reaction. The internal panic within you intensifies when Adella comes out of her corner, revealing herself from the top of her hair to the tips of her toes. Which is what you would have said normally, except she has no toes. Adella's top half is all gorgeous – if narrow-eyed from irritation – woman, but from the waist down, she is a fish, covered in shiny, murky yellow scales.
Before you can freak out, you look down to see that the only difference between you and Adella is that your own tail is green in colour. A tut-tut comes from her direction and forces you out of your shocked musings. Pushing yourself out of the chair, you follow her out of the dining room, still absorbed in the sudden revelation. With the realisation that you're a mermaid comes the fact that you're underwater, yet you're breathing with no difficulty. Swimming along the hallways feels as natural as breathing, although you're sure that the way you're breathing now is anything but normal.
Your sister enters one of the doorways but you keep on going; somehow you know that this Jason is waiting at the entrance of the palace, and Adella is heading to her bedroom. Gliding towards your direction in a trance, you slowly piece the situation together. This has to be the work of the man you met earlier; the one who claims to be your fairy godmother and promises you romantic adventures. Part of you thought it was a joke, but there are only three possibilities that can explain why you're in this state: you're either dreaming, or he was actually telling you the truth, or you've gone crazy. You have no recollection of going to sleep and the prospect of losing your marbles isn't exactly thrilling, so you're inclined to believe that some magic is at work.
Apparently this magic has turned you into a mythical creature, complete with a new identity and memories to go with it. You suppose that you should be thankful that you get to keep your name, at least. Then you wonder if your new sea-dwelling family and friends' memories have been altered to integrate you into their lives. If you are now inhabiting someone else's body, and if so, where has the owner gone. If this is going to be permanent. The man who landed you in this predicament is nowhere to be seen though, so you have no one to ask. Plus, he did promise you romantic adventures, so you decide to go with the flow.
A feeling of resignation mixed with frustration fills you when you exit the palace and spot a young merman waiting just outside. He is persistent, having begged you to give him a chance even after being turned down in the past as your new recollections tell you. Considering that he is a good guy, and someone your father, the King approves of, you have reluctantly decided to give him the opportunity to change your mind.
As you let him steer you around the city, you experience first hand the reason you're not enamoured with Jason, good-looking and nice as he is. There's just no spark between you and him, his conversation bores you and most of the date is very awkward. If someone had asked you before you're thrown into this life what you would do if you're experiencing an adventure surrounded by merpeople in a city underwater, you would have answered that you'd explore and enjoy the journey. Now, equipped with the identity of the mermaid you're embodying, you find that this life is something that you're tired of. The activities in the marketplace, the colourful fishes swimming all around you, the architectural structures that make up the city don't impress you. You long for something else.
The funny thing is, now that you're submerged deep inside the sea, all you want is to return to land. It isn't something that your mermaid body has ever experienced, which may be the reason the idea attracts and excites you so much. You don't see any sense in waiting, so right after the tedious date is over, instead of entering the palace where Jason has left you, you wait until he's out of sight before making a beeline for the surface.
As you rise higher and higher, you realise that it's nighttime. Even through the darkness of the night, you can make out a large shadow looming into the water, silhouetted by bursts of bright lights that sparkle and fade, then explode again. Breaking the surface of the water amplifies your hearing and sight of the happenings that are going on above the water. You realise that the glittering lights are actually fireworks being launched into the sky from a massive ship. Sounds of cheering and merry celebration drift from the vessel into your ears. Out of curiosity you swim towards the ship and haul yourself aboard, taking care to stay in the shadows so you won't be seen. You're dying to know what's going on but you're strangely wary of these humans as you have no idea how they will react if they see you.
From your dark corner you can see a crowd made of mostly men laughing with their tall, thin glasses raised in the air. The reason for their celebration becomes apparent to you when they break into a Happy Birthday song. No wonder the occasion is marked so extravagantly; the people on the ship are commemorating the Prince's birthday. You lean forwards from your perch, straining to see the subject of the celebration among the men and women. Then the crowd disperses, and your heart stops beating.
Standing in the middle of the throng is the most beautiful man you have ever seen. His midnight black hair is a stark contrast against his fair skin, his face adorning charming eyes that are squeezed into crescents from his smile. The smile that pulls your attention to his plump lips, breathtaking in itself yet contradictory from the sin that is his body. His white shirt is unbuttoned just enough to give a tantalising view of the top of his hard chest, and tucked into black pants that fits snugly around his thick thighs, ending with polished black shoes. There is no denying that you're instantly attracted to him, yet it's something else that causes your soul to call to him. It's not just a physical attribute, but something deeper, yet you can't quite put a finger on it.
