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Giavonna "Nonna"

Anothers trash is my treasure.
Anothers trash is my treasure.
Rustclaws
Major
6
2
Freshkill
0
Pronouns
She/Her
Played by
Scarlet
Character Hub
LINK
Said I heed you, your every need
My heart, my liege, mi capitán

.

Nonna squinted at the heap in front of her. A half-sunken machine, three rusted cans, and a hunk of melted plastic. The fattened flies buzzing overhead seemed satisfied, but Giavanna had higher standards than heat and rot.

"Bah. No personality in this batch," She muttered, prodding a can with a claw and promptly wrinkling her nose. Where was the real treasure? The spools of metal, the jingly toys, the shiny nonsense. The no-furs were holding out on them this week, clearly.

She turned, sweeping her gaze across the crew. Her eyes narrowed on one of the younger cats with a greasy sock half-hanging from their mouth. She cringed watching them try to inhale it like a starving baby bird. "Idiota! Spit that out right now or I'll be burying you with it!" She snapped, hobbling forward to snatch it away. The major sighed with a disgusted wiggle of her paw as the soggy article was discarded. "That is not a snack."

Giavonna gave them a long stare before she moved off, wholly unconvinced that they wouldn't try so again. Over the years, it never ceased to amaze her the sorts of things these idiot children were willing to devour. The current batch was not even all that starving! Oh, but if they could fit it in their mouths, to them, it was no different than a fresh mouse.

A little farther off, another was digging with more purpose, tail flicking as they unearthed a scattering of dull screws and scrap. Nonna wandered over, limping slightly with each step.

"What've you got there?" She hummed, leaning in over their shoulder to inspect the efforts of her workers, as any collector of fine goods should.

Speech, thoughts/emphasis


132 MOONS
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RUSTCLAWS
🌣
SONG
🌣
bio
 
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Gaia stepped quietly, her pale form slipping like smoke through the morning light. Sharp brown eyes scanned the clearing, dispassionate, observant, missing nothing. Her ears caught the soft rustle of movement ahead, the scent of rot pricking faintly at her nose. There, by the edge of the camp, stood her mother watching with a familiar stillness as one of the younger cats rooted through a pile of trash, half-buried beneath windblown leaves and torn cloth. The sound of rummaging was loud in the otherwise quiet space.

Gaia paused.

Her expression didn't shift, though the slightest twitch of her ear betrayed her thoughts. She watched the scene for a moment longer, gaze unreadable, before stepping forward with measured grace. The weight of her presence was like cold stone settling into the air, never hostile, but impossible to ignore. As she approached, her head turned briefly toward Nonna. A nod, not too low, not too casual. Just enough to say: I see you. I respect you.

" Good day, Mama. " she said, voice quiet, clipped, yet not without warmth. It carried only to those meant to hear it. Her attention returned to the cat digging through the refuse. Her ears swiveled forward, sharp and alert. " What is happening here? " Not accusatory. Not gentle either. Just a calm question wrapped in expectation.

  • "speech"
  • GAIA she/her, rustclaw, sixty-seven moons.
    a fawn point with low white, brown eyes / lean and graceful
    field medic
    peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / always tag @lionharted
    penned by lionharted↛ LionheartedPhoenix on discord, feel free to dm for plots / click for toyhou.se
 
Time to get busy,
such a lot to do!



BRICK, He/Him / 27 moons / Rustclaw - Scrap Collector
A scrappy cinnamon tortoiseshell with low white, has messy whiskers and blue eyes.
He doesn't talk about his birth parents.
Be warned, he will build something. It might not be great, but he will build it.
Tagging [@]

Rummaging through another nearby pile of new bitsies and bobs, Brick carefully inspected each and every piece as he yanked it from the heap in no particular order— it was a miracle that the mound of stuff hadn't just sunken in on itself or fallen over! "No... No... Hmm. No." He huffed, it was so boring to get material intake like this. But he wouldn't be a Scrap Collector if he quit now, he had to sort through this pile, it was part of his job!

"Uuuuggh, this blows! Where's the fun stuff, the useful stuff?!" After eventually sorting through the pile, Brick ultimately found little of note. Well... Okay, maybe some of these bent nails, old soda bottles and one single bucket could be useful for traps or an intruder rattler. "Aw maa​aa​an..." He pouted and swiped dejectedly at the ground where the pile was only to uplift a grime soaked dusty rag with some things hiding under it.

Brick's eyes lit up with excitement this time, as these were some more interesting items! "Yippee!!" His focus was locked onto a strange lump of very dry fabricy stuff with a bunch of broken teeth attached. "Ooooh..." Batting at it, a smaller treasure was revealed, a grimy duck toy that was barely used! "Neat!" Finally, there was... A shadowy thing that looked to only be part of something as there was a breakage at one end. Taking a look at the dark square, Brick wondered what he could do with this? It could be good for hiding stuff!

That was, until Nonna had taken interest in his work. "Hi Nonna, hi Gaia!" Brick gave a toothy grin, happy to see them and even happier to show what he had found. "I've been rummaging! Other than some stuff for traps or a new rattler, I found a weird dry thing with busted teeth, a floaty ducky and a piece of darkness on a bendy stick."


Building
and
fixing

'til
it's
good
as
new!
 
———————————— What a waste, what a waste to be so alone. ✦


Rachet was long used to the hullaballoo of the junkyard, her home, listening absently to Brick rifling through the piles of stuff as a small smile pricked at her face. Some of these cats were foolish or over the top. While there was a point she found Brick's constant nattering frustrating, she knew better now that he's well-intentioned and surprisingly good company, so she didn't mind hearing his muttering to himself.

