Jun 10
Please come home, my baby.
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Please come home, my baby.
your oc as a flower
tagged by @thesummerstorms @rookamell and @talonrook 💚 i took 806 years because i truly couldn't think of a fitting flower until i looked thru my camera roll and saw a small periwinkle patch lol
Fiore di morte Vinca minor (small periwinkle, creeping myrtle, or flower of death)
originally associated with graveyards, and thus the dead, for its ability to thrive in shady conditions and poor soils. now its adaptability has become a symbol of strength and resilience. blooming in early spring, periwinkle has also been connected to blossoming friendships and sentimental memories. while it's extremely toxic to critters (part of the dogbane family Apocynaceae) it has been used medicinally for centuries for vascular conditions by boosting blood circulation.
unfortunately viago has a bad reaction, instead of lowering blood pressure it seems to raise his ;) must be all the other poisons causing issues. periwinkle is also highly invasive lmao "The species has few pests or diseases outside its native range and is widely naturalized as a result. Once established, it is difficult to eradicate." so good luck getting rid of her (altho i think we can apply this status to most rooks LOL)
i genuinely think everyone has been tagged so i'll get y'all for the next game. one i'm thinking about starting >:3c muwahaHAAHA then i'll KNOW who to tag
OC As A Flower
(thank you @blackwall-my-tiny-husband for the tag. Tagging @seaglassmelody @davrinsleftpectoral and anyone else who wants in if you have the inclination/time - actually, if anyone wants more tags on things drop me a note. I know it's like part of how these things work, but I always feel weird tagging folks without permission so to speak.)
Amara "Rook" Ingellvar - Chamomile
Energy in Adversity/Tranquility, Peace, Calm/Mindfulness
Often credited with a variety of medicinal properties - a healer, like a spirit mage.
Highly valued when dried, used as part of mumification in ancient Egypt - death and what comes after, for the Mourn Watch
Delicate flower, but believed to be a hardy plant that would help other plants near it thrive, also thrives in a variety of environments - the eternal fixer of everyone else's problems, surviving against ridiculous odds
Ancient, with references to the plant and its use in ancient Egypt, Greece, Rome - technically, Amara was born in ancient Arlathan so...
Makes a great tea - 🫖
DCA OCS!!! Here are my babies :D
I finally made Moomins ocs. Flower and Mudstick.
Flower is a young girl who only speaks to certain people. Growing up she was always snapped at and told to shut up, until one day she decided to stop speaking altogether. Now she lives on her own and spends most of her days gardening, she has a wonderful garden.
Mudstick is a boy that came out of the forest one day, Flower gave him food and he stayed. They consider each other siblings and care for each other a lot. Often times if Flower needs to say something she'll whisper it to Mud and he'll repeat it. Loudly. He loves to talk, and play in the mud. He cannot brush his hair. Don't try.
Family tree for the weasel family <3
*click for detail*
Chapter Three
Smudge was waiting for him when he stepped out of the forest, pacing the ground beside the fence. The black and white tom’s tail twitched anxiously, and he sniffed the air every few seconds. Rusty waited a few moments before brushing against a tree to warn his friend. He'd been practicing his stalking the whole way back, trying to make as little noise as possible, and if his friend was too nervous to notice that he was there then something must have worked.
“Smudge!” He called out. His old friend turned, rightfully shocked, and barrelled toward him.
“Rusty, thank God! I thought you weren't coming back!”
“I said I would. I couldn't just leave you all without a proper goodbye.”
“So you are still leaving.” Smudge grumbled, ears drooped.
“I have to get out of that house, Smudge. There's nothing left for me with humans.”
“Your humans love you!” Smudge objected.
“They love the thought of me, sure, but they need better training if they ever want to keep another cat.”
“Well their hearts are in the right place.”
“Hopefully that's enough for the next one they come across to be content. As for me, I'm going to live with the wildcats!”
“Then we better sound the alarm, old friend, because there's no way the old gang will let you go that easily.”