Your musings are interrupted by an older man who is leaning against the railing as he addresses the subject of your infatuation. "I wish you'd invited the princess along."
"Really? I was glad to see her leave," the young man chuckles, but you notice that his eyes have lost some of their warmth. "I'd rather celebrate my birthday with the people that I actually enjoy having around."
His response causes the other man to sigh. "Everyone is anticipating you to take a bride, Prince Jimin."
So this is the prince. Prince Jimin, you mutter softly to yourself, testing his name on your tongue. You like it. The name suits him, and knowing it makes you feel a little closer to him.
"I'm not going to marry someone just because everyone is expecting me to do so," Jimin says. There's no mistaking the annoyance that fills his voice now. "I'm waiting for the right girl." Before his companion can interject, he continues, "When I find her, I'll know. And I don't care how long it takes for me to find her." His tired note of finality tells you that this is not the first time the topic has been discussed. You agree with his sentiments wholeheartedly. You've always thought that if you settle down, it will be with someone you love. Of course, given that you hardly go out to meet anyone new due to your dedication to your job, the chances of finding that someone is close to nil.
Suddenly, your elation dissolves into panic when loud barks accompany the entrance of a large sheepdog. The dog prances around, much to some of the guests' chagrin before bouncing on Jimin, who laughs and gets on his knees to give the dog a rub. The scene floods you with even more affection for him, your concern forgotten until the dog sniffs the air in curiosity. You shrink further into the shadows as the creature bounds towards you, ignoring Jimin's calls from behind him. Before he can follow your scent to your hiding place, you turn and jump back into the water, hoping that no one will take it upon themselves to investigate the sound of the resulting splash.
A series of loud barks follows your exit, but before anyone can pay much attention to it, it's cut off by the sound of ominous thunder in the distance. The moment you hit the water, you can feel the change in pressure and temperature of the current, but the humans on board are only warned by the loud shout of one of the sailors; "Hurricane a'comin'!" Fear strikes your heart, not for yourself but out of concern for the people on the ship, especially the prince. The next rumble of thunder is much closer to you, and none of them gets much time to prepare before the storm hits.
Violent waves lap against you, attempting to push you away but you are determined to remain near the vessel in case something happens. It's hard to tell what's going on when the only sense left to you is your hearing, and you strain to hear for any clues as to everything that is happening. The sudden lightning that strikes the boat is akin to a sword plunging through your chest. Your eyes widen as angry red flames erupt, shifting the activity from the ship to the ocean.
A strong, authoritative voice yells out orders amidst panicked shouts, and several smaller lifeboats hit the water, holding passengers while the fire continues to engulf the enormous ship. The hurricane is generating brutal waves, causing the boundary between the water and the air to become nebulous, obstructing your sight, but you swim around the smaller lifeboats, all thoughts of keeping yourself hidden forgotten as you try to determine if Jimin is among them.
Dread courses through you when you realise that the person giving orders to evacuate is none other than Jimin himself, as his commanding voice is still heard on the burning transportation. He has managed to get his people to safety, but is searching for the dog. A pitiful whine tears at your insides. The poor thing must be terrified, and you wish you can do something, anything, but you are powerless. The chaos escalate when an explosion blasts through the ship, hurling Jimin and the dog into the raging sea.
Immediately you spring into action, ignoring the ringing in your ears that resulted from the eruption, drowning the gasps and screams of the people safe on the lifeboats. Once again you are reminded of the being you have turned into when you dive into the water and find that your vision is better submerged in its depth than it is in the air. Through the wreckage sinking into the darkness, you can see the hind legs of Max the dog being hauled into one of the lifeboats, but Jimin has been flung away farther than his pet.
It's too dark for the humans to find the prince through the pandemonium, but you can clearly see him descending deeper and deeper into the sea. You propel yourself towards him, looping your arms under his shoulders so you can pull him upwards. Hoping that he's still breathing, you decide against returning him to the other guests; opting to bring him towards the shore instead. Quietly you thank your lucky stars that you're now a mermaid, because there is no way you could have managed to pull this mass of muscles to the beach if you're in your old body.
By the time you drag Jimin's prone form onto the damp sand, you're completely exhausted. Your lungs are crying for oxygen and your muscles are aching from exertion, but you put your needs aside, concentrating on him. Once you've confirmed that he's still breathing, you pull yourself back, leaning on your right forearm as you admire the man before you. Dawn is encroaching upon you, the rising sun illuminating his beauty. He looks even more handsome up close. As you tenderly brush a lock of wet hair away from his face, laughter threatens to escape your mouth.
For you have finally managed to put two and two together. You really are in some unbelievable version of The Little Mermaid, and it seems that you are the titular character. Even though you love watching Disney movies and are now in the little mermaid's body, you cannot remember the exact words she sang in the movie, and you like to think that it's out of your own volition that you let the words fall from your lips in a sweet melody.
