private And if the world don't break|| Duskpool || I'll be shakin' it

[Sorrelsong]

Sun twinkling overhead, Sorrelsong works hard to keep the events from previous days out of her mind. Sometimes, she imagines them as mice she has to catch, sometimes she pushes the worries echoing in her head into the birdsong above. Today, she is hell bent on staying positive. To much death. To much sadness. Something good must happen, and soon.
"Want to hunt?"She had asked the stoic tom known as Duskpool. Her brother. Her true friend throughout all of this, and probably her rock for days and unspeakable troubles ahead, but she must focus on the now. "We can stay close to camp, I'd prefer it, actually, but I was thinking we could get some nice warm fresh kill for everyone to enjoy." Usually her sentences weren't so rambling and informal, but time with Florabreeze had given her more then a friend it seems. The Maine coon's ways seem to have rubbed off on her, not that she minded. Duskpool had seen her at her worst, 'chatty' is hardly something to bat an eye at.
Like that, the two were out of the safety of camp. Though the past day's events quicken her breath and perk her ears, Sorrelsong finds herself void of any nerves. Duskpool is here. He can protect her, if she cannot. And she can protect him if something happens. She'd bet her life on it.
Scanning the undergrowth, the huntress sees the tell-tale signs of a mouse - but one to small for even the kits to enjoy. She lets it go, looking some more and promising to come back for it once it's had a good life. Better then what those Thunder Clanners would do.
"So, where'd you head off too?" The words shake her from the slippery slope her thoughts created. The sight of baring teeth and Figfeather yowling. Her brother had been at that altercation, too. She wasn't sure if it haunted him like it did her, and frankly she did not want to know at the current moment. She just wanted to relax and catch up with her role-model (though she would never call him such to his face). "Are the kits yours?" She smiles, turning to him and giving his shoulder a friendly bump. "Didja find a pretty molly? I'd love to meet 'er~" She mews playful, suggestively lifting her eyebrows then something clicks. Maybe it's his face expressions (or lack thereof) or the realization that if he had found a molly, there might be a reason why she didn't travel back to the clans with him. At any sign of her brother being uncomfortable, she would lick her shoulder. A silent sign from their kit hood days, a way of saying sorry.
Truthfully, she had been a bit mad when Duskpool just, left. She hadn't realized that he would be one to do that, and truthfully... well she would be able to sleep better at night now, not haunted by nightmares of what had or would happen to the tom. Not really one for conflict, especially so soon after everything, Sorrelsong simply ignored that little fact. They could talk about that later. Now... now would be positive - even if she had started the conversation with something that could be a bit more painful then she realized.
"Ya know, while you were gone, I made a friend. A real one, " She inwardly cringes, realizing how young she sounds. Like a kit again, but he knows her upbringing. He knows how she had problems relating to other cats, how she struggled greatly to even say 'hi'. "Florabreeze - You were there when she got her warrior name. She's very cool, reminds me of Shadowfire the way she talks an' such. I think you'd like her." She had seen the brief break in his mask at the ceremony. She smile he had given her. If she needed any more confirmation that Sky Clan was the place for her, that little smile gave it to her. She was here with her brother, with cats that cared for her and cats she cared about. She was so glad that she had searched for Duskpool all those moons ago, he was the reason she came but slowly, and with a twinge of guilt, she was gaining more reasons to stay.

✧ Out with lanterns, looking for myself

•  
• 
  
  
  
  — A chocolate point tabby molly with icy blue eyes and a slightly uneven pelt. She has small scars on her back, her shoulders and a slightly crocked tail.
  — 44 moons old; ages the 1st of every month
  — aro/ace. ; currently not looking
  — child of NPC and NPC :: sibling to Duskpool, Shadowfire and Smokefang
  — Mentoring Weedpaw : mentored Florabreeze
  — Sky Clan; warrior since 3/11/24 ; loyal to Orangestar, Florabreeze, and Duskpool
  — Not hard to befriend ; trusts easily
  — "speech", thoughts, attacking
  — peaceful powerplay allowed

​

 

[DUSKPOOL]

don't raise your voice . improve your argument .
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

It took little convincing to get the tom to agree, offering a small dip of his helm. It’d been a while since it was just the two of them, simply existing despite the grief and death that permitted the air, to rot their lungs and turn their blood into black goo. Besides. When would the next opportunity be before one of them inevitably died? His heart pulsed painfully, and once, Duskpool selfishly wished it was him that died first because then he wouldn’t have to deal with the unavoidable grief that choked him, clogging his throat and shattering his thoughts until he withdrew from everyone in self-isolation over the hefty guilt that weighed on his shoulders. Damnit. He huffed, barely audible with a shake of his helm, molten hues crinkling in disdain.

