sensitive topics down with the sickness [open/fight]

[QUILLSTRIKE]

I FEEL LIKE AN ASTRONAUT IN THE OCEAN​

---

The conversation had gone unheard by those around them.

One minute the boys were talking, and the next a horrible screeching filled the camp as Quill bowled the brown tabby over and tore into him. His expression, usually so calm and aloof, was now twisted into one of pure rage as he buried his fangs into the side of the shorter apprentices neck. He could feel them clawing against his chest and kicking at his stomach, but Quill was strong and easily outsized most of the cats his own age, and this one didn't stand a chance in hell.

I'll tell him where you are.

Paws battered against the other cats body, again and again, claws ripping through fur and flesh with each strike.

The words were still ringing in his ears like a gunshot, an ugly crack in the otherwise perfect glass that was Skyclan. And just like that, Twin was back. Gone was the stoic, dull boy they'd known as Quillpaw, burned up in the wildfire of fury raging within the chimera. Because if Quill was the still, silent depths of the ocean or night sky, than his anger and pain were a tornado of fire hot enough to evaporate every last drop of water on earth and bright enough to light even the darkest depths of space. It was loud, it was violent, and it cared very little about the screaming, struggling apprentice beneath him that he was beating toa bloody pulp.

OOC- Quill has some scratches along his face, chest, and stomach, only a few of which are deep enough to maybe warrant some concern. The apprentice pinned under him is a lot worse off; bad open neck wound, and several deep slashes to the chest and face. The npc apprentice is newer to the clan, joined a few days ago and there seemed to immediate tension between him and Quill for those who wish to have picked up on that. It can safely be presumed these two knew each other before Skyclan and don't have a good history together XD

​

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skyclan - male - 8 months - bisexual - homoromantic - single - very tall tabby tomcat with broad shoulders

 

[Stagkit]

REACHING FOR THE SUN​

---

It was sort of like a pond, with gentle mist sprawled across still and peaceful waters. Then a stone crashed through the depths and waves drenched calm shores. The quiet camp had erupted into a furious brawl between two spitting felines. Stagkit had only been trying to chew on his mouse when it had happened, and he stumbles, falls, tumbles out of the way as the two battling cats nearly crush him with their rage. One apprentice clearly has the upper hand, fur flying and blood splattering, and all Stagkit can do was cower nearby and watch with wide, owlish eyes. He sees the wounds carved into clan-mate's fur, he smells the coppery stench of blood, he senses the fear, pain, and anger. It was all too much for him, heart racing and sides heaving. Stagkit had only wanted to enjoy his meal.

He's quiet where he crouches, fur fluffed out and glassy vision wide, as his little heart beats furiously within his chest. Stagkit can't do anything else, except hope that it all comes to an end soon.​

 

[sheepcurl]

Camp was supposed to be a safe space. A safe space for kits, for apprentices, for warriors, for everyone. It wasn’t supposed to be for fights, no, they had lost so many, Centipede, Coyote, she had been attacked, but NONE of it had happened in camp.

“GET OFF OF HIM!” her voice is a frenzied screech, fueled with panic and… is that rage, at the sight of the deep wounds on the boy beneath Quill? Her eyes slide to the side. Stagkit is cowering, rage burns the inside of her stomach. No kit should have to watch this, no, they were far too young and she thinks about boy, which only adds gasoline to the fire. She knows she can’t bowl him over, but if she doesn’t do anything, she fears that he’ll kill the damn apprentice underneath him straight in camp.

She isn’t even good at fighting. No femme fatale, she is, not strong but her body moves anyways. She takes a running start. She attempts to knock Quill off balance, but even if she doesn’t even bring him down she’ll let out a hiss. “Are you out of your MIND?” shes shaking, ears pinned back and her own claws unsheathe and shes back on that street facing that loner untul she shakes her head. “You better pray Blazestar gives you mercy, you could have KILLED that kid!” she threatens, but its empty even with how angry she is. She just… Not in camp, not with the kits, not with boy, this was supposed to be a SAFE place. Silently she starts her own prayer, that Deersong would show up, that Redstorm will because shes not equipped to handling this, not with how much shes shaking.

