sensitive topics THEY'RE CARVING MY NAME [🌒] IN THE GRAVE AGAIN

[SOOTSTAR]

SOOTSTAR ♀​

[TW] Blood descriptors, pain descriptors. Open to WindClanner's on the battle patrol only Just outside of SkyClan's territory lays a body of blue. Her fur is drenched in crimson and blood continues to flow from her neck, pooling around her head. Eyes that once burned with rage and triumph now stared lost and confused into the distance. Any sign of life was gone, and for the clan-mates who trickled around their fallen leader it was a waiting game. Sootstar walks in a land of mist and shadows. This time instead of moggy, its cold to the bone. Her toes are numb and fog blows from her nose with each breath she makes. Even now she can taste the blood of her mouth, feel the pulsing of blood. It felt like claws were ripping into her throat, slowly but surely ripping open the wound powerful claws had slain her with. Without the adrenaline, the rush of battle, the pain was agonizing. Heartbeats felt like several minutes at a time, her teeth clench and she is certain they would crack and break at the pressure of her jaw. At first, she had thought it was the sound of distant wind, but the passage of time made it grow louder and louder. A voice, no- voices... she tries to recognize them, put names to them, but they all overlapped each other making it impossible to untangle one from the other. Furious she growls and cranes her head to try and find someone- anyone, but all she gets is a bolt of agony as her neck wound feels as if it was continuing to rip. All around her they taunt her with nonsense she cannot put together. "Left behind..." "Blacken a forest..." "Blow away..." "The wind..." "Once pure..." "Fire!" "Fire?!" She yelps, eyes opening. Back among the living with a lightly sealed wound and the gaze of her clan-mates locking onto her. Sootstar barely understands that she had shouted her confusion out loud, the scent of rot still stings in her nose.

 

[cygnetstare]

♱—— As she has for the length of this seemingly endless trek and as she will until they reach camp, Cygnetstare is half-clinging, half-leaning onto whichever Clanmate is closest and will allow her to. They are not yet fully in the throes of blood loss and exhaustion and their awareness of the world is not quite yet as dim as it will be upon their true "triumphant" return from this battle. She and the other members of their battle party stand in an odd formation around the still-warm body of Sootstar, laying in a slowly-spreading pool of blood from a neck wound not unlike their own, although much more fatal. Faintly they're aware Sootstar will get back up eventually, weakened by her injuries but alive by the blessings of StarClan, but for now they simply stand, swaying unconsciously on their paws, and wait.

The blue she-cat comes alive as one might expect her to—not in a slight jerk and a brightening of eyes dulled by death, but all at once, like a forest set suddenly ablaze. Her freshly-knit throat yields a yelp as green eyes shoot open; Fire?! Cygnetstare's consciousness is somewhat dimmed, though not put out entirely, and they're not sure what she means at all. Pain-blurred viscera eyes settle on the freshly reanimated leader with a kind of dull wonder, barely managing to add in a voice raspy with pain and perhaps made blunt by a foggy head, "Fire? The 'ell does that mean?"

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┏━⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊ OOC ☽ ◯ ☾ INFORMATION₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆━━━━━┓ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ☄. *. ⋆♱･ﾟ:

• ooc: local woman extremely confused
  

• 

• ♱ cygnetstare — for their downy kitten-fur and perceptiveness (or uncanny gaze) she/they ; afab gender apathetic — windclan — tunneler — 16 ☾s —— cygnetstare is a corpselike chimera, split between long albino fur and a short black smoke pelt; their eyes are an unsettling pink. her creepy demeanour distracts from a strange fascination with death and an obsessive loyalty to windclan. —— smells like grave-dirt and blood ; sounds like vc tbd ; speech in #BF959C, thoughts in #000000 —— peaceful / healing powerplay permitted ; attacks/contact in underline ; will start fights ; won't flee unless ordered ; won't show mercy ; will kill or maim —— pansexual panromantic monogamist, single, not looking ; open to friendships, enemies, casual interactions, long-term romance, plotting ; not open to unplanned battles, flings penned by dejavu— desklamp9 on discord for plots