All this death has him thinking of the worst likely outcome, leaving him hollow, desensitized to it all, or maybe he was just unnaturally good at hiding everything till he couldn’t tell the difference. He supposed the older he got, the more foolish he’d become, or it was the other way around — just as foolish as he’d been since he had milk teeth.

“Fine with me, kiddo.” He rumbled — rich and booming. He couldn’t blame her. He’d been like that since … Duskpool held back a flinch, instead letting sharp teeth dig into the sensitive muscle, pulsating in tandem with the slow beat of his heart, the pain barely registering.

He wondered when she’d ask, where he’d gone off to and returned with two squirming kits, obsidian fur battered in blood that wasn’t quite all his own. He breathed, humming thoughtfully. Mine? He blinked, surprise fluttering across his face in fleeting motions, molten hues narrowing. He supposed they were, but not in the context that Sorrelsong was asking. No. They weren’t his. He huffed something silly, molten-honeyed hues taking on an amused sheen. “No.” He responded, never one to sugarcoat things, something someone would consider a turnoff.

He hadn’t thought of findin’ a mate since Sakura’s death, hell, findin’ love brought a mirthless chuckle to dark lips. He wasn’t bad-lookin’, but he sure was a liability if he ever settled down in SkyClan, mate nestled at his side with the occasional affectionate rasp of his tongue over their ears, brimming with unadulterated happiness.

“Ain’t found a molly, either.” He breathed, gaze bittersweet. He hummed, affection bubbling within molten hues to brush his snout against the top of her helm. “My grandkits.” He completed, helm shifting to peer down at her. “Yours too.” He chuffed, amused. He didn’t elaborate anymore, gaze sliding ahead with a conflicted expression. “Bringin’ ‘em to SkyClan was the safest option for them, not with the way their mother was — crazier than Sootstar had been.” He rumbled, timbre taking on a dangerous edge. He’d killed her. Protectin’ the last shred of a family he had left. Can’t deny that, now, old man, can ya? He thought humorlessly, molten hues growing distant despite the curl of his mangled ear, swiveling on a scarred helm, scouting potential prey.

His brow rose in curiosity, helm shifting in a go-on gesture. His expression softened. “Proud of ya, kiddo.” He rumbled, meaning every word. His gaze went slack, distant at the mention of Shadowfire and the rumbling boom that’d resonated throughout the forest — crumpled bodies barely hanging on. A merciful kill Blazestar had said and Duskpool when he didn’t see it that way, not when it’d been his younger brother, someone he’d promised to protect and failed miserably. “Does she now?” He echoed, shifting periodically, tone carefully blank. “I’m sure he’d love to meet her. Suppose those two would be talkin’ circles around us.” He admitted, chuffing.

“I’m happy for ya, kiddo.” He breathed, allowing a flicker of emotion to pass, a fleeting echo of unsaturated pride and familial love. ​

​

thought speech​

 

[Sorrelsong]

