pafp KIDS AIN'T ALRIGHT // bullying

[MUSHROOMPAW]

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[TW: for bullying obviously but there's references to child abandonment, fear of abandonment, as well as familial character death, if I need to add something to this list please let me know!]

"Shouldn't you have been apprenticed at the last meeting?"

She'd felt better today, not good, not bad, but better. It was around the time when most of the apprentices would all start trickling back into camp and Mushie found herself waiting for her friends in the company of four apprentices who'd been on the dawn patrol. The conversation had turned to training and opinions on eachother's mentors, and she listened quietly to their conversation while piping in from time to time when she felt it appropriate. That is, until one apprentice's smile turned sour, and he turned the conversation towards her own lack of a mentor. Others smile in return, nodding to eachother as they quip in with their own thoughts.

"Oh right, you're four moons old now aren't you?"
"Four moons old? That can't be right, look at how small she is!"
"A leaf-bare mouse is bigger than her."

The comments make her feel shy. She'd always noticed she was a fair bit smaller than most of her peers, but she'd always assumed that it would get better by the time they were adults. She didn't think it was ever a problem necessarily, just an occassional annoyance. But then comes a comment that makes her feel even smaller.

"Maybe she'll never be an apprentice, if she's smaller than a mouse she can't catch them, much less fight to protect the clan. So she's useless isn't she?"

There's thoughtful nods, and the apprentices begin to discuss her as if she isn't sitting right there with them. None of their comments register in her brain. 'Useless?' There was a time when Mushroomkit wanted nothing more than to join her friends in the apprentice den, to go out on patrols and training. Every young kit gets starry eyed at the idea of new things...but lately...

Lately she wondered if she'd ever wanted to be a clan cat at all.

"Yeah, even the daylight warriors are more useful than she is, since they're well fed from their twolegs, they're not just an empty mouth."

But hearing someone else insinuate that she should've never been here makes her ears burn, makes her dig her claws into the powder beneath her. Her nose feels warm as well, eyes itchy.

"I-I'm not an empty mouth! I'll be an apprentice soon you just watch!" Her voice cracks and her frustration blurs tears in her eyes as she jumps to her paws, fur puffed out like a poor hairball. Its so childish, crying over something that's so small, so insignificant as someone else's opinion, especially that of a barely trained apprentice only a few moons her senior, yet she cant stop the tears from falling. Laughter meets her bold declaration, hunched shoulders and half leaning on eachother to keep upright.

"You're not acting like an apprentice Mushroomkit!"
"Just go back to the nursery and cry to your momma okay?"
"Idiot she doesn't have a mom anymore, its just that old geezer in the elder's den!"

"My grandpa is NOT a geezer!" Her voice is shrill as she stamps her feet in the snow, face wet from her crying and hot from shame. "I do still have a mom! She's gonna come back! Everyone's gonna come back!" Why was it their business? Why did they think it was funny? Why her? Why did they have to pick on her?

"Your dad didn't even come to find you. What makes you think your mom will?"

Her head snaps up at that, shaking her head in a way that makes it seem like she's not only trying to convince the apprentices. "No, Papa's still- He's still loo-oking, he's gonna come find me." 'He has to, they all have to.' She hiccups out the words, shrinking back down into the snow and not realizing the way their laughter grows quieter, or the way her shadow seems to grow bigger in the leaf-bare sun.


// please wait for @Quillpaw before posting!​

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ALL I CAN DO IS DREAM ─

─ FOR I AM SO, SO TIRED.

 

[QUILLSTRIKE]

CUZ I DONT REALLY LIKE ANYBODY​

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OOC- Trigger Warning for general angst, mentions of violence, mentions of child abuse, bully, etc.

Quillpaw didn't get bullied very much these days.

In Skyclan, the most he'd had to deal with was a kit asking him why he looked so weird, which was honestly a question he'd gotten in many forms throughout his life, many of which were asked in far crueler ways. His coat was a patched monstrosity, a confusing thing to behold for others who were used to seeing things one way or the other. He very much looked like two cats had their coats skinned from them and sewn together to create a new, unnatural thing that had then been draped over Quillpaw. In a morbid twist, the chimera had told the child that he'd eaten his brother in the womb, stealing some of their skin for himself, an answer which had garnered mixed responses from the adults around him and then spread like wildfire amongst the other kits and even some of the apprentices.

In hadn't always been so easy for him, though.

