pafp THE PHILISTINE | bitch-off of the century

[CHRYSALISWING]

Warriorhood lie just at the tip of impatient claws, just upon the coattails of the next dawn. Every day was but another countdown and another tick to remark against the rest of the monotonous days that ambled by. Chrysalispaw found his imagination drifting off to what his warrior name would be... The tom hoped it was something badass, or at least cool-sounding. Call him sophomoric or selfish, but he didn't work his ass off just to earn some generic or unthreatening moniker. Besides, Chrys could hardly wait until he moved out of that cramped apprentice's den, as if the bodies had become less of his clanmates and more of a suffocating smoke that withered at his freewill. Not that the warriors' den would be any better, especially with those bumbling kittypets that happened to wash up all at once. Seriously, did they all have to join Skyclan? Why can't we give some of them up to the other clans? I'm sure those mange-ridden cats need them anyhow.

The chimaera stalked around the camp as he minded his own business, fleeting glances never remaining on any clanmate that passed by him, as though his eyes held the temperament of the fluttering butterfly. Though, he quickly realized that a set of eyes had trained on his sable-and-flame pelt, like a bird that surely laughed from its bough atop the tree trunk, a mocking sort of sun from behind the mountain's veil. He stopped in his tracks to stare at a black and white feline, sitting just a fox-length away from him. Well, he couldn't tell if she was looking right at him, but it was his general direction. To him, that was reason enough. "You got a staring problem or something?" An acerbic tongue spat out its usual drivel, for the serpent knew only how to bite with its fangs, and never to parlay with its mouth. He sauntered up to Spiderpaw, raising one eyebrow in an almost curious glare. He didn't recognize her or care enough to do so, though she seemed to be much smaller than him. Instinctively, he puffed up his own feathery pelt.

@spiderpaw
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[spiderpaw ✧]

The eyes of the gossip cast far; Spiderpaw was (kind of) trying to break her other worse habits, but she was pretty sure she'd never shake that particular one. Besides, gossip entertained her, and it had been a rough day; her paws were sore, fur tangled, and her pale gaze irritated as it bounced from Clanmate to Clanmate, fixing on a particular chimera pelt. That pelt had been the subject of some discussion overheard occasionally by Spiderpaw; the everyday drivel about how rude he was sure, but some recent events with Bananasplash and Quillstrike (poor Pigeonsong, she reflects, shocked at the thought) had brought the black-and-ginger cat up in conversation.

""You got a staring problem or something?""

Spiderpaw's narrow gaze twisted closer to the swaggering beast as it approached her, massive tail wrapping itself neatly about her oversized paws; he was taller than her, fur puffed up, not something the lanky apprentice often saw. Then again, apparently her was almost a warrior, so much older than her—Spiderpaw's smoky pelt was too heavy to puff up, but she dropped her lids and let a narrowed acid gaze do the work. What a cat to approach her on such a terrible day, she thought wryly; he was practically asking to be insulted, with all the swirling gossip and rude words. She wouldn't be breaking her promise (one she sometimes thinks was made in a moment of weakness) this way, right? She was just defending herself against a mean cat, one whose venom tone at the very least deserved an insult.


"Wow, do you kiss Bananasplash with that mouth? Or not, I guess," The smoky cat hissed, maw in a cruel twist and eyes curving with malicious glee; it felt so hemorrhagically good to tear into another cat, lay her frustrations thick upon him. She was a gossip after all; word of Chrysalispaw storming out after Bananasplash made her announcement had made its way along the grapevine to Spiderpaw. Her head tilts high, tone cool and glimmering; Pigeonsong would hate the words she speaks next, but it simply feels too good to give in to her whispering thoughts and let stupid Chrysalispaw have it, "I really wonder what she has going for her that so many cats are all bitched out because Bananasplash finally got a boyfriend?"
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[TWITCHBOLT]

A flick of the ear- and then another, another- gave away Twitchbolt's slumbering distress. He huddled alone with a meal when the spat split between two apprentices nearby, acidic and hissed, easily-heard. At first it had simply been awkwardness that had burned beneath his mahogany fur, distress that he was overhearing something that he likely was not meant to be privy to. His jaw locked in an iron grip- he was no mentor to these apprentices, but perhaps it would be a good idea to keep an eye on them... he had authority now to wrench them apart if any claws came flying out. Not- not that he expected it, particularly...

