the stars’ landing library might not have a building yet, but it thrives in the lives of the not-cats who sustain it—in stories carved from sand that wash away with the tides, in tales built from words that decay and change as they’re remembered, in daisy chains and engraved seashells and constellations made anew. here, preserved like sea creatures pressed into limestone, some of these ephemeral stories/beliefs/loves are written. look gently, look carefully, and look closely.

the stars do not whisper their secrets to just anyone, you know.


hi there, and welcome to my lore & writing thread for stars’ landing, my little not-cat town! stars’ landing is a place nestled against the horizon where the sea and stars meet, and all of its lore has a distinctly celestial or ocean themed bent—but the core of the town is in its relatively ordinary not-cats, who all have a strange affection for anything but the ground they stand on.

the things posted here will range from lore about the oddities of the town, to regional slang and nicknames used by the not-cats in stars’ landing, to short fiction pieces about scenarios i liked or relationships i enjoy. have fun, and welcome to the horizon!

LAST UPDATE - april 15 2023 - new short story added: send me a peach, about peach & basil and falling in love across worlds


— TABLE OF CONTENTS
ruminations on lore, in-universe writings, or anything that doesn’t fall neatly into one category.

⋆｡°✩ a brief introduction to the landing’s residents
⋆｡°✩ regional slang & terminology
⋆｡°✩ the star cluster phenomenon: a study of not-cat fusion
⋆｡°✩ a map to the landing

— A COLLECTION OF STORIES UNTOLD
pieces of writing about the lives of various cats in stars’ landing, that have no witnesses to tell their story, or no witnesses willing to.

⋆｡°✩ white wildflower crown – harmony & amber. on bandaging wounds and thank-you gifts.
⋆｡°✩ send me a peach – basil & peach. on falling in love across worlds, and then finally, finally meeting.

— A BRIEF INTRODUCTION
many of these not-cats have extended biographies on their profile. say hello!

⋆｡°✩ atlas [ae/aer] – the leader of stars’ landing; an innovative and sweet medic and herbalist who hopes to become the town’s scribe one day. charts out the stories ae hears in seashells, pinned up across the top of aer tent like so, so many constellations.
⋆｡°✩ amber [xe/xem] – the landing’s main builder and architect, and a steady, quiet comfort to most of xyr companions. has a strange sixth sense for finding nestor—or, as recently discovered, their shadow. a fierce fighter, though you’d never know without seeing it.
⋆｡°✩ ardent [he/they] – a flamboyant and bright not-cat with a taste for fashion. he can be strangely withdrawn at times, but those times have gotten fewer and further between since adopting kittens from nestor. a kind, silly father, who occasionally struggles with showing affection in clear ways.
⋆｡°✩ harmony [xe/xem] – a jack of all trades, master of some who has a way with words and gentle affirmations. a scout, and proud of it. has no difficulty with tasks when out in the woods, but often fights to find a place for xemself in the town’s day-to-day responsibilities.
⋆｡°✩ heron [he/they] – an easygoing and playful not-cat with a protective streak that could rival nestor’s own. gets along well with most of the landing, and plans on taking up atlas’ position as herbalist and apothecary once the landing’s library is built. a thief (in adventuring exclusively, or so he claims, anyway.)
⋆｡°✩ oasis [he/him] – a mild-mannered and soft-spoken painter who longs for the day stars’ landing has the supplies to support regular artistry again. in charge of organizing and tracking all items that come in and out of the landing; his sorting system is a bit… peculiar, but it’s functional.

⋆｡°✩ sermak [they/he] – a slightly prickly not-cat who joined the founding members of stars’ landing not long after their arrival to not-earth. considers themself the only one with a backbone in the group, and acts accordingly, but ultimately cares for them enough to have their best interests at heart. their affection for pretty clothes is the landing’s worst-kept secret.
⋆｡°✩ peach [he/they] – wears his heart on his sleeve—or, rather, his chest—with the personality to match it. crafts stories in the same strange way that atlas does, but with pieces of stars instead, and always seems to have the luck to catch new ones.
⋆｡°✩ lynne [they/she] – a newcomer to stars’ landing, the collective of stories doesn’t quite know how to feel about them yet…
⋆｡°✩ quest [they/them] – a newcomer to stars’ landing, the collective of stories doesn’t quite know how to feel about them yet…
⋆｡°✩ tyvrik [she/her] – a newcomer to stars’ landing, the collective of stories doesn’t quite know how to feel about her yet…

⋆｡°✩ cricket [it/xe] – originally from another town of not-cats who migrated from earth; it wandered over to stars’ landing and decided to stay there instead. a clever and witty not-cat who holds the one and only accomplishment of being the first to make sermak laugh. xe misses taking care of animals like xe did before, but has taken to shaping bread into fun animal shapes for the kittens while xe waits for a barn to be built.