"Thrown into this world, I was lost and confused,
Resigned to play out the adventure planned for me,
But when I laid eyes on you, I realise I've been obtuse,
To this opportunity to escape from the only life I've known to be,
How can it compare? How can I bear?
The thought of living without you there,
As I look at you, as I sing this song,
I know this is where I belong."
You're unsure if it's your singing or the voices accompanied by excited barks approaching you that causes Jimin to stir, but you know that you can't risk staying with him. With great regret you turn your back to him and make your way towards a cluster of rocks to hide behind so you can observe the scene unfolding in front of you. You manage to conceal yourself just in time before a small group of people, led by the man talking to Jimin last night turn around the corner, following an enthusiastic Max. Apparently they've been using the dog in the hopes of finding his owner, a tactic that has proven to be successful.
Despite being obviously dazed and unsteady as he's helped onto his feet, Jimin's eyes are searching the blue expanse of the sea, telling you that he had heard, possibly even seen you. The thought makes you excited and nervous at the same time. As you watch him being led away from the shore, your resolve hardens. You know what you must do. The next step you have to take.
Without hesitation, you plunge yourself back inside the water, made murky from the storm. The temperature gradually dips as you swim towards the ocean floor, so intent on getting to your destination that you're surprised when Adella suddenly appears in front of you, halting your movement.
"Where have you been?" She demands.
You ignore her question. "I have to go to see Father."
"You're not going to ask him to let you walk among the humans, are you?" She presses, dropping all pretense. "I know what you did last night."
Her correct assumption gives you pause, but you find yourself without words. Luckily, she addresses your fears without you having to voice them out.
"You know Father will never allow you to interact with them," she continues. "He won't allow contact with humans. You know that."
"I have to try," you say, trying to convince her and yourself as you pass her.
"You'll only make him mad," she warns. "Why don't you ask the Sea Witch instead?"
Again, her words make you stop and reconsider. You know deep inside that there is no way that the king will accede to your wish to become a human. He will probably say that you're too young to understand, but your feelings have nothing to do with age. There is no mistaking the connection that you feel between you and Jimin. Despite being born here, you don't belong in the ocean but on land. Meeting Jimin only solidifies your belief in that fact. However, you do not wish to get into a row with your father, especially when you know that it will not end in your favour.
Satisfied that she has made her point, Adella leaves you to sit and ponder your options. If you're really in the Little Mermaid's world, meeting the Sea Witch will result in nothing short of disastrous for you, but it's becoming apparent that you have no other choice. Moreover, although you may be in her body, you are not the little mermaid. Ultimately you are still yourself. You're still free to make your own decisions, and perhaps you can change the course of the story. With your mind decided, you turn around and head towards a different location.
You fancy yourself an adventurer, yet the outskirts of Atlantica is not somewhere you venture into often. In fact, you've never gotten this close to the Sea Witch's lair before. The atmosphere of this place seems different; foreboding. Even the water feels significantly colder the further away you get from the center of the city. It does not deter you in the slightest, even when you see her home, which has to be the remains of a giant sea creature. You gulp at the sight and the thought of what you're about to do, but the moment of weakness goes by unheard by anyone but you.
Part of you expect to find polyps to litter the floor of the Witch's home, but thankfully the place remains empty of growth. The long hallway opens to a cavernous room, dark and mysterious, the ends of the space not visible to you, making you wary of unsavoury beings lurking in the shadows. Then someone does make an appearance, nearly making you jump out of your skin, but she doesn't look scary at all. Far from it, actually. The Sea Witch is nothing like you imagine her to be. Her long, platinum white hair swirls about her fair face, lending her a delicate aura, and her slim body ends in a graceful tail that matches the blue hue of her eyes.
You find yourself mesmerised by her beauty until she clears her throat. "What brings you here, my dear?" Her voice does not quite match her appearance; it's raspy and breathy, giving you the impression that she has not had the chance to use it for a very long time.
"I... I..." At first you feel foolish, but you push past your embarrassment to explain to her your predicament, ending with your wish to become human so you can find your prince.
"Can you do that?" You ask tentatively after you've finished.
"Easily," she replies with a dismissive wave of her hand. "You have to pay for it though. I don't grant favours for nothing, you know." Her lips curl into a smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes at that statement.
You nod your understanding. You suspect as much, and you're willing to pay the price to rise out of the ocean onto the land above. Jimin's land. That is your driving force, but it doesn't make this any easier.
"I can make you a potion that will turn you from a mermaid into a human for three days. Before the sun sets on the third day, this prince has to give you a kiss. A true love's kiss. If he does, you'll remain a human forever," she explains. "All I ask in return is your voice."
