DO YOU EVER FEEL LIKE A PLASTIC BAG — fireworks

[LIONPAW]

〔✦〕It started out as a routine evening border patrol toward the Twolegplace. Lionpaw was quickly becoming familiar with SkyClan's borders and how they were marked, and despite the recent dangers surrounding murderous rogues, the group had yet to encounter any alarming sights or acrid stenches. In the back of Lionpaw's mind lingers a fear of finding a clanmate dead or being attacked by a flurry of razor-sharp teeth and claws, but as the patrol begins stalking along the fence line, the feeling begins to wane.

Then, suddenly, a loud BOOM shatters Lionpaw's sense of peace. Bright colors and sparkles illuminate the dark skies, filling the apprentice's widened gaze. The sky was on fire! "Ah!" The chocolate torbie point screamed, fur prickling on end like static as they ducked for cover behind a nearby tree trunk.

Ears ringing, body shrinking down toward the ground, Lionpaw flinches as yet another BOOM rattles the air. "What's happening?!" Lionpaw mews to his clanmates, peeling his eyes open and looking to them for guidance. Was SkyClan in danger? They should get back to camp right away!

coming down ( is the hardest thing ) //

• ooc. @CROWSIGHT mentor tag
  
• LIONPAW —— apprentice of skyclan , mentored by crowsight ✦ penned by beatles
  ✦ trans male / he/they pronouns / 7 moons & ages every 9th
  ✦ single / bisexual & monogamous
  ✦ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / underline & tag account when attacking
  —— easy combat difficulty / won't start fights, won't kill
  
  ✦ "speech", thoughts, all opinions are ic
  ✦ biography — msg on discord for plots — toyhouse
  
• 
  
  

  a longhaired chocolate torbie point with blue eyes. a silky, cream-colored pelt is adorned with chocolate points. his points are splashed with ginger spots. tabby patterns also stripe around their dark limbs and face.

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[DOEBLAZE]

Ah, she'd forgotten how nice it was to have an apprentice . . . her tenure as Blazingpaw's mentor had been all too brief—a combination of injury on both sides and her time in the nursery—and ended prematurely. She sees him around on patrols with Coyotecrest sometimes, and he seems to be getting on well despite it all . . . she'll be a warrior not too soon, hm? She'll do her grandfather proud, she thinks with some assurance; it's quick to dissipate when the question turns on herself. Am I? She does her best ( or at least she thinks she does ), but there's the ever - present nagging: is her best not enough? Might she reach the stars one day and find a turned back?

" Make sure to keep your eyes peeled along this border, " she mrrows to @cloudypaw~, thinking ruefully of recent death. She pulls as many patrols as she can, but she's only one cat . . . she can't protect every Clanmate, loath as she might be to admit that. The buzz of the thought returns; does a golden star shine down cold on her, chilled with disappointment? " What can you sme— " she begins, hoping to dissuade such introspections with the hard delineations of the task of training Cloudypaw.

BOOM! The darkened sky sees fit to interrupt her words in a loud crash of sound, sending fur spiking along the warrior's narrow shoulders, lone green eye snapping wide—momentarily she thinks of pawsteps like thunder in her ears, Harrierstripe's belly soft under her teeth—of wingbeats and talons in the back of her neck—of the thump-crash of rocks tumbling into a narrow gorge. Then the psychedelic swirls across the sky swim into recognizability, and she heaves a sigh of relief so deep her flared shoulders crumple back together as it whooshes from between white jaws. Fireworks, that daylight warrior with the long name had called it two seasons ago.

How things have changed, she notes with a saddened sort of amusement. A jade - hued eye settles sympathetically on the torbie - point shape of her son, who ( understandably ) screams and runs for cover . . . amidst her concern, she has to admire his instincts in these times of turbulence. " A daylight warrior told me they call them ' fireworks ', " she meows as she lopes over to where Lionpaw cowers, green eye reflecting the technicolor bursts across the sky. " I've seen them once before . . . huh, I can't believe I never told you three about them. " That was back when your father was still alive, she thinks—a self - inflicted lance through the heart as her mind betrays her—but doesn't say. " Harmless, as far as I can tell, but they do scare off prey. "

OOC : —

♥︎

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[Chickbloom]

Though a new name had instilled some measure of new confidence, Chickbloom couldn’t help side-eyeing Doeblaze as the group began its patrol. She was older than him, more experienced, more scarred. An invisible brow furrowed as he thought back to the meeting where they’d been reborn side by side, old identities cast away in that ceremony. It could’ve been anxiety casting tricks - but in that memory, he could swear all of Skyclan was cheering Doeblaze’s name louder than his own.

“It makes sense, I guess. She’s done a lot more than me. Still…” The coward mused internally as he walked, feeling comparison rob his joy. “I want to be worthy of that same praise.”

Chickbloom’s first test came a half-second later, and he failed spectacularly. As the sky exploded, a shriek left him before the baby bird scrabbled up the tree Lionpaw was hiding behind, finding purchase on a low branch. The boy was about to add to the apprentice’s sense of panic when Doeblaze explained what was happening.

