what a show | stuck

[FINCHTHISTLE]

The scrapping of his head against the ground is jarring. Well, not exactly his head but the clear container around it is a horrible noise. For a while he has been trying to get the thing off of his skull and evading twolegs that keep on chasing after him and trying to grab him up. Sure he has lived on the streets and once made friends with some but he doesn't trust them. Besides he can get out of this issue on his own. Maybe. Really it all started when he smelled something so enticing, so sweet and salty. It coaxed him and like a hyper active kit he followed the beckoning scent straight to a jar that was partially filled with remnants of peanut butter. The delectable feast was so good, and he made sure to get every scrap he could find against those clear walls. But then he realized the buffet became his prison. It took some time for him to be alone long enough to try and drag the thing off. But the scrapping is driving him mad. It's horrid the sound and soon he stops.

He tries to keep calm as he starts to head back to the forest he calls home, walking almost sideways because of his distorted vision and how heavy his head now is. With a huff he totters and almost tips against a tree, knocking his head and suddenly he falls against the ground. "Help! It's slowly devouring me!" He calls out in the hopes that someone hears his muffled voice. It takes a moment before he pushes himself to his paws before he waddles his way forward.​

 

[TWITCHBOLT]

It was a horrible sound, that hollow knock- like bone, raw and uncovered, striking the side of a tree. It was a sickening noise- and, hearing the call for help, nausea presented itself in Twitchpaw's gut near-immediately. What, exhibiting that terrible noise, would be shouting for help? Whom? Taken aback by his own movements, his bravery in approach, the bicolour apprentice made his way forward on tremulous limbs, ears perked at the noise, breaking away from the patrol that he and his mentor were on. A kinked tail made a slight movement, a beckon, but no words fell from his maw in fear that they would hitch in apprehension.

Skittles- that was his name, right, sandy-pelted? And- his head? It was compressed, clasped in a transparent grip of a thing he had never seen, horrifying and constrictive! That claustrophobia- he felt it crawling beneath his skin, bugs itching his bones! "I'm- oh my god, what is that!?" The initial worry fled from his maw recklessly, unrestrained before the rational part of his brain began to kick in. "You- uh, stay, stay still. I can- I can help pull it off." His reassurance was unreliable given in such a quavering tone, but there was nothing stopping him from trying- and hoping that someone else might come to aid, as well.

/ @Daisyflight for mentor stuff but no pressure B) ​

penned by pin ✧​

 

[BEARHEART]

(

) "Oh? Looks like someone fell for a tasty trap. Heh! Been there myself, mate." Totoro snorted with laughter as he wandered onto the scene, his head cocked to the side with a look of amused sympathy. Such things weren't easy to remove though, so he had his doubts about Twitchpaw's level of success. If twolegs could struggle with removing jars from cats then what chance did they have? "Hold up Twitchy, don't go pulling it yet. I need ya to lick around Skittles' neck, get it nice and wet." He recalled how he had been smeared with something wet when he had been stuck as a little kit. Hair conditioner, not that he knew that, but he remembered that it had been wet! So that was the key, right? ​

 

[Daisyflight]

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

There were times when Daisyflight was grateful to be deputy. Handing out patrols, working closely with Blazestar, watching over training sessions- every moon she grew a greater appreciation for the role. Today however, with Skittles' head jammed into a glassy cage, she was not.

It looked vile, a bitty, dust-apricot mulch stuck to the birch feline. An odd salted aroma wrinkled her face, whiskers wilting to press against her cheeks in an immediate show of aversion. The calico remained planted behind her oak-stripe apprentice for much of the interaction, simply floored to have been put in such a situation. It was not so, specifically, in her job description but assistance was expected, wasn't it? I don't want to... Daisyflight whined within herself.

At the mention of licking- vile! - she started, coming to. "Surely- surely it won't come to that!" Flustered, with a stumbled step she hastened to stand before Twitchpaw as if to shield her apprentice from the suggestion. Totoro meant well, undoubtedly, but to groom it off? Anything but that.

"I will place my paws on one side, keeping it down for you to tug free." Daisyflight followed through with her words, nodding to the pitiable shape of Skittles before them. "If that doesn't work we can- we will try the alternative." Her eyelids feathered with distaste, turned away from the sight below. Despite the molly's hesitance, her grasp was firm. Unsheathed claws gripped the smooth surface and her ivory-gloved forepaws were taut with effort. First try and they could avoid the worst.​

✿ ✿ ✿​

 

[watson]

wait around, i'll smile again​

---

It's the irritating clonk of plastic on bark that brings Watson over to investigate the noise and when he realizes it's Skittles trapped in that torture device, his concerned gasp can't help but morph into a ripping laughter. "How? How on earth did you-?" Goodness, he's laughed twice in a day. Something must be off balance in the universe, it's worrying almost. "Oh no, please do let Totoro do his work," the tabby pