Scrappy 了's Comments

I love the art!

So, I heard that this was "write to adopt". I... may have gone a bit overboard when writing this. Word count is ~2,700. If you need me to make a small bio for him as well, I can do that. Characters used mostly belong to me, but I also "borrowed" one that belongs to my sister (with her permission).

(Story begins here. Too lazy to think up a title.)

Like any other day, he started it by blinking open his eyes.

The bright fluorescent light was never something he could truly get used to. It was constant, monotonous and annoying. Not a day went past where he ceased to wonder if they kept the lights like that to disorient their captives. They probably did.

Like the lights, the constant feeling of weightlessness was something he had yet to make peace with. One of his back legs kicked out, and he was rewarded by his body slowly flipping upsidedown. He thrashed a bit more, trying to right himself, already motion-sick and dizzy. Had he not just woken up, he wouldn’t have tried in the first place. It took forcing his limbs to hold still for his body to finally right itself.

“Goodmorning. I take it you didn’t sleep well?” the voice said. Scrappy looked over to his left, where his companion was staring at him with a slightly bemused expression. Scrappy bared his teeth in the attempt of a snarl, and in return the cat gave a shit-eating grin. He could swear the cat was probably purring in there, as evident by his voice. “If you stopped trying to fight it, you wouldn’t have to wake up sick every morning.”

Scrappy huffed and turned his head away, bubbles floating out of his open mouth. “Easy for you to say,” he bit back without ever uttering a sound. “You’re used to this madness. I wasn’t born here like you were.”

Instantly, the cats expression softened, and Scrappy flinched. Instantly, he regretted his words. He gave the cat an apologetic look, and the cat nodded.

“Sorry about that,” he looked away. “Rough night.” The cat nodded empathetically. “I’m sorry for poking fun at you. You were just getting even. No harm done.”

Scrappy smiled, then looked past the cat, leaning forward in his test tube to get a glance at the tube directly to the left of the cat. To his dismay, he saw it was empty. “Where’s your sister?” he asked, eyes full of concern. The cat winced, expression twisting in pain. “They took her away a bit before you woke up,” it explained. “I didn’t want to wake you.”

Scrappy nodded, knowing there was nothing he could have done anyways. He placed his paw against the glass, anger rising up within him. The glass was strong, probably bulletproof if he had to guess. And the liquid— wet but dry, weightless yet heavy, and somehow breathable— that liquid was the bane of their existence. The scientists used it for everything. Whenever they needed to remove one of the specimens, they filled it with a sedative that put them down almost instantly. Whenever the specimens needed to be punished, they simply took out whatever it was that allowed them to breathe. That damned liquid was what nullified their powers, weakened them, prevented them from escaping. Whoever had created it was either a hardworking genius or a sadistic bastard. Probably both.

The one thing Scrappy was sure the scientists didn’t know about the liquid, however, was that it allowed specimens in close range to each other to communicate telepathically. That was what allowed Scrappy to talk to the cat and it’s sister. It was also probably the only thing keeping him from going insane.

“Here, let me take your mind off of it,” Scrappy said, after he was done mulling over his thoughts. “What do you want to hear about today?”

The cat perked up at this. Unlike Scrappy, who had been captured, it had been born inside of the facility. It knew nothing of the outside world, only of the tube it resided in, the hall it was placed in, and the other creatures that floated inside tubes of their own.

“Tell me about nature again,” the cat replied. Scrappy had to resist smiling and rolling his eyes. The cat always asked about nature, while it’s sister wanted to know more about cities and foods and culture. Scrappy puffed out his chest, mimicking and “ahem” and preparing to go on a mental tirade.

“The first thing you notice is the grass,” he began. “It tickles your paws and stretches on for miles. The smell is sweeter than anything you’ve ever known. It’s the brightest green you’ll ever see. Next is the trees, that stretch on and on and on. Like giant claws, reaching for the sky. They’ll protect you from the ones that want to hurt you. And the sky… infinite and blue. You could fly for miles and miles and never reach the end of it. Legend says there’s only a few creatures that could fly high enough to breach the barrier into space… and survive.”

Scrappy paused for a beat. He knew what was coming next. On cue, the cat asked the fated question. “And what about the storms?”

Scrappy couldn’t hold back his grin this time. The cat’s fascination with extreme weather was endless. As a matter of fact, it had chosen weather to be his namesake— Stormy the cat, so it was called. It’s sister, a dog called Lovecore, named herself after the two words she liked the most. No real significance, she just thought it sounded nice.

“The storms are great and mighty,” Scrappy went on. “They dispel life-giving water onto the world. Sometimes so much they cause lakes and streams to flood. Lightning of every color strikes the Earth, leaving scorch marks in their wake. The wind blows so hard it sometimes starts tornadoes, which carve paths of destruction into the ground. There is *nothing* that can stop a storm once it had begun.”

That was why Stormy had chosen such a name. It was all the cat wanted— to be strong, to be able to protect Lovecore. Storms were strong. Storms were fierce and unstoppable. If the cat could be like that, then Lovecore would never be in danger again. Maybe, just maybe, if it was like a storm, they could escape this wretched place and never look back.