— REGIONAL SLANG & TERMINOLOGY

⋆｡°✩ seastricken (adj.) – a fond nickname for not-cats that have a strange obsession with the ocean, the water, swimming, and anything between. it was originally thought of as a simple personality quirk, but some not-cats have begun to suspect that something about stars’ landing—or the not-cats attracted to it, at least—is different from the rest of not-earth.
⋆｡°✩ starstrung (adj.) – a fond nickname for not-cats that have a strange obsession with the night sky, the stars, celestial bodies, and anything between. it was originally thought of as a simple personality quirk, but some not-cats have begun to suspect that something about stars’ landing—or the not-cats attracted to it, at least—is different from the rest of not-earth.
⋆｡°✩ star cluster (n.) – the landing’s nickname for the product of a fusion, based off the astronomy term for large groups of stars held together by self-gravitation. see also: the star cluster phenomenon.

— THE STAR CLUSTER PHENOMENON
a story charted by peach, in collaboration with atlas and several others.

the star cluster phenomenon, known outside of stars’ landing as fusion, is an event wherein two or more not-cats with extraordinarily strong bonds with each other will fuse into one not-cat for a little while. through experiments, it has been discovered that while the bonds do have to be strong, they don’t have to be the same both ways, and they don’t have to be positive. for example, a not-cat who sees another as a sworn rival could fuse with them, even though the other not-cat thinks of them as a sworn sibling. however, fusions not built on mutual emotion tend to be more unstable.

not-cats born under the north wind have more difficulty fusing with other not-cats born under the north wind, though it is possible. the same goes for not-cats born under the south wind. the magnetic forces at work within each not-cat inherently repel each other, but, much like magnets, they can cling tightly given the determination to do so.

in stars’ landing, fusions are called star clusters, and they often name themselves after constellations or other groups of stars. it was discovered when amber and harmony, queerplatonic partners, were seen rolling around in the wildflowers outside of town together before they suddenly rolled into a ball of light—and then, of course, there was a “new” not-cat. there doesn’t appear to be an upper limit to how many not-cats can be in a star cluster, but it amplifies any pre-existing stability factors (such as magnetic influence or conflicting emotions).

one not-cat has volunteered their personal thoughts on the experience, though they have chosen to stay anonymous:

“my first star cluster, their name is corvus. it didn’t really feel like two different not-cats, it just felt like… we were one. we were corvus. i know we describe it as a star cluster, but it felt closer than that, like a black hole star. although maybe that has bad connotations- but, you know, relatively speaking… and theoretically speaking, they wouldn’t last that long out in space. like- our fusion didn’t. but it was wonderful while it did. i can’t even imagine a world where corvus didn’t exist, even just for that short time. … i hope xe wants to do it again.”

while the star cluster phenomenon hasn’t had any negative effects on the cats involved, and is theorized to be a net positive exclusively, we are still keeping an eye out for any possible side effects. please contact stars’ landing with your experiences with this phenomenon if you ever experience it, and especially if you believe your situation to be unique or educational in some way!

— white wildflower crown
343 words. an expansion of a scenario (#075, a small accident) with harmony and amber, queerplatonic partners from the starter squad!

“it’s not so bad.”

harmony glances at amber before returning xyr attention to the scrape xe’s treating. “which is why you didn’t go to atlas,” xe hums, tightening the gauze.

“mm. well.” amber waits patiently for harmony to finish before moving xyr leg away, nosing at the bandaging. it’s well-done—not that xe expected anything less, from harmony—so xe stands, stretching xyr back. “i’ll be back.”

“don’t stress it too much, okay?” harmony nudges xyr head with xyr own gently, voice filled with warmth. “i’ll really take you to atlas if you do.”

