pafp No heart line, no sun line ⤜ Casual confrontation

shriketalon

Gonna bay for the blood
May 11, 2024
64
12
8

Of course Shrike had noticed that outburst Betonyfrost had towards Chilledstar, whatever that confrontation was about it clearly wasn’t meant to be a private one. Unless she just naturally had that presence that would drag everyone into whatever spat she had. They understood that they would not understand half of the clan politics or inner workings amongst clan-mates. They didn’t particularly care to speak with anyone to uncover deep history, Shrike may not respect the clan system sometimes but they were aware of where they stood in it. Operating on a need to know basis, of which they did not need to know, such were the joys of coming in as an outsider.

There was a dying curiosity to them though, that spark of nosiness that they reserved just to figure out their half sibling. Chilledstar was an unattainable mystery to them, there was a huge gap in their knowledge regarding them. They’ve only known them for a moon of their life, coming around to two at the most. That was just the tip of the iceberg, how much did they not know? Thoughts circled back to Betonyfrost, to that weird spat that she decided to have out with them. Their desire to reach out to her was not just because of their curiosity but because of the simple fact that Chilledstar was family, they were loathed to admit but the fact wouldn’t change.

They could feel the claws of their protectiveness over their kin claw at their skin. The thought of someone bothering their half sibling, got under their skin and caused them to gain a second hand anger. Only in a matter of the belief that only Shrike could do that. There was a difference there, they seemed genuinely really mad at Betonyfrost and they couldn’t blame the ShadowClan leader for it. Puffing their chest out they walked over to the tabby, their intentions not clear by the way they presented themself.

Their usual lopsided smile was ever present as there was a slight sway to their movements. “Hey so, what’s your deal?” They ask rather bluntly, an easy going tone present. There was no way to beat around that bush, it was always going to boil down to this so why not be direct? They enjoyed jumping into conflict head first after all. “You were real mad back there, with Chilledstar I mean. What’s up with that?” They sniff as they glance over their shoulder at the camp clearing, their general stance was neutral despite that annoying protectiveness they felt. Shrike wasn’t aiming for a heated scene like the one that happened a few sunrises ago merely just trying to figure out what was going on surrounding this particular puzzle of their half siblings life.



  • OOC. Please wait for @betonyfrost ! This takes place before WindClan steals
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  • Shrike│Bio
    They / Them, Loner , 28 moons {ages on the 1st},
    A long haired black feline with low white spotting and hazel eyes.
    Jagged x NPC
    Speech, #ad744a, thoughts, attacking
    peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
    penned by Juice ↛ @/ouijeejuice on discord, feel free to dm for plots.

 
Under normal circumstances the bulk of Betonyfrost's feelings are acknowledged only in passing and always as insults. Subtly had never come to Betonyfrost about her love, even in the start when it was butterflies and daisies. Now that it is hunger, now that Betonyfrost knows starvation, there is truly no hiding it. Had it been anyone else who had felt as she did, either as strongly or as loyally, the other would have taken it as a blessing.

Shrike's question surprises Betonyfrost in only the hollowest sense: she hadn't thought anyone would ask because she had assumed everyone had known. She had assumed the whole of ShadowClan had known but—then again, blood relations aside, Shrike wasn't really ShadowClan.

"I would venture to say I'm still mad," She gestures in a space near where she lays in quiet invitation for Shrike to sit, "Others might say I'm mad in the sense of insanity, but that is only because they have never been as lovesick as I am now," She is incapable of speaking on this without teeth to her words; there is an undercurrent of danger in her otherwise calm voice.