Scrappy shook himself out of his thoughts again as Stormy stared at him expectingly. “Finally, there are the stars,” he said, trying to fall back into beat. “Billions and billions of them fill the pitch-black night sky. They burn bright, and forever. You could travel for years and never get close. Some say that, when you die, you become one of the many stars in our universe, so that you are able to watch over your loved ones forever.”

Stormy stared into the distance wistfully, looking away from Scrappy as his yellow eyes became unfocused. Scrappy stopped talking, opting to instead stare at his friend. There was a faint whisper in his head, and he tipped his head to the side. When the whisper came again, he noticed that Stormy’s eyes were more shiny than usual.

“I hope I will be able to protect her one day,” the cat murmured. “She’s too pure for this. Too nice to deserve this. When I get out of here, I will make sure they can never hurt her again.” The cats gaze hardened in resolve. He turned to Scrappy with a vengeance.

“And that goes for you too. When we get out of here— and I do mean *when*— they will not have the chance to lay another claw on you. That is my promise.”

Before Scrappy could respond, he was suddenly overtaken by an intense drowsiness, and he seamlessly slipped into unconsciousness.

~~~

When he woke again, it was with a start. One of his back legs kicked out, and it smacked against the glass. He was instantly propelled forward, and his skull cracked against the prison he was still trapped in. Scrappy groaned, rubbing his throbbing head as he tried to wake up. But there was something else worming inside of his mind— an emotion? Anger. It was anger, burning bright and intense. But it was not his own. Cracking open an eye, Scrappy looked at Stormy.

The purple cat was circling within it’s own tube, hatred written clear across his face. Sometimes it’s claws scrabbled against the glass, sometimes it opened his mouth in a silent scream. To the tube on it’s left, Lovecore floated, limp and unconscious. Stormy sensed Scrappy's awakening, and turned to the dog with such pain in it's heart that Scrappy could feel it within it's own. He didn't need to ask why.

When removing one of the trio, be it Lovecore like they had before, or either Stormy or Scrappy, they often put the other two to sleep as well. They didn't do it with any of the others, only those three. For them, it was standard procedure. The scientists had picked up on the fact that they were close long ago, and though they couldn't fathom why, they took the proper precautions necessary anyways. Wouldn't want them getting riled up while they were trying to do they job.

Scrappy didn't know how long he'd been asleep, as time hardly had any meaning to him, but whatever had happened to Lovecore must have been bad if she was still sleeping it off. No wonder Stormy was so agitated.

Before Scrappy could think of anything to console his friend with, a deep and rumbling alarm suddenly sounded throughout the whole building. Scrappy's fur stood on end as his head wheeled around frantically on his neck, trying to see what was wrong. Stormy's eyes widened as well, and the cat placed a paw on the glass closest to Lovecore, as if trying to push through and protect her.

The building lit up in flashes of red. The first alarm was joined by another. Scrappy could hardly ever hear things beyond the thick glass of the tube, and even he could tell that some sort of commotion was going on.

A loud bang and the spiderweb fracturing of the glass caused Scrappy to yelp, instantly coughing as the liquid invaded his lungs. He stared at the tube in shock, a bullet lodged firmly in the breaking glass-- so it wasn't bulletproof after all! But it seemed that some sort of security measures on the tube sensed the breach, as whatever was allowing Scrappy to breathe was gone. If he didn't act fast, he would drown.

He couldn't let that happen.

With all of his might, Scrappy started punching at the glass. His paw slammed into his prison over and over again, chip by chip breaking away the glass that had once contained him. Finally, with one last kick, Scrappy managed to create a whole wide enough for him to fit through.

He lay there on the cold linoleum, coughing and gasping for air. It was sterile and cold, but the sweetest thing on Earth to him at that moment. He tried to stand, but his legs felt like jelly. Months of doing nothing of floating in a test tube will do that to your limbs, he guessed. When he was finally able to stand up, he turned back to the tubes.

To Stormy.

The cat was crazed, spinning around and pounding on the glass. It's eyes held a frantic desperation that Scrappy had never before seen within them. It was mouthing words that Scrappy could not hear, their mental connection severed. But the message was clear-- get me out of here. Scrappy did something he had not done for so long, stepping towards the tubes as black ooze began to run from his mouth and his nose. His red claws turned black, the color soon following up his arms. Eyes dotted his pelt like wretched stars, spikes growing from his fur like an infection. He reared his arm back, mustering up all the momentum he could get, and slammed it into the glass.

A bolt of pain shot through his arm.

Scrappy yelped and fell back, holding the appendage to him. It was much too soon to try something like this-- he was too weak from imprisonment. Stormy's eyes were begging, pleading with him to try harder. Scrappy stood up, shaking droplets of liquid off of his fur. Maybe it's still having some sort of effect, he thought to himself. He pulled his arm back again, readying another strike--

A bullet whizzed past his head. Scrappy looked down the long corridor that he had once only observed from the hazy of glass, and saw a group of angry scientists rushing towards him. Their yells reached his ears all at once, and Scrappy immediately felt overwhelmed. One of the scientists raised their gun, aiming for his head. Scrappy glanced at Stormy one last time. Stormy stared straight back, seemingly into his soul

Scrappy ran, and did not look back.