“T-Those are fireworks?” The former kittypet asked in amazement, still pressing into the trunk for safety. He’d heard about them from other kittypets - or rather, from listening in on their conversations - but the shut-in had never actually seen them, at least he thought. The sound dug up a memory - no, less than that - an impression, from when he was a kit. Bombs and blurred light just beyond a window, and a tiny Scottish Fold hiding in his housefolks’ bed. “Do you think - um - d-do you think Starclan gets a good view of them?”

The coward wasn’t particularly spiritual, but after seeing these ‘fireworks’ his first thought was how to get a better look. They were beautiful! If only they didn’t make so much noise…​

 

[SILVERSMOKE]

Patrols and Twolegplace went together like cats and dogs, so certain Silversmoke was that something would go wrong when no-furs were involved that he was twice as vigilant as he would usually be. The spotted tabby stuck close to his apprentice, committed to silence as he anticipated the worst. Then, the sky exploded. It wasn't a new scenario. So close to the Twolegplace, the sky exploded enough times for the spotted tabby to know it wasn't in any real danger. Still, his odd eyes shot to the clouds, a tautness to his heart as the noises infiltrated overly sensitive ears. He pinpointed shapes on high, swirls of colour tapering off on a dusk-laden sky. Just as soon as one disappeared, another took its place, filling the air with another BANG, the next one causing him to crouch as if expecting something to hit him. Bobbie explained it as fireworks and the Lead Warrior shot her an incredulous look - who in StarClan's name put fire in the sky?! She declared them harmless but the Twoleg-hater couldn't believe it, even if he'd never been harmed. His tail lashed along the forest floor, picking up leaf litter at the feathered edges.

"I hope not," he huffed to Eggshellbloom, cynicism fueled by discomfort. "If it's loud down here, imagine what it's like up there." An explosion everytime Twolegs felt like throwing colours up into the air sounded like a nightmare for StarClan.

[ apprentice tag; @Emberpaw . ]
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[cloudypaw~]

𓆝 . ° ✦Cloudypaw listened to Doeblaze dutifully. He was determined to get at least one thing right today! "What do you sm-" She had started, before being rudely interrupted by the fireworks. They flinched, but it wasn't the first time he'd seen them. His housefolk had liked setting them off. Usually smaller ones in the yard though. "They're pretty, but they hurt a little bit," he mumbled, wincing in anticipation as the tell-tale whizzzzzz of another shot up into the sky.

✧　°　.　✶　.　°　✧​

ooc Information

• ooc: —
• 

  MICA — HE/THEY ･ 7 MOONS ･ APPRENTICE ･ PENNED BY TWITCHTAIL

  lanky and tall light brown tabby with high white and green eyes. Big ol' himbo.

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[TWITCHBOLT]

Stars, it sounded like a storm, but Twitchbolt wasn't nearly as thrilled at this sort of racket. The sky wasn't rolling predictably - the dark clouds swelled in the distance. Olivine eyes widened, fearful- embers lit the sky, reddeningn the ground below, and Twitchbolt's heart beat like mosquito-flight. It rose up in his throat, and he felt almost as if he could choke on it. Stars, he'd heard these distant BANGS before, like- like pale imitations of thunder, but he'd not seen them like this...

Doeblaze was calm, though- many, many of the gathered ex-kittypets and daylight warriors were, actually. It was with their words that Twitchbolt was reminded of why he'd such a respect for those with different origins than him, even if he couldn't quite wrap his hear around them.

Even still, there was a great, quaking doubt within him- trembling, sickening- his tail swatted back and forth, a brown-streaked-blue blur. He chuffed with shuddering laughter at Silversmoke's voice. "Yeah, I- I guess StarClan's hunting-grounds aren't very peaceful tonight," he murmured... and he shuddered at the thought of their discomfort. Stars, you went through a whole life- you died, to be bombarded with this!?

Uncertainty pressed against him, aching like a bruise. "With fire in the name ... you're sure it's... harmless?" Twitchbolt winced at the racket, half-tattered ears pressing against his skull.​

penned by pin ✧​

 

[BEAR]

Thunderous sound feels like it's physically shaking him with every noise. It sets his teeth on edge, the intermittent reedy pews and bangs are all he can focus on, naturally living with such caution. Twolegplace has been his home for so long while he's not unfamiliar with the explosion of color, the shock of the sound so far away from twolegplace, he shares Lionpaw's alarm. Largely encountering others in the twoleg domain in passing Doeblaze giving name to the thing rings accurate, after all the fierce brightness of the fireworks bring to mind the writhing fires he's seen on occasion. His body is crushed together as tense as he can be, shoulders pressed tightly to his body. Bear's shaggy coat wildly poking up in every direction only contributes to his disheveled, crumpled can appearance.

As Chickbloom shrieks his claws shoot out into the dirt, wide eyes devoid of their usual sad tinge, minisculely relaxing at the realization the sound is from his clanmate. He flexes his paws in an attempt to soothe his frayed nerves. "They're loud and terrible things." He grumpily shares with Cloudypaw, to distracted by the overwhelming sound to truly appreciate the bursts of vibrancy. Low grumble rumbling in his chest, pitched frustration both fuels and intones his words in response to Twitchbolt and Silversmoke's StarClan rumination: "I hope not, it would be great if we couldn't hear them either."
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