• CYGNETSTARE's BATTLE INFO ——♱
  

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  YES: injuries, scarring
  ASK: maiming, permanent injuries
  NO: killing

  — Small and skinny, hiding sinewy muscle in forelegs and chest from digging. Skilled offensive fighter but limited by size, defense is basically nonexistent; snakelike agility fighter, faster than she looks and slippery. Will try to climb on and move around larger opponents to inflict damage. Extremely brutal despite her size and will always aim to inflict maximum damage; lacks honor and will fight dirty. Battle moves often damage herself as much as her opponent.
  

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  — Will fight to kill and maim. Will start fights. Will not run unless ordered to. Will aim to kill and maim cats regardless of age or rank, including young cats.
  

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  — Her battles will be written very aggressively and she will always aim to kill or seriously injure opponents; this does not mean her hits have to land! I don't mind your character dodging hits; feel free to contact me on-site or on Discord to work out specifics if needed. Will have a harder time against larger cats but keep in mind she is written as a good offensive fighter who aims to kill and/or seriously hurt. I'm not open to her being killed but am willing to discuss maimings (please ask me first though).
  

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  — Their defensive fighting skills are borderline nonexistent. All hits will land except attempts at killing or maiming that haven't been prediscussed. I don't roll for attacks or defense but try to write battles realistically.
  

  current health info:
  physical health:

  35%

  ↳ current injuries: bruised chest & shoulder, bruised ribs, claw marks on torso, very severe but nonfatal throat wound

​

 

[BLUEFROST]

Bluepaw watches Sootstar stumble and fall, her lips pressed together in a grim line. Anguish begins to bubble hot in her belly, but she cannot identify the emotion—it’s devastating, fierce, and it threatens to break her composure altogether. The tiny gray she-cat sits beside her mother’s convulsing body until it stills, and her eyes burn with unshed tears. She knows when the movement ceases that Sootstar is gone, and she does not know what is meant to happen next—she knows her mother will rise again, but how long does it take?

She searches for Scorchstreak, for Cygnetstare, but she cannot make out either body in the darkness and the veil of tears she sees the world through. “Someone… help her… help your leader!” It’s a command, given in a childish re-enactment of her mother’s fierce, domineering tone, but there is nothing any of them can do. In the back of her mind, Bluepaw knows even a medicine cat cannot help her now. She sinks her claws into the earth, feeling the wind comb through her thick fur and caress the stinging, crusted ear she wears marked.

Bluepaw bows her head, unwilling to devolve into hysterics. Unable to. Sootstar would not have done it—her mother is so often poised and well-kept, even in the depths of her wrath. She will not break. She will not.

A glazed green eye sharpens, the dimmed light chased away with a sudden burst of life. Sootstar shakes awake, gasping, her jaws opening with a shriek: “Fire?!” Bluepaw’s head jerks upright, emerald eyes dry as bone now but filled with confusion and misery. Cygnetstare asks, bluntly, what Sootstar is talking about—and Bluepaw’s ears lower, flattening against her skull. “Are you alright, Sootstar? Do you need help up?” The wound is sealed—but it is not healed entirely, still raw, and the silvery fur maned about her neck is stained still with her blood. “Let me assist you.” She goes to Sootstar, offering her small, fragile flank for assistance.

✧ INFO.

