stay bright ‘til we’re burned — joining

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MARKIPLIERBITE

Guest
The shelter was a strange place, but one that Markiplier had grown accustomed to after a few weeks (and the free food didn’t hurt, either). He’d been a bit reluctant to leave, in the end, when someone had come by to take him home. His new owner is kind, though, and treats him like the king that he is—even calls him the King of Freddy or something like that. Whatever that means.

Still, while he’d been at the shelter he’d gradually grown concerned about the strange influx of new cats who’d shown up. They called themselves SkyClanners, of a feral colony called SkyClan in the pine forest, and they all claimed to have been kidnapped (or rather, catnapped). Now that he’s free, he can at least help them, and satiate his curiosity at the same time. Their SkyClan sounded pretty cool, all things considered.

When he reaches a scent line that suddenly cuts across the land before him, the tabby tom stops short with a grunt. This must be SkyClan, he knows it. Plus—it would just be embarrassing if he showed up at the border to WindClan or something; he’s heard stories of their tyranny and bad relationship with SkyClan. "SkyClan! I know how you can get your cats back," he shouts, nearly doubling over on himself as he stands at the border, panting hard.

The scent line is a bit confusing, he thinks idly. Should he… cross it? What’s the worst that could happen, really? Cats lay scent lines all over in the spaces between their houses, and nobody really cares about crossing those. Is it the same when it’s a colony of feral cats that’s laid the scent lines? Maybe he’ll ask about it, whenever someone actually shows up. But first he’s got to let them know where their missing clanmates are.
[ space was so cool… ]
 
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Clan life is weird. Bunny hasn’t actually had to live by anybody else’s rules in forever, so it’s a bit of an adjustment, and the hierarchy is like… way more complicated than that of any loner group he’s ever seen. The leader is straightforward enough, but everyone else’s rank is a mystery — what the hell is a medicine cat, anyway? And who is he supposed to listen to when they order him around? So far he’s assumed “everyone”, since he’s brand new and has no idea what he’s doing here, but he’d like to have a better idea. Mostly so he can know who he’s allowed to tell no to when they tell him to go on patrol. Seriously, it’s like they go on those everyday or something. That’s no way to live.

He’s out of camp right now on yet another one of these patrols, hanging back a little because the weather is nice and if he has to go trek through the forest everyday he doesn’t see why he should be in a hurry about it. He doesn’t know what qualifies as “on his own”, though, in regard to that “no cat alone” rule they have in place right now, so he’s considering hopping along a little faster to reach the main body of the patrol when he hears someone yelling.

He’s already moving to investigate before he remembers he’s not supposed to go off on his own, so he shouts to his patrol ”Hey! This way!” before turning towards the voice.

The cream cat standing on the other side of the scent line seems familiar. It takes Bunny a second to recognize him from the shelter, but he smiles widely when he finally remembers. He trots closer to the border to greet the other tom.

”Hey there! Markiplier, right? What are you doing here?”
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The dapple of sunlight through the pines was oftentimes a little distracting. Twitchbolt was not the scatterbrained sort, nor was he the type of cat to wander off during patrols; but he could not help drinking in every nook of is home, refreshing it in his mind to replace the blurry half-memories that had waded through his head in the Shelter. His stupor was broken by the shout of one of their new additions, a cat who had escaped with SkyClan; toward Bunny did he hurriedly trot, hearing the stranger's bold announcement.

He did recognise that voice- Bunny confirmed it, addressing him as Markiplier, and... though he would rather repress many of the events within that steel box, Twitchbolt allowed the jigsaw pieces to slot together. Markiplier, he'd- he'd been one of the cats who had escaped through being adopted. It was- odd to see him here, offering advice out of... perhaps, perhaps, the kindness of his heart.

"Our- our cats back...?" he asked, voice squeaking supersonic for a moment as it rose into a question. His throat was still, still sore. Did he mean- Sheepcurl and Grizzlyridge, or... had he not heard the news of the heist?
penned by pin ✧
 
The first cat who approaches is one who he actually knows, shockingly—a brown tabby with a light voice and a noticeable lack of one leg. "Bunny? Oh, hi, this is wild." His tan muzzle tugs into a smile, eyes light with recognition. Bunny had been in the shelter for a while, and he wonders how the other tom had gotten out. But… wait. He got out? Does that mean the rest of SkyClan got out? They had been talking about the rest of their clan coming for them. "I was trying to tell SkyClan where the shelter is, but… uh, I guess you made it out, at least. Did everyone get out?"

After a few moments another cat appears, and Markiplier recognizes him from the shelter as well. It’s funny, seeing both of them without bars across their faces. "Oh, Twitchchat, right?" He could never forget such an interesting name; it’s the same name that his owner calls their weird light-box. He enjoys the light-box especially when he gets to press his paws against the click-clack board. His owner often relocates him from the desk back to the floor when he plays with the board too much, but they’re always affectionate. He likes his new person, either way; they’re much more attentive than his old owner, and feed him on a more regular basis than the shelter people had.
[ space was so cool… ]
 

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"SkyClan!"

The shout startles the young warrior, and with his claws unsheathing, he looks to the border with wide eyes. Were they under attack? Had the twolegs set out more traps? His heart is pounding as he moves to the border, confusion arising as he only sees a single cat on the other side.

"I know how you can get your cats back!"

It's a dizzying declaration, one that causes Greeneyes to shift on his paws as he double-checks that the ground is beneath him. He doesn't know who this cat is, but he can only assume he's another newcomer, another among the caged cats that crowd SkyClan's camp. Why now, though? Why was this one so... delayed...?

