sensitive topics no escape ;; prisoner.

[VERMILIONSUN]

❝ we're children playing at a game, screaming that the rules aren't fair. ❞

// the tag is for bad language! and blood, of course.

It took Crimsonbite and Thistleback wrangling a wounded Vermilionsun into a tight grip to get him to SkyClan, the ex-skyclanner struggling and panting in the toms' grasps. He wanted to tear them to shreds, to hurt them just as they did him; half-blind, Vermilion finally gives up fighting when the scent of their borders comes into place. He's dragged right into camp, massive limbs bleeding from his wounds and re-opened scabs. "Get your fucking paws off of me. I can walk on my own." Vermilion curses the toms, only to be dropped onto the ground harshly. Vermilion's paws shake beneath him as wobbly legs push him up, and he finally gets a good look at his surroundings.

Nothing seemed to have changed. Being back here, though, made him want to run.

"I didn't kill that apprentice, Blaise." Vermilionsun mutters softly, moreso a mantra at this point- but as a paw shoves him forward, Vermilionsun makes his way over to an emptied, run-down den in a hollowed out tree trunk. There's guards there, designated just for him. Treating him like a criminal, a threat to those around him. Dawnglare is called over, and Vermilion spins on his heel to snap his jaws at the patrol of toms. "Tell Dawnglare to shove those fucking herbs where the sun doesn't shine. I don't want them." Don't waste them on me. He growls, turning back around to clamber his way into the den. It's dark, and smells of moss and water, but it's a den.

As his long legs sprawl out and joints pop sorely, the smell of blood damp in the air, he suddenly begins to miss the sewers..​

​

 

[~Deersong~]

( ♬ ) Deersong had been back at camp, pacing like a confined tigress as she waited for the patrol to return. Things would be fine. Blazestar and Vermillionsun would talk things out and her leader would see that she was right, that there was no way Vermillion would-

She stops dead in her tracks as the scent of blood hits her nose and the sounds of a struggle come through the entrance. Horror would be the first emotion that hits her as she watches her mate and friend drag a familiar white and ginger pelt into the space.

Deersong is frozen in disbelief at the display, but it's the wounded eye on her friend's face that snaps her back and she bounds over, voices almost a wail as she looks at the three of them, "What happened?!"

The cream and mocha deputy looked horrible, fluttering between Thistleback and Tugger before finally looking at Vermillionsun with an expression that screamed pain and apology. She would then whirl onto the patrol once more as she meowed angrily, "I thought you were all going to TALK! Not THIS!"

Her eyes looked around for Blazestar, surely this wasn't his doing. It couldn't be. ​

( LET YOU BREAK; MY HEART AGAIN )

 

[ThistleBack]

Thistleback would be lying if he said he hadn’t given the man a little unnecessary push when he cursed his demands. " Could’ve fooled me. You can’t target apprentices on your own" he snarks back, eyes traversing the man’s wounded body with mutual hatred.

" you’ll take what herbs Dawnglare gives you, say thank you, and hold your tongue until asked a bloody question." Thistleback meows, " or hey- a viable option. Sparing us the waste of herbs, I could dress your wounds with mud for you " Thistleback hooks his claws in the dirt and pulls up a grassy clump. aiming to throw the spray of soil at Vermillonsun haphazardly. " prat " he huffs, eyes diverting from the spot in camp he and Crimsonbite deposited the sewer rogue. Deersong appears, her face morphing into a state of bewilderment.

Thistleback is frothing rabid at the heart with jealousy. The passion she had to defend him, to forgive so readily. It was nauseating, she’s angry it’s potent and Thistleback looks away with a muzzle crumpled in disgust. Coveting greedily for her strong emotions, that she gave to this wretch. " we brought him here to talk "

" he’s guilty. Deersong. Maybe not intentionally, but can’t you agree..if Vermilionsun hadn’t left to run a pack of marauder rogues. Centipedepaw would be here right now. He taught them to trod on our land, and take what they wanted " his voice softens as he speaks to her, only for her. " That’s just what happened, isn’t it? " he speaks rhetorically.

" he let you go. Why can’t you return the favor? " he speaks it out like it’s acidic vomit, so obviously ridden with jealousy and hate.

​

OOC INFO REF

• —
  
  
• 
  
  
  ✧ T H I S T L E B A C K
  thirty-three moons
  — warrior of Skyclan
  — taken by
  Deersong 9.29.22
  — mentoring quillpaw
  — very muscular piebald black and white tom with spiky fur and cold silver-grey eyes. ･ﾟ✧​
• 
  
  

​

 

[DAWNGLARE]

He doesn't know who it is, the tom being ushered into camp. But his eyes are downcast and he's flanked on all sides and he spits half-hearted venom; so, a prisoner, a suspect, a culprit, maybe? For some, some reason, Dawnglare is wanted, though. Not his first time with a sinner, and it would not be his last. But soon, too soon, he regrets it. Because his face is ruddy and his eyes brilliantly blue and he just looks like Blaise. Blaise, except... except...!