"Just three days?" Even though you've expected this, you still wish that she can cut you a better deal. "What happens if he doesn't kiss me within that time?"
"You'll just dissolve into sea foam," she answers almost cheerfully. "The payment is more than fair," she reasons. "Unless you can get what you want without me, in which case, be my guest," she gestures you to the door, a clear sign that you can take it or leave it. Now that it's time to make a decision, you find yourself having an internal battle of wills.
You're painfully aware that your voice is not the only thing you're potentially giving up. If Jimin doesn't kiss you within these three days, you will lose your life. It's not a pleasant thought, and not one that you would ever have considered before now.
Do you really want to put your life on the line for a guy you've just met, and never even talked to? The little voice in your head argues.
I've never felt that way about anyone before, you counter to yourself. Maybe this whole thing has driven me crazy, but this must be how true love feels like.
But are you willing to die?
What do I have to lose? Family and friends I've just met today? A life in the sea that suffocates me? My life back in the real world that is a monotonous nightmare that I've longed to escape from?
These questions make you realise that a chance at happiness is worth the possibility of dying. Seeing Jimin again, even for a few days seems like a more attractive prospect than going back to either your life now or your work-laden existence before this. Finally you agree, signing your name on a parchment produced by the Witch with a flourish. She gets to work immediately, pouring liquids from vials and minuscule creatures into a cauldron that hisses and smokes at random intervals. You watch her work in awed silence, remaining on your spot in the middle of the room until she produces a small bottle containing silver-coloured liquid.
"Now, the payment," she says, picking out a brown and white conch shell out of nowhere. You resist the urge to back away when she approaches you, forcing yourself to stay still as her long, spindly fingers gently massage your neck, coaxing your voice out of your throat. She releases it out of your open mouth, a wisp of golden smoke that drifts into the seashell, causing it to glow for a few moments before returning to its mute, unimpressive shades.
Taking the bottle that the Witch offers you, you convey your gratitude with a nod before racing towards the surface. In your hurry, you miss the figure hiding in the corner of the room, watching the entire deal being made with intense interest. As soon as you exit the chamber, she makes her way towards the Witch.
"So if the prince doesn't kiss her within three days, she dies?" Adella's shriek of worry would have touched you if she is not in cohorts with the Witch in the first place.
The Witch avoids her gaze, busying herself with putting all her potion-making ingredients away. "Don't worry. We mermaids turn into foam when we die, so what's the difference really? Either way, you'll get what you want, won't you?"
It's hardly reassuring, but there is nothing Adella can do to rectify the situation, so she too departs, leaving the Witch to muse the situation by her lonesome.
"It's never a bad idea to have one or two members of the royal family under your thumb," she cackles to herself.
You're blissfully unaware of the intentions of the two mermaids you have just left in the depths of the sea, only one thing in your mind as you break the surface of the water just shy of the seashore. The sun is blazing almost directly above your head, causing the potion in your hand to glitter like tiny diamonds. Taking a deep breath, you uncork the vial and drink all of the concoction in one gulp.
The mixture may look magical, but its effects feel extremely unpleasant. Torturing, actually. Pain shoots through your tail as it splits into two, turning into legs, but your screams are muted by your lack of voice, which is fortunate. The transformation can't have taken more than a few seconds but the agony it puts you through gives you the impression that you're being tormented for hours. Thankfully once the change is complete, the pain fades away so that when your newly-formed feet hits the shallow sand beneath the water, all you can feel is the coarse grains underneath them.
It's not just the recent transformation that leaves you feeling vulnerable and unprotected, prompting you to wrap your arms around your body, but the fact that you're now completely naked. You lower yourself into the water to hide your exposed body, your eyes scanning the beach for something, anything to cover yourself with. The only option available to you is a bundle of sails bunched up against the beach, washed ashore by the waves.
You rush out of the water to wrap the fabric around you and not a second too soon, for just as you cover yourself, a volley of deep yaps greets you just before Max appears from the side of the cliff and knocks you off your feet. The sail is large enough that the tussle between you and the dog doesn't expose your nude form, which is a blessing because his yelps are soon followed by a rush of apologies. Tilting your head sideways to get away from Max's lapping tongue, you lay your eyes upon the person you've been dying to meet – Prince Jimin.
His own eyes narrow as he tries to place your face. "You look familiar. Have we met?"
Nodding eagerly, you push Max off of you with Jimin's help, opening your mouth to explain yourself. The full force of the price you have paid hits home when not a syllable comes out, no matter how much strain you put on your throat. Heart sinking into your stomach but unwilling to give up, you quickly locate a stick so you can write your story down. Jimin's face falls when he realises you can't speak, but he indulgently follows your every move, full of anticipation. However, when the end of the stick touches the sand, you pause.