Kiddo. The word spread like wildfire under her fur. For a long time, the molly had been content with the way she interacted with others. She'd simply been happy to talk and make friends, but she always felt there was something missing. When other cats talked of their heritage, Sorrelsong was grateful she was not expected to comment. Kittypet. Sickly. Cold. The words marred her skin more then any scar could. She tried despratly not to think of them. Those who... abaonded her was a word to strong for them - it implied they cared. And truthfully, their faces only came to her in blurry nightmares. It was her brother's faces that brought her comfort. Warmth. Safety. She felt... is this what being happy felt like? Kiddo.
She hadn't felt this way in a long time. She soaked up the feeling like rays of sunshine on a lazy day. She almost felt full.
Despite the praise, she frowned at the news of grandkits. Not because they were not a weomce surprise - Sorrelsong loved kits and family so truly there was no downside there - but that their mother was reported worse then Sootstar? Her tail tip twitchs as she hums her condolences. She remembers the blood on his pelt. So that had been her's? Her stomach sinks, but says nothing.
Murder - causing the death of another - it was something Sorrel had done. She'd done it for her clan. And she's hated herself that much more ever sense. Duskpool... Yokai.... she tried to focus on the tom infront of her, on her brother. The sun felt hot on her back, it stung her exposed scars. Other clan cats, like Duskpool, seem okay with the fact of killing. They accept it. If they don't, they worship it. They wear their kills proudly, stoically. She was weaker then most. Another diffrence between her and Duskpool, not that the list needed another adendum. She turns, facing the wilderness.
"Hard to believe there are cats out there like that." She believed him of course, implictly, wholely, blindly. As a kit, Duskpool was a horrid story teller. It was not from lack of trying, he just lacked the ability to be anything but honest and rational so much so that any exaggeration that left his mouth felt so unwordly that it touched the stars. This was grounded. If he knew this to be true, this was simply fact. "I'm sorry - you must've.... She must've been special if she held your heart."
She turns and rubs her head on her brother's shoulder. The sun dissolves behind a cloud. Despite her unconditonal love for him, she knew how hard it was for Duskpool to - well - trust or love. And to have to untie that knot with his own paws...
Would you like to talk about it? The words waited on her tongue like saliva, but she hesitates. Though Duskpool allows her more conversational freedom then most, she still didn't want to push it. Especially with a topic so senstive.
"Want to play 'Get 'em'?" She asks instead. Talking feels much to akin to a spider's web right now. Lots to talk about, but all of it leading to a trap. Her head swamed with questions and offers of comfort. Duskpool, she figured, would not like that. He may like action, gestures instead. "Just like when we were kits, with... just like then." She smiles quickly, trying to hide her wince. They haven't sat down to talk about Shadowfire and Smokefang. She doubts they ever will, simply the type of cats they are, but the lack of closure leaves an open wound. Without more thought, Sorrelsong jumps back from him, landing with her paws spread and her tail held high.
"You get first move. Or are you too Yok-shy?"

✧ Out with lanterns, looking for myself

• 
  idk if i ever explictly stated, but i think it'd be cool if she thought murder was bad, then it's revealed that dusk killed their sibs and so she tries to rationalize it before getting mad lmao
• 
  
  
  
  
  
  — A chocolate point tabby molly with icy blue eyes and a slightly uneven pelt. She has small scars on her back, her shoulders and a slightly crocked tail.
  
  
  
  — 44 moons old; ages the 1st of every month
  
  
  
  — aro/ace. ; currently not looking
  
  
  
  — child of NPC and NPC :: sibling to Duskpool, Shadowfire and Smokefang
  
  
  
  — Mentoring Flora
  
  
  
  — Sky Clan; warrior since 3/11/24 ; loyal to Orangestar, Flora, and Duskpool
  
  
  
  — Not hard to befriend ; trusts easily
  
  
  
  — "speech", thoughts, attacking
  
  
  
  — peaceful powerplay allowed

​

 

[DUSKPOOL]

don't raise your voice . improve your argument .
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Hard to believe, huh? He thought idly, molten honey hues glazed over at the helpless thought. Would she forgive him? For everything he did? He might’ve never lashed out purposefully, but was he any better than Chi? He killed. Taken lives like it was breathin’ but came with a price — hauntin’ and exhausting. He’d been tired then. So fucking tired. The guilt. Death. Doin’ everythin’ he could by givin’ ‘em another day something to look forward to, but in the end, it’d been a fool’s game.

He breathed softly, helm tipped back to stare at the rustlin’ leaves above their heads, sunlight filtering through to kiss the undergrowth, dotted by the burnin’ warmth of life it carried.

He’d always been a fool.

