circle of frenemies | rogue discussion

[Gin]

Annoying. Terribly annoying. He assumed the WindClanners would hope that the coming winter would be enough of a push to ensure their support, but they neglected to understand the stubborness of most rogues. Food was scarce, the coyotes a constant threat, but to bow to some strange cat who spoke to the stars sounded like insanity. Off their rockers all of them, those windy fools. He had no interest in joining their group and if cats starved then it was just how things were, the strong would perservere, the weak would crumble. Such was life. The price to pay for easy food in a clan sounded no different than becoming a kittypet, strip your dignity and put on your little bows; become soft and pliable and easy to crush. Gin's tail lashed as he leapt upward onto the metal roofing piled up alongside the old shed, the scent of the moor cats had faded and he had mulled it all over in his head for some time before giving a rising yowl for attention.
"...thoughts?" He asked, settling down to sit, ears pricked upward and alert to take in just what the general census was. He had to gauge the mood of these rogues before making any particular calls and while he would love nothing more than to declare war on this WindClan and take the offering they gifted by force, he would see how the others felt. A foolish king made decisions that would incite riots, a clever one would manipulate the masses to lean on his side first. Step one: pretend you gave a damn what they thought. "I see this as nothing but a trick. A demand to be subservient. They want us to follow their little clan laws and bend to their sky gods wills..."

​

 

[Jasperglare]

Here he was, chewing on a bone just Infront of the roofing Gin was on. His ears swiveled to listen to him. The raggedy bastard had thought the whole thing funny, really. What did those clan cats want with them?

"Dunno. Sounds like they're too big for their furs, honestly." He said, tossing the bone away with no regard for who it may hit.

"Just coming in here like that. Man. Maybe they're desperate. It would be a mercy to help them out~" He continued with a laugh.

"Sure hope their leader offers a compelling suggestion, otherwise I'd love to see if they really do have nine lives." He continued with a vicious grin.

That would cause SUCH an uproar among this clan wouldn't it? Oh, he lived for the DRAMA.

​

 

[GHOSTWAIL]

"Blessed are they... given gifts from the stars themselves." The gaunt she-cat unsheathes her claws, examining each gnarled needle-sharp talon with unusual interest. "They call themselves strong and extend paws as if they are our saviors." She extends one talon until it is almost painful, stretching and straining her paw before relaxing her claws back into their sheathes and placing her foot down to cover with her tail.

"Say we take their olive branch - who's to say we don't just feign loyalty to this blessed queen and then take out her empire from inside its walls. Pledges are only words, afterall..."​

- you call for peace when it suits you​

 

[Nathanos]

HELLO, MY NAME IS MR FEAR​

---

The tom sits in bitter shade, his one eye glowing like fire against the cold. His own thoughts had swirled throughout his mind for some time now, but there was one point in the matter that not even the prideful Nathanos would deny. Times were difficult. Food was scarce. Lives were being lost where they could have been saved. But what he know about such things? Here, it had always been survival of the fittest. The idea of a clan was mind boggling, protecting and feeding one another, following some strange code, believing in ghosts. To an outsider, these were foolish things. Nathanos feels uncertain.

"I'm not convinced of their offer just yet." The tall tabby responds with a grunt. "Why do they want us? Rogues and outsiders? They're clearly struggling with something, especially when they seem so eager to remind us of how strong they are." There were parts of the story being left out, of that the brute is certain. Perhaps it would come out in time. His eyes glimmer as they dance toward Jasper, the tom's expression that of stone. "They don't have nine lives." Nathanos snorts with clear disbelief, "Those are silly rumors." As blunt as always, but the tom is certain in his belief, and he's fairly sure that the other rogues share his opinion no matter how they might joke about it.

"There are no ghosts. There are no... nine lives or sky gods. Just a bunch of cultists with addled minds. What's real are the coyotes, and hungry bellies." The tabby points out with a twitch of his long tail.

"Maybe we should just tell them that if they help us run the coyotes off, that we'll agree to join their little group. Then, once the coyotes are out of the way, we send the clan cats packing empty-pawed. They can solve their own problems, but there's no reason we can't try and use them to solve ours." A bit devious, perhaps, but it would benefit the rogues as a whole if the coyotes weren't an issue anymore. And besides, it was safer with more cats. Perhaps with rogues and clan cats together, the feat could be achieved, and nobody would have to die. Well, except one or two of the coyotes, perhaps.

Nathanos doesn't care for toppling their supposed empire, like Banshee suggests. Needless slaughter was never something that he'd willfully throw himself into. But... there was some point in that line of thinking. The brute's one eye flickers toward the pale, skeletal figure that was the ghastly she-cat.