Alarm bells ring in your head when you realise that you don't know how to write. Unbeknownst to you, with the form and capabilities that you have inherited from your new body, you have also gotten her illiteracy. You look up at Jimin's confused face, dismay etched on your own as your plan crashes before you can even act on it. As he cannot understand your plight without an explanation, his only source of information is your expressions. Luckily, he takes pity on your obvious distress.
"You must have gone through something horrible," he concludes. "Come on, let's get you back to the castle."
Although your scheme has been cut short, you can't help but let yourself lean against his side as he leads you up the narrow staircase from the beach into the castle's keep. The castle rests on the edge of a cliff that cuts off sharply into the open sea below. Normally you would look around the building with a lot more interest than you're showing now, but Jimin's warmth radiating directly by your side keeps your attention focused solely on him. Every moment that passes sets your belief even more firmly that he is meant for you. There's an innate bond connecting you and him, a link that is ineffable, too complicated to describe with words. You make your way through the castle in silence, and from the intense way he's looking at you it's obvious that he feels it, too.
Jimin is reluctant to let you go to the maids, but he's forced to do so as it would be inappropriate for him to do their job. After Jimin leaves, they set about their work to help you get out of your makeshift clothing, bathe and dress you in proper clothes. Their whispers and gossip regarding your sudden appearance do not go by unnoticed by you, but you ignore them. Their words do have some truth in them, after all. You are not a princess in your real life, and even though you're the daughter of the sea king now, who would believe you, even if you can explain it?
So you spend most of the time letting your mind wander where it wants to, and of course it goes to the only person you can think about since you've been here – Jimin. The thoughts of him and worrying about the next few days keep you occupied until you're done, by which time the sun is already setting. A maid directs you to join Jimin and the older man you've seen in his company before, and you learn that his name is Grimsby.
There are only the three of you at a long table meant to hold more guests, and the two men have decided to utilise only one end of the table, with Jimin sitting at the head and Grimsby on his right. Jimin gestures for you to take a seat on his left with a sweet smile, and you oblige with a grin of your own. Although the looks that Grimsby is shooting you are far from hostile, awkward silence fills the air as the three of you stare at one another. You're not saying anything because of obvious reasons, but it seems they are at a loss as to what to say as well.
Then the absurdity of the situation dawns on you, and amusement wells up inside. Figuring you have nothing to lose, you allow the mirth to bubble over the surface, resulting in a mute giggle. Even though you cover your mouth, your chortles are obvious and it causes Jimin and Grimsby to burst into laughter themselves, breaking the tension.
"Where do you hail from, dear?" Grimsby asks, wiping a tear of mirth from the corner of his eye.
Your laughter dies upon hearing the question. Where do you even begin? Essentially you are a visitor from a completely different world, in a different time. Perhaps you should introduce yourself with your current identity as a mermaid, which is laughable in itself, since humans have no idea of their existence. It doesn't matter either way, because you can't voice out anything. Maybe I can try mining it?
Before you can attempt to mime your answer and possibly make a fool of yourself, Jimin comes to your rescue. "Are you from around here?"
You shake your head, grateful to him for giving you a way out. Grimsby suggests that Jimin take you out to show you the town, and Jimin perks up at the idea. "It sounds like fun. Don't you agree?"
Your enthusiastic nod is all that is needed for Jimin to decide that he will bring you with him the very next day. The conversation picks up naturally after that. Jimin effortlessly makes you feel included in the conversation, despite your inability to contribute to it, and tactfully asks you yes or no questions that you can easily answer, and Grimsby follows suit. Weirdly enough, you feel welcome, not out of place at all, and you thoroughly enjoy yourself as the chat goes on for hours. The food has come and gone, and it's already time for bed when Jimin calls it a night.
To your delight, Jimin walks you all the way to your room. He sometimes breaks the silence to comment on paintings that hang on the walls or the random vase and trinkets, but most of the time both of you remain quiet. Neither of you feel uncomfortable or unnerved by the lack of words though; Jimin's presence calms you like a person you've known forever. It's only upon reaching your door that you start getting nervous, wondering if you should chance kissing him, or if such a move is too soon.
Just as Jimin is about to turn away, you reach out for his hand, but ultimately your nerve fails you and you start to pull away. You're sure that he doesn't see your movement, yet out of his own volition, he whirls back to face you, grabbing your outstretched hand. Before you can register what has just happened, Jimin kisses your cheek quickly, as if trying to overcome his own anxiety so he can pull it off.
"Good night," he wishes you in the softest of whispers before pulling away, his cheeks pink with embarrassment. You're not much better off yourself. You can't remember when was the last time such a chaste peck on the cheek has left you blushing to the roots of your hair and so excited you can hardly wait to enter your room so you can jump in happiness. His wish comes true; as your dreams are filled with happy endings with him.