~~~

He was able to escape by hiding. Able to maneuver his body into the vents, he was able to outlast the scientists until they decided to quit hunting for him and head back to take care of whatever had caused the alarm in the first place. After that, it was simply a matter of finding a direction that lead outside.

It was raining. Hard. The clouds were pitch black and angry, though from what little light that remained Scrappy could tell that it was still daytime. His emotions were mixed. On one hand, he was grateful that the sunlight was not there to blind him. On the other, he couldn't stop thinking of Stormy.

The sweet green grass ticked his paws and almost stung, but he didn't stop running. The pine trees stretched tall, foreboding and unfamiliar. He didn't know where he was, or how he had gotten here. How long had it been since he was free? Months of course, at least a year. Maybe two.

The forest stretched on forever.

He could never hope to last that long.

Collapsing out of exhaustion, Scrappy's chest heaved as his heart raced. Black spots and stars swam in his vision. He let out a mournful sob, then slipped into the darkness that awaited him.

~~~

Remi trudged through the forest, whistling a cheerful tune. His raincoat weighed heavy upon his shoulders, but it didn't stop him from skipping from puddle to puddle. His arms were outstretched, unburned by any sort of umbrella. His hat dipped under the weight of the rain, and causing trails of water to run down his glasses. The whole thing was just so cathartic to him. He didn't care what the other cats thought about water-- he quite liked the rain!

Finding himself in a clearing, Remi slowly stopped his jubilant leaping and bounding as he spied something laying in the grass. With his own body heat causing his glasses to fog up, he couldn't tell what it was. A pile of logs maybe? Wouldn't he have seen those before on one of his earlier walks? Rubbing his glasses, Remi approached the shape.

He let out a gasp when it suddenly came into focus. A dog, clothed only in trousers, lay upon the muddied ground. His breathing was labored, as if it was something he was only now learning how to do, something that took an immense amount of energy.

Remi rushed to the dog's side, carefully running his hand over the dog's mottled fur. It was wet, that was to be expected, but clean save for the mud. The dog didn't bear any bugs are parasites, and his breathing-- though heavy-- was free of any rasping or coughing. Remi winced as his fingers gently ran over the dog's ribs, which poked through his skin like daggers. Whoever this dog was, he was extremely malnourished. Free or sickness or ill treatment, but not cared for well enough to have lived in any sort of comfort.

With a concerning amount of ease, Remi lifted the dog into his arms and stood up. The dog whimpered and stirred slightly, as if having a nightmare, but did not wake. "Let's get you someplace where it's warm," Remi muttered, and started back in the direction of his cottage. Despite the rain and seclusion, it would be warm there. He could run the dog a hot bath for when he awoke, and prepare him some food in the meantime. And then, maybe then, he could get some answers.

AbandonedAcc92

My God that's a big story hhhhh ima just give it to you since nobody else actually cared enough to write a story like that! Ima still read it but they are yours

StormyPhoenix29

Oh my gosh that was fast-- thank you so much! I promise I'll take good care of him. If you have any critiques on the story, just let me know! The majority of it was written on my off time at work today, so it might have some mistakes. ^^

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kaju

would love to offer characters in any folder for this kid!

aaviiann

okok so story! wawa!!! im shoving him into this story btw

Name: IDK IM RLLY BAD AT NAMES ID PROB KEEP SCRAPPY
Age: 15-17 mayb? OK I DECIDED EHS 15
Gender/prns: Male he/him
Species: Chervyl wolf
Role(in story): Either a reoccurring friend of the main group or a group member if i end up really liking him AFHEJBHE i made him a group member
Other: he can use spirit magic

Story(?): When Ralph, Umi, and Oliver go to Gina Scrappy sees them wandering around looking confused so he goes up to them and offers to help them. The group tell him why theyre there and Scrappy tells them that he knows someone who can help, and takes them (?)somewhere and tells them that the person will be there in the morning and they can just spend the night there and wait. While they are asleep, Scrappy steals their stuff and runs away. Oliver didnt go to sleep because he was suspiciosu of Scrappy and chaises after him, eventually catches him. Oliver drags Scrappy back to Umi and Ralph and yells at Umi for trusting him. Scrappy apologizes for stealing their stuff and tells them its because he doesnt have anywhere to live or any money, so he doesnt have any way to get food or anything other than stealing. Ralph feels bad for him and says he can come travel with them if he helps them find a way for him to get back to earth then he can travel with them and theyll give him food and stuff. He agrees and tells them where an actual magic person who might be able to help them is in Gina.

Im not putting any more into this yet because i dont know if ill get him but wawawa
if you dont like the story i can still offer chars !! i offered chars twice and you never responded wa