____________________________________________________________________
The pair scampered across the fences and scratched at doors and yowled loudly. It was the middle of the night, so predictably enough when the call was taken up, their fellow cats were tossed from the comfort of their beds into the backyard, where Rusty and Smudge awaited them. This happened seven times: Twice for Rusty's mother and sister, Nutmeg and Princess, who looked exactly alike.
Once for a kithood friend of Rusty's called Snake, a dark brown tom with weird dots all over as well as Rusty's own tabby stripes. He was a bit older than the rest, closer to Nutmeg’s age than anyone else.
Three times for a group of littermates who had managed to stay together against all odds. Their names were Flower, Stripes, and Melon. Flower was a bright yellow tom with amber eyes, Melon was a she-cat, a ginger tabby, like Rusty but with yellow eyes, and Stripes was a red she-cat with black stripes all over.
And one last time for Jake, the cat Nutmeg knew to be Rusty's father.
He didn't come out, but a black tom with a white paw and a purple collar (with a dog's tooth hanging out!) was tossed out into the yard, along with a orange, brown, black, and white she-cat with the same blue eyes as the tom.
“Good evening, Blackie, is this your new sister?” Nutmeg called gently into the yard.
“I found her on the street and she was looking for Jake. Apparently her mother is convinced that Jake is her father.”
“Depends on who her mother is. Come along, you two. We have much to discuss.”
“In the middle of the night?” The tortoiseshell snorted.
“Rusty has grown into his own and we have a choice to make.” Nutmeg explained. “Would you like to sit with the rest of us?”
“Certainly.” Blackie dipped his head and grabbed the younger she-cat by the scruff before leaping toward the fence. She squealed as they bumped against it but Nutmeg adjusted Blackie’s grip. The three of them landed on the ground in almost perfect harmony, and the younger she-cat twisted out of Blackie's grip.
“This is Patches.” Blackie offered. “If we don't find Jake and she doesn't feel like staying here, she'll be coming back with me.”
“Ah yes, you do lead some of the city cats. How is your group, son?” Nutmeg asked as the five of them walked down the stone path to the meeting place. Blackie's eyes lit up as he spoke of the group, with Patches chiming in every now and then with tales that her mother had told her.
The walk didn't take long, and eventually they turned down an alley to find the remainder of their group.
Nutmeg took up a place between Princess and Snake, while Blackie settled himself and Patches beside Flower and his littermates, greeting them each kindly in turn.
Smudge sat at the front of the circle with Rusty beside him.
“We've called you all here because Rusty wants to live in the woods.” Smudge announced.
“You want to do what?!” Several cats chorused.
Nutmeg stepped forward with a heavy sigh and stared at her son.
“You're absolutely sure that this is what you want? You're not just doing this to please your father?” She insisted. “Because if you're unhappy with the housefolk then I'm sure Blackie would be more than happy to be have you in his group.”
“This is what I want. I want to learn to hunt for myself without having to worry about my food being snatched. I want to learn to fight in a place where everyone looks after each other, and I know you're trying to fix what Scavenger did to the city cats, Blackie, but I really don't think I'd fit in with any of them. They're a bit…”
“Too rough?” Patches scoffed. “You don't have to tell me twice.”
“Exactly! I can actually do some good with these forest cats. I can make my own way at my own pace! And mom…” Here, Rusty rubbed his head against Nutmeg's chest. “I'm not just doing this because Jake met a forest cat. He found his place among the house cats. Maybe I'll find mine in the forest.”
“Alright, sweetheart.” Nutmeg murmured, licking her son's forehead.
That was apparently a cue for everyone to start crowding them with licks and nudges and mews of “we'll miss you!” And “kick some tail, Rusty! You'll show those wildcats!”
Rusty felt more at home here than he ever did with the housefolk… but everyone here had someone to lean on, and he needed to find his place.
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Sunrise found Rusty and the rest of his family still sleeping in the alley, and it was Blackie that woke him.
“When do you meet those forest cats?” His older brother wondered.
“Sunrise. What time is it now?”
“Sunrise.” Blackie's whiskers twitched.
“I'm late!” Rusty squealed, shimmying from between Smudge and Snake and bolting for the front of the alley.