He killed ‘em, inadvertently. He watched the life seep out of Shadowfire’s molten hues. Smokefang had already been dead when he arrived, face grotesque. His stomach ruled unpleasantly at the bitter reminder. They shouldn’t have been there. Duskpool would live with the guilt for the rest of his life, muddled as it’d been for some time, it never left, just hovering beneath the surface of blemished skin.

Damnit. Deadpan features shifted, lost in thought, barely hearing Sorrelsong’s playful advances — a kit game they used to play. And for the first time in his life, Duskpool wanted to cry somethin’ ugly. His sister deserved the world.

Just like then.

A lot changed since then, kiddo.

The words echoed fiercely, scattering anguish thoughts. “Not this time, kiddo.” He rumbled, molten hues dull, timbre eerily calm — deadpan despite the rolling thunder it carried.

It might be the last time he saw his younger sister starin’ at him with such trust. This will surely break her. He can’t hide the truth, not now. Even if she cursed him. Duskpool should have told her in the beginnin’ but havin’ her in his life again after so many moons alone … it’d been nice to have them in reach again.

A breathless sigh escaped, squarin’ his shoulders for the inevitable, Duskpool tacked on a bitter grimace. “Yer brothers — Smokefang and Shadowfire.” He began, timbre slow and robotic. “It was my fault.”

“They’d gone up ahead, chasin’ prey when it happened. It’d been an alright day, but sure as hell should’ve known better with my damn luck.” He laughed, soulless. “Upwalkers came, settin’ traps, walkin’ around with their firesticks, shootin’ the next thing that moved.” He muttered bitterly. “When I arrived, Smokefang’d been trapped, dead the second it activated.” His gaze fell far away. “I had to kill Shadowfire. I killed him.” It’d been cold logic then, wantin’ nothin’ more than to end Shadowfire’s sufferin’, gurglin’ on blood and ghosted whines, body wracked with shivers. It’d been a nightmare. Sure was one.

He never was one to gloss things over, but he sure was notorious for leavin’ things out. It was pointless, dancin’ around it when he could save ‘em the time and say the inevitable truth. ​

​

thought speech​

 

[Sorrelsong]

The air ripples with... something. A cloud passes over her brother's eyes. A rare sadness finds a home on his face. A soft thing, a silent emotion It weighs on his face, bringing the tiniest corners of his eyes down. Her heart lurches. If she could, she would wrap him in her warmth, give him a hug, maybe a squeeze if he'd let her. She wasn't sure if she dared. Could she even try? She hadn't since they were kits. Was she still allowed too?
"Not this time kiddo,"
Leaves crunched under her paw. She shifted forward, tail lowered. She had been a bad sibling... to not try to take this form him. She should've helped to carry the weight of Chi. She should've... done more. She saw it again, the effort to hold strong, to be competent in this clan, pride rendering him mute. She wasn't just another cat. She was his sister. She should provide comfort. That was her job. "Dusk-"
"Yer brothers — Smokefang and Shadowfire." He began, monotone voice steady and strong. As always. "It was my fault."
Then he laughed. And he looked away. To afraid to face her. To afraid... to arrogant? To ashamed? Her chest ached with each spasm of her heart. They were gone. And he hid the truth from her.
"Mercy kill." The consents feel from her mouth. She didn't believe it, but it was true. Facts. Harsh facts. She was still. A war in her chest. "That was a mercy kill, Dusk." Her words harsh. Her tone hopeful. Her tendons stiffened, relaxed, and then stiffened again.
He wouldn't. He wouldn't. He couldn't.
The promise she'd made to Shadowfire ran down her spine. It was the night before they were taken. She'd woken from a nightmare, afraid, crying out. He was the one who wrapped himself around her, groomed her until she calmed. She had been afraid she would be alone, the worst thing to ever happen to a kit. Alone without her brothers. Without her protectors, her playmates, her friends. The only cats in her corner, the only ones she could trust in this whole world. He promised that they'd never leave her. That they'd only ever look out for each other. They had joked then, that if they ever dared to make it outside that Yokai - Duskpool- that their oldest brother would lead them to safety. That he was steadfast where they were fickle, strong, capable, unafraid. That he was.... She used to look up to him. Did she still? Even though he was a....
Murderer.
"Mercy kill." The thought became symbols in her maw, tongue flopping aimlessly. It was by Star Clan's grace that the words were audible. She would stand him down, look him in the eye if he were still there. Instead, his form retreated, blurred, burned back into a small gray dot. Was that his shadow or another cat? She blinked. Her eyes were dry.
"Not you."
Was she flesh or bone?
"He was hurting. He was- He was hurting." She fought her throat for each word. It came out pitched. "Not you. Not - you should've told me. Why didn't you tell me. I'm. Our siblings. Our brothers." Raised now, not angry, but desperate. But for what?
"Our brothers."