"A potential path. If the coyotes are too troublesome to get rid of, taking the clan territory might be just as good a plan." The scarred tom adds in apparent agreement. It didn't mean the rogues had to storm into the territory and kill everyone, but they'd have the element of surprise if the clan cats invite them in first. That might be good enough to send them all running.​

 

[GHOSTSTRIKE]

---

It hadn't been his intention to get involved with these cats. After the coalition fell apart and he and Nineteen got themselves out, Ghost had fully intended for things to stay exactly like that; just him and his brother. It was the first taste of freedom either of them had ever gotten and quite frankly he'd been hoping to hold onto it for a bit longer than just a few short weeks, but it seemed the other half of the duo wasn't quite so interested in living a solitary life.

And now, weather he liked it or not, Ghost was as much a part of this as anyone.

"I doubt they'll agree to help us chase off coyotes if they expect us to be leaving with them. Wouldn't be much point in it." he said as he took a seat among the gathering cats, towering frame held tall and dark amber eyes unreadable. It was a habit, this stiff formality of his, something the rogues were probably used to by now. "Taking their land could be an option, though. Once we're in they won't be keeping their guards up the entire time. All depends on how many cats they actually have an if they're worth a damn ina fight."

Of course, the rogues had no idea what they were really dealing with at this point. The three cats who'd come to speak with them hadn't looked haggard or worse for wear, implying they were well fed and kept fit- at least on a surface level. There was no telling if they were actually trained to use the assets they had or not, though. If the group didagree to join with them they'd at least get to see what they were dealing with first hand, though marching the entire group in blind could pose problems of their own.

"We could always send a smaller group to get a feel for things. Have five or six cats say they want to go back with her, then once they have an idea of things they can report back to let the rest of us know exactly what we're dealing with." It had been a common enough practice back in the coalition, where cats would be sent out ahead in smaller groups to get an idea of what kind of trouble they may have to face that day, and it was a viable option here as well.
​

---

rogue - male - 25 months - single - a very tall, muscular tabby with dark gray fur and white markings. heavily scarred with dark amber eyes

 

[Umberfang]

Whiskey — We watched him drink his pain away a little at a time
Sage green hues watched from the depths of the darkness casted by that of the sun against rooftops and concrete floors. Watching as Gin spoke of not trusting such things of these clan cats, Banshee commenting about how this queen was blessed with lives and Nathanos objecting to the idea of these sky cats. The way of the clan cats was idly odd with their belief in something in the sky and their claim for more than one life. It was more cult like than anything else and strange, but there was a liking to Banshees' idea; taking them down from the inside out.

"I concur, dear father, Banshee has not a bad idea there," drawled a chocolate tortie from the depths of the shadows, padding forward with a head raised defiantly with a flick of a dark-colored tail, "They don't want us for loyalty nor anything to do with us- but we can rid the moors of them," A wicked grin cross the toms' face as he glanced at the ghastly she-cat then to Nathanos, "Shes just looking for cats to sacrafice for her own game- but what if we turn her game on her?"

The young cat known as Whiskey approached that of the white fur of Banshee, "Why should they have the whole of the moors when they do nothing but shed blood and preach nonsense of gods," He continued onwards with a gesture of a front paw and a small shrug of his lithe shoulders, "They too where rogues once, are they really any better than us?" Whiskey gave a slight smirk and sat down beside Banshee, curling his tail behind him. "speech"

tags​

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[speckleclaw.]

While he had conveniently missed the actual clan cats themselves, word spread fast, especially when it was something to be mocked around here. It wasn't a good first impression, from what he gleaned out of ruffled fur and snarling insults afterward. Not to mention the clan cats criticized their stench. Yeesh. Sam, for once, didn't think the group smelled that bad ― he still sniffed beneath an arm self-consciously when he first overheard that. Considering he was hanging around Gin's ragtag band of rogues for the sake of easy food and protection, it was probably important to show up to the discussion.

The red tabby plopped himself nearby, enough to sufficiently participate. Needless to say, a lot of the fancy metaphors went right over his head. "Dunno what'd we do with an olive branch," he mumbled after Banshee spoke, to nobody but himself for the most part. Something about invading the clan territory all sneakily didn't sit right with him. Call it paranoia, but if cats could organize into a semi-functional group, who's to say they couldn't organize a plan to deceive them all in kind? Sam huffed out a sigh. He doubted he could have much of a say in the matter. And yet, his mouth started running on its own, little to no prior thought fueling his speculations. "Sounds kinda risky to me. I mean ― they probably have some type of backup plan in case the shady ass cats they're inviting try anything funny."​

 

[Vixengaze]

( ♬ ) A slender frame of chocolate and fawn would recline along a fence line not far from where the self-proclaimed leader of this little rag tag group sat. A smile curled onto her lips as she listened with a thoughtful expression to the suggestions and thoughts of the cats around her.