For once he can sympathize with the fawn-flanked witch (an admission that, on impulse, has his paw jittering against the ground.) Her horror is reflected in his own deep-set frown. "W-why, do you look like thaaat?" whining query. Sunshine in his eye, glossy, because the sight is so wrong. Bonefied-Blaise, a walking skeleton. Cowering suddenly with the snap to the others, not out of fear, but because he didn't like his face. Any sort of truce between the witch and him is promptly broken. She's upset at his incarceration, when such an ugly recreation shouldn't be allowed to roam these lands, he thinks.

Pouting at the witch's muse, he frowns pitifully at the offer. Treat him? But why? "Do the mud-dusting! He'll give me a diseaase. L-look at his plague-bitten face!" Shuffling in the dirt, he wouldn't touch him, unless– Teary eyes, kicked-kitten look to Blaise. "Do I have to?" Half-broken whine.​

 

[QUILLSTRIKE]

I FEEL LIKE AN ASTRONAUT IN THE OCEAN​

---

Quillpaw made his way over as the patrol returned, mismatched eyes regarding the group with an unreadable expression as they dropped their captive down and Deerson went rushing forward. He'd never seen her angry before, the sight of it making his shoulders tense, eyes narrowing slightly when Thistlebacks final words to her did nothing to hide the jealousy lurking within them. It put the towering youth on edge as he prowled nearer to the scene, well aware of the destruction those kinds of emotions could bring.

He hardly spared Vermillionsun a glance beyond his initial look at him, outsiders meaning little to him unless they were someone from his past. Silently he watched as Dawnglare came forward, prompting Thistlback to just cover them in mud so he wouldn't have to touch them. "Why would we give him our herbs?" he asked, confusiong slipping into his otherwise aloof tone. "It's leafbare, those herbs should be for our cats." he added, as if it should be obvious.

​

---

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

 

[BLAZESTAR]

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╮​

Blazestar feels strange, walking back into camp with a prisoner. It's not an action he's ever imagined himself taking, not one he'd imagined he's capable of. Blaise, the kittypet, watching his warriors tear into a cat screaming innocence, sewer water splashing like sparks, blood and torn fur in the air? He is almost numb, wrapped in thoughts on their trek home. Vermilionsun parrots, "I didn't kill that apprentice, Blaise," until their paws find camp.

Blazestar looks up at Vermilionsun's declaration, hate dripping from his voice, that he won't accept help from Dawnglare. The Ragdoll sighs and looks away. Squallmist has drawn his claws all over the other flame point's pelt. He needs medical attention just as bad as the silver tabby himself does.

Deersong's anger is quick. Blazestar knew she would be upset, but he has known since the beginning that Deersong still has some unspoken feelings for Vermilionsun. She would defend him, no matter what. Blazestar lifts his gaze to meet her's, preparing himself to say something and being intercepted by the deputy's mate.

"Thistleback is right. There was no use talking in the sewers. Vermilionsun claims he's innocent, and I still don't believe he brought his claws and teeth to Centipedepaw himself." He looks away. "But he is not entirely innocent. He brought those rogues to our borders."

Quillpaw asks with genuine confusion why SkyClan would waste the herbs. Blazestar sighs, giving Dawnglare, who actually has tears in his eyes, a sideways look. "We won't let him suffer unneccessarily. Please, Dawnglare. At least so his wounds don't fester..."

The enormity of what he's allowed to happen begins to gnaw at him. Leafbare, the dwindling fresh-kill pile, Dawnglare's pitiful stock of herbs, and he's brought a useless mouth to feed.

Blazestar looks at Vermilionsun again. He can't stay here long. I have to figure something out. A way to get him out of here safely while still doing justice for Centipedepaw... He tilts his head and says, "The Gathering. Perhaps one of the other leaders will know something. He must stay until then, though. Vermilionsun will be brought prey, what we can spare, anyways. We won't starve him or torture him."

He flicks his tail to and fro, anticipating backlash -- though he half-thinks Deersong's anger will be directed towards her mate after his words, rife with jealousy.

- ,,​

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[VERMILIONSUN]

❝ we're children playing at a game, screaming that the rules aren't fair. ❞

It's that damned conjurer.

Vermilionsun wobbles onto his paws then, backing himself into the back of the raggedy den he's sheltered in. Almost repulsed by Dawnglare's presence, as if a mere pawstep towards him could bur him to bits. Deersong spits in fury towards her mate and the rest of the toms present, but Vermilionsun finds no glory, no satisfaction in her wail. If anything, there's guilt there. "Just bring me older fresh-kill. I'm fine." He speaks more calmly this time, tail-tip flicking behind him. He's nursed plenty of wounds before. What would change this now?

Some apprentice speaks, asks why they should waste herbs on him. Dawnglare seems to agree, though he seems more tearful.