“Rusty?” Nutmeg called.
“I'm late, mom!” He yelped as everyone clambered to their paws.
“Alright, alright. Let's go. I need to meet these forest cats before I let you go anywhere.”
“Mom!” Rusty whined. “You didn't need to meet the housefolk your owners gave me to!”
“Oh yes she did.” Snake cackled. “She got reassurance that every single one of her kits was going to a good home from all the neighborhood cats. Just let her come with you, Little Red, or Jake and me will never hear the end of it!”
“Alright!” Rusty grumbled. So Rusty, Nutmeg, and Blackie set off to a tired chorus of “goodbye” and “good luck.”
____________________________________________________________________
It didn't take them long to get to the treeline behind Rusty's former home, but nobody was there. Blackie crouched and opened his mouth, prompting Rusty and Nutmeg to do the same. The black tom was unsurprised when two cats jumped down from the trees.
“Sorry we're late.” The unfamiliar one was a white tom with yellow eyes.
Nutmeg straightened up instantly.
“Cloud?” She whispered gently.
“Cloud’s with his housefolk, Nutmeg. This is a forest cat.” Blackie murmured, tapping her flank with his tail.
“Right, right… my apologies. It's just that you remind me of one of Rusty's littermates. He got taken to a good home, of course, but I haven't seen a pure white cat in quite a bit.”
“Of course.” Lionheart dipped his head acceptingly. “May we assume that you are Rusty's mother?”
“Indeed I am. I want to make sure he'll be alright with you. He explained your proposition, so I know that it would be like moving away would for any other cat, but will he eat well? Sleep alright? Are there cats his age there?”
“There are kits around, yes, and cats like yourself who take care of them all. When Rusty reaches six moons-.”
“The sixth full moon passed for my boy not even a week ago. Does that mean he learns your ways?” Nutmeg pressed on.
“Yes it does.” Lionheart acknowledged, genuinely surprised. “He'll learn how to hunt and fight, but he won't be fighting until he's got enough training.”
“What is there to fight over?” Blackie wondered. “Surely you haven't encountered any of my city’s cats?”
“You sound like a leader.” Whitestorm narrowed his eyes.
“If you ever hear the name Scourge, then you know who to look for. Rusty is my brother, but I live in the town and learned how things run. Your cats would do well to stay away from the town, though. The cats there have some adjustments being made.”
“We appreciate the warning.” Whitestorm dipped his head. “And there are three other groups that reside in the forest. We claim our territory and keep our food just as they do, but sometimes there are boundaries crossed.”
“And fighters uphold these boundaries… interesting. Do you hunt as well as fight or are those two separate duties?”
“We teach every cat both concepts, save for medicine cats, who work with herbs and are taught only to hunt.”
“You have a cat that heals others?” Blackie blurted out. “One designated cat? Whose job it is to keep others healthy?”
“Yes… would you perhaps like to see for yourself?” Lionheart wondered.
Blackie shook himself out.
“Thank you for answering my questions, but I have my own group to run. I came to ensure my brother's safety and now I have.”
Nutmeg and Blackie both nodded to the forest cats and Nutmeg nuzzled Rusty before the forest cats disappeared, taking the young house cat with them.
Howdy, I love ur oc Flower. Shoe orc some love! Have she faced any prejudice because of her race. Also, is she one of those people that when faced with giant or scary animals, she just coo at them and find them cute
Thank you! I’m glad so many people are interested in her!
Flower has faced a fair amount of prejudice due to her race, and being the outgoing and kind person she is, she sometimes finds her natural kindness being taken as trying to trick someone or as a threat. It hurts her that many find her kind as irredeemably evil or cruel and such prejudices have gotten her and her loved ones in trouble quite a few times. But Flower refuses to let hateful people change who she is and continues to be outgoing and kind, even if it does nothing to change other’s opinion of her. She refuses to sink to their level of hatred. She knows she’s better than that.
As for terrifying creatures? She absolutely coos over them and finds them adorable. More often than not, she’ll try to befriend the creature. And it often works, much to her friends surprise.