pafp SNAKE CHARMER [🌙] waking up

[SOOTSTAR]

In the distance a songbird sings.

Sootstar opens her eyes just to be spontaneously blinded by the overbearing sunlight slipping into her chambers. She groans as she blinks away sleep, wincing at the headache that stormed against her temple. Aside from the deep gash in her neck and the pain that plagued her body, it could’ve almost been confused as a regular day. Maybe in another life where she had walked a different path it would’ve been.

This was unmistakable, however, as a living nightmare. Leaning in she recognizes the two tabby pelts that stand guard at he entrance of her den yet to notice she was awake. It was horrifying to know they did not watch over her regenerating carcass to protect her, but to imprison her.

Swallowing back the faint taste of iron lingering in her mouth she slowly tries to rise onto her paws. Green eyes dilate onto the guards as if they were two hares nibbling on grass, unsuspecting of the killer who stalked from behind. Instead of finding her paws she finds her nest again with an ”Umph.”, her head yowling at her causing for a more agonizing groan to spill from her maw. She places her paws atop her head and digs her own claws into her skull in a fruitless attempt to rid the head splitting sensation.

A shadow moves in and blocks the sunlight from seeping into her den. Defensively Sootstar hisses before she even knows who it is.

☾ INFO BATTLE

• Please do not post until after @SUNSTRIDE
• 
  » Soot ․ Sootstar
  » WindClan Prisoner
  » She/her ․ Mate to Weaselclaw
  » Tiny blue smoke she-cat with green eyes.
  » "Speech" ․ thoughts ․ attack
  
• 
  » A high-stamina foe who can be difficult to hit.
  » Excels in quick, short moves.
  » Fights to kill and maim
  » Fatal attack of choice is an underbelly dive.
  » May powerplay minor harm. Can powerplay healing

​

 

[SUNSTAR]

There were none left that would carefully clean the mess of death from Sootstar's fur. Now more than ever before, the loss of her life clings to her frame. Or perhaps he had simply never noticed the depth of it before. She is death itself, the darkness of rot. A pathetic, weak shadow of who she had once been, curled into her nest. It will never cease to amaze him, all that StarClan can do. Even if she did not deserve their boons any longer. Their ancestors should have ripped these lives from her moons ago. It should have been her final breath beneath him on that battlefield. By his count, she cannot have many more remaining. She deserves no less than to have each one ripped from her in succession. Why he does not do it now, Sunstride still cannot say.

As the shadow of his shoulders fills the space of her nest, cold eyes skate along her neck. The ruby-crusted fur that had once gleamed white, hiding the scars she gave herself for all those that followed her. It had seemed honorable. Eternal. A bond shared between them that could not be broken. Now her claws have torn over the same flesh thrice, and he wishes he could take it from his skin entirely. There would be no such mercy. Not for either of them. She had certainly not spared it for anyone under her guard. He slips between the pair of tense, bloodied shoulders to meet the cornered snake without an ounce of kindness.

"How many of your lives remain?" Though instinct calls to name her Sootstar, she has not been that for many moons. There are no others nearby they could mistake his words for.

𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐘 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓  ╱╱ 𝐈𝐒 𝐀 𝐕𝐔𝐋𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 〚 11.22.2023 〛 —————«

• OOC. —
• 

  SUNSTRIDE. WINDCLAN DEPUTY & MOOR RUNNER.
  ——– HE – HIM – HIS ╱╱ 48+ MOONS OLD, ADULT.

  NPC x NPC, LONERS. MATE TO WOLFSONG; FATHER TO BEARPAW, SINGEDPAW, RIVEPAW, SUNLITPAW AND FEATHERPAW. MENTORING SCORCHPAW.
  
  TH ╱╱ LARGE CHOCOLATE ROSETTE TABBY, ICY EYES.

• "speech"

​

 

[SOOTSTAR]

When she looks up her face is twisted and ugly. Her brows furrowed to both combat her pounding head and in a show of disgust. The shadow in her den was Sunstride, she wants nothing more than to lunge forward and take him to the ground. To pierce her claws into his pelt once more-
if only her body would allow her to.

She cannot move, the wound along her neck would easily open. Her body was battered and bruised; her legs turned to mush. Sootstar was weak and exhausted, at her weakest she's been since receiving her nine lives from StarClan. Even she knows it now, victory is out of her paws, she's lost.

'How many of your lives remain?' Sootstar aims to spit at him, her saliva still bloody from their fight. "Why would I tell you, mange-pelt?" Her lips unfold into a hiss and her tail whips aggressively against her nest; however, her body language is shockingly more defensive than offensive. "Maybe you should come over here and find out for yourself. Bite into my neck and we'll see how many more times I come back. Or have you lost your nerve?" Her eyes grow dark as she challenges the mental fortitude of the flame rosette.