In the meanwhile, she sniffed the heap she had claimed for search, a habit now, after her run-in with some foul-smelling and burning liquid that had destroyed much of her skin and fur, only saved from her siblings' medicinal knowledge. It was something she often warned her fellow scrap collectors of, especially the younger lot who looked to join the ranks, lest they end up like her. Her scars were a story of her resiliency, though, so discussing them wasn't something she shied about, but staring warranted a swipe. There's a fine line between curiosity and plain rudeness, but the Rustclaws knew better by now than to be rude.

Pawing through the heap, her smile widened seeing one of the soft squares, it took some heft to drag it out, but the molly managed to without causing a collapse. The outer casing was muddied, caked in grime, and likely why it was tossed, but pressing a paw against it confirmed it had the white moss-like fibres inside they could harvest for bedding, maybe she could check with-

Her eyes flickered up, hearing more voices and just the cat she had thought of. She bowed her head in a respectful manner with a kid smile upon her maw - though her scars always seemed to contort them into a what seemed to be a scowl, though most cats knew her better than to ever treat their Major with any kind of disrespect. "Good morning, Nonna."

She spoke warmly, as if to her own kin. Nonna was more than just a leader to the Rustclaws, but a guiding warmth they could follow, as long as they stayed respectful. "I've managed to retrieve bedding materials, if you would need any, I can bring some to your nest once it's broken down." Her voice hummed, Rachet's appearance made her seem deceptively harsh or fearsome, and while she could be abrasive on a bad day, she truly cared for the Rustclaws and would always seek to benefit her friends, kin and superiors where she could spare it. They had all given her and her siblings a home, and it felt as if it was the least she could do.

Though her eyes were caught by something, reflecting in the sun, black and round. Attached to something softer-looking. A warmth spread to her eyes as she looked away for just a moment, paw darting into the junk pile, she gingerly retrieved one of the plush critters that often scattered the junkyard, in surprisingly good condition, too. "And something for the next bundle of kittens that the Rustclaws will raise." She placed the thing down delicately, looking like a ragged little raccoon kitten, the beady little eyes staring up at her as she looked between Nonna and Brick, rather curious what had brought their Major here.

  • Rachet
    ✦—Rustclaw Scrap collector | ~30 moons
    ✦—She/Her
    ✦—"SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
    ✦—A longhaired flamepoint with teal eyes and significant scarring.
    #f2e679
 
Said I heed you, your every need
My heart, my liege, mi capitán

.

She craned her neck, eyes—creased with age—examining what he'd found. Much as Giavanna liked to think of herself as a jack of all trades, she had long since accepted that she lacked the knack her scrap collectors possessed for finding all manner of shine and salvage. The eyes of cats like Brick and Rachet were far sharper. Age had dulled her vision, just one of many tolls paid in exchange for surviving as long as she had.

But her ears? Her ears worked just fine. She didn't have to turn to know whose paws approached—their confidence upon approaching is enough of a hint. The quiet storm that was her daughter's voice only confirmed it. Giavanna tilted her head in greeting, blinking softly in kind.

"Good day, my little thorn." She hummed affectionately before turning her clouded gaze back to Brick. "Ah, the twolegs have left us another bounty. I hoped to add to my collection today but it is… ahh." She wrinkles her face with disappointment and shakes her head.

Features smoothe as she addresses her scrap collector. "Brick here possesses the raw talent for finding useful bits and bobs that I do not." Her voice was warm with praise. Nonna turns her attention back to his finds. One item bristled with dull, metal teeth—some kind of shredded pelt-tatter. Another, a grimy duck, brought a spark of amusement to her eyes. She stepped closer, pawing at the filthy thing, giving it a little squish… but what caught her attention most were the 'pieces of darkness'.

"These," She murmured, extending a paw to hook the strange item with her paw. "These black things the twolegs wear over their eyes…" She pulled it free from the grime, holding it up and then gently draping it across Brick's nose. "Why I cannot begin to guess." She spent a moment trying to straighten the bendy bit, but it still sat crookedly across his muzzle. Giavonna leans back and gives an amused snort. He looks silly. "I would love to see whatever contraption blooms from your mind involving these, Il mio costruttore."

Nonna turned, her soft gaze settling on Rachet before trailing down to the bedding material she brought. Another fine offering—soft, dirty but not too damp. It would make her nest that much more comfortable. "Always so thoughtful, sweet Rachet." She rasped, her voice like sun-warmed gravel. "If you would do that for me, dear. I would be grateful."

The next item she is presented with—a grime-dulled plush with wide, beady-black eyes. Nonna's head tilted, smile widening as she leaned in to inspect the thing more closely.

Would you look at that! What a darling thing~" She coos, delight dancing in her voice. "A shame we've no bundles of joy to spoil yet..." Nonna chuckles, brushing her tail affectionately along Rachet's shoulder. Rachet may have looked imposing, but the girl had heart. Most of her children did, even if they hid it behind teeth and scars. "No matter—we'll tuck this little one away until the day comes."

The major tilts her head, giving the ratty toy one last thoughtful glance before turning to look at her daughter. "Gaia, I don't suppose you plan to give me any grandkits anytime soon, do you?" Giavonna chimes, batting her lashes at her daughter.

Speech, thoughts/emphasis


132 MOONS
🌣
RUSTCLAWS
🌣
SONG
🌣
bio