camp THE GLASS MENAGERIE \ confrontation

[TWITCHBOLT]

Errands, errands. Always run out of loyalty and routine, with perhaps a peppering of love on the side.What love he had left, at least, if it was love that he felt. This strange relationship, where everyone told him he owed them naught, everyone told him they shouldn't be doing this, and yet- and yet... excuses flooded from his maw. For them or himself, he did not know. Birds on his mind, birds in his brain... tirelessly, he brought them what they wished despite the doubt. Despite the ungratefulness. He'd learned to live with the side-glance, the flicker of attention and nothing more.

In his jaws he held a mouse- and of course it was not for him. For them, their lunch, and not what they wanted, never what they wanted- but birds were hard to come by. Preoccupation kept them tethered, though- caught Twitchpaw's steps, hitched his trot to a stroll. Mother and father both, sat side-by side... the former rapt in conversing with a queen. Ears angled to the conversation- a gift in tracking had helped him tune in.

"It's not that hard," his mother chimed, her voice airy as archangel's wings. As always. That sweet tone of hers, it never changed, never... "And you don't have to do it right away! We waited- dear, how long was it?"

"Three moons, about."

"Yes, three moons, about! Before we named Twitchkit. The inspiration took those moons to strike us!"

Mentioned by almost-name- almost- Twitchpaw felt his form shiver for a moment. Unconscious namesake- and he had not noticed when it was that he had stopped walking toward them. How long had he been stood here, plain in daylight, still unnoticed?

"But- oh, when it did! We realised we hadn't named him when all these 'kit' names got into fashion, and- well, have you seen him? Funny little thing!" And, to punctuate her harmonic insult, she- she mimicked him. Giggled after she did it. Seized herself voluntarily, kept doing it, an impression, laughing all the while. Beneath his flesh Twitchpaw felt a river of ice replace his blood, felt his face flush all the same.

Laughed. Then stopped, like it had been nothing. Continued telling the story clinically, as if she hadn't just- as if his father had not just stared past, away in his own ridiculous worlds, dreaming of and seeing nothing but Tidespin, not him, never him-

"He'd always done that. So Twitchkit it was, do you see?" Laughed again, gentle symphony, poisonous and rotten to the core. Bile in her smile, he wanted to spit acid at her, watch her melt before him, but then- would fire fight fire? Could poison succumb to its own touch?

Fire it was, then. A flare of anger seized his foot forward, rowdy step- and the scruff of a tom wasted not a moment in erupting. That magma had been beneath his skin for a long, long time- now bubbled, rose, flowing from his nose and eyes and lips, burning them alive, scorching his parents with their own creation. "Funny? Oh, it’s funny? You- you gave me my name because you thought it would be funny?" Fevered breath heaved through his lungs, ached his ribs. But he didn't care, let the flames consume him- and hopefully the'd spread far enough to consume them too. Turn them to ash before him, he didn't care- didn't care about the eyes, didn't care about the damage. "You don’t care about me! You only care what I do, and you only care when it’s useful. You never listen to me- you don’t even care enough to remember my fucking name! It’s Twitchpaw, not Twitchkit, and it has been for MOONS!"

Bellow from his gut, a rib-shattering shout, he froze them in stasis. His mother stared, stared like she never had before- his father, too. Looked and looked and looked, and how sad it was that he would bet this was the most they had ever looked at him.

The flame would not die. "Well I’m- I’m done! I’m sick of you! I’m sick of 'repaying’ you for being born! You can catch your own fucking food, make your own nests, I’m DONE!"

Never had Twitchpaw had a flare for the dramatics, but away he turned, uncaring of the scene he just caused. Smoke billowed from him in sooty, ebony plumes, pluming murky aura in the aftermath of his rage. Down did he settle with his mouse, his own, that he had caught. It was a wonder he did not bite his own tongue off in his fervour, back turned to the eyes of his parents which still likely burned holes through his flesh. No longer did he care whether they watched. ​

penned by pin ✧​

 

[MUSHROOMPAW]

---

---

Its hard, not to hear Twitchpaw's parents every day, its especially hard today as they sit outside the nursery with one of the queens.