It was Spiderpaw's words that turned his idle awkwardness into noticeable irritation. Speak about Bananasplash and Quillstrike; as if everything in his life had to swirl around that. Foul tasting bitterness on his tongue, barely the fault of anyone involved, but... it seemed targeted! Like some- some karma had finally sought him out for some long-forgotten transgression and was stalking him, relentlessly reminding him of the very thing he was trying to forget. How was he ever supposed to get over him- get over it- if no one would ever shut up about it!

His jittering became more violent, more noticeable- his crooked tail lashed, striking something invisible. Copper flowed spread through his mouth as his fangs pierced his tongue.​

penned by pin ✧​

 

[Dogskip]

Wobbledog wasn't one to get involved in the drama of other cats. He often stood or sat and stared off in the distance trying to come to terms with all that had happened recently, as well as things before the shelter. It was a lot, and he was trying to give himself time to accept everything. To catch up to the present.

He was currently sitting in the clearing doing just this when the argument broke out. It caught him by surprise, he couldn't stop his ears from swiveling upright. He glanced in Chrysalispaw and Spiderpaw's direction.

This was about to get so spicy. He could tell. He knew it wasn't his business...And yet, he didn't move. He would surely draw attention to himself if he did... And part of him wanted to eavesdrop anyways. He placed a paw over his mouth over what was said. This was going to get spicy INDEED.​

 

[CHRYSALISWING]

Spiderpaw's maw curled in vulturine mirth, as though she were an umbral predator waiting for the perfect moment, a pocket of night casting a deathly impression upon him. Chrysalispaw didn't know Spiderpaw, though he did know that gossip tended to flow from her tangled tongue like flumes of foretalk. Always the scavenger, subsisting off of the leftovers of whispers of sore spots. How contemptible, he thought. The mere mention of Bananasplash made Chrysalispaw's hackles stand up in the manner of a cornered beast, and though the man tried not to show it, perhaps the predator had met its prey. How had she even found out about him and Banana? Who would have cared enough to tell her about that? Dartlike glances pierced through Twitchbolt and Wobbledog, who were misfortunate enough to be in his vicinity, as though his eyes were needles piercing the flesh and sorting for the truth. Was it you? Or you?

His gaze returned to Spiderpaw now, heterochromatic eyes beset in a boiling ire.

"Don't bring her name up when you know she's not relevant." Came a terrible hiss from Chrys' acerbic tongue, a sulphurous sort of timbre to his tempo, though it was nothing unusual for him. For the boy who spat hellfire, his mouth had already calloused and his tongue had already hardened. Who did Spiderpaw think she was - a mere child compared to him, an impudent speck who merely stood in his path? Who was she to judge him when she didn't even belong here? "By the way, how's that mother you haven't seen since she dumped your ungrateful ass on the side of the border? I'm sure she was on your mind when you had that little breakdown in the apprentice's den. No wonder you turned out the way you did - I would too if I didn't get any loves from my parents. I'm sure that's more relevant than Bananasplash." Dark shadows seemed to thicken upon his feathery pelt as he spoke his usual poison. It was a poison he knew very well.

( Retro to warriorhood )
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[spiderpaw ✧]

Spiderpaw waits, her mouth curled in a contemptuous smile, that old high leaping through her veins; her eyes glimmer with short-lived malevolent glee like false diamonds, always found out in the end. She's surprised she's yet to tangle with this particular cat, famous for his own venomous tongue; Spiderpaw's own mouth seems to enjoy lunging about like an untamed horse, always ready to veer off the path and sometimes directly off a cliff; a wild mustang of a personality, always pulling the reins as far as they'll go. Chrysalispaw's bicolor gaze is back on her now, flames leaping like a devil's brew in them; and it's as if she knos what's coming before she hears it, knows this will sting.