 

[BLAZESTAR]

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╮​

The commotion brings Blazestar from his den on big, clumsy golden paws, eyes the size of moons. His heart nearly leaps from his ribcage at the spitting, snarling sound of cats fighting, at the sharp scent of blood tainting the air. Had they been invaded? Had Sootstar changed her mind, decided she wanted to fight for Squirrelpaw after all?

But he's met with the horrifying site of Quillpaw standing and panting over a cat with a torn throat, blood seeping from his pelt. The tomcat they'd accepted just days before, another former loner. Blazestar stares in complete shock -- it's Churrodream who is spurred to action, shoving her way in between the apprentices and hissing at them herself. "You better pray Blazestar gives you mercy! You could have KILLED that kid!"

At these words, Blazestar's gaze darts to Stagkit, who cowers, flat against the camp's ground. His anger is immediate. This is their home. This is a place that should be safe for everyone, from the most ancient elder to the tiniest kit, and Quillpaw has spilled his Clanmate's blood.

The Ragdoll stalks forward, thrusting his face into Quillpaw's. His eyes blaze with fury, but he says in a calm voice to Churrodream, "Please take Stagkit to the nursery. He's seen more than he should have to."

He then directs his anger toward Quillpaw. "I want an explanation. Now. Don't you realize that SkyClan has enough enemies? That there are cats who want to spill our blood?" He lashes his tail. "Why would you ever spill your Clanmate's? What could possibly be a good enough reason for this?"

- ,,​

​

 

[FOXGECKER]

Startled, the large tom awakens to the screeching. The smell of fresh blood in the air and it causes alarm in the older warrior. He pushes to his paws as quickly as he can shaking himself as he quickly leaves the warriors den. Churro is at the scene screaming about Quill and oh, the sight. "Mon dieu...." He whispers as he gets a closer look at the scene and one he finds disturbing.

They have already lost so much and somehow Quillpaw finds it fitting to carve his claws through a clanmate's flesh. It is jolting to say the least and he looks at Blazestar as the leader comes forward. He too wants to know just what the hell even happened here. Taking in a deep breath he glances toward the wounded apprentice, jaws half open as he debates before shaking his head. "I'll get Dawnglare. L'apprenti, he doesn't look too good." Especially with that neck wound too.

So quickly he turns to makes his way to the medicine cat den to tell the other what has transpired.

@DAWNGLARE ​

 

[QUILLSTRIKE]

I FEEL LIKE AN ASTRONAUT IN THE OCEAN​

---

He'd forgotten how good it felt to fight, how good it felt to know you were stronger than your enemy. He was like a machine in his movements; repetitive, methodical, and devastating. There were nocoherrant thoughts racing through his mind, only the rushing of blood in his ears and the unspoken understanding that if he didn't put the fear of god into this cat right now, that Quill could lose everything.

I'll tell him where you are.

No. No, Quill would make sure they didn't tell him, would make sure that this piece of shit cat under him would fear the chimera so that they never made the mistake of even thinking those words again. And really, what had they been thinking anyways? That Quill had gone soft because he'd joined Skyclan? That there'd be no fucking repercussions for coming up to him and saying those things?

Had they forgotten who he was?

“GET OFF OF HIM!”

The shriek of rage cut through his own, reaching past the flames to whatever sensability he'd momentaril lost in himself, and he knew in that moment that this fight was over. He'd made the mistake of forgetting where he was and who he was with, and now the entire clan would be coming down on him.

"You even think about bringing him here and I'll fucking kill you." he growled, hunkered over the bloody apprentice so that only they could hear the threat.

And then, Churrodream was smashing into him.

He grunted against the impact, and for a brief moment the realization that she wasn't strong enough to stop him made him consider taking another few shots at the asshole cowering beneath him, but she was screaming at him and his head was clearing fast, and after a moment he made the sensible decision of stepping off the npc.