☾ INFO BATTLE

• 
  » Soot ․ Sootstar
  » WindClan Prisoner
  » She/her ․ Mate to Weaselclaw
  » Tiny blue smoke she-cat with green eyes.
  » "Speech" ․ thoughts ․ attack
  
• 
  » A high-stamina foe who can be difficult to hit.
  » Excels in quick, short moves.
  » Fights to kill and maim
  » Fatal attack of choice is an underbelly dive.
  » May powerplay minor harm. Can powerplay healing

​

 

[SCORCHSTREAK]

༄༄ How the mighty have fallen, indeed. Granted, Sootstar did not fall—no, the moorland adder would never slip in such a way. The truth of her landing is worse. Pushed over the edge of a mountain that she climbed too high upon, unable to touch the stars but oh so eager to reach their height anyway. Her claws could take lives, but when it came down to it, she just couldn't cling to the cliff's edge. Scorchstreak knows what it's like, hanging on by the tips of her claws to an unending cliff face.

Her attention has drifted, she realizes, as she tunes back in to the sound of Sootstar's challenging hiss. The smoky-furred feline dares Sunstride to attack her, and for a moment Scorchstreak worries that Sootstar may strike out at the tom first; however, Sootstar seems more wary than aggressive. The calico says nothing, but looks down on the disgraced leader with all the respect that she would show to something she'd find in the dirtplace. Her golden eyes remain narrowed; though she will not be the one to make the first move, but she glances to Sunstride with a grimace set on her scarred muzzle. Should Sootstar make any move to escape, she will have to fight her way through the both of them. And with presumably only one life remaining (why else would she refuse to answer, the calico thinks) she will not survive such an escape attempt.​

​

 

[SUNSTAR]

He had been told of a story quite like what Scorchstreak mentions. Of a king who had sought power and wealth far greater than what he deserved. One who climbed far into the peaks that they had called their home and still found the tallest of its places wanting. Not enough. Never enough. It was a terrible fate. Falling for an eternity, awaiting the final collision. His father had thought that it might never come, and Sunnvar had asked him, then: does that mean he succeeded? If there is enough time to fall forever, did she not climb forever first? The child finds his answer in the cat before him. She may fall forever, yes, and still be unworthy of the heights she climbed. Ambitions alone could only carry one so far. And she would never recover from her final failure.

His hackles raise. Perhaps it is the strength of the guards behind him, but he rises to her challenge with all of his strength. A sharp contrast to her withered form. "No, my nerve remains; it is your cruelty that we have finally rid ourselves of. You think yourself a threat? You think that I would be so easily manipulated as to give you what you want?" His voice has raised higher and higher with each syllable of his speech. Thick fur bristles up between the warrior's shoulders. "You live only as proof of StarClan's love for you, and all that you abandoned them for!"

𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐘 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓  ╱╱ 𝐈𝐒 𝐀 𝐕𝐔𝐋𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 〚 11.22.2023 〛 —————«

• OOC. —
• 

  SUNSTRIDE. WINDCLAN DEPUTY & MOOR RUNNER.
  ——– HE – HIM – HIS ╱╱ 48+ MOONS OLD, ADULT.

  NPC x NPC, LONERS. MATE TO WOLFSONG; FATHER TO BEARPAW, SINGEDPAW, RIVEPAW, SUNLITPAW AND FEATHERPAW. MENTORING SCORCHPAW.
  
  TH ╱╱ LARGE CHOCOLATE ROSETTE TABBY, ICY EYES.

• "speech"

​

 

[Morningsong~]

He hadn't expected the decision to keep Sootstar prisoner. He expected her to be slaughtered outright when it was seen she was healing. This is better though. Yes, much better. Watching her pitiful movements as she wakes makes him want to laugh. Sunstride is speaking with her, and he paces closer. He has a... A primal. Visceral need... To kick her while she's down. No kindness shines in his gaze when he arrives to sit beside Sunstride, only cold glee.

"Oh! I do! I have the nerve, too!" He chimes in. "And I hope you have plenty of lives left, so you can die again and again... And when you reach your last life... We could take you to the gorge and find a nice jagged rock for you to land on." He continues, claws gripping the ground. His once soft and kind grin twisted into something sadistic and malicious. "Ah... But it would be too kind to reunite you with Weaselclaw so quickly...You don't deserve that comfort."