“no need to worry the kit.”

“no need to worry me, dear!”

amber huffs, nudging xem back. “i won’t.”

“we’ll see about that,” harmony teases. amber just shakes xyr head and turns, padding back off into the tall grass and wildflowers that crowd the west end of stars’ landing.

out here, it’s easy pickings for any not-cats that want to make a simple gift, all pretty petals and long, sturdy stems. amber carries a bundle of white flowers in xyr teeth to an open patch of grass, then weaves them together. it’s not the prettiest thing. amber isn’t the sort of not-cat who knows how to make intricate crafts, just the sort of not-cat who cares enough to try, and so the flower crown is clumsy but endearing for its effort.

by the time xe makes it back into the landing, harmony has settled by the wishing shore, looking out towards the sunset’s reflection on the water. amber silently settles the flower crown over xyr head. to xyr credit, xe barely flinches at the surprise, just peers into the water to look at xyr reflection.

“oh, this is lovely! thank you, amber. and you kept your leg out of things.”

“you asked me to.”

“thank you,” harmony repeats. amber settles by xyr side with a short nod.

they stay there looking out towards the horizon until the sun has long since settled, water lapping at closely placed paws. the flower crown doesn’t droop in the darkness. not tonight, and not ever.

waaaa this is so cool

[i hope it’s okay to write here !!! if not just lmk and ill try to move it ;^_^]

ohhhgmmmgygoddd……. this is lovely beyond words !!!!!!! i love love love star & ocean themes and i love the way you convey that kind of longing and wonder for them and the unknown and the vastness of it all… and your local phrases section is so so cool !!!! seastricken….. starstrung…… i will never ever recover /pos

@jellyjam @sylveon awaaa thank you both!! im so very proud of seastricken and starstrung as terms im happy they hit :D

— A MAP TO THE LANDING
this map is incomplete, but it’s functional, hung up high and proud behind a pane of glass next to the landing’s entrance. made of fabric, locations embroidered or sewn on using labeled ephemera, its well-worn edges show the work of many paws.

⋆｡°✩ tidewake: when most not-cats speak of the landing as a whole, they mean tidewake, the first of the landing’s working parts and the hub for most trade and activity. it sits on a high cliff above crescent lake, close to the lower point, where the streams lead out towards the ocean and the impact. most buildings have plants climbing them eagerly, seashells carved into the wood or embedded into the stone, and painted murals so frequent that there’s rarely a spot without color to be found. the center of tidewake—and by extension, the center of stars’ landing itself—is a spire of delicately placed driftwood with a glass star atop it. the star is the source of much superstition in the landing; some say that if it ever falls, the sun itself will be extinguished. others say that it was found on the wishing shore, sand struck by lightning to make a star on not-earth, and that it was a clear sign of where to rest and build before they could truly reach the horizon. regardless of whether any of that is true, the installment is the source of much casual attention, with many not-cats leaving offerings to the sea and sky there.

⋆｡°✩ the wishing shore: a hidden beach that stretches comfortably across the edge of crescent lake, flanked by rocky outcroppings that kept it hidden from most beings until the not-cats of stars’ landing discovered it. nowadays, there’s a well-worn path down the cliff through the sand to the singular path leading in, a not-quite-comfortable tunnel carpeted by lichens and moss and surrounded by sprawling, pocked stone. rumours say that this shore hides away tide-battered treasures from the ocean and lingering seafoam constellations. not-cats often come here to make wishes, carving them into seashells or throwing corked glass bottles to the water, secrets kept between them and the waves. (though some say that they wash back up on shore when they’ll be granted, and some not-cats make a habit of looking…)

⋆｡°✩ the harmonics: a set of houseboats out on crescent lake, connected by docks and strings of light, made of handcrafted paper lanterns; the paper of which is often reused from old journals, maps, and outdated records. those particularly close to the sea will often make theirs out of messages found in bottles. while tidewake is a hub of activity, the harmonics are a hub of homes, often for not-cats who are seastricken, finding themselves more comfortable than ever amongst the rocking of the hull and the sound of the water.