"You're a little late," he says, crooked tail twitching behind him, sheathing his claws. He seems to realize it too, another dizzying statement brought forth - did everyone get out? Ears flatten at that, a gaze faltering. "Oh, uh --" Perhaps... Perhaps this one knows of what happened to Daisyflight. Perhaps he holds information about where Sheepcurl and Grizzlyridge are, too.

Part of him wants to ask, until he hears the new face call Twitchbolt by the wrong name. "Twitchchat," he repeats, viridescent gaze blinking at the pointed cat. How does one make such a mistake? How would a warrior even earn a name like that? He snorts, a glint in his eyes as he looks at Twitchbolt.

"Yeah, that's Twitchchat, alright."
 
Hey! This way, Bunny changes the course of the patrol and the lead warrior sails from the canopy and lands on the ground to peer where the former loner was heading. That’s when the voice of an unfamiliar rises.

Behind the patrol, slinks the dark coat of thorns and a pair of glinting metal eyes. Another stranger, this one calls them by clan name- insists they know a way to get their cats back. Thistleback picks up his pace, stirring the ferns with long thudding steps until he stands next to Greeneyes and Twitchbolt. " no. " he answers with a growl intended much more friendly, but his voice is hoarse.

" We got most of them out through a broken window. " he eyes the cream coated cat with a pensive stare. " Markiplier … would you come with us to answer some questions? No harm will come to you. " he offers, he needed to see if this cat knew of Grizzlyridge or Sheepcurl. Daisyflight, may she rest peacefully.


  • — you can post with markiplier wherever you like now fox! <3


  • MqZ0nzd.png

    forty EVENT TRACKER | IMPORTANT INFO
    — Lead warrior of Skyclan since 12.22.22
    Devoted to Deersong 9.29.22
    Father of Coyotepaw, Eveningpaw, Briarpaw, Damsel, Sunflowerpaw, and Rosepaw.
    — mentoring Snowpaw graduate(s) Quillstrike
    — very muscular piebald black and white tom with spiky fur and cold silver-grey eyes.
    voice & accent
    biography・゚✧
    OPEN for Dice battles | 🎲 stine#3004
  • bVBPWus.png

 
The next cat who joins them at the border is a stranger, surprisingly. Markiplier’s brows raise as the tom says that he’s late, which sounds a lot more ominous than it should. Isn’t it a good thing, if they already all managed to escape? But this cat looks downtrodden, and he wonders if they’d simply failed to get all of their clanmates out. His curiosity is answered quickly, delivered by probably the most scary-looking cat that Markiplier has ever seen.

The next cat to appear from the forest lumbers over, looking angry even before he speaks. His first word is spoken in a growl, as well, and the house cat has half a mind to turn and run away. He can handle pain, but he isn’t looking forward to being skinned alive or something by this feral cat. He’s broken a rib before and that was awful—what damage could this cat do to him, given the chance?

The black and white tom doesn’t attack him, though, only elaborates on the other SkyClan cats’ words. Most of them got out. Most. He replies earnestly, but the tom’s request hits him after a significant delay, processing only after he’s already begun speaking. "Well, that’s good to hear—oh, uhhhh, sure? Where are we going?" Still, he makes to step across the scent line, closer to the terrifying tom. This guy is definitely gonna kill me. I should go. Why did I come here again? He looks to Bunny, the most familiar of the faces here, searching for reassurance that the big, dark tomcat isn’t lying about that harm that won’t come to him.
[ space was so cool… ]
 
  • Haha
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The declaration of not-his-name sent his ears pinning against his skull in confusion. Without having known him for more than five minutes, Markiplier had already managed to frazzle the wires in Twitchbolt's brain, forcing him to reboot where he stood. Chat- where had he even got that from? Was it because he had been- been chittering away in the Shelter, whispering bitterly under his breath as if one word might bless the door to fling open by itself?

Greeneyes did not help- he shot his friend an incredulous glance, blinking rapidly in surprise. Calming upon seeing the glimmer of humour in his eyes, Twitchbolt's expression immediately collapsed into one of less-serious intent, rolling his eyes exaggeratedly. "Twitchbolt," he corrected, though there had manifested some flickering light of amusement in his gaze.

He shut up once Thistleback approached, inviting the tom to answer some questions. This was no savage murder-rogue. The hesitancy about Markiplier was impossible not to notice, and- well, Thistleback did not quite look like a fluffy bunny rabbit. He could not blame the pale tom. "You'll be alright," he murmured, keeping his tone as non-shrill and reassuring as he could manage, "He probably just wants a- a chat."

He spat the last word out like it was poisonous, irritated at himself for even uttering it.
penned by pin ✧
 
  • Haha
Reactions: ThistleBack
☁ ✧ ° .. ° ✧ ☁

The confusion over Twitchbolt’s name has Bunny smothering a giggle as Greeneyes poke fun at the bicolored cat, who only looks more frazzled than he already does as a result. That spark of laughter is quickly silenced when Thistleback catches up with them.

The sharp-edged warrior cuts an impressive figure, and Bunny has yet to shed his initial caution at the sight of such an obviously battle-hardened cat. He feels like a clumsy kittypet by comparison — which he is, but he’s not used to feeling quite so self-conscious about it. He’s a little gratified to see his concern reflected in Markiplier’s searching glance, and immediately goes to reassure the tom.

”Twitchbolt is right,” he meows, aiming an amused look at the jittery cat as he stresses the suffix. He continues, voice light, ”Thistleback isn’t a bad guy at all, and I don’t think Skyclan hurts loners at all. Plus, you get to see the camp! It’s great, just you wait.”

He hops closer to Markiplier, gesturing for him to come along already. ”It was really cool of you to come all this way to help, honestly..”
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