Looking at her in her current state up close makes him chuckle. "This brings back memories though, doesn't it? Trapped in your own den, your own camp, held prisoner by your own clanmates.... Ah, we should invite Dandelionwish over! He would love this I bet." He says wistfully. He doubts Dandelionwish would come even if asked, but wouldn't it be funny? Though, his heart is kinder than Morninsongs, maybe he would tell them to just end it. Truthfully, the former medicine cats face is blurry to him now.​

 

[PINKSHINE]

Pinkpaw would huddle beside her mentor, fur prickling uncomfortably along her spine. She thinks she's allowed to frown right now— when Sootstar is snarling and ugly and bloody... She thought they won, and they could all go home now, but Sootstar was here being as mean as ever... I thought we won, she almost says, but maybe they did, because only Sootstar looked as ugly as she did right now. " We won, right? " she asks instead, shuffling her paws... She kinda wishes so many cats didn't have to get hurt to win, but um, she guesses... Worrying about what already happened wasn't any fun at all.

Pinkpaw wanted Sootstar gone. Duh, 'F course, but... she doesn't think she really wants to see all the blood N' stuff. She doesn't wanna see her die again and again, or push her onto jagged rocks... She thinks... everyone ELSE should just go do something fun, and Sootstar can walk to StarClan all by herself. Wasn't death super bad and stuff? " That's not very nice... " she mumbles to Morningsong. He would be in big trouble if Brightshine knew he said that, she thinks.

She doesn't really like the blood. No, not really... She closes her eyes and huddles to the ground. She'd let Sunstride do all the blood - seeing for her...

staring at the mirror gotta smile, smile 🌸🌷🦄🦩 don't be late, we got plans!

• 

• NOTE: SHE IS A FEVER COAT BABY!!
  

  

• ( IT'S TIME TO START A FUCKING RIOT, RIOT! ) PINKPAW APPRENTICE OF WINDCLAN. DAUGHTER TO BRIGHTSHINE & HEAVY SNOW. SISTER TO HEATHPAW, DOWNYPAW, & FINCHPAW.
  —— SHE / HER; UNOPPOSED TO THE USE OF OTHERS
  —— CURRENTLY 6 MOONS OLD. AGES EVERY 16TH
  
  A tiny, longhaired calico she - kit with sunburst eyes ringed blue around her pupils (central heterochromia). While you can clearly see her flame markings on her face, the rest of her body is currently covered by a grey fever - coating. Though the whites of her are still very much visible. Pinkpaw bounces around WindClan without a care in the world! Her emotions are big, and she makes little effort to regulate them, resulting in both her usually cheerful disposition, as well as making her prone to sudden bouts of extreme anger or sadness. Rarely seen without a smile!
  

  HEAVY IC OPINIONS! Pinkpaw is a very irrational and childish character!​

​

 

[SOOTSTAR]

Sootstar scoffs, ”My cruelty? I did what was required to keep WindClan strong.” They wouldn’t see that, she knows it is like trying to win a barking contest against a pack of dogs. She draws her long tail close to her body and narrows her eyes against the former deputy, ”Don’t pretend you did not serve me. For many moons you obeyed my commands like a dog to a twoleg. You hardly shine brighter than I.” She twists and turns her barbed tongue, aiming to strike a nerve or send a reminder to eavesdropping cats.

StarClan, if it was up to them she would’ve been squished under a monster paw moons ago. Sootstar stands alive today thanks to her own wits, her own resilience, she thanks herself for how long she’s lasted. ”StarClan loves me as much as they love you. Do you really think they look down upon you favorably?” Foolish. Naive.

As sharp as a thistle her eyes cut across Sunstride and onto Morningsong as he welcomes himself into her den. Her claws unsheathe in a warning that if he got too close she’d strike. The tabby and white cat speaks of killing her over and over again, of throwing her into the gorge on her final life. She smirks in realization that if anything, he proves her point to Sunstride. ”You and your batch of traitors are hardly better than I am.” His vivid desire to see her suffer only sounds like something Sootstar would’ve encouraged WindClan to do against their enemies as it’s leader. Whether Sunstride likes it or not her claws have dug into this clan deep, even if they killed her traces of her would linger in them all.

The only nerve struck is when he mentioned Weaselclaw, she parts her lips and hisses. ”Keep his name out of your dung-eating mouth!” Vulgarly she roars, her pupils growing into the size of moons. ”He was the better warrior of you all. He loved this clan and if he could’ve he would’ve happily died for it. How dare you belittle him into a tool to mock me!” Spit flies from her maw, her fury blinding her to the little calico who huddles next to her mentor nearby.

