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#Renames
redux-iterum · 27 days
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If a cat moves clans and a cat in their new clan shares their prefix, does the newcomer keep or change their name?
It varies. Usually, both cats will keep their name, but the newcomer changing it isn't rare. Like with suffixes, a new prefix can be considered a good way to firmly root yourself into the new Clan. It's understandable if you're attached to your prefix, though. Whichever Clan you come from, it was the very first thing that belonged to you alone, so it can feel pretty special and can be hard to let go of. That's one of the few things a Clan welcoming in an outsider is willing to accommodate as a facet of your old life.
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strelles-universe · 7 months
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Fireheart -> Cardinalfire
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warriorsredux · 1 year
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Not sure if you still do these anymore, but uh what would you rename Sasha and Tadople if they’d (or if Tadpole had the chance) joined the Clans?
Tadpole is an easy one - just make that his prefix. Tadpole-, at least in my current traditionalism, works out just fine as a name, and he is black as a tadpole. There's not much in the way of notability for him, aside from certainly not being a -stream, but he's described as the biggest and strongest of the siblings. I'll go with that and say he's as good of a fighter as his father, making him Tadpoleclaw.
Sasha is an interesting case, because she appears to be a pointed cat, and pointed cats darken as they age. I feel like at her point in life that we see her, she could be given a brown name, like Shell- or Rush-. Shell- is lighter brown, while Rush- is golden-brown. Either one I feel works. For suffix, I think she could be a -heart, given her beliefs and actions in her story, even when she has to stand up to Tigerclaw, which no one likes to do. Shellheart or Rushheart aren't too bad.
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shinewonder · 6 months
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had the time of my life with the movie
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la-esmerqlda · 9 months
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I would like to thank Elon Musk for breaking the stereotype that “high functioning” autistic people are geniuses, because he’s genuinely so fucking dumb I can hardly even fathom it.
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illufinch · 2 months
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happy lunar new year!
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tumsozluk · 1 year
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School renames itself after England's Harry Kane!
School renames itself after England’s Harry Kane!
Getty Images Harry Kane is the captain of the England squad at the World Cup 2022 in Qatar The World Cup is now in full swing and fans all over the UK have been showing their support for England and Wales. One school in Norfolk has been getting into the spirit in a rather unusual way. Formerly known as Howard Junior School, it’s now been renamed ‘The Harry Kane Junior School’ after England’s…
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woetoy · 3 months
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glass frog tummy smooches~
now you're talking
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nyctophorum · 10 months
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I love the film version of nimona but I do find it very funny how they’re like ‘ambrosius cut off ballister’s arm but he didn’t mean to 😢😢😢 he was just traumatised and reacting to a dangerous situation 😢😢😢’ whereas in the comic it’s like ‘ambrosius shot ballister with a laser canon that took off his whole fucking arm just because he couldn’t bear to lose lol. Lmao, even’
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tripleefs · 3 months
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One of my fav og sbi moments thats not in any compilation vids since it takes place over the course of a heated mexican lmanberg negotiations stream and completely off camera...
(I finally compiled it myself because I couldn't find it anywhere and for your viewing pleasure!)
Edit: keeping this up for technoblade crumbs but f wilbur soot
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Bonus:
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redux-iterum · 1 month
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If a cat grows up to be big and they have a prefix that either implies (like Ant) or states (like Tiny) that they’re small, will it be changed? Or would it just be like an inside joke. “Yeah, that’s Antflower… yeah, she’s ginormous, it’s funny”
Generally, not often. They can request a name change, certainly, but most cats are attached to their prefix and want to keep it. There's a range to it, of course - if you're a big cat named Tiny-, you may be compelled to ask for a different name, where Ant- at least has the right color defined by it, so you're more inclined to let it slide. Some cats just think being tall and named Tiny- is funny, others want to honor their parents by keeping the name they gave them... it varies.
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crystallizedtwilight · 3 months
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Ok that last post Made Me CRY 😭😭😭 but I’m so happy that they came from pretty loving families! Like Barrel’s brothers looked like they loved him a lot! And Shock had all the love and support in the world! (Like they celebrated for a week!!!) and Lock’s parents also seemed pretty caring too (Lock’s dad’s arm around his partner and their baby Lock IS EVERYTHING.) ❤️
But it leads me to the question…did they have their names at birth? Or did they get them after they were separated?
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Lock -  Eli (ee · lai), meaning “elevated”
Shock - Amaranth; also called Amara or Amy by coven (a · mur · anth), meaning “the unfading flower”
Barrel - Brayden, called "Baby Bray" by brothers (bray · den), meaning “broad”
[x]
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roversrovers · 2 years
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another-goblin · 7 months
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A little self indulgent Wriolette
(made before 4.1 so I've got no idea what's Wrio's personality or what's their actual relationship haha)
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ghouljams · 7 months
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Viking soap! Viking soap! Viking soap!
