MASS DESTRUCTION | rta, paper bag time

[CHRYSALISWING]

In the early and tranquil morning, when the fog still settled like a phantom tippet upon the shoulders of the forest, a loud screech sliced through the quietude. Like a cat whose head had been cut off, a shrill scream of pure agony... Was there a murder upon the sacred pines of Skyclan? Was there a specter enraged and rampaging through the silent woodlands?

Well, the situation had been anything but urgent. Chrysaliswing barrelled into camp, and accompanying the chimaera-coated tom was a strange contraption on his head. It was light and translucent, almost as though a light cirrus cloud had fluttered down to earth and graced the ground-borne with its presence. Though, this creature had two arms to grab unsuspecting prey with, and it had captured the unwitting Chrysaliswing within its hellish grasp. In fact, it had wrapped his whole body around his head - not enough to push against fragile esophagus, but enough to tickle the fur around it, as though the strange predator taunted him with breeze-like brushings and tidings. Laughing, laughing as the tomcat tried to shake it off, with that shimmery giggle as though it had come straight from the bowels of the wind.

"GET IT OFF ME!!" The full-grown warrior's curdling scream echoed through the morning as he rolled around with a plastic bag stuck to his head. Ungracefully, he paraded into the Skyclan camp, practically rolling in. Feathery fur stood in bristles, as sharp as the bushes of thistle and boughs of holly about his territory. That was what he got for messing with Twoleg litter that happened to find itself on the edges of its territory. Perhaps it was a Twoleg trap, to finally capture him once and for all and force him to be a kittypet! Hot breath condensed within the bag as he still struggled with the foreign attacker, who seemed intent naught to kill but to mess with him, likely.​

 

[Honeysplash]

They had left the medicine den in search of their own food instead of someone bringing it to them this time. They were slowly gaining back their strength in their leg and they kept it off the ground entirely as they moved across the clearing. The morning was quiet, no one had stirred yet and the lull of the death seemed to lessen. It was hard to believe, that their sister was now leader and Blazestar was gone. It was hard to believe things were changing so quickly that it made their head spin almost.

Though as they stopped to pick up a small vole from the prey pile there was an ungodly screech. Their fur bristled instantly and eyes went wide as they looked towards the camp entrance. Was there an attack? On camp? Who was stupid enough to do that? Was it Windclan? They had heard a lot about Windclan and the craziness of it all.

Yet what came through the camp entrance had her almost bursting into laughter. It was Chrysaliswing, he was panicking and rolling around on the ground like something was trying to kill him. Honeysplash set down her prey that she had in her mouth in favor of approaching the tomcat slowly, “Hey, hey breathe, relax,” She soothingly spoke and tilted her head to the side, she was never good at taking these things off. Shes gotten stuck in a few herself when she lived back with her twolegs.

“The more you freak out the more you’ll get stuck,” She said to him with a small shake of her head, how did he even get this on his head to begin with? Honeysplash looked around camp for another cat in hopes they’d be able to get the bag off of the temperamental tomcat.​

"Speech"​

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living in a world so cold​

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[TERMITEHUM]

⁺₊ ⋆✩ It's a wailing in the dawn that wakes Termitehum from her sleep, a banshee's wailing cutting through the fog. Her heart skips a beat. A cat's voice, surely, yet shrieking so horribly that it seems as if death itself has come to visit their camp. It is not hard for her to think it an ill portent; there's little else it could be. Something has come for them. Something is here. An ambush? Twolegs? Foxes? Hawks? A death in the camp?

She peeks from the warrior den timidly, eyes blown wide and breaths harsh. Looks past the hanging brambles to see --

Her brother.

"Ohh... oh no..." murmurs Termitehum as she pads from the shelter. His voice is clear now, wailing to remove whatever strange attacker has claimed his head. She does not laugh as the golden-furred molly does, true concern clouding her blazing eyes. She's seen those things before, trailing the streets of Twolegplace, but she's never seen anyone ensared by one.

Honeysplash is kind, as Termitehum has always known her to be. They stand back as she calms him, knowing their own presence will do little to soothe their ailing brother. She seems to know what she's doing, but... All she's doing is talking. They need to get him out. "Hhh- here I..." They begin to offer, before trailing off. Clear their throat and raise their humming insect-chirp voice. "I can help, sss- ss- stay stuh- still." And before waiting for Chrysaliswing's response, they shoot their snow-splotched muzzle forwards and reveal pearly white fangs. Termitehum grasps at the filmy thing which traps him and pulls backwards.