Chest heaving from exhertion, muscles stiff in anticipation, and covered in blood that was only partially his, he felt more like himself than he had since joining. Not because he needed to fight, not because putting an asshole in their place felt good, but because of the way Churro was looking at him. Angry. Scared. Disgusted.

And all he could do was stare back at her blankly, face covered in blood.

It was only when Blazestar appeared that the apathy seemed to harden into something sharper, shoulders squaring as he drew himself to his full height to glare back at the Leader in defiance. This is familiar too; the bristled fur, the lack of personal space, the silent seething that came right before the storm. And for a moment it was no longer Blazestar standing before him, but a ginger tomcat about to lay claws on him, to remind him of just how much better this place would be without Quill there.

"Please take Stagkit to the nursery. He's seen more than he should have to."

It took a moment for Quillpaw to understand what was being said, so ready for the screaming to continue, for things to devolve into another brutal fight like he was used to. Instead mismatched eyes caught sight of a small, cowering figure pressed to the ground a few short strides from where he and the npc had been fighting. He tried to ignore the sick feeling that curled like fingers in his stomach, clawing guiltily at his belly while something echoed maliciously in his head, Your just like him, now.

He looked away, still too stubborn to back down from Blazestar but unable to look at him or Stagkit now that he realized just what he'd done.

"I want an explanation. Now. Don't you realize that SkyClan has enough enemies? That there are cats who want to spill our blood? Why would you ever spill your Clanmate's? What could possibly be a good enough reason for this?"

Eyes of blue and gold flashed back to meet those of Blazestars, sharp and cold as the edge of a knife.

"That cat is not my clanmate." he growled, tail lashing behind him. "And if you were smart you wouldn't consider him yours either. That piece of shit would sell any of us here out, and not even for something worth-while!"

They wouldn't get the exact details from him, and Quill was willing to bet that the they wouldn't be able to get them from the NPC either. The two hadn't been strangers, the other apprentice having been a frequent presence among the group of young cats Quill had run with back in twoleg place. They were addicted to drama and selfish to the point that they'd sacrifice the cats they called 'friends' just to get a step ahead in life. And somehow, they'd found their way to Skyclan and thought it would be a good idea to try and blackmail Quill.

"And what good would an explenation do?" he asked, jaw clenching as he tried to hold back his anger. "You gonna go easier on me just because I say he threatened me? No, I doubt that." He had gone through this enough in his life to know that the 'why' didn't actually matter. It was just something adults asked so they could feel justified in whatever they did next, and he knew that one way or the other it would be twisted to paint Quill as the bad guy. Details never mattered.

OOC- if its possible to avoid an exile that would be AWESOME, but like, also punish the hell out of him as you see fit lol. He is a trauma boy with anger issues and he needs to finally have some healthy discipline in his life.

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skyclan - male - 8 months - bisexual - homoromantic - single - very tall tabby tomcat with broad shoulders

 

[TWITCHBOLT]

Blood stung the air, and for a moment Twitchpaw believed that maybe his worst nightmares had finally come true- what a horrible way to find out you were prophetic. The yowling, all of it- some catastrophe, surely, and in some ways he was right. Quillpaw had never struck him as a fighter- not this kind of fighter, anyways. Maybe- to defend someone else, but so violently- a neck wound, what was he thinking? Shock struck a picture across Twitchpaw's face, eyes wide, as his twitches grew more frequent in the buildup of his nerves. A dithering form stood frozen to the ground, his blood ice. What- he'd not thought he was like this. He'd not thought...

He had to have had a reason, surely, but in his panicked spiral Twitchpaw could not even vocalise such a rationalisation. Why, why would he do this? So- so violently, so unnecessary, blood spilled and pooled, a river on the ground- everything, every nightmare, every terror that Twitchpaw could imagine. Blood soaked in camp's walls- where safety was meant to be. What was he doing, now, yelling at Blazestar, distrust spilling from his maw- what was he thinking!?