After breakfast the next day, Jimin spends the morning giving you a tour of the castle. Compared to your merman father's sprawling palace in Atlantica, it is quite cramped. Other than the staircase that leads to the castle keep that Jimin and you entered through the day before, another one opens to a dock on the eastern side of the castle. Even with your limited knowledge, you can appreciate the design that makes it difficult for the castle to be breached. Near the dock is a hall, where Jimin says most of the public activities are held. He then shows you an area north of the hall, impressing you with lines of cherry trees that decorate the walkway. It may be your second favourite part of the castle, the first being Jimin's private garden that he made for himself. He invites you to sit at the gazebo so you can admire the garden while he talks about the work he has put into it. You're touched by the fact that he's sharing something so personal with you, a space that is only used by himself and Max. The other parts of the castle are not as impressive, but you cherish the look on Jimin's face as he happily shows you around every part of his home.
After the bizarre date in the underwater city, the town Jimin takes you to in the afternoon isn't impressive by any means, but it's still peaceful and lovely. Most of all, you enjoy being by his side, a date you'd never dream of having in your drab, work-oriented previous life. Your voice is a small price to pay for the joy that comes with Jimin but it saddens you that he doesn't even know your name. As if he read your mind, he comments with a sigh, "I wish I knew your name. I don't even know what to call you."
In a stroke of brilliance, you clap your hands in excitement as an idea strikes you, capturing Jimin's attention. You look around the town square, then points at an object that shares the same first syllable of your name. It takes some time for Jimin to figure out what you're up to and for you to find suitable items around you to use, finally ending with him persuading you to sit as the two of you play this impromptu game, but in the end he manages to learn your name.
"Y/n," he confirms. "I love your name."
You beam, metaphorical flowers blooming inside every time your name rolls off Jimin's tongue in his sweet, melodious voice. He repeats your name several times just so he can see your smile grow wider and wider until you both dissolve into laughter and he leads you through his castle to get to his private shoreline.
Jimin laces his fingers with yours as you stroll along the beach, his face reddening as he does so, but when you squeeze his palm in encouragement, he slowly relaxes and keeps his hold on you. The breeze pulls your hair out of the style one of the maids has tugged it into this morning but you don't mind, especially when Jimin wordlessly uses his other hand to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. He sits you down on the sand next to him facing the open sea, so the wind blows gently against your face and gives you the courage to rest your head against his shoulder. His thumb rubs against your hand idly as you enjoy each other's company.
Nothing has ever felt so right, so natural, as being with Jimin. Nothing has to be done, no words have to be said, just his presence gives you a sense of completion. Suddenly he breaks the silence by murmuring your name. You lift your head up to look at him already staring at you with his dreamy eyes, but he doesn't say anything. Instead he leans closer, his grip on your hand getting tighter as his full lips hover mere millimetres away from yours, and you let your eyes close. The sounds of the waves lapping the shore are drowned by the beat of your heart thumping loudly in your ears as you await his kiss, but it never comes.
Confused and disappointed, you open your eyes. Once again you feel as if you've hurtled into another dimension. Jimin is no longer in front of you. In fact, you're quite alone.
Where am I?
The poll has ended! Thank you for choosing Jimin as the reader’s choice!
Prologue | Jimin | Jungkook | Seokjin | Yoongi | Taehyung | Hoseok | Namjoon | Jimin (The choice: Part 2) | Epilogue
Alternate Endings: Jungkook | Seokjin | Yoongi | Taehyung | Hoseok | Namjoon
#btssunshinenet#bts writing squad#armiesnet#noonanet#bangtan bookclub#BTSDisneyAUCollab#bts scenarios#jimin scenarios#bts fluff#jimin fluff#the price to rise#kawaii jiminie
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Do As I Do
Short story inspired by Vincent Van Gogh’s, A woman with a spade, seen from behind painting
"Do as I do," The lady prompted. "Just like this." She buried the spade deep within the first layer of soil, twisting and pulling out a large sum of dirt. Tossing it to her side, she repeated the process with ease. Many years of fieldwork had engrained the tender care into muscle memory, hard work seemingly effortless to the lady nowadays.
The little brown haired boy with freckles like snowflakes huffed in frustration. He furrowed his untamed brows, arms like sapling branches swinging the spade. "Mama, please let me play with Lucille and Wesson," He half-whined, sidelong eyes glued onto his two friends playing in the distance. "My arms are sore and the day is almost done. At least let me be with them until the sun's set."