⋆｡°✩ the luminosities: a set of hanging homes made in the old, old trees bordering the east side of stars’ landing, connected by rough rope bridges and cultivated tree branches. rumour has it that the trees are hundreds of years old, the seeds carried to the landing’s area by the wind from the heart of the woods. nowadays, particularly starstrung not-cats live in furnished hollows and on open-roof platforms, as close as they can get to the sky’s grasp. not-cats hang lights down from the branches to shine on the roots of the trees, where they have built markets and cozy places in the hollows further down, but the higher you go, the more dimly lit it is—all the better to see the stars with, the sun and moons providing plenty of light to navigate by.

⋆｡°✩ woodchime: a repaired shipwreck, repurposed into a two-story home settled flush against the cliff, on the small span of steady ground between it and the shore. amber, harmony, and cricket live there together, though they’re rarely seen together outside of it now that they have beans to look after. it’s painted in a variety of deep blues and purples, speckled with white and silver, and despite the battered look of the wood, it’s a lovely mimicry of the stars above. windchimes carved by amber out of xyr scrap wood crowd the overhang, and harmony’s lined the windows with seaglass—cricket’s knit curtains of dyed wooly bun wool are always visible through the glass, whether it’s tinted soft blue or clear as clean water.

— send me a peach
1535 words. the backstory for peach & basil, my most beloved partners, who have been intertwined across worlds through their reflections since they were kittens.

basil has only ever known not-earth, all wood and stone and the comforting, heavy warmth of nestor’s wood; gardenhome city is a steadily crowded place, all noise and masses of fur and writhing tails when you look down at the footpaths from below, but it’s home, and it always has been.

sometimes, though—sometimes ae just has to get away. a mischievous kitten, ae easily ducks away from the watchful eyes of aer littermates and escapes into the shallow woods nearby, opposite the path to the heart of the woods. ae peers into snake holes, tangles aer paws in the roots. there’s a pond close by, and ae navigates by the sound of croaking frogs and splashing water to find it, just as the ripples begin to still and the water goes murky-green calm.

ae looks in, mindful of the edge though perhaps not as mindful as ae should be, and gets an eyeful of a reflection that isn’t aers at all.

all towering metal and stone—basil’s first instinct is to recoil, and ae trips right over aer hind feet and tumbles into the dirt. aer second instinct is to look again. curiosity killed the not-cat, after all, but satisfaction is worth the brush with danger.

this time, ae spots the not-cat, a kitten that has to be around aer age with fluffy, long orange fur and a heart-shaped patch on their chest. they don’t seem to notice aer, but the reflection stays focused on them even as it changes. not really a reflection at all, then. sixty days old and frankly uninterested in the mechanics of how this works, basil settles by the water to watch, staring intently at the stranger in their strange land.

they have two littermates too, ae discovers, one orange with white socks and the other pale, short-haired like basil. one of their parents is a strange, lithe creature, with no opposable thumbs and tall legs; the other is a much more normal looking not-cat, all long shaggy white fur and barely visible eyes. basil can’t hear them talk, but the strange kitten looks at home, even as they traverse odd stone streets and duck around loud, awful-looking machines.

ae must watch for hours, really, though ae isn’t paying any attention at all to the sun. eventually a frog, displeased with aer inactivity, jumps into the pond right where ae’s looking and the reflection vanishes into thin air. basil yowls, feeling for the first time a bone-deep fear of loss, but there’s no time to wait to see if the strange kitten comes back; it’s nighttime, and the fireflies will soon fade ‘til there’s no way to make aer way home even by the light of the twin moons.

“i’ll see you again later!” basil says cheerily to the algae-infested water, narrowing aer eyes at the frog when it dares to poke its face out of the slime. “don’t do that again, mr. frog.”

the frog says nothing. satisfied, basil nods and turns on aer paws, and only trips four times on aer way home.



peach, as a matter of principle, doesn’t spend much time near windows—that would require being up high, which he doesn’t particularly enjoy, or near the shops that furless ones stream in and out of like ants or fish or any number of things in crowded lines. but there are plenty of other places to look in a city, if you want to find reflections, and one day he ventures across a particularly polished piece of metal all by his lonesome.

inside the metal there is a forest. this is, of course, not literal, but peach can’t help but place a paw on it as if there’s a portal there, to this place of greens and browns and what must be hundreds of cats, in the distance. where his reflection should be is another cat, black and white with close-kept fur and a playful affect to aer expression, looking over the edge of a bridge.