When he was born, the first bully he met was his mothers mate, a cat he would then be forced to call 'father' for the rest of his life. His mother had hoped to hide her affair from him by simply telling him that the children were his, but when Quill was born there was no way to hide the fact that he wasn't his fathers. EVerything about him, from his coat colors to his physical build as he grew, belonged to his mothers family and the tom she'd cheaten with, and from that day forward Quill had been a pariah in his own home, subjected to hostility, degredation, and whatever humiliation his so-called 'father' could throw at him.

When he'd eventually grown old enough to leave the abandoned twoleg nest they called 'home' and wander the streets with other cats his age, he found that his dear old dad wasn't the only one who got their kicks making a target out of him. Twoleg place was filled with kids just like him, unwanted, damaged youth that was eager to lash out at something, and the weird looking kid with a dad who openly hated him had painted a target on his back a lot in those early days.

At least, until he realized he was allowed to fight back.

Running wild in the back alleys and run-down neighborhoods, Quill quickly realized that life worked differently among his peers than it did back home, no rules or larger weight classes to contend with- not the extent of his father at least, and after that? Well, the bullying trickled to a stop pretty fucking quick. And he'd found a kind of solace in that, the realization that he was able to control the things around him instead of being left to their mercy all the time. He didn't have to check out and let it happen.

Even if that meant hooking his claws into some assholes face and tearing it open.

In twoleg place, respect wasn't earned, it was taken. The way his father took it from him. The way Quill had taken it from the idiots who thought there'd be no consequences to trying to make him feel like less. The only difference was that Quill had already had so much taken from him that it made him desperate to keep what he had left, every minor altercation ending in a fight of such savagery that it quickly became common knowledge not to poke the sleeping bear.

After that, the only bullshit he'd had to deal with was his fathers.

"Shouldn't you have been apprenticed at the last meeting?"

The conversation he proceeds to overhear isn't one he intended to get involved with. Kids are cruel to each other, cats are cruel to each other. That's just life. But the longer he waits to hear Mushroomkit stand up for herself, the more he realizes it isn't going to happen. Her protests are weak, broken through with barely held back tears, and he finds himself growing aggitated; at her, at them. It's too loud. Why is everyone always so fucking loud?

But they aren't loud, are they? His brain is just fucked, can't take the buzzing that starts whenever he hears the beginnings of conflict or recognizes the sound of hurt in another cats voice.

He stands with an irritated flick of his tail and mismatched eyes narrowing darkly as he makes his way over, steps unrushed, shoulders in possession of a predatory roll. He can't stand cats like these; loud, needlessly cruel, naive to the fact that there are bigger, meaner fish lurking in the pond they call home.

His shadow falls across the group as he comes to stand behind Mushroomkit, raising himself to his full height to stare down at the apprentices. His eyes are the color of fire and ice, but there's nothing frigid or burning within them. What they'd find was far more disturbing, something vast and silent and empty, a void like a starless sky. Cats like this weren't worth his wildfires or whiteouts, weren't worth stars in the emptiness.

"Is this what your mentors have been teaching you- how to torment other cats?" he asks with that expressionless look, tone bordering on the edges of unamused as the corners of his lips fall into a nearly imperceptable frown. He doesn't look at Mushroomkit, doesn't even acknoledge her existance despite hovering over her, and its almost comical just how much of a difference there is in their size, each of them extremes on opposite ends of the same spectrum.

"I don't like cats that pretend to be Skyclaners." he says, but his voice is lower this time, darker, just for him and this little group of apprentices. No other prying ears. "Had to get rid of one already."

And while he leaves it at that, no farther details given, they all know what he's talking about. Half the cats in camp had been there, had seen Quill covered in blood that was only partially his own, had seen the blood pouring from that apprentices neck in what had been a clear attempt to do something insane. The Chimera squaring off with Thistleback and Blazestar, half unhinged while the rest of the clan stood watching on in shock and horror and disgust. To this day he was still being punished for it, extra chores in the nursery and elders den along with a fancy new apprenticeship to Thistleback himself. As for the apprentice he'd attacked that day? They'd left, gone to live at Horseplace instead where they didn't have to deal with Quill and could get fat off mice and easy meals from the farmers.

It was exactly where the other should have been from the start. A cat like that, manipulative, cruel and always looking to incite drama for the cats around them? That isn't a fucking clan cat. And it's funny, because the standards for what a 'clan cat' are in Quills head aren't all that high. Do your job and don't cause problems. It's really as simple as that. It's why he'd felt bad after the fight- not for hurting that asshole, but because he'd caused a problem for many of the cats who'd seen it happen. In the moment though, he'd forgotten where he was, had defaulted to a cat whose name he doesn't use anymore. He knows better this time around though, has learned from the experience like any smart cat would, but all that really meants is that he'll be smarter about it this time around.