It's what Thistleback says that grinds his nerves once more. Flinging dirt his way. Vermilion admonishes him with a deadly glare, eyes of crashing waves settling on the tom's own. Try me, his eyes voice, screaming the tom to start a brawl with him. Ver didn't like fighting as much anymore, it didn't bring him happiness. But to see that stupid tom's face twist with jealousy only made Vermilion settle back down. Seems this one had a fragile ego. How pitiful, considering he had the most beautiful and kindest molly in the world falling at his paws to be with him. "Let the wounds heal naturally. I just need some wet moss and help cleaning 'em. No need to waste herbs on an alleged murderer." That was how they did it in the sewers, after all. Clean it with clean water and whatever else they could find. Ver had no idea how to use herbs, he just knew wounds had to stay clean. "Just keep that cursed thing away from me." He mumbles, glaring towards Dawnglare.​

​

 

[SQUALLMIST]

This isn't how this was meant to go. This isn't... Squallmist thought they'd run out the rogue, thought he'd never have to see him again after this.

Instead, Blazestar drags him back to camp, claims him as SkyClan's prisoner. It leaves his uncle and Thistleback to bring in the murderer - his lies repeated the whole trek, as if it would change anyone's mind - and leaves Squallmist to walk beside Blazestar, vision dark and blurred, face stained with blood.

Perhaps he should've struck Vermilionsun harder, left him to rot in the sewers.

The warrior hurts. His face stings, he can't see. Panic still fills him with each step - a fear that he'll never see things the same way ever again. He begs to the stars that Dawnglare can figure it out, that maybe he just needs some rest and cobwebs.

His ears flatten at the suddenness of Deersong's shouts. Anger. Of course, that was bound to happen with the mess they brought back. Squallmist should've been more prepared.

"Talking didn't work," he mutters, head lowered as he prepares for anger directed towards him. Deserved, he knows this.

Dawnglare appears, the murderer insists he doesn't need his help. Good, he thinks. They shouldn't have to use their resources on him. Shouldn't have to waste herbs and food a murderer, just because Blazestar wants to talk some more to the prisoner. He deserves punishment, to suffer. No matter what the leader may think.
​

 

[COSMOSBLOOM]

He awaits nervously for the patrol to arrive home, for his current mentor to return from talking to his past mentor. Cosmospaw isn't sure how to feel about what had happened. Though the ant killer's death was sad, was this... Was this something his former mentor would do? Was this his doing? Taking the apprentice's body, leaving nothing but vermilion behind?

It couldn't be. That's not the cat Cosmospaw knew. But, the last time he'd seen his first mentor, he'd changed, turned into someone he didn't recognize. Maybe this new version would kill apprentices after all.

All he can do is wait. Find out what his mentor had turned into from the patrol.

Except. They return with him. Blood-stained, torn into. Rain's child matches him, and Cosmospaw's stomach churns. What had happened? Had the rogue turned on him, too?

"You... You brought him here?" he asks, uncertainty in his voice. Somewhere within his words lays sadness - a concern that only grows when he finds out just why the rogue had been brought in. A prisoner, trapped within SkyClan's confines. Staying here, when he said he'd never come back.

It's unfair. Unfair to Cosmospaw that he has to see him every day until they set him free. Unfair to the rogue to keep him stuck looking at a home he never wanted to be in.
​

 

[~Deersong~]

( ♬ ) Deersong would stare at her mate as he gave his answers. Words dipped in venom that seemed to be aimed to hurt her as much as possible.

he let you go. Why can't you return the favor?

The cream and mocha molly would flinch away from him as if he had struck her with his own claws. Her mouth would set into a frown then, trembling as tears threatened to spill from her eyes, yet her gaze grew as hard as her stones and she spoke in a voice as cold as the snow on the ground, "Do you think I forgot? Hurting me won't fix your jealousy, Thistleback."

She would turn and walk away from him sharply, a gesture that showed she was done with him before turning to Blazestar and the others. Their answers did nothing to improve her anger that was now fueled by her mates' own words, and as she spoke her tone would be equally as cold, "Acting without proof of anything is going to do more harm than good, Blazestar. Where is the proof that it was one of Vermillion's rogues that killed Centipedepaw?" She looked back at Vermillionsun as he speaks and molly only feels further guilt that she could do nothing to help her old friend.

This is all so overwhelming, and Deersong wished she could cuff every one of their ears to wake them up from how ridiculous this all was. Her half-tail would lash in further frustration as Squallmist spoke next, but she would say nothing to him, what more could she say that they would actually listen to?

Cosmopaw's small voice would pipe up then and finally, her fury would slowly dissipate into concern as she turned towards the apprentice. Unfair. Yes, it all was so very unfair wasn't it? Her claws would dig into the earth as she realized no matter what she said; it would not matter.

They hadn't listened to her, none of them had. What was the point of being deputy when her words meant nothing and they did as they wanted anyway? She would give them each a scathing look before snorting and lashing her tail. Deersong had never felt so overlooked before and something about it hurt her more than she could describe with words. Giving Vermillionsun one last look, she would shake her head and meow tensely, "I'll go hunting then."

As she moved to leave camp, she would stop beside Thistleback, and in a voice low enough for only him to hear she would hiss, "Stay away from me." it was then that if he turned to look at her, he would see the tears that his words had caused flow down her cheeks as she hurried out of camp and out into the cold.

//
outs~

​

( LET YOU BREAK; MY HEART AGAIN )