She doesn't fully understand why Twitchpaw's mother makes it feel like there's ants under her skin. Doesn't understand why when she talks about her son in that magnolia may voice, she feels disgusted with the older molly. Its so caring, so loving sounding and yet hearing it makes it feel like Mushroomkit's swallowed the riverbed. She never speaks up about it due to her lack of understanding, but she saw the way her grandfather bristled when those two got talking, about the apprentice. Yet he never speaks up either, tells her it isn't his place to fight Twitchpaw's battles for him, only support him in those he chooses to fight.

But Morningbird isn't here to hear the way Twitchpaw spits moons of seething hot rage at his parents, at the cats who should be family but never act like it. He's healing in the medicine den, barely able to shift enough to take a bath. Mushie is here though, and she listens.

She listens and Twitchpaw makes her understand. His mother spoke with a loving tone, but never with love itself, his father spoke in the same way one might about a routine accomplishment. They did not actually care, and the only thing she can vaguely equate it to herself, is the bullying she experienced not long ago, and she knows thats not quite right. Its not even close, but its as close as she, in all her privileged love, can get to try and feel a drop in the river of all he must be feeling. So when he snatches up his mouse and leaves the conversation, she skitters on after him, reaches out to offer comfort only to remember that maybe it wasn't the best idea. So instead she crouches down, small and harmless, folding her paws under her. "I don't want to ask if you're okay...'cause I don't think that's the right thing to ask even if its normal, but um...its really cool that you were able to stand up to them like that." Its not comfort, but she is a child, and she knows no better. ​

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ALL I CAN DO IS DREAM ─

─ FOR I AM SO, SO TIRED.

 

[QUILLSTRIKE]

CUZ I DONT REALLY LIKE ANYBODY​

---

Quillpaw understood a desire for approval. Long ago, when he was just a small kit, he'd craved it as well from his parents. And to be fair, his mother had done her best. She tried to be gentle with him, tried to reassure him with kind words and soft looks, but they were all tainted. Her gentle touches came from a body stiff with tension, he kind words spoken soft looks marred by the tightness of her smile and the nervous shifting of her eyes.

Quill hadn't been the only one living in hell.

As for his father, well, there'd never been any pleasing him. Quill could still remember the sense of hollow disappointment that swept over him each time the tom had blatantly ignored him or told him to fuck off whenever Quill had tried to show him something he thought would finally win the others approval. To think he'd ever been that naïve was embarrassing, but kits were stupid and he told himself it was normal because it was normal. Kids were supposed to want their parents approval, their affection. And parents were supposed to want to give it.

Somehow though, Quills parents and Twitchs parents seemed to have missed that memo.

The chimera watched from a distance.

The sound of Twitch shouting at someone had quickly earned the tomcats attention, mismatched eyes seeking them out and spotting tangle fur easily. Normally the tabby tried to keep himself away from drama that he wasn't forced to get involved with, but there would always be exceptions and Twitch seemed to fit that bill time and time again. He still couldn't say why, didn't know if there was something specific about the strange apprentice that they liked or if it was some strange sense of kinship that formed through their mutual parental and social issues, but whatever the cause may be, it didn't change the fact that Quill had an unashamed soft spot for Twitchpaw.

And so he watched, listened, observed, torn between feeling pride for his friend at finally giving their mom and dad a piece of their mind, and worrying about the potential outcome of it. He knew that the two cats weren't like his own parents, that the kind of neglect they practiced didn't involve brute force, cruel worlds, or tension so heavy it could break a cats spine, but still, he watched. Just in case.

When it was over and at last Twitchpaw was storming off to settle and eat the mouse, the chimera finally moved.

He was silent as he took a seat beside them, slipping into the empty spot with a nonchallance that suggested he was familiar and comofrtable with the action, which he was. And if he sat a little closer than he usually would so that their pelts were just barely brushing, that was nobodys business.

"I've been waiting for you to do that for ages." he admitted, and if Twitch was listening for it he'd catch the hint of pride that accompanied the subtle upturn of the tabbys lips. Just as quickly as it appeared though, it was gone. "Sorry you had to do it, though." he added after a second, a frown settling in it's place as his brows pinched together in thought. He was glad his friend had finally stood up for himself, but at the same time, it was still shitty.