His promise to Twitch surfaces for a moment, but he reasures it quickly with the notion that there are other ways to makea cats life a living hell without tearing their throat out, and ironically enough, he has Thistleback to thank for that.

"So you should probably get the fuck out of her face." he warns, his voice returning to its normal monotone.
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skyclan - male - 8 months - bisexual - homoromantic - single - very tall tabby tomcat with broad shoulders

 

[VIOLETNOSE]

violetpaw's lucky enough to have little experience with bullies. sure, there are the passing comments of npc peers who snark about how could a blind cat become a warrior? the typical cruelty of youth, seeking out the weak points in her armor in order to feel better about their own shortcomings. but they're always reprimanded by her sharp tongue- her armor is not so easily pierced, and for that, she is blessed in another way.

mushroomkit is different. there is a certain delicateness to the younger she-cat, with her dulcet voice, kindness oozing from every word she speaks. and those same apprentices who might've tried to hurt violetpaw, have found a victim with weaker armor than hers, in the sweet little mushroomkit. keen ears twitch in the direction of the taunts, her head snapping around a heartbeat later. if there is one thing that violetpaw couldn't stand, it is a bully. it brings to mind the way that centipedepaw had tortured her sister with barbaric words, lionsnarl with physical violence. and it makes her blood boil.

it's always the nice ones who receive the worst of the world. violetpaw is not like them, she is not nice, and that's what protected her from the bullies. she would do the same for those with a weaker voice than she.

"hey, maggot-breath," violetpaw calls out to the apprentices harassing mushroomkit, as she stalks over. when she draws near, she picks up on the last of quillpaw's hushed words; advising the posse to get the fuck out of mushroomkit's face. it's a sentiment she agrees with, a smirk lifting one corner of her lips. she has no strong attachment to quillpaw, but in this moment, they're united in their hatred of bulies. "i've heard starclan sends flesh-eating insects to devour the tongues of brats like you in their sleep, so i'd keep it tucked away." her voice has dropped into a dangerous lilt, clicking her own tongue against the roof of her mouth.​

 

[TWITCHBOLT]

Twitchpaw had never been bullied. But- equally, he didn't know how accurate it was to claim he didn't know what it might be like. Not once had he been targeted, but... he was no stranger to a venomous remark spat in his direction. Something about... cowardice, or stuttering, or... twitching. And in the case of his parents, stuff about... being a bother, talking back, never doing anything right. Over moons he had learned to deal with it, though he could not pretend the remarks held no sting in their tails. He just... well, sometimes he deserved it. And that was not bullying, was it?

Discussion buzzed nearby- well, to call it discussion was perhaps a bit too pleasant. No- he raised his attention to settle wide olivine eyes upon the commotion, the gut-twisting sight of apprentices closing in upon a kit. Someone smaller than them, weaker than them... it was pathetic, really, wasn't it? He'd always thought it was pathetic, being mean for the sake of it, for no reason. To someone who didn't deserve it. What had Mushroomkit ever done to them? Nothing, nothing, probably. Almost certainly, and they were just being... poisonous, for the sake of it.

From where he lay he heard the goings-on; followed Quillpaw and then Violetpaw as the stood side-by-side, a defence against the bane in the words of the perpetrating apprentices. Approval glinted verdant in his gaze, and he looked upon the confrontation separately for the moment. From his own experiences, being crowded when something bad had happened was... never good. It just made it all worse, for him... he'd wait till the aggressors had found something else to do, and make sure Mushroomkit was alright.​

penned by pin ✧​

 

[SLATESNARL]

Could Slate be considered a bully? Well, that all depended on perspective. He had quite the mouth on him and a sour outlook that manifested in his behavior and actions. It wasn't unusual for him to lash out at others as a result of internal emotional troubles. However, he did not usually seek others out for the purpose of antagonizing them... only when it was deserved. He wasn't a juvenile, as much as his poor attitude and short fuse may have begged to differ.

He watches the drama unfurl from a corner of camp, having been grooming his charcoal-hued fur when mean-spirited comments and jeers are directed towards a young SkyClanner. Slate was unsure if he was supposed to step in, though he figured someone who was decent enough would promptly come to her rescue. Two apprentices show up in the nick of time to jump to her defense, and at this point, Slate is actually fairly invested in the confrontation. Would a fight break out between the adolescents?