✧ Out with lanterns, looking for myself

• 
  
• 
  
  
  
  
  
  — A chocolate point tabby molly with icy blue eyes and a slightly uneven pelt. She has small scars on her back, her shoulders and a slightly crocked tail.
  
  
  
  — 57 moons old; ages the 1st of every month
  
  
  
  — aro/ace. ; currently not looking
  
  
  
  — child of NPC and NPC :: sibling to Duskpool, Shadowfire and Smokefang
  
  
  
  — Mentoring Flora
  
  
  
  — Sky Clan; warrior since 3/11/24 ; loyal to Orangestar, Flora, and Duskpool
  
  
  
  — Not hard to befriend ; trusts easily
  
  
  
  — "speech", thoughts, attacking
  
  
  
  — peaceful powerplay allowed

​

 

[DUSKPOOL]

don't raise your voice . improve your argument .
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

His heart ached at the sight, molten copper brimming with unspeakable sadness that he ain’t too sure he could express properly. It was his fault that day and the what-ifs wouldn’t do a damn thing but make him go in circles till he dropped dead. He wanted to laugh now at the absurdity of it all, the sound dry and tinged with growing despair as unchecked wounds reopened, nearly swallowing the male whole.

“Mercy kill or not—” His breath shuddered, flank rising languidly, almost as if he didn’t want to say it. “I killed him.” Had to. He admitted again, not quite ready to look at Sorrel’s expression of betrayal and anger. He deserved it. The raw, undiluted anger and blame. If only he’d gotten there in time, or the sick, twisted part of him had thought countless nights ago that it should have been him with a bullet lodged between ribs, or his neck snapped by the force of the huntin’ trap. Something.


“I–” Why didn’t he tell her? Duskpool grinned ruefully, gaze muddled with untold emotion, distant and deadpan mixed within molten depths. “I ain’t all too ready to let ya go when I’d just gotten ya back, but it ain’t fair to ya.” He breathed unevenly, timbre a low, steady rumble despite the waverin’ turmoil. “It ain’t fair ya get to spend time with me and some days I wonder what would happen if it’d been me that died that day.” He stepped further back, not thinkin’ he deserved to be near his younger sister’s vicinity after all he’s done.

Ain’t that a laugh? Duskpool had thought he’d been gettin’ better with the self-blamin’ crap, but havin’ those emotions rear their ugly heads and the obsidian warrior felt right where he began. He ain’t about to be selfish when the one hurtin’ was standin’ before him lookin’ like that.

“I had promised ya that I’d protect ya younger ones, but ain’t that far from the truth?” He laughed bitterly, head tilted away from the molly in burnin’ shame, though that barely bled through with the guarded expression the old warrior wore. “I ain’t the tom ya used to know, kiddo.” He rumbled, mangled ear flickerin’. “I’ve done things I ain’t too proud of and this sure as hell is one of ‘em.” He sighed, timbre a low, thunderous thrum.

This was it. He didn’t have the energy to admit—the cold-hearted side of him knew that this would change eveyrthin’ Duskpool had gotten complacent in. Sorrelsong would see him as a monster, just like some folk he’d met before SkyClan, and hell, he ain’t gonna be mad if she pulled away, distancing herself from her littermate’s murderer. ​

​

thought speech​

 

[Sorrelsong]