He couldn't bear to look and yet, how could he tear his moon-wide eyes away? Terror trembled in olive-green pools, and a paw fumbled backward. What- what was the reason!? If Quillpaw couldn't say it- if he couldn't find that it would make a difference- did that mean there hadn't been one? The fear that bubbled up inside him, that rose like frosty clouds- he could not help it, could not rid himself of it. There had to be a reason, and yet-

Twitchpaw did not want to look, anymore. Everything good always went wrong.​

penned by pin ✧​

 

[ThistleBack]

Foxgecker’s pelt whisks off in hurry to fetch Dawnglare, Thistleback spits out the ferns he had snatched on patrol to line Deersong’s nest, the sound of screeches in camp had summoned him on hard sprinting paws. His grey eyes, flicking from cat to cat as the scene had unfolded. Quillpaw is shouting at Blazestar, justifying nothing in the name of tediousness. It didn’t matter, he thinks that an explanation to this violence is pointless.

Thistleback seethes, this was the truth of the environment he would bring his children. He lets Deersong spring daisies in this bloody field. The piebald’s eyes drop to Stagkit with a sudden menacing glower, how close to scrabbling paws and blood-spray had his beloved’s kit been? he was safe with Churrodream, Thistleback was able to peel his eyes away from Stagkit with Blazestar’s orders. Though shaken, the speckled warrior was a protector- she’d proved that today.

that cat is not my clanmate, Oh these insolent hateful squabbling children .

Quillpaw is speaking so vaguely, with anger- all unexplained and furiously confusing. Thistleback prowls forth with a scowl, lines of discontent drawn over his maw. " Blazestar asked for an explanation. Not whether you think it’s worth giving one. " was Quillpaw foaming at the mouth? rabid with self-pity and secrets. Children were sick creatures at this age, foolish bumbling maniacs. Throw trauma in there, and you got yourself a soup of mayhem.

" not much he can do now all ripped at the bloody neck " Thistleback growls in an exasperated breath. " We all deserve to know what’s going on…Why our children almost watched their clanmate draw their last breath under the claws of another clanmate " he falls into silence now, Pacing slowly around the scene. Taking in the dark puddles of blood and torn grass. So fucking close to the nest his family would sleep.

​

OOC INFO REF

• —
  
  
• — Thistleback | thirty-two moons | cis-male
  — warrior of Skyclan | leaves rarely
  — bisexual | fallen for Deersong 9.29.22
  — formerly mentoring Coyotepaw
  — very muscular piebald black and white tom with spiky fur and cold silver-grey eyes. Wears a purple collar with brass clasp.
  
• 
  
  

​

 

[QUILLSTRIKE]

I FEEL LIKE AN ASTRONAUT IN THE OCEAN​

---

He'd thought that getting away from his father would be enough. That all he needed was to put some space in between himself and the older tomcat and it would solve every problem he had. Quill would finally be able to live a nice, normal life without any of the bullshit, and things could finallybe nice and quiet. And it worked- for a while, at least. Skyclan was weird but it was good, better than anything he'd had in a long while.

But there were no smooth roads in and out, were there? His dad wasn't even here and he still had his claws sunk into everything Quill did, threatening to take away what little peace and sanity he'd managed to find for himself out in the woods. There were always going to be assholes like that npc who'd think nothing of handing him over, there would always be that infectious hate living inside of Quill waiting to get out like it had today, and most importantly of all, there would always be a timer counting down the days he had left in Skyclan.

He understood that now.

He didn't show it in that moment because defeat wasn't something he liked to admit to easily, but the realization hurt. Was it so much to fucking ask for a home that didn't hate him? For a place where he could disapear from his past and start over? He'd been doing so good here, had gotten so far without any problems, and now the entire clan was looking at him like he was some kind of monster. Maybe he was. Maybe growing up that way twisted you into a new kind of animal and Quill had only been pretending at being normal.

Stars, he just wanted things to be normal.

The addreniline was wearing off, but he clung to what defiance still lived in him because it was better to feel that than the guilt and self-hatred churning in his gut. He dind't feel bad about hurting that npc; they were an asshole he had history with and he didn't expect the Skyclanners to understand that, but the rest? He'd traumatized some kid, made every warrior in the clan hate him, and effectively ruined whatever progress he'd made with the cats around him. He'd left the dark parts of himself loose and now Skyclan was stained with it, he was stained with it, marked like Cain as a traitor who couldn't be trusted.