“hello?” peach taps his paw against aer, but it does nothing but obscure his vision of aer, so he puts it down and leans forward, nose almost touching the cold iron. “hi? can you hear me?”

the kitten doesn’t do so much as twitch in response. peach droops, laying down and putting his head on his paws. he’s not sure what to do. maybe it’s weird to be watching a stranger like this, when ae doesn’t seem to see him, but cat-watching is a thing his dad loves to do, so maybe it’s not so weird after all. there’s a vague inkling in the back of his brain, the idea that something about this is wrong, but no one is around to correct him on what reflections should be.

so peach just watches, content to look at the kitten go about aer day in aer strange home, as vast as any real city. even if this is a dream, he thinks—i’d love to visit there someday.



basil sees him again, of course, and peach sees aer again, and while the two eventually learn that their reflections are unusual, neither cares to question it. the two grow up, orbiting each other—always looking into the mirror when the other is looking away, slowly falling in love with the not-cat on the other side, and their little habits, and their family and their home and their fur and their expressions and—

well. it’s all very sappy, both of them know. they’ve both figured that the other sees the same, but coincidence and circumstance means that neither has ever been able to confirm it, staying fluttery with the possibility and nothing more.

but one day, basil looks into aer reflection and meets aer soul-cat’s eyes, and aer breath catches.

he’s watching aer, expression so full of fondness and delight that it makes aer draw to a stop, staring, mouth ajar. something in basil’s chest is warm, warm, warm, light enough to bring aer up into the sky if ae lets it, syrupy sweet and burning slow. ae gets to see the moment he realizes, too, and then they’re both scrambling, paws against each others in the mirror as if they can tumble through to meet.

you watch me too, basil thinks. ae imagines he’s thinking the same thing, and ae presses aer head to the glass with the joy of it. he mimicks aer. their fur doesn’t touch; there is no outside warmth, just cold glass. neither minds.

after this ae will go seek out nestor, ask after the strange city and aer strange companion. now that they’ve met, something electric has burst in aer chest, all sparking wires and longing, and basil doesn’t think ae can keep watching.

ae wants to meet him. there has never been a doubt he feels the same.



(nestor, peach says, i think i’m ready—)



stars’ landing is a lovely little place, made out of huge trees and soft sand and natural cliffs, clear water, bustling not-cats with a sense for the stars and the sea that resonates in peach’s heart. peach spends a little time in the community home in tidewake, before he moves to the luminosities, trying to catch the feeling he felt when he saw his soul-cat up in the bridges of gardenhome. the stars are closer here, too, and peach learns the word starstrung and keeps it beneath his tongue, whispers it when he finds bits of celestial matter, fallen to not-earth.

and he waits, of course.

his soul-cat will surely recognize that he’s in not-earth, even if ae doesn’t recognize stars’ landing at first sight. peach visits tidewake daily, helps with making the map, buys a wide mirror for his tree-hollow home and hangs it up opposite the door. he enlists amber’s help to install an oven. he learns how to bake; his soul-cat likes pastries, with jams and herbs and syrups, and while peach spends most of his time hunting, he doesn’t mind the routine of making sweet-salt goods at all.

and he waits. patience is rewarded, however long that takes.

tidewake is a mess of activity, the first time someone moves in from gardenhome. peach waits at the edge of the festivities, paws kneading into his tail. his soul-cat will know where to find him. ae always does.

through the crowd, fur parts for a moment, like a tide receding. the soul-cat meets his eyes.

the waiting is over, then—peach doesn’t hesitate to pounce, and neither does ae.

ae laughs, as they roll to a stop, on their sides with their paws still touching. “do you even know how many tiny villages have popped up over the past few months? i looked everywhere for you!”

“i gave you all the hints i could,” peach answers, reaching out to paw gently at aer face. “oh dear. i don’t know your name.”

“basil,” ae says, voice still threaded with amusement. “my name’s basil, and you’re my favorite not-cat in the whole universe, okay?”

peach feels like melting, a little. he purrs instead. “you’re mine, too. basil.”

“and my favorite not-cat’s name?”

“peach! i’m peach.”

“hi, peach,” basil whispers, pleased. his name, from aer—it feels like coming home.