As much as Slate might find amusement in a bunch of kids throwing paws at each other, he found himself siding with the victim in this situation. Slate wasn't the nicest cat in the world; in fact, he was quite the prick if the situation called for it. However, those brats simply pointing and laughing at a kitten for seemingly no reason was awfully irritating. The former rogue believed in confronting someone within valid reason, not just for the sake of being little assholes. "Hmph. They're right, y'know. Go take your insecurities out on someone else, or better yet, each other. The rest of us have bigger problems to focus on than a bunch of snotty kits trying to overcompensate for their egos." Where were their parents to cuff them over the ears? Sheesh.​

— * ✰. ooc information recent events * ✰. —

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  ✰ SLATE
  —— amab, uses he/him pronouns. twenty-nine moons old. warrior of skyclan; former rogue.
  —— unrefined, rough and tumble rogue who is not accustomed to clan life. only trustful of his littermate, duskmane.
  —— link to tags. @ on discord for plots.
  
  quite the hulk of a cat, slate stands above the average clanmate with an arrogant gait. he has a dark gray ( bordering on black ) colored pelt with a pale-brown-tinged underbelly and whisps of tan at the tips of his chest hairs. amber-colored eyes contrast against his dark palette. notable features include a jagged scar across his right eye and two small scratches across the bridge of his nose.
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[Fireflyglow]

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

Fireflypaw's head lifts as he listens to the bickering from afar, eyes squinted against the light- someone was making fun of Mushroomkit, apparently. Quillpaw and the others seem to have it under control, and Firefly, he.. Wasn't the best with conflict. He ached to go over and be a superhero for his friend, but the idea of the apprentices turning on him as well makes him shrink back. It isn't until Slate steps in that Firefly pads over to stand close to Mushroomkit, pressing his cheek to her own to soothe her. "Ignore 'em, half of the people in this clan barely know their names anyways." He mutters to his friend, eyelashes fluttering. Ah, yes. That's right, Dawnglare had taught him..

His face turns to the apprentices, a toothy grin taking its place on his face- scary, with the way his eyes were closed. "Tuck your tails and run, stinkies. Or else I'll call for my dad. Y'see, he's not in the best of moods lately. Or, y'know, Quillpaw could take care of you. I'm half-blind after all, it's not like I'd see anything."​

 

[MUSHROOMPAW]

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The soft crackling of embers yet to become a fire, thats what she hears as her shadow becomes swallowed by one so much longer, as even her body is seemingly swallowed with it. Smoke flows from a mismatched maw as her honor is not quite defended, but rather the pelts and tongues of her bullies threatened as the sharp thorns of starlit briars joins in. She hadn't expected anyone to help, much less Quillpaw, who never seemed up for talking much to anyone, or Violetpaw, whom she had snapped at once upon a time. Perhaps most unexpected, was the harsh grit of one of the newer warrior's voices joining the chiding. She can feel Twitchpaw's eyes on her before she sees his shaking fur in the peripherials of her vision.

Tears still flow freely down her face as she looks around at the apprentices who had physically come to her rescue, but no longer does the young molly sob, only the smallest of hiccups pushing through her throat. Most of the aggressors scramble back like startled horses, wide eyes and murmurs passed between them. Hissed remarks containing the words 'crazy', 'freak', and 'witch' are thrown around. It only makes Mushroomkit's fur fluff up more, and she's not even calmed by Firefly's calm words of assurance, the way he seeks to soothe her with his own warmth. Rather, this only seems to embolden her.

The leader is still there, bristling and yet still smug. Seemingly not even threats of the leader's wrath, or Quillpaw's own claws sway them. "Can't even speak up to us yourself huh squeaky?" Regardless of the backup, to them it seems like a victory.

"At least my friends know when to stick around." She's still shaking, voice soft and yet still crackling like broken glass, but she doesn't stutter, and she doesn't back down. The apprentice sneers, growl low in their throat as they turn to leave. There's not much to say to that, not without more than words getting involved. And they all know what happened to Quillpaw, what happened to that apprentice.

She watches them all leave, stalk back into the apprentice's den and then she's turning, clinging to a patchwork leg as what little strength allowed her to talk back leaves as quick as it came. "Thank you- all of you-I didn't- I didn't know what to do!"​

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ALL I CAN DO IS DREAM ─

─ FOR I AM SO, SO TIRED.