Churrodream had snapped him out of it when she shoved him away from the npc, and the shock of seeing Stagkit cowering beside her had been enough to make him hesitate, but for whatever reason, it was Twitchpaw that extinguished the last of the fire inside him. The other apprentice was easily disturbed by the world around them and Quill shouldn't have been surprised that this would be no different. Of course Twitch would be horrified, Quill knew that. So why the hell did it cut so deep seeing that look directed at him?

There was no visible change in him as Thistleback made their way over; Quill was still stiff-shouldered, and glaring coldly at those around him as the other tom spoke, but he wasn't mad anymore. Annoyed and frustrated? Sure, because now he had to deal with the consequences to his actions. But it wasn't Skyclans fault he was like this, and it wasn't their fault for being angry at him or scared of him. He'd done that to himself.

Still, the exact details weren't something he was ready or willing to share. Call it stubborn and idiotic, but he still had some sense of fucking pride left, and he'd rather be seen as an asshole by the Skyclanners than some desperate coward who couldn't handle the thought of their dad dragging them back home. But Thistle wasn't wrong, and even Quill could see that much. The cats here had watched him brutalize another cat without any explenation and if Quill didn't want to be thrown out on his ass he had to give them a reason.

It was a moment of conflict, because what was he supposed to say? He could be an asshole or he could be a victim, and while he knew which one he'd prefer to be, pursuing that route would only land him in hotter water with a bunch of cats he wasn't trying to make enemies of. But admitting the truth in front of all of them? That didn't seem like an option either. No matter what he said he was screwed, and the feeling of being trapped wasn't exactly a nice one. Fuck. Fuck!

He was gonna have to do this, wasn't he? In front of all of them. Either that or leave, and that last one was something he was seriously considering because he'd spent this much time trying to forget his past, and now he was going to drag it out for them all to see. He would never be able to outrun it.

"Someones looking for me, and I don't want to be found."

The words came slow, chosen carefully to mask the obvious truths he didn't want to say, and he was torn between wanting them to outright understand and hoping they couldn't read between the lines.

"If I am, it's gonna be bad."

Very bad, if what the npc had been telling the truth- and while typically Quill wouldn't believe anything that came out of the mouth of a drama starter like them, he couldn't take the chance of all that being true. If it was, then Quill running away hadn't made anything better for his family at all, and now his dad was on a warpath.

"He was gonna turn me over."

And that's it. That's all they were getting from him. If Blazestar decided it wasn't enough and made him leave then so be it. He may still be a kid, but he was strong. He'd figure it out, with or without a clan.

​

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skyclan - male - 8 months - bisexual - homoromantic - single - very tall tabby tomcat with broad shoulders

 

[Fireflyglow]

WE'VE BEEN DOIN' ALL THIS LATE NIGHT TALKIN' ✧​

Someone is yelling, there's whispers amongst the apprentices as he rounds the corner, always one to be included in some sort of gossip. He's ushered over, talks of Quillpaw nearly killing a fellow apprentice, of how pissed his dad was. Wouldn't he be? "Okay, bugger off. You're all talkin' too much." He meows softly, giving a frown to the group of apprentices. A bunch of giggling geese, he'd say.

He doesn't stray too close, but he does indeed make his way to stand next to Twitchpaw, offering him a bump of his shoulder against the other tom's. He sees the terrified shake of his eyes, and Firefly lifts a large paw up to attempt to hold one in front of his eyes. "Look away." He shudders at the sight, though it's burned into his brain- the sight of blood, the panic in the air. The smell of fear was nauseating. Was this normal? His eyes shut instinctively against the light above, though it's also instinct for him to try and walk away from a situation like this. It wasn't his first time seeing blood, but the nauseating scent made him want to cry.​

 

[DAWNGLARE]

He can hear the screams of the fallen before any face can come to find him. Already, his ears are pulled back in subtle distaste, a sneer draws at his lips, and— his crawl from his hovel is swiftly interrupted by a bright red face. A blink. One, two. Flutter like a bird's wingbeats. Spilling, spilling, he spews a story, retelling of what has come and what to expect. A spat between mice. He sees. Sees without... looking. He purses he lips.

