sensitive topics BRIDGE BURNER [ ✦ ] scar "ceremony"

[Bluepool]

TW: for self mutilation

Being holed up in horseplace is the last place she wants to be. Her heart is like a caged animal, it years for freedom, for sleeping under the stars and racing about the moorlands. It years for home. She has felt this feeling before, this homesickness, it was during the time the rogues had driven them from their homes and they had been made to take refuge first in ThunderClan and then ShadowClan. Funny how that was not very long ago but now, looking back, it felt like seasons had passed since then. What had possessed her sister, she wonders, to steal kits from the very same clan that had offered them shelter, from a clan who had helped them fight the rogues out of their home even though they had no obligation to?

She paces in front of the grand entranceway. Outside, the skies are a dark gray, casting the land in shadows. Thunder rumbles in the distance and soon, the clouds would open up and rain would pour down on them. In these conditions, she had to admit the barn was kinda nice. They would not have to step foot outside in order to remain well fed. Perhaps this is why the cats of horseplace favored it here so much. Easy prey was something she would not be so quick to let go of either if she did not already have a home she loved so dearly.

Minutes pass when finally she stops her pacing, a paw lifted to scratch at her chest. Her chest. With the very same paw, she parts her own fur, golden eyes cast downwards to glimpse the scar her sister had inflicted on her when she had agreed to be a part of her council. Back then it had been an honor. Now, it was reminder. She finds herself sneering, lips pulled back in disgust. She was not her sisters dog anymore. Sootstar had made it clear that if she ever were to see her again it would be the last time, whether that meant Bluepool fell at her paws or Sootstar at hers she is uncertain. What she is certain of is that this scar no longer represented what it was meant to. "You don't own me anymore" she says softly and then, with her own claws she digs into flesh, ripping a line into her skin and striking through the scar, creating an X mark on her chest. Its a deep mark, and while she flinches during the act she does not stop nor does she cry out. This was a necessity, a ritual that needed to be performed if she ever hoped to see herself as anything other than Sootstar's sister, her lackey willing to follow her every command.

Blood drips onto the straw and Bluepool sits, staring as it runs through her fur like a river. I'm free now she thinks. But would that ever be true? Only time would tell.

​

 

[SUNSTAR]

His own scar had long since stopped its bleeding. In the heat of battle, Sunstride could not even comprehend what had been done to him. That the loyalist's claws carving across his chest would mar the one that had been left moons ago. Long before WindClan's final split, and before even Bluepool joined her sister's council — he had sat beneath the stars and offered himself on cracking ice. Spoke to her with a clever tongue, promising something but never enough. Never all that Sootstar wanted. At the time it had been only a worry. He took his oaths with great weight, and he could not trust her entirely. Learning to do so had cost him greatly. But in that battle, he had found it returned. His courage. His rage. His hatred of another's leash. Even fate's.

Hollowcreek's claws set him loose from his chains. Like Bluepool does now, he had freed himself.

Even having come upon her soon enough to stop it, the golden tom did not think to. His face shares a sympathetic grimace as he claws pull through her skin. Blood seeps from the pale fur of her chest, staining her pelt crimson from the root. Without the adrenaline of war to numb her pain, Sunstride knows well enough how badly it hurts. He could chastise her for her foolishness when the threat of Sootstar's rogues sits so closely above their heads. He could mourn the scarce supplies that her wound would cost them. Instead, he hums a quiet warning of his arrival and comes to sit beside her as he stares into the coming storm.

"You should allow the rain to cleanse your wound, when the times come. It will leave less in your fur than moss, I would think. And there is plenty here to make a warm nest with; you will not freeze." His voice lulls to silence. Comfortable first, and then prickling. Quietly he asks, "Do you feel free of her yet?"

𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐘 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓  ╱╱ 𝐈𝐒 𝐀 𝐕𝐔𝐋𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 〚 11.22.2023 〛 —————«

• OOC. —
• 

  SUNSTRIDE. WINDCLAN DEPUTY & MOOR RUNNER.
  ——– HE – HIM – HIS ╱╱ 48+ MOONS OLD, ADULT.