☾ INFO BATTLE

• 
  » Soot ․ Sootstar
  » WindClan Prisoner
  » She/her ․ Mate to Weaselclaw
  » Tiny blue smoke she-cat with green eyes.
  » "Speech" ․ thoughts ․ attack
  
• 
  » A high-stamina foe who can be difficult to hit.
  » Excels in quick, short moves.
  » Fights to kill and maim
  » Fatal attack of choice is an underbelly dive.
  » May powerplay minor harm. Can powerplay healing

​

 

[SCORCHSTREAK]

༄༄ The fur along Sunstride’s spine bristles, and the tom stands in fierce opposition to his disgraced enemy. For a heartbeat the tunneler thinks that he will rise to the bait, will end the former leader’s life here and now—as is his right. But he doesn’t, and instead spits and snarls in the face of Sootstar’s venomous words. He will make his decision on the she-snake’s fate soon enough, and Scorchstreak has already decided to stand at his side no matter what he chooses to do. Sootstar tries to turn blame back upon Sunstride, claiming he’s no better than her, calling them all traitors. But the calico will not be swayed. Sunstride had gained her trust the moment he approached Rattleheart and herself, asking for their aid in returning stolen kits to their home clan.

Morningsong mentions Dandelionwish, and the tunneler feels a bit as though she’s been struck. They’d all been lied to, deceived, by Sootstar. They’d all believed her, and followed her every order. She isn’t wrong—they all have blood on their paws. But Sootstar’s sins greatly outweigh her own, do they not? What is worse, to be a warrior following the orders of a cat they all put their trust in, or to be a leader speaking every word through a forked tongue? Besides, surely finishing off Sootstar, standing against her in the first place, makes it even. Will the other clans think the same—will StarClan?

Though she appears unbothered, something in her gut churns uncomfortably, like claws sinking through her ribcage. Sootstar flies into a rage at the mention of her starbound mate, and even the satisfaction of seeing the queen so disheveled cannot press past the guilt that gnaws at her. Weaselclaw was a good clanmate, a good warrior, a good friend. It’s a shame that every memory she has of him will be forever dimmed by the veil of darkness that Sootstar’s legacy has draped over the clan. She clenches her jaw, catching the inside of her cheek between her teeth until the taste of blood seeps across her tongue. "Yes, Pinkpaw." Fire dances in her gaze, darting from Sunstride to Sootstar, and then finally to the apprentice huddled at her side. Pinkpaw is hunched to the ground, eyes squeezed shut as though attempting to block out the sight before her. Scorchstreak does not think she should be here, so close to such a dangerous cat, but at the same time she will not force Pinkpaw to leave her side. "We won."​

​

 

[BLUEFROST]

She should not have come here, to this place where once her mother had reigned the moorland from. Her den is circled by enemies now, by Sunstride, his dappled pelt ruffling golden in the breeze, by Scorchstreak, her gleaming eyes flashing like fire. Bluefrost’s stomach drops as she catches sight of Sootstar crumpled and weak in her own den, kept prisoner like some rabid predator. Indeed, her mother froths at the mouth, cursing Morningsong for taking Weaselclaw’s name in vain. Bluefrost tries to meet Sootstar’s gaze—and finds that she cannot. That blood-soaked creature is not the warlord she had been birthed by, is not the fierce and determined mentor who’d taken her through the tunnels for the first time.

But she is—isn’t she? She had always been this, deep down.

Bluefrost loves her. She wants to go to her now, wants to bury her blood-flecked face in scarlet-stained fur. She wants to bow at her mother’s paws. She wants to cry.

She does none of this. She only exhales—a sharp sound, through her nostrils—and pivots, fleeing from the scene, from Morningsong tormenting Sunstride’s captive, from the broken, shadowy creature her mother has become.

『 out of character. 』 ✧･ﾟ:* 『 about. 』

• ooc: —
• 
• Bluekit . Bluepaw . Bluefrost, she/her w/ feminine terms.
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — 13 moons old, ages realistically on the 14th.
  — mentored by Sootstar ; mentoring n/a ; previously mentored n/a.
  — windclan warrior. sootstar x weaselclaw, gen 2.
  — penned by Marquette.
  
  
  lh blue and white she-cat with emerald eyes. aloof, dignified, poised, haughty, composed, distant.
  
  

​

 

[RATTLEHEART]

She had intended to keep her distance. Should have kept her distance, if she were in her right mind.