Twitchpaw never bothered anyone. He always did his best and, from what Quill had seen, was just trying to live his fucking life. The least his parents could do was act like they gave a damn.
​

---

skyclan - male - 10 months - bisexual - homoromantic - single - very tall tabby tomcat with broad shoulders

 

[Daisyflight]

"SUREFIRE, YEAH, THE SETTING SUN WANTS COMPANY"​

A well-groomed puddle of fur, Daisyflight napped in the meagre rays of sun near the camp’s entrance. Her wound pinned her behind their fern-pressed walls, unable to accompany her apprentice on his hunt. So, she weathered the time away resting until she could watch over his yield and feedback accordingly.

Bleary, it took the calico a moment to catch sight of Twitchpaw as he entered. It was not hard to task to track him however, as he beat down the same path to his parents as he always did. Mismatched ears quickly parsed the ensuing interaction, its contents profoundly disturbing. Drones of names, twitching- it wrenched her up in a half-breath.

She had had enough of the weak-spined, twittering pair. Ravens. A hiss wove bitterly through her, whiskers from being loosed when Twitchpaw split the air asunder. He fought- word, syllable and tone all fledgling blades- for himself. Surprise tempered her fury into a sweltering sense of pride.

This was a fork in the trail, and that knowledge printed a satisfied smile eagerly along her maw. Mirroring Mushroomkit, who spoke ever so kindly, and Quillpaw, she wrangled her aching limbs to sit alongside him as well- patchwork form deliberately stitched between her apprentice and his parents. Together they formed a wreath of support, unyielding. A slow nod paralleled the other's words, punching in their sentiments. Hopefully, he was in a place to listen.

“A fine catch” She praised, eyes aglimmer with meaning much deeper. “I’m proud of you, Twitchpaw.” Family was a dye that could tout safety, acceptance, or bleed wickedly into a cat’s conscience. Daisyflight knew well enough the hardship it could bring and was glad that the tom was beginning to shed the shades that cloaked him. ​

✿ ✿ ✿​

 

[TWITCHBOLT]

Foolish it had been to assume no crowd would be pulled toward him, not after that display. At first he bristled at the sounds of approach, expecting spitting sounds of sizzling scorn, but- all he received in turn was words of kindness. Congratulations. The flooding of pride washed over him, seeped in beneath his skin like water through paper. Along his spine the brambles of his brown-and-white pelt settled, eyes that before burned with amber flame and acidic corrosion settling to tranquil-if-wide meadows once again. His pupils swept over those who surrounded him- Mushroomkit, a friend. Quillpaw, another friend. Daisyflight, mentor and- perhaps friend too, if he would dare to say so.

Though the pupils of his parents still burned a smoking hole in his back, he cast away the inferno upon his flesh and set kind vision upon those who had approach. Despite the magma that flowed from him, they had braved the swelter to approach him- to offer him kindness. Cautiously, a smile wobbled upon his lips, reluctant in its approach and yet- there. Curving the moon-wide expanse of his gaze, his grin showed the tiniest flash of teeth. "Thanks," he murmured, making sure to look at each of them individually for a few moments.

It's cool you were able to stand up to them like that. Earned a glance, a gleam of the eyes. The closeness of her form- the distance, too. The words- he appreciated it, genuinely. And then Quillpaw, a whisker away, pelt maybe-touching; I've been waiting for you to do that for ages. And then he said sorry, even though he'd done nothing wrong. Was that care, then? Was that the attention he had been wanting?

I’m proud of you, Twitchpaw. There- that was it, too. That nice kind of burning, embarrassment and warmth, praise that made the tips of his ears dance with candle-flame. No fury lived in that heat. His grin, it remained, as he thought on and appreciated all of their words. And that he voiced, nudging his mouse toward Mushroomkit, inclined to share all of a sudden. "I- I really appreciate it." Pupils upon Quillpaw, then- Daisyflight. He did not need his observers anymore. ​

penned by pin ✧​