  NPC x NPC, LONERS. MATE TO WOLFSONG; FATHER TO BEARPAW, SINGEDPAW, RIVEPAW, SUNLITPAW AND FEATHERPAW. MENTORING SCORCHPAW.
  
  TH ╱╱ LARGE CHOCOLATE ROSETTE TABBY, ICY EYES.

• "speech"

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[RATTLEHEART]

There is the smell of blood on the air. Thick and sharp, metallic in a way that makes Rattleheart recoil and part their jaws, as if unsure of what they had encountered. They had been pacing slowly around the outer corners of the barn, looking like something akin to a patrolling guard dog. Though they didn't feel particularly impressive, instead using the movement to get used to walking freely on their own again. They didn't want to remain idle for too long, and risk thick scar tissue running down their side making it difficult to wander in the future. In fact, they at first thought that the smell had come from themself, twisting around so that they could inspect the patchwork that had been done over the large wound. But the gathered cobwebs were still firmly in place, no shifting or ripping having exposed their injury to the elements.

So they followed the scent, heart leaping into their throat when they saw Bluepool and Sunstride sitting together near the entranceway. For a brief moment they wondered if something had happened. If one of them had snapped, or if Bluepool had decided she had made a mistake - it probably wouldn't be difficult to get back in Sootstar's good graces if she showed up with the corpse of the leader's ultimate betrayer. However, it didn't take them long to realize that no infighting had taken place. No, the matching wound across the former lead warrior's chest was far too deliberate, etched in her flesh as if she were made of stone. They could understand why she had done it, though worry glittered in their eyes as they grew close. "Don't forget to cover it, too. I'm sure the cats that volunteered to go along with Wolfsong found enough cobwebs that you should be able to." Their mind immediately jumps to the practical, because they feel like they need to. They didn't have the same connection as Bluepool and Sunstride, thankfully spared of any kind of ritual scarring.

Though as they took settled into a seat nearby - their side throbbing in pain at the movement - they found their thoughts drifting to Scorchstreak. She had also been marked by Sootstar once upon a time, and they couldn't imagine she was happy about it anymore. Not when the fanatical leader had manipulated Scorchstreak's own child into staying as part of her loyalists. Somewhat selfishly though, they hoped that she wouldn't do something similar - they didn't want to smell the vicious sting of their sister's blood on the air again. "They were just another way for her to show her control over everything... weren't they?" Their ears were pinned back as they mused aloud, one paw hovering over their own blank chest. They had never felt particularly sad over not earning a spot on Sootstar's council, but they were especially glad they hadn't now.
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[ PENNED BY EO ]​

 

[HOUNDTHISTLE]

"BECAUSE COWBOY DAN'S A MAJOR PLAYER IN THE COWBOY SCENE"​

---

Smell of blood was always worrying, but it especially was now. His head swung around, eyes pulled wide as he perked his ears for any signs of battle, for an attack but there were none. No caterwauls, no screams, no spitting tones of how they were 'traitors' and his gaze turned curious. Stepping carefully, Houndthistle made his way where Rattleheart, Sunstride, and Bluepool sat and that's when he noticed. The crimson that stained and dripped down her chest. The others spoke more of if she felt free, how to tend the wound, things Houndthistle rarely worried himself over. Instead, the goliath came and sat on the other side of Bluepool, lowering his head to look at the blood as it dripped. "Gon' need someone t' help ya clean that, huh?" He mused, remembering their few passing interactions. Talking about how their scars happened, her teasing him to help her fix her messed up fur when he'd ran into her. His eyes flicked back to her, his good one searching her features while the other searched the empty air, not looking at her. "If ya want, I can make yer nest. Give ya time t' let the rain cleanse that," He offered, graveled tones dipped low for comfort.