There would be no benefit to going and seeing the mad queen now, even with the sense of satisfaction that might arise from seeing her at her lowest point. She had already hurt them all terribly - more than could ever be forgiven - and Rattleheart wanted nothing more than to see her buried beneath the dirt. Or perhaps thrown into the gorge, separated from the moors that she had claimed she would rule over for all eternity. It would be a fitting end for a cat like her, whose mind had gradually morphed into its own gorge full of grandiose ideas and ego. Sootstar should be dead, but the younger tunneler saw no reason to distrust Sunstride's actions now. Not after everything.

Lingering outside of the den, her pale gaze wasn't full of the blazing fury that one might have expected. Instead she just looked on with a sort of passive disgust, ashamed that she had ever followed the disgraced leader before her. Even if it had been for her family, even if she had constantly been biting back barbs on her tongue... she had still once been loyal to Sootstar, even if that felt like eons ago now. Her fury, which once might have seemed so terrifying, now seemed only like the tantrum of a kit that had had their favorite mossball taken away, Rattleheart's ears pinning back as she listened to her ramblings. She had no way of knowing how Weaselclaw would have felt now, had he still been alive, but she couldn't help but think he would be disappointed. The husk before them clearly wasn't what he had fallen in love with - or at least Rattleheart hoped she wasn't, if only for his sake.

Although her mind was full of plenty of things that she wanted to say, she found that none of them felt proper for the moment. Not when Sootstar had already been defeated. Not when she had inflicted as much damage as she would be allowed to. Not when that damage was still reflected in the eyes of Bluefrost's fleeing form, a warrior that had suffered immeasurably thanks to her mother's cruelty. There was no grand speech to be made, so Rattleheart only raised her voice briefly, enough to be heard even from her position in the background. "Goodbye, Soot." As soon as the words left her muzzle she turned, dirtied paws carrying her after Bluefrost. If Sootstar was unable to provide any love - any care - then the traitors would.
​

[ PENNED BY EO ]​

 

[Bluepool]

In the hours following their victory, Bluepool has been quieter than usual. This did not feel like the rush of adrenaline and joy one felt after winning a abttle that would gain them something whether it be over territory or herbs. No. This felt more sordid, like a funeral for something still living. Her sister is a shell of the cat she once was and anyone with eyes could see that. it is strange, to see someone you once loved and admired in such a contrastingly different light. No longer is she Soot her littermate, and no longer is she Sootstar her leader but instead the cat before them is something else - someone else.

This is a dance that Bluepool does not wish to be present for, if she is honest. It hurts to look upon her sister and to know who she once was was no longer who she was now. It hurts to hear the venom spewed from her mouth, speaking of cruelty and how easily they had all followed her. Back then, Bluepool had thought they were doing what was right. WindClan was strong, they were star-chosen. But now...

A hiss escapes her lips when Morningsong speaks and her silvered paw raises then flies through the air, cuffing him over the ears "If you cannot hold your tongue Morningsong, then leave" she spits, foam flecking her lips in her ferocity, in the anger that is not fully directed at the kin of Brightshine.

She does not dare look at her sister once.

​

 

[SOOTSPOT]

She should be dead. Dead and voiceless, so he did not have to hear about the many ways he had betrayed her to save himself. The scar upon his chest was raw as he drifted closer, head tilted upwards and eyes bearing downwards onto feral green. A lot could be said, but as ever, his voice was a muted thing, words came out of his throat as if dragged along jagged rocks, key things often missed, real motives conveniently left behind in a myriad of half-truths. Sootstar had taught him well, but it was a difficult thing to consider the long-furred creature beneath him his mother - the position did not hold the power it once had within the moors. Still, each derogatory comment towards her felt off, as if even now, he should push the naysayers off of the gorge. Unsheathed claws tapped the bloodied battlefield, briefly, Sootspot's gaze faltered to them. 'I still want them to die...' Sunstride, Rattleheart, now Morningsong. They'd only done the same thing he had, but they had done it first, and left the chimera no choice. That was an easy story to tell himself, even if it would not stop the hatred in his mother's eyes.

He breaks his silence with a quiet request, ears perked forwards and that easy smile masking the conflict upon his maw. It looked as polite as it always had, but chartreuse eyes revealed the truth: Sootspot was millions of tail-lengths away, lost in his own head, wondering if things could have been different, wondering if, had he stayed, he would not have to risk Sootstar's wrath? She was a far scarier thing than StarClan, even when kept so demeaningly in her den by traitors and sycophants. "Where is my sister? Where is Shrikethorn?" Being neither a rebel or a loyalist left her prospects slim, she had not been in the tunnels during the fights nor had she graced the surface with her jealous presence. He hoped she had run away, hoped his mother would say the same, but hope had been an intangible thing for some time, and she would want him to hurt. Sootspot inhaled, steeling himself against the inevitable fire to come.


​