"Chilledstar has never cared how I felt in any aspect of my life—whether it is my feelings for them or my feelings towards those," She gestures with her wilted ears distastefully towards the nursery. The spawn of her own kit's murderer lived there and Betonyfrost was expected to swallow that fact, "The other day I simply... it got too much for me, all of this. Take it as a reflection of me if you wish, but know it isn't a reflection I've made myself."​
shadowclan warrior | blue mackerel tabby | 33 moons | tags
 
"your idea of love and mine are two different things, betonyfrost."

this again. she's crazy. she will never leave them alone. her emotions get the best of her and she claims they've never once stopped to think about that. as if. they have tried everything. to let her down easy. to be blunt. even threatening her. she doesn't listen. all she sees is the fact that they give her attention. they think she quite likes when they yell at her, under the idea of any attention being good attention. they try to ignore her and she finds someway to get their attention yet again. they don't like it. they don't like her. they've tried to be her friend but she always takes it too far. why must she always take it too far?

"don't lie to them. tell them to truth of your so called love. tell them the truth behind your misguided anger. you have every right to br mad at siltcloud but she's dead now. her kits have nothing to do with the passing of your own. and I will always... my heart hurts thinking about comfreypaw. she did not deserve to die. but that is not marblekit or sycamorekit's fault. no one should be blamed for the actions of their parents."

they lashed their tail.

"as for being lovesick... I think you got one part of that right. you are sick. but you are not in love with me. stop pretending to be. you're hurting yourself. I want nothing more than for you to be happy, betonyfrost, but you seem to not want that for yourself. you cannot love me. and I do not love you."

they turn to shrike, an unamused look on their face.

"you're too curious for your own good. must have gotten that from your mother."

it's not necessarily a jab, even if it may seem like it. there was no fire behind it at all. they just know that jagged wasn't really like that.

———————---***i try to live in black and white***———————---

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  • black feline with a white marking across their face, a white chin, a white right front paw, and blue eyes. chilledstar is covered in scars, the most prominent ones being the one across their face, and the one across their neck.
    47 moons old; ages the 3rd every month
    they / them pronouns
    aromantic / homosexual ; currently not looking
    child of JAGGED and RAVEN
    shadowclan ; loyal to shadowclan ; other info if applicable
    mildly difficult to befriend ; trusts barely anyone; trusts no one outside of shadowclan
    "speech", thoughts, attacking
    peaceful powerplay allowed
 

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ- Aside from the drama of her own family, she found theatrics such as this to be quite amusing at times. Hollowmask was sprawled out on the ground not far from the group of bickering cats, moreso tuned into Shrike's curiosity than anything. It wasn't until Chilledstar came and joined the fray that she opened the eye facing away from the group to eavesdrop. Unrequited love? Oh, how dramatic.. She thought to herself with amusement, stretching long limbs out before standing up.

She makes a point to dip her head to Chilledstar specifically as she walks past them, ears flicking as dull golden eyes momentarily make contact with Shrike. Something about them was so.. Mysterious. She wanted to know more, but surely him being nosy wasn't all that interesting. Perhaps she'd have to keep an eye on them, so she could see what they're on about.

"Hmm.. It's unbecoming of her to act as she does." Hollowmask mumbles as she slips into the shadows once more, her cinnamon-chocolate pelt disappearing into the shrubbery. Perhaps she'd make better use of her time just by hunting for now.

// In and out! She's a lurker sometimes, I apologize.

  • 84067192_hjWqJiHfsJGPhBZ.png
  • HOLLOWMASK she/her, warrior of shadowclan, thirty moons.
    big, bulky body that stands at 10in, with long, wild and spiky fur. gives off eerie vibes despite oftentimes seen smiling.
    no close friends // dislikes nobody // no mate, no children.
    will kill / will not show mercy / will rarely flee
    [DANGER!!] this character is cunning, manipulative, sadistic, and controlling yet hiding under a friendly guise. please proceed with caution when interacting with her. ic opinions/actions are ic only.
    attempts at healing is permitted, peaceful powerplay is permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
    penned by @icaria ↛ @icariarests on discord, feel free to dm for plots.

 


Someone needs to carry out a case study on Betonyfrost. She leaves him at an utter loss, a living, breathing contradiction. A keen mind such as hers should resist delusion's pull more firmly. That's just the logical assumption. She doesn't simply succumb to it, though, rather the molly full-on embraces it. Right down to her dying breath, she defends every convoluted, batshit conclusion she arrives at, almost martyr-like in her certitude. Like a spoiled kit presented with their favorite food, she digs in and refuses to even humour the possibility she could be in the wrong.