Willow-flowing form flows from the furrow, into the fray, he goes, he goes. Another bloodied thing. One too many, these days, he'd think; though, who was the judge of too little or too much violence? Wayward, his gaze drags to those on the side; the accursed and the wary. Something, something... There's a narrow of the eyes, sharpened blue; a quirk of the brow. "What-ever do you mean...?" Drawled with an ooze of skepticality. Bloodied face, it paints the boy like a rosied-sky. Tap of a paw against the ground. Swinging, swaying, hypnotic glide of a tail behind him— interest. That and... impatience, all at once.

Harrowingly inactive, he pushes toward the maimed. Less than a glance can paint a brutal picture. Red, red, a spattered canvas, innards crushed, and for what? He presses his muzzle to poor, poor loser, and a heartbeat sings triumph. An acknowledging hum, and then, shift of the eye. "Bad enough to kill?" And the question this time is... different. Genuine curiosity, far from unbelievable in his mind. For all that has him hiss fire and grit sparks between his teeth, he has a reason to keep his smog to himself. That reason... right in front of them now, and fuming.​

 

[BLAZESTAR]

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╮​

Quillpaw responds to Blazestar's cold anger with insolence, equally icy. The mismatched eyes are shimmering, metallic with something haunted, something Blazestar's anger cannot touch. The apprentice's words confirm everything. "That cat is not my Clanmate. And if you were smart, you wouldn't consider him your's either. That piece of shit would sell any of us here out, and not even for something worthwhile!"

Blazestar's eyes stretch wide across his face. He's dumbfounded that the apprentice would speak to him like this, after spilling another's blood in their camp. He's never known Quillpaw to be defiant to his authority -- but then again, has he ever attempted to exercise that authority?

He shakes his head. "I'm telling you to explain yourself to me before we have more problems."

The chimera speaks after Thistleback berates him, and the Ragdoll stares without changing his expression. Quillpaw explains -- if one could call it that -- like he's spitting out blood and teeth with every word. "Someone's looking for me, and I don't want to be found. If I am, it's gonna be bad."

Blazestar's blood turns to icewater. Instantly, he's thinking of Centipedepaw. Of Vermilionsun and the rogues acting bodyguard around him. Of the background Quillpaw has never explained, but that can only consist of being filled with violent rogues.

"He was gonna turn me over."

Blazestar waits for more, but Quillpaw is silent after this. It's clear there won't be more -- not now.

His anger has cooled into something else now, and he he speaks, it's with the frosty breath of leafbare. "Like it or not, the moment that cat was accepted into SkyClan, he became your Clanmate. If you have a problem with him putting you or SkyClan in danger, you will come to me or Deersong. Do you understand? You will not take matters into your own paws. You will not spill blood in this camp, where queens nurse, kits play, and elders rest."

His ears flatten. "You both need a reminder of what being a SkyClanner is, it seems. This isn't a free-for-all. This isn't every cat for himself. We survive because we work together. We survive because we care for each and every member of this Clan equally."

He fixes the NPC with a hard stare. "You will go to Dawnglare's den. When you are cleared for duty, you will report to me immediately." As angry as he is at Quillpaw, the NPC is threatening more than just the young chimera if he's threatening to bring more dangerous rogues to their territory.

Blazestar swings his flinty blue gaze back to Quillpaw. "And you. You will continue your warrior training with Thistleback." He knows the piebald warrior will ensure proper discipline is instilled. "But I want every free moment you aren't providing for your Clan to be spent with the queens and the elders. You will be tending to their every need alone. Someday, you will realize what being a SkyClan warrior is... and you will understand the gravity of what you've done today."

He shakes his head. "That is all. Return to your duties, everyone, please." The wind has been taken from his sails, and the light from his eyes -- they are dull with worry now. He leaves to go to his den, not sparing a glance at anyone else. Trouble. Trouble is coming.

- ,,​

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