The mother stopped what she was doing, planting the tip of the spade into the soft ground and leaning against it. She looked towards the horizon and the sun with a couple more hours of light left. "Home before sun set, yeah?" She asked skeptically. The boy nodded eagerly, legs practically vibrating in excitement. His mother paused to think, chewing her lip thoughtfully. It wouldn't get cold until much later and he was exceptional at returning safely on time. Worst comes to worst she could finish the farm with his help tomorrow morning.
"Just be safe, alright?" She said. "And Rudy, don't do anything stupid."
Rudy practically jumped to the heavens in excitement. He threw his arms around his mother, burying his face into the worn, mulled apple scented fabric. She patted her son's back taking out a cut rag. With her index finger, she pushed the boy's chin up to look her in the eyes. Round eyes like a storm at sea looked back beaming with joy. The dusty and dirty face was no match for the stormy current in his eyes. They were always the brightest feature of Rudy. Round cheeks and smooth skin gave off the impression of youth, but underneath the boy was a tempered storm filled with life.
"You have to be presentable for your friends." She mumbled, cleaning her son's dirty face up with the rag. Most kids his aged didn't do chores as daily and strenuous as his. Granted most kids at his school came from families with more than enough, whereas his small family could get by if their luck was just right.
Her son squirmed under her grasp, shrugging away from the rag and slipped past her fingers. He pulled up his sleeves, adjusting his collar all while walking backwards.
"Gotitloveyou, bye!" His words rushed out, mind already set on playing with his friends. He twisted around and ran towards the silhouettes of his friends, uneven and clumpy soil making his run that much less graceful.
"Be back before the roosters!" The protective mother called out to him.
"What took you so long? We've been waiting for ten minutes!" Wesson complained as Rudy hopped the weathered fence onto the side road. The two Aryan children, both clean and filled waited for the farm boy to reach them.
"Sorry, my mom was being overprotective again." Rudy lied. It wasn't that he was ashamed of his mother, he just didn't want to seem like a measly farmer's boy in front of his friends. Lucille and Wesson came from a wealthy family. Their father was the owner of a oil company, while their mother was a successful lawyer travelling all parts of the country. Needless to say, they had money.
"Don't worry, Rudy," The quiet voice of Lucille spoke up. "I think it's great that your mother cares for you so much."
A rosy blush crept up on both the girl and the boy, eyes adverting to the ground in unison. Wesson rolled his eyes in annoyance, groaning. "Well I think it's lame and knocked off like two hours for us. Let's go to the forest before we waste any more time."
The boy and girl snapped from their infatuated like trance, following the blonde boy down the road. By the time the trio got to the edge of the forest the sun was just about to set, morning animals settling in for bed, whilst the nocturnal were just waking up. With a simple rock, paper, scissors they decided who would be "it." The two Aryan children running into the woods, leaving the farm boy to count down from ten.
Rudy's known these woods since he could walk upright. Climbed every tall tree he saw and explored every animal nest he could find. As far as Rudy was concerned, this was his fortune. It was something no oil company or lawyer could ever dream of obtaining. A true sense of adventure every time he step foot in the woods.
"Nine…. Ten!" He finished, "Ready or not, here I come!" The boy took two steps forward just starting to run. As soon as his foot lifted off the mushy ground, it caught on the edge of a stone, toppling his balance. He fell to the floor with an ’oof,' scrapping his elbows, however recovering as quickly as a hummingbird. The boy scrambled back up milliseconds later without stopping to survey any cuts or scrapes.
Rudy took off running, booking it into the woods. All around the noises of the forest were echoing, his loud breathing, twigs and leaves crumbling at his feet with each stride getting progressively longer and slower. Four minutes later he was in the heart of the forest, stopping to check his dark surroundings.
"Wes!" He called out with his hands cupped around his mouth. If he had to guess, they'd either be hiding up and tree or behind a fallen log. "Lucille!"
What he didn't expect was the surprisingly loud wail of Lucille's voice coming from his left.
"Rudy!" That was Wesson's too.
Were they hurt? Did one of them step in a bear trap or touched a snare? He should have warned them that hunting season had just started a couple of days ago. Traps were littered all around the forest by now.
"I'm coming!" Taking off into a run, Rudy followed the cries of his friends. He jumped over a thin creek where he had caught his first frog with his mother, and passed a great big willow tree deemed his first official treehouse. The woods seemed to get darker as he ran, obscuring his sight to barely a couple feet ahead.
As the voices of his friends grew louder, so did his anxiousness. He was so caught up in fear for his friends, that he didn't notice the small flash of silver close to the ground in front of him. Oblivious to the obstruction in front of him, Rudy tripped forward, tumbling down a steep incline.