Tangled serpents fall forth from his cruel tongue, wriggling and pushing towards her with their rotten fangs bared; Chrysalispaw's words cut deep, but Spiderpaw tries to steel herself. She's not going to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. Clearly she's not the only gossip in camp, though, these rawest things pulling at her flesh like teeth, her pale eyes wide and furious: so Npcpaw had said something. That little rat-muncher was going to get it later, she didn't care what it took, but that was for later, this is now. Spiderpaw's eyes are pale chips of glacial ice, her wild mouth snapping open untamed again, "I'm the one bringing up irrelevant things? Right, sure, because things that happened moons ago are clearly sooo much more pertinent right now. I'd say the whole ... Bananasplash issue ... is very relevant, given that eeeeeveryone," she singsongs this last in a cruel patronizing tone, "has had something to say about that lately. Not that it's really a surprise, is it? Everyone knows nobody could ever love you."
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// sorry this is so late lmao

 

[SLATE]

❪ TAGS ❫ — Slate was no stranger to the art of arguing. He could raise his voice and lash out at another cat with the whip of his sharp tongue in mere seconds—effortlessly, at that. He was not one to talk when it came to controlling one's temper when he had nearly gotten into a physical scrap with Silversmoke a few moons ago. The two had not bickered since, seeming to have left everything that occurred before his twoleg abduction in the past... at least for now. Therefore, Slate hadn't much to bicker about these days.

He angled a shredded ear, hearing a rather noisy exchange heating up between Chrysalispaw and Spiderpaw. The two apprentices were sharp-tongued and utterly mousebrained, and while he couldn't claim that this situation wasn't entertaining in the slightest, it was disruptive of everything around them. Slate was tired of hearing them fling insults at one another for petty reasons, so the warrior would snort, "Would you two knock it off already? You're worse than a couple of elders nagging at each other."​

 

[BLAZESTAR]

Blazestar is not opposed to Clanmates having minor disagreements with one another—it’s feline nature, after all, and he can hardly expect everyone in SkyClan to be close. But the venom spewing from Chrysalispaw and Spiderpaw’s mouths has him losing his patience. The Ragdoll pads behind Slate, who tells them to knock it off. The SkyClan leader’s eyes are cool, but his tone is near-frosty. “I will hear no more of this. You are both too close to warriorhood to be squabbling like angry kits.” He twitches his tail. “Warriors rely on one another in battle and during hunts. We thrive together, or we wither alone. Your Clan comes before any petty grievances. I’ll not hear another word.”

He exhales, pale ginger ears flicking irately. “The two of you will spend the rest of today helping the queens together. If one of them reports any arguing to me, you’ll be doing it for the rest of the moon, and there will be no warrior ceremony.” He makes a note to ask Silversmoke and Pigeonsong about this disagreement—is there some rivalry spanning between the two of them he doesn’t know about? “Now disperse, please.”
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[ PENNED BY MARQUETTE ]​

 

[spiderpaw ✧]

The voice of Slate is a minor annoyance; the voice of Blazestar is as though someone dumped cold water over Spiderpaw's thick pelt. It's perhaps a stinging reminder that she was supposed to be above acting this way now; perhaps his chilly tone is a memory of Pigeonsong's moons of disappointment that cuts too close to the bone. Either way, the smoky apprentice seems to deflate and she's reminded of exactly how momentary a high cruelty is; a fool's gold of joy.

All that's left behind is the dregs of her words waiting in Chrysalispaw's venomous face and the disapproving tone of their Clan leader. "Fine," The apprentice mutters. She seems to have lost any fire once the flame point had chastised the pair, and Spiderpaw simply turns tail and heads for the nursery without waiting for Chrysalispaw's response to get them in more trouble.
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// late reply but out!! :D