‎‎┌── TALK TO ME BABY, GET TO KNOW ME 𓆦 YOU CAN TAKE IT RIGHT BACK! ──┐‎

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  "SPEECH"
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  TERMITEHUM 𓆣 she / they / it, warrior of skyclan, 21 moons.
  ➳ a willowy black molly with white patches and intense orange eyes.
  ➳ superstitious and cowardly, quietly kind despite their fear.
  ➳ dragonflywing xx earwigtuft, littermate to chrysaliswing.
  ➳ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ➳ penned by SATURNID ↛ saturnids on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
  

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[CHRYSALISWING]

Like a chiming bell, the voices of two of the cats he least wanted to see him in this position rang through the plastic. Freezing for a split hair of a second, Chrysaliswing's bristles and hackles stopped if only for a moment. Fuzzy shapes lie just outside of the foggy curse of the Twoleg contraption, as though he could reach out and swipe at Honeysplash and Termitehum with his claws, but he could not see them. A dreamlike state, almost, though there was naught bliss nor solace in... whatever he had gotten himself into this time. Hot breath circled maddening and mindless around him, as thread-thin whiskers curled inwards from the boundary.

"Am I hurt anywhere? I swear, I never know how those damn Twolegs come up with any of -"

The bag lurched backwards and threatened to take him with it, pushing unfamiliar bluster upon his face as it stuck to longhairs and skin alike. Although his sister's intentions had been unselfish (as they always had been), it was enough to send the temperamental warrior into another hissy-fit. Springing upwards, Chrysaliswing rolled around on the ground with spurts of shrill sounds of sheer dissatisfaction spilling from the plastic bag with his head still very much in it. Stubbornness would be the death of the beast's pride, and his stubbornness would spell the end of his own dignity.
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[DAWNGLARE]

It invokes powerful memories, this. Memories of much a familiar fate befalling him when he was younger – freer – less jaded. A curious excursion had become sudden death, one wrought the color green. An incessant crinkling that grated the nerves the closer it got to ones ears; like a taunting laugh in the face of its victims: you will never claw your way out. But for the grace of his housefolk — useful, for once — had Dawnglare not fallen to a fate worse than death. Though SkyClan's collar - wearers still roamed, they were too far, too free from twoleg paws. Crysaliswing would die here, and there wasn't a thing any of them could do about it.

Dawnglare makes no move to help, for it would only damn the rest of them further. Termitehum is lucky to make it as far as they do. Dawnglare watches with abject horror, fur spiked into silken quills and eyes alight. Yellowed teeth grind at each other, clenched tight in a half - snarl, half - grimace. He shakes his head, shakes and shakes at the foolhardy warriors making their approach. " Leave him! Leave him or it'll ensnare you all, just the same! " he hisses.

A WISE WOMAN SAID I'M ALIVE 🍷 NOBODY'S EVER TOLD HER SHE'S WRONG

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• ( I'M AS ALIVE AS HER BEARD IS LONG ) DAWNGLARE Medicine Cat of SkyClan. Mentoring Fireflypaw
  𓆩♡𓆪 He / him , deeply confused by the use of other pronouns
  𓆩♡𓆪 Currently 61 moons old as of 2.1.24. Mated to Mallowlark
  
  Unsettling and strange, Dawnglare bears a unique perception to the world and stars above on top of a generally unpleasant disposition. Holds others to uniquely impossible standards and himself undeniably above the rest. Delusional and very much stuck in his ways. The death of his closest friend has helped him none, in this
  Mood is decided by dice - rolls per thread, with the exception of some important threads

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[SLATESNARL]

Never had Slate imagined he would ever think this, but SkyClan needed some entertainment. After the rogue attacks and Blazestar's death, things were just now starting to feel steady again, though adapting to these new changes would surely take time. Whether it be capturing a four-eyed, three-legged toad wandering the side of the river or bright, rainbow flowers suddenly sprouting out of the trees, the clan needed some sort of distraction. Things still felt too glum, too solemn.

Then, Chrysaliswing showed up, darting around camp like a chicken with its head cut off.

Yeah, this would work just fine.

His clanmates' first instinct is to help. They were too naive, too good-hearted. Did they not see the amusement in this situation? Then again, they probably weren't aware that the twoleg contraption snagged onto Chrysaliswing's head was harmless. Seasons of experience roaming the alleys and dumpsters reassured him of this. "Nah, just leave it on him." Slate rumbles, a thin smirk tugging on the edge of his lips as he witnesses the arrogant warrior absolutely losing his mind. "I think it looks good." A gravelly sarcasm drips from Slate's tone in typical fashion, a sign that all is well and back to normal with the lead warrior as he readjusted to life outside of the medicine den.

₊ ⋆ * ⊹ ₊ ☾ —— 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙨𝙩𝙪𝙘𝙠, 𝙝𝙤𝙡𝙡𝙤𝙬 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙖𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙚

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  ₊ ⋆ * ⊹ ₊ ☾

  slate
  

  — he/him; lead warrior of skyclan
  — a hulking, scarred charcoal-black colored maine coon with amber eyes
  — "speech", thoughts, attack
  — link to full tags; @ on discord or dm @beaaats for plots!​

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