•  
• 
  — bluekit . bluepaw
  — she/her, apprentice of windclan
  — bisexual ; single
  — long-haired blue she-cat with white and green eyes
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — penned by Marquette
  — art by Meg

​

 

[RATTLEHEART]

Rattleheart's heavy gasps were still trembling as they followed after the rest of the retreating battle party, droplets of blood staining the ground after dropping down from their injured jaw and shoulder. They're so focused on their own pain that they don't even notice the faltering health of Sootstar ahead of them, up until their leader collides with the ground without a sound. The stench of blood was so much stronger than it had seemed just a moment before, and the tunneler can't help but recoil, staring at Sootstar's prone form and the panicking from Bluepaw standing nearby. Their voice is so soft when they speak up, head shaking from side to side, "We... we can't do anything for her, Bluepaw. We just have to wait." It's a strained admission, one that makes their chest ache. In spite of their own faith in Starclan, they had to admit it was difficult to accept that all they could do was stand and wait to see when Windclan's leader would be returned to them.

At least it's not too long until she does return, even if he's sure every second stretching on must have felt like an eternity to poor Bluepaw. When she jerks back to life, though, her exclamation does nothing but rouse confusion from an exhausted Rattleheart - who can't help but echo Cygnetstare. "What does that mean...? There's no fire, Sootstar. Just us." Just all of them, still only just outside of Skyclan's territory. They doubted Skyclan would send any of their already injured warriors out after them, but there was still anxiety clawing its way up his back, sinking down into his spine. They needed to get back to camp, where their wounds could be treated and they'd be safe from any prying eyes or razor sharp claws. Where he could rest.

Taking a step towards the path back to Windclan, Rattleheart stayed near the edge of the group just to wait for Sootstar to get to her paws once more. "Once you can walk again we should keep heading towards home, just to make sure the Skyclanners don't try and take another life from you." It's blunt, and a surprising statement from the tunneler, who would usually join the others in hyping Sootstar up and acting like she was invincible. However, even she had to accept that she was weakened from her recent death and revival, didn't she?
​

[ PENNED BY EO ]​

 

[GHOSTWAIL]

The others are confused, foolishly. Fire, Sootstar yells, fire. To them, it is delusion, to the sightless masses, it is nonsense, but to the phantom, it is crystal clear. The phoenix queen has risen again, blessed by StarClan for taking the life of the pretender - the kittypet king playing at leadership. He fell tonight to her sovereign's claws and his life has been exchanged for her leader's own. Immortality was her throne, crowned by the heavens, her head ringed with godsblood, clearly. StarClan must have given her a vision of herself, a fiery deity among rabble, a flaming beacon of hope in the forest. There is a twinge of jealousy in her burning eyes, how sweet it would be to see her queen burn down the forest's collection of peasants and rags.

With the phoenix queen alive again, the phantom settles her burning gaze on the nebulous distance, the road back to the moorland one that would be paved in blood. The entire patrol was littered with fresh wounds, herself included. Crimson soaked one side of her face, she could feel it, and her dingy pelt felt caked and dirtier than usual. She refuses to acknowledge the wounds. She refuses to acknowledge that she was caught off guard by a kitty-pet, a jangling kitty-pet with a Twoleg's claim around its throat.

Yet still, when she goes to take a step towards home, she stumbles, her vision finally blurring due to the pain. Dogs.... all of them...​

- you call for peace when it suits you​

 

[SOOTSTAR]

SOOTSTAR ♀​

Confused pink eyes are the first pair she notices. Cygentstare… Then a pretty green, Bluepaw. Wordlessly she takes her daughter’s aid, with a grunt she rises onto her limbs while using Bluepaw’s shoulder. She groans and her legs tremble beneath her weight, but she finds balance soon enough. Rattleheart is the first cat whose words truly get through to her echoing mind. There’s no fire, Sootstar. Just us. Her eyes blink, ”No… of course not.” What had she all said out loud…? How does she ask without giving too much away? Rattleheart suggests they get going as soon as she has her footing, anxiety eating at their chest that SkyClan may come running. Sootstar had forgotten she had ended up falling right outside their territory, the trek home was still long and daunting. ”Okay,” She agrees easily. It was unlike her, but it was visible she was still pulling her mind out of the fog that came with slumber… Though slow and wobbly at first she begins to lead her clan home, with each step she took she found herself again. For better or for worse.