Compounding this, Smogmaw cannot determine what was more troublesome; her distorted outlook or the unhealthy fixation it breeds. Black-tipped ears rise to face Betonyfrost each and every time her maw goes ajar, part in vigilance for the next absurdity, part in vain hope she might have finally seen the light. The ongoing exchange had quickly snuffed out any optimism Smogmaw foolishly held onto—the only illumination she'll welcome into her life is whatever nonsense bubbles from her mind's murky recesses.

Shrike shouldn't have prodded at the proverbial hornets' nest. The intense preoccupation that Betonyfrost had with her leader, her unwillingness to accept rejection... rationality has flown from her mind. Damn Chilledstar for affording her the courtesy they did in their response.

He can't place a paw on if it's duty which goads him forward or a swelling urge to prove her wrong. Maybe the two are one in the same. Plodding steps bring the deputy nearer to his clanmates, all the while fending off the scowl tugging at his muzzle. "I mean to say this in the least offensive way possible," he meows dryly, "but you've been sipping on too much swampwater."

A paltry sum of acknowledgement is spent on the two other cats - cursory glances at most - before Smogmaw's attention is squarely back on the nub-earred nutcase. "Got one thing right. You are mad, and more that than 'lovesick'. What possesses you to think this way, huh? Where're your senses at?"

Tangent, but there's a pretty sound reason why he never assigns her to the same patrol as him.

 
"Tell yourself those kits are harmless if it makes your conscious clear," She spits, and this is as calmly as she can speak at the moment, "I'm sure after the moons pass us by and we find the first of many bodies—I'm sure we'll all hang our heads and say that we had no way to know such a cat was living in our ranks." The problem is that Chilledstar looks upon Siltcloud's brood and sees kits in truth. The problem is that this had been Betonyfrost's home first, before those kits and before ShadowClan was an idea.

Her folded paws flex into the ground. She has never been good at putting her claws away.

It is only by the grace of StarClan that Betonyfrost is as calm as she is now. She listens with an ever-growing scowl as Chilledstar presumes Betonyfrost's feelings—presumes her thoughts, presumes her motives. There is no experience that is as simultaneously infuriating as it is disheartening. Her heart thumps an angry rhythm in her chest and she rises with the same steady determination as a plant reaching skyward. Beneath Betonyfrost, her legs tremble with the force of her restraint.

"Is it that I am not allowed to know my own emotions, now?" She wants to step once more into Chilledstar's space. She wants to push the hard-set boundaries—she wants to know the danger in that. This: rising to her paws and remaining in place, is restraint, "Am I too stupid or dull to know my own heart? I tell you my exact thoughts and you don't believe me because—because" Betonyfrost grasps uselessly for a reason and finds none—finds only that Chilledstar is cruel, or wishes to be cruel.

Why would she be pretending? She feels the feverbright of love burn through her, inward to out, and wonders how anyone could be so bold as to deny the existence of such a thing.

"Next time I'm wounded I'll remember my every feeling is pretend to you and then the bleeding will have stopped itself." Betonyfrost wants to be closer. She wants to strike Chilledstar, or else she wants Chilledstar to strike her. She wants the whole of herself to not feel like it is crumbling, if only for a day. This is restraint: she reminds herself again and again. This is restraint. She does not step forward. Instead, her round face whips Smogmaw's way, her lip curled to show teeth.

"Nothing I can say will make you any less obtuse," It is a simple thing. It has always been a simple thing: Betonyfrost is in love. There is nothing simpler than the soft contradictions of love and there is nothing more consuming than the whole of it. Betonyfrost will always follow love—follow Chilledstar—the same way a drop of water will always follow the subtle grooves in a stone when it makes its downward trek. ​
shadowclan warrior | blue mackerel tabby | 34 moons | tags