Her chest caved in.
“Mercy kill or not—”
She blinked. She was a kitten again. The scent of home crawled down her spine, coming up through her ribs. The scent of her brothers, their laughter, them. The memories of their shining eyes, easy laughter, cuffs over the ears, they settled on her heart. The crunch of dry food reverberated through her jaw.
It had been rainy that day. Sorrelsong - then Circe - had been awoken by Yokai to help their brothers. A strike of thunder illuminated the sky as she pried nightmares from her brother's minds. She had softened their fear with jokes, with promises and stories of what laid beyond the walls of their home. Of cats with wings. Of stars that protected the animals beneath them.
It had all been a story then. It had all been a bed time story.
"I killed him."
Each beat of her heart shakes her bones.
“I ain’t all too ready to let ya go when I’d just gotten ya back, but it ain’t fair to ya.”
That lilt in his voice, that pain. Instinctively, she took a step forward, her shoulder meeting his. Their fur intertwined. Her weight shifted. A sob escaped her. Her forehead against his shoulder. Not a act of aggression. Not even an act of pity. It was an act fueled by a child that was scared. A child that just wanted her big brother to protect her, just like he had countless times before.
Her brother. Yokai. He had always been there for her. She breathed in his scent. It had changed. It was coarse. Gone was the warmth. Gone was the calm, still, stale air and to-clean peppermint. Now it was just pine needles and cats. Friends, family. She knew them all by name just by the scent. Fresh-kill hung on him, too. The smell of plump mice. Blood.
Her brother's blood was once there, too. It had been on his paws. Decorated his pelt, his face. Had he given them justice them? Would the stars honor them? Would the truth?
Lavender hung in the air. Tears tickled the edges of her lips.
Those things were all tall tales. Justice. Truth. Honor. The things Yokai stood for.
She had searched for him since the day she left that twoleg house. She had been mistaken.
This was not her brother. This could not be. This was not the kind, caring, stoic cat that had shielded her from their parents. This was not the cat she looked up to. It couldn't be. Yokai was better then that. Yokai was better then this. He would never do something like... that. Yokai would've figured it out. Duskpool - Duskpool was a weaker cat then her brother. He was a broken husk of a thing that had crawled inside the pelt of her brother. He was a monster that manipulated the flesh and bone she has once taken pride in knowing.
The fact that he hadn't crumbled under her weight was astounding.
“I’ve done things I ain’t too proud of and this sure as hell is one of ‘em.”
Is killing Chi? She couldn't be sure - not anymore.
How was she to mourn the death of Yokai if the thing that crawled in his pelt had his eyes?
"Fair," Her tongue lashes, blood thick on her breath. "Fair would've- I - Fair would've,"
Fair would've left me with no brothers. Fair would mean you were rotting. Fair would've left you alone. Fair. There is nothing fair about this.
"If things were fair we wouldn't be having this conversation." She couldn't stop herself. She choked on the words, heaving them into the open air. "You would've died. Slowly. Painfully. You would be watching us from Star Clan, having our life moments without you. You don't deserve Ghost and Parselykit. You stole that from Shadowfire. You don't deserve to of seen me. You stole that Smokefang. I don't wonder what would of happened if it’d been you that died that day - I know what would've happened. We would be a happy family."
She met his eyes. Scared. Shaken. Tired.
"Without you." The words were a whisper. But they were true.
There they were, two cats in desperate need of someone who loved them unconditionally. Two cats who needed grace. A cat that loved his siblings and his family, who was willing to do anything for them. A cat that only ever wanted the best for her brother, who would never of dreamed of betraying her kin. And she turned away.
Without a second thought, Sorrelsong would turn and leave.

✧ Out with lanterns, looking for myself

• 
  
• 
  
  
  
  
  
  — A chocolate point tabby molly with icy blue eyes and a slightly uneven pelt. She has small scars on her back, her shoulders and a slightly crocked tail.
  
  
  
  — 57 moons old; ages the 1st of every month
  
  
  
  — aro/ace. ; currently not looking
  
  
  
  — child of NPC and NPC :: sibling to Duskpool, Shadowfire and Smokefang
  
  
  
  — Mentoring Flora
  
  
  
  — Sky Clan; warrior since 3/11/24 ; loyal to Orangestar, Flora, and Duskpool
  
  
  
  — Not hard to befriend ; trusts easily
  
  
  
  — "speech", thoughts, attacking
  
  
  
  — peaceful powerplay allowed

​