Rattleheart's question though sent his mind also into overdrive. He wasn't ambitious, so becoming part of Sootstar's council never appealed to him, but he had been as complicit as the rest. He was as deadset on killing "traitors," "defending Windclan's honor" and everything else Sootstar spouted because she was Windclan. She had let him join, let his son join, and given his meaningless life some purpose. But things turned onto their head when she had led her clan into battles back to back, so soon after they had just recovered from other things. "It's like she expected us t' have as many lives as she did," He thought aloud, though that line of thinking wasn't correct either. It wasn't that she thought they were as invincible as she was, but that she just didn't care. To Sootstar, they weren't individuals in her clan, they were tools to be used and discarded as she wished. Houndthistle had done his best to not stand out, that much benefitted him, but he still had been one of those tools. He flicked an ear in contempt, pulling his lips back in a stern line as he, too, stared at the red droplets between Bluepool's paws.

---

"speech"

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OOC CURRENT STATS INTERACTION RULES

• text
• Physical Health
  
  100%
  ⤷ left eye is blinded
  Mental Health
  
  98%
• 
  Single | Bicurious | Not actively looking | Interested in Wolfsong, Scorchstreak, Sootspritespark
  
  Houndthistle is both an easy one to gain the trust of and impossible to gain the trust of. He'll rarely reveal personal information or be vulnerable-if he's even capable of such things-but he will show trust in his willingness to lay his life down. To gain it, he needs evidence that you're loyal and strong, same as him, otherwise he understands he may one day have to come head to head with you.
  
  — will start fights / will not flee / may show mercy
  — excels at Fighting, Tracking, Following Orders, Intimidation
  — poor at climbing, swimming, stealth, talking, strategy, politics
  — sounds like: deep, gravelled and thick with a sort of country accent / Arthur Morgan
  — smells of iron, leather, and wood
  — speech is #435E75

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[FEATHERSPINE]

The stench of blood had Featherpaw's chocolate fur thistle-prickling, but when narrowed eyes sought the source she only found a small gathering. Her father at her mentor's side, Rattleheart and Houndthistle there too- when Featherpaw closed in, she saw blood pinkening the paleness of Bluepool's chest. The frown darkening her expression grew more severe at the sight- it was a sloppy mark, crossing out a scar Featherpaw had come to understand as vaguely ceremonial. All of Sootstar's council had them, didn't they?

Now, though... the era of Sootstar was over. At least for them- and for Bluepool, to let go of all of that was probably hard. Featherpaw's glare held steadfast upon his mentor for a few long moments, an unmoving slimmer. Within slit-pupils there could have laid a challenge, a distaste- why are you using your claws in this way, instead of sharpening mine?

Instead, he muttered, "Well, she isn't controlling us anymore."

Featherpaw lifted her chin as she said it, an air of unspoken pride radiating from her. Respect glittered in her gaze, harsh as it was- all silent, but tangible nonetheless. If control was what Sootstar had, what Bluepool had to break free from- if control had made Sootstar turn poisonous claws onto his father- then it was a good thing she did not have it over them any longer.​

✦ penned by pin​

 

[milkthorn.]

he didn't know why he was so dumb to believe everything in windclan was alright. that Sootstar was a formidable leader. but he wasn't the only one. lead warriors bare her mark upon their chest. he had noticed it long ago, but it didn't click that it was her mark for a long time.

he had only recently realized a lot of things that his apprentice mind was too self-absorbed to actually notice. and he hated looking back, hated seeing the shit he would cause because he was an idiot once upon a time.

but how different would things be now if he wasn't? he quite enjoyed his own presence even now, but he was quick to want to understand and enjoy others company now- without being a dick.

he'd been restless tonight. the rain drenching his fur as he lay against the wall with half lidded eyes. and then blood filled his nostrils. he was quick to stand up, to worry that Sootstar had come to rid of them. until he realized that bluepool was bleeding and Sunstride as well as others seemed to not panic.

context clues and words added up. he was not close to bluepool, but he still respected her. he did now at the very least, but he had no respect when he was younger. the moor runner stood up, padding forward on long limbs. "I can go make a comfy nest for you, bluepool. I'll do what I can at least. I think I saw some loose chicken feathers...?" he would offer this, unsure of what else he could say.


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