by /nyx. » Mon Aug 16, 2021 3:26 am
entering for adopt 1
Username: /nyx.
Name of Shadow Cat: Morgeár [mor-gey-are]
What does this kitty do in their free time?
The dark tinkerer, they called him. He was too small, too robotic. Too unnatural for their liking.
In his workshop nestled in the mountains, he chipped away at his latest project. The rusted gears struggled to turn, the small feathers threatened to molt.
The dark tinkerer Morgeár growled. Usually, metal parts jumped to do his bidding. He had a gift, even if the other cats were terrified of it. Mechanical bits reminded them too much of humans, and all cats faced the instinctive fear of humans. Thus, their horror of Morgeár.
Perhaps it was the feathers. Feathers and metal didn’t mix. But the feathers weren’t replaceable, not this time. For the wings of a hawk, the needed feathers. For the wings of a bat, he needed flesh. Feathers, unlike flesh, couldn’t rot.
Morgeár is a mechanic. He does it for pride, for money, and for himself. It’s his hobby. Anything else he gains is just a bonus.
Despite other cats’ fear of him, some are desperate enough to commission him. A soul for a metallic monster, jewels for a new tail. That sort of thing.
Morgeár’s never failed. Which is why it’s so important that he completes his latest project. Not only will the prize be worth it; his pride is on stake. No one has ever combined metal and life before. Morgeár will be the first to do it.
entering for adopt 2
Username: /nyx.
Name of Shadow Cat: Ideon [ih-di-yon]
How did they get their wings?
Ideon has always wanted to fly. For as long as he remembers, he’s wanted to fly. He wants to feel the wind beneath his wings, to fly through the clouds, to jump and never again touch the ground.
As time goes by, it becomes less of a wish and more of a craving.
He flings himself from trees, from cliffs. He speaks to bats and eagles, promising riches in exchange for their wings. (They call him crazy. They cannot—do not want—to live without wings. They threaten to eat him if Ideon comes back again.)
And as time goes by, the craving turns into obsession, into an impossible desperation.
“Give me wings and I’ll give you the scales of a dragon,” Ideon promises to a dark tinkerer he meets in the crooks of a mountain.
The dark tinkerer thinks, calculates. A rainbow flashes in his veins. “Are you friends with a dragon?”
The answer is no, but Ideon says yes.
“Lies,” the dark tinkerer snarls. “I’ll give you wings, and you work as my servant.”
Ideon wants, no needs those wings. Of course, against all common sense, he says yes.