Grrrrrrrr Yes ok yes because I am feral for this idea and you're partially engaging a special interest of mine.
You spot him at the same moment he does you. A flash of blue eyes reflecting the shallow river, long hair shorn short on the sides, the fur the edges his clothes marks him as easily as the paint on his face. A viking. He stands as quickly as you step back, his eyes fixed on you. If he's here there must be more at your village. You know well enough that these men don't travel as solitary creatures.
You turn and run towards your home. You hear the crash of him through the forest behind you giving chase. Even knowing the land as well as you do the terrain is uneven, the roots are made to catch your feet, and the branches are low to obscure your vision. You don't have the deer's advantage of darting movement to keep you out of reach. Each step you can hear him getting closer, until you feel his hands grab you.
The man, the viking, catches you around your middle. You kick and scream and make every effort to batter him with your fists, to make yourself difficult prey. You've heard enough stories about what these men do to know you want no part of it. He lifts you, hauls you up off the ground as you fight and twist.
"Would you be still, I'm not going to hurt you," The man tells you in gaelic. You freeze at the familiar tongue.
"You're a liar," You push at him, claw at his grip, "why would you chase me if you weren't hunting me?"
"Why would you run?" He asks, grabbing your wrists to pin them against his chest. You glare at him, your chest heaving as you gather your breath back. He's handsome, for a viking. There's something sort of rakish about the stubble on his face and the set of his brow. "Did I do something to scare you, bonnie?" It's not an honest question, he knows full well why you'd run.
You keep quiet, keep your glare level with him. An easy task with him holding you up, his arm hooked around your thighs. His head tips back to look at you with a smile. "Aren't you pretty," He whispers, hardly phased by the run or your anger. When you don't respond he seems to find his head again, his smile dropping to something more serious.
"Fine, courting later, business now." He sets you back down, keeping a tight grip on your wrists now that you've proven yourself a runner. "I'm here to negotiate a trade, I need an escort," He explains, though you would think a man needing an escort would have a shorter handle on the ax at his hip.
"A bad liar," You amend your previous statement, tugging at his hold.
"Fine," He relents, "I want an escort. Escort me." He insists, tugging you against his chest again. You're really getting tired of bumping into him.
"Why? So you can lead a raiding party back as soon as I turn around?" You spit.
“To what end?” The viking asks, tips his head to the side, his eyes hard on you, “What use do we have for dead healers?” 
You stop your struggling, stunned. He’s not wrong, but he speaks to an understanding of your village you hadn’t expected. How much did this man and his company know about you? How many scouts had walked your paths, watched your neighbors work? He’s right, dead healers are useless, but so are port healers. Vikings are only as strong as their weakest man, wouldn’t they prefer to keep healers on hand?
“You said-” You swallow, “You said you were here to negotiate a trade. What- A trade for what?” He looks away from you, and you have your answer. You were right to run, he’s here for one of you.
“Let’s go,” He doesn’t pull you, but you follow him anyway. Your mind races, thinking through the people your elders would offer up. Who was the most skilled, the most expendable, weighing what you might get in return. What couldn’t these vikings offer you? Safety, rare goods, money, animals, friendship. Invaluable intangible things that would aid all of you, for whatever price they set. It’s still only the illusion of a choice.
Your wrist is still held tight in his grip as you walk beside him. An escort, what a joke. You’re not going to put in a good word for him or do anything more than act as a pass for him to walk your streets. You’re busy working on your escape plan when you smell it.
Smoke, just as you step clear of the forest.
"Gods," the man breathes, both of you standing on top of the hill at the edge of the forest, watching your home burn. Your eyes grow wide watching the fleeing shadows of raiders, the sacrifices of you kin. What are they doing? Why would they- A mass of fire belches from the center of your village, the man covers your eyes, shields you from the heat of it with his cloak. The tattered tartan catches your attention, makes your heart pound in your chest. You recognize it, Mactavish. He was one of you.
"We have to go," He tells you. You try to pull yourself free, scream for your family down the hill. He catches you around the middle again, hauls you back into the safety of the forest. 
"Tell them to stop," you beg. Your sobbing pleas fall on deaf ears.
“Those aren’t my men,” He doesn’t set you down, transfers your squirming to his shoulder with a grunt and keeps his pace. You can still see the lick of flame and smoke through the trees. The only home you’ve ever known, gone in an instant and all you can do is watch. The forest grows thicker around you as you lay against the familiar unfamiliar tartan and let yourself be carried off like a spoil.
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woetoy · 3 months
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Any chance for more glass frog clover art? She is just so cute and seeing her walking around with a stuffed womb is so hot.
women be shopping
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