Getting them to believe he genuinely cared? Gin was at least a semi intelligent cat it would seem. Her tail would lazily swish to and fro before she chuckled in clear amusement. "I think you're all forgetting something rather important." Her tone was akin to a sirens call, soft and melodious as her half-lidded eyes slowly blinked with their usual temptation.

Lilith had only joined the group recently, the chimera molly seeing value in remaining with a group with the cold days coming and the coyotes now snapping at their heels for territory and food. She would push herself up into a sitting position, licking her chest despite it's already perfect state before continuing, "There are more then just these 'Windclan' cats out there. Haven't any of you heard that there are other clans taking up spots in the other areas too? If we turn on them and drive them out, they may just come back with friends."

Of course, Lilith had no knowledge of the current bad relations between the moor cats and the other groups, but still she wasn't about to keep them out of the count. "I agree with the white coated molly, but if we are to join this group and then betray them, we should do it in a way that they can't ignore."

A glint would enter Liliths' intense copper orbs as she turned her head to look up at Gin, "Learn what their beliefs are, and use them against them. Overtake them from the inside out." ​

( I'M THE BAD GUY ; DUH )

 

[GOATFOOT]

Tricks, schemes, and scams... most in their age grew sick of such games, Goat did not. He'd never pass the opportunity to mess with stupidly ignorant cats, the audacity this... clan had... Asking them to join as if it was the rogues whom needed them. Stubborn as an ox Goat was, failing to see the concern in his group's current situation. Prey was growing scarce, and the coyotes did not help, they were slaying rogues left and right.

"...I concur, wonderful opportunity..." He rasps against a cool breeze, "The idea of taking them out from the inside could work... higher chance of succeeding than full on attacking them. We take over and by mid leaf-bare we'll have ourselves a new set of land and plentiful prey." It wouldn't be easy, no of course not, but nothing about this life was easy. Goat did not wish for it to be. "...If what they boast is true.... ​

---

Spoiler: TAGS 🐐 11/22

( primary character / "speech" / ic opinions )​

╰ ★ ჻ 001 GENERAL INFORMATION ,
· GOAT, male — he / him
╰ ‣ 144 moons . libra . ages on the first
╰ ‣ rogue . mountain-born .

╰ ★ ჻ 002 VISUALS & AESTHETICS ,
· DOMESTIC FELINE, smell of fir trees and late rainfall , status — 100%
╰ ‣ blue and white tom . scar over right eye . amber eyes

╰ ★ ჻ 003 MENTALITY & MANNERISMS ,
· ESTJ-A ❝ EXECTUTIVE ❞ , Slytherin, Lawful Evil
╰ ‣ Blunt, impatient, stubborn, loud-mouthed, short-tempered / warms up to become soft-hearted, protective, and considerate with those he grows close to.
╰ ‣ finds moderate difficult in relating to others . can be cruel, rarely shows mercy
╰ ‣ Appreciates titles such as "sir & mister"

╰ ★ ჻ 004 INTERACTIONS & RELATIONSHIPS ,
· BEETLE x HAWTHORNE
╰ ‣ homosexual .
╰ ‣ skilled fighter . average hunter .
╰ ‣ will start fights . unlikely to flee .
╰ ‣ attack in underline . penned by user @ava.

 

[Nathanos]

HELLO, MY NAME IS MR FEAR​

---

The brute is listening quietly as the conversation progresses. Now it seemed they were to infiltrate the group, learn of their beliefs, and then stage some sort of coup. Quite frankly, that sounded like a whole lot of work, and with such little room for mistake. Perhaps Nathanos was just not so keen on the long game, but if the other rogues agreed, then he supposed it was probably worth the effort. Of course, just as Lilith had brought up, there were the other clans to worry about. No doubt they could be troublesome.

"Do all the clans like each other? They all live in separate groups, so why would any of them help this WindClan?" The towering tom inquires. He isn't opposing the plan, more-so just trying to gain more information. Nathanos had never bothered to learn much about the groups. Up until this point, he had practically pretended that they didn't exist. After all, what did their presence matter to him? "If we are to attack in leaf-bare, we should insure that we're all better fed than the WindClan cats. Share food between ourselves so we can quickly overpower the starving WindClanners." After all, the rogues knew full well what it was like to starve and lose strength. If anyone could take advantage of such a thing, it was those who had experienced it the most.​

 

[HEATHERHUNTER]

✧˖*°࿐ Slick rows of wren-feather fur wreathed her stiff spine, drafting an imposing silhouette at the fringes of the gathered cats. What shell Heather convincingly held across herself could not shield her mind from the doubts that fletched themselves to her thoughts eagerly. These, clans, were made up of many, many with strict expectations. They even had star-spirits to watch over them- keep them in line. It was unsettling, and imagining herself in a place like that stitched a phantom weight onto her shoulders.