He finally hit the bottom, landing on his right shoulder. The unbearable, burning like sensation travelled down his arm, making him see only white briefly. A small pair of hands grabbed him swiftly, thankfully avoiding his limp shoulder. The hands rolled him over and he looked up through the pain to see Wesson and Lucille.
The siblings were sporting minor injuries, however Lucille seemed to be cradling her wrist more gingerly than the rest.
"Well great, now we're stuck." Wesson groaned. Something Rudy figured he did a lot. Rudy craned his neck to look around, they appeared to be in the middle of a massive construction sized hole. Each wall to high too jump and grab and too steep to run up. "Stupid over here-" The Aryan boy gestured to Lucille. "Thought it would be a smart idea to hide down here."
"I thought there was a way out." Lucille mumbled guiltily staring at the floor. "Besides, you're the one that pushed me!"
"And you're the one that grabbed me on the way down!" Wesson bickered back. This wasn't getting them anywhere. Arguing back and forth would just tire them out and annoy each other. Rudy highly doubted that the constantly sibling bickering would force the hole's walls to fall apart.
The farmer's boy got up minding his limp shoulder and planted his two feet firmly into the ground. "Guys!" He interrupted. The sibling's mouths shut abruptly. "Fighting isn't going to get us anywhere. We have to figure a way out."
Wesson crossed his arms, a frown etched onto his face. "The only way out is up and even then it's too steep and tall to climb."
"Then we wait for someone to look for us."
"Our mom is out of town in some big city for a court case and our dad's in America trying to get a business deal signed. The only other person in our house is our maid, but she only comes in the mornings." Lucille eyes grew hopeless and round as she informed the two boys of the bad news. Her bottom lip wobbled in trepidation, tears bubbling in the younger girl's eyes.
"It is okay, Lucille. My mom will notice we aren't back yet. She'll come to look for us."
Wesson snickered, "Lemme guess, after she milks the cows?"
Rudy brushed the comment aside, attention set on the much more compassionate of the two. "Lucille, are you hurt?"
She nodded quickly, showing her cradled wrist to Rudy. "I think I broke it." The skin around her bone was swollen and tender, her hand hanging loosely. "Every time I move my hand it hurts." She murmured.
Rudy studied her wrist, gently tracing his fingers along it. He apologized when she winced in pain, furrowing his brows. This was hopeless, his shoulder might be dislocated, Lucille's wrist is broken and Wesson was uncooperative per usual. What could he do in a situation like this? It wasn't like there was a first aid kit laying anyway in the hole. If his mama was here, she would be able to tell him what to do, she'd help him.
"Do as I do." His mother's soothing voice rang inside his head. As if the old door was unlocked, Rudy suddenly remembered months back when one of his horses had broken its leg. It was in the middle of a snow storm and neither of them could go out to buy the supplies needed to help the horse.
Instead, Rudy's mother had grabbed some fabric, tape and a sturdy wooden board. She had made him watch as she tended to the horse, his body shivering from the cold and complaining about why he had to be there.
"The world won't always work around your needs, Rudy. Sometimes you have to adapt to the situation you are given to fit yourself." She explained patiently. He remembered her motioning to come in closer to watch she wrap the horse's leg. "We're all a part of a big picture… and sometimes things go wrong, but that doesn't mean it's the end of the world."
"Y'know…" Rudy started off slowly, Lucille looked to him hopeful. "My mama once taught me how to mend a broken bone."
"Mama?" The Aryan boy questioned critically.
"You do?" The Aryan girl said in amazement.
Rudy nodded, "She taught me after one of our horses broke their leg."
Branching off, Rudy searched for a couple of different size branches. Once he gathered some up, he brought them back to the others, ripping a long piece of his sleeve in the process. There wasn't any tape nearby so he'd have to improvise. Untying his boot, he pulled the string out from their hoops.
After some trial and error, Rudy managed to comfortably secure the branch and fabric to Lucille's thin wrist. It wasn't much, but it would work until someone found them. Halfway through, he had gotten Wesson to help with what he couldn't do with his dislocated shoulder. The Aryan boy had quieted noticeably through the process, possibly succumbing to guilt.
Finally Lucille admired Rudy's work carefully, looking back up to him. "Your mom's pretty cool." The praise forced a sheepish smile out from Rudy.
"Thanks, she is pretty awesome."
Fortunately for their luck, only an hour later did the rustling of movement above catch their ears. They all looked up in surprise, catching sight of a light beam.
"Mama?" Rudy called out hopefully. The light got brighter and soon the figure of his mother appeared holding a flashlight. She teetered on the edge of the hole, peering down.
In all her calloused fingers, scruffy appearance and dirt and worms glory, it was the best thing Rudy's ever seen.
The farmer looked down at the kids, a sigh of relief and small smile escaping her lips. "Do as I do, or else the roosters might beat us back."
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