Still, there was a plan afoot. Tufted sconces listened to the others’ plotting, uncertainty burning the back of her throat. If any were to look at her, Heather would dip her head thoughtfully, a flinty determination catching their gaze. Bullshit. Not for the first time (today), she wondered if any of them could see through it. Lashings of strength and stoicism… fragile as a bird’s egg.

Within the smattering of commentary, she muttered out a low "Agreed, " slipping it in as Goat took a breath. Organically, she hoped. Idly, the molly looked for Gristle. Life was much easier when he spoke for her- assuming he spoke right.​

══╡ IM JUST ROTTEN TO THE CORE, SUCH A BORE ; SUCH A WANNABE╞══

 

[MAGGOTCRAWL]

The moorlanders proposition was unusual, unexpected. Clan cats, seeking to recruit those who call Gin's group home, seeking to build an army.

Ridiculous. Despicable. Idiotic.

Haven't they enough members? Haven't they plenty mouths to feed? Leaf-bare is coming, and this WindClan, wants to burden themselves with more? Wants to claim Gin's group as their own? Give them funny little names under the claim of ghosts that live in the stars?

What truly were their motives, here?

Maggot listens closely to the discussion before him. Thoughts and opinions shared, their own ideas slowly building. Destroy them from the inside. The white tom likes this idea - likes the thought of stealing the moorlanders food, taking up their time, and then - slowly but surely - causing their demise, destroying their leader, rising above them all. Gin's group will be the strongest in the forest, then. Excellent.

"If they're looking to us to strengthen their ranks, they'll have to keep us strong," he adds in, "More food for us, less food for them. Especially if they need us in the midst of leaf-bare." ​

 

[SLATESNARL]

Crowds. People. Skies above, it's been so long since Slate has been around this many cats at once. Seasons of living on his own had forged an independent, hardened tom out of him, one who didn't need the protection and aid of other cats to survive... That is, until just recently.

Slate did not enjoy the idea of grouping up with all of these strangers, especially when it was practically against his will, but he had survived on his own for this long. He wasn't going to die at the slobbering jaws of a coyote. However, with the idea of joining one of the clans on the table... His stomach twisted into a knot. The tom couldn't return to his birthplace, he couldn't stay here... Did he even have any other options? What if he journeyed to a faraway place and his efforts turned up fruitless?

Many cats gathered to speak their minds on the topic at hand. The suggestions that their "loyalty" to this Sootstar would only act as a facade reassured Slate, while the idea of a future coup seemed a bit more ambitious... but perhaps not impossible. If this clan promised to feed them and keep them healthy, then they might stand a chance at overthrowing the leader.

He hasn't spoken much in his short time with these other rogues, but when it came to strategizing, Slate simply couldn't help himself. As someone who had been exposed to plenty of battle planning and devising as a youth, the idea of formulating a devious scheme in order to overtake a large group of cats... It piqued his interest, to say the least. They claimed a large portion of territory, one with bountiful prey and resources. If Slate were to take part, he'd never go hungry again. His mouth nearly waters at the thought.

"It would be in our best interest to get an idea of where the other clans stand, too. Maybe this Wind Clan doesn't have any allies to speak of at the moment. Maybe sabotage from the inside wouldn't be such a difficult task." While there was a chance the other clans wouldn't like their ragtag group coming in and destroying WindClan from the inside... what if WindClan had enemies that would appreciate the overthrowing of their leader? What if they could form a mutual agreement with the neighboring groups? It was a bit optimistic, but perhaps the rogues could find a way to make themselves to be looked upon more favorably.

Amber eyes flicking from cat-to-cat, Slate sighed, "Either way, I don't think we have much of a choice right now. The coyotes attacked us and they'll only attack again. Livin' out here is a fucking death sentence."​

 

[Gin]

The general consensus seemed to be permit themselves to be subservient to get within the ranks of this clan and rip it up from the inside but he felt a hollow knot form in his throat at the idea of even that. Easy access to food and without his authority would make them compliant, they would bend like branches in the wind and forget their true focus; they would simple become part of the clan in time if left alone and he knew he'd no longer to keep his claws in things should it come down to it. The idea of it all spiraling and of even pretending to bow to some moorland queen was disgusting.
As he sits there he recalls the coyote attack not even a few days prior and wrinkles his nose, though his head nods in silent consideration as each cat speaks in turn but he has stopped listening for the most part, he has stopped caring about their opinions because the wardrums in his head are ever louder and he only wants to make them stop.
"What we know is that we do not know enough it seems. When the WindClanners return we will gauge their force then and decide from there."
The tabby rises to stand, tail high and he lingers briefly where he is as he feels the bones in his legs pop uncomfortably; eventually they'd be holding these meetings on the ground. With a huff Gin turned to jump down from the derelict shed and stomp off into it, disappearing beneath the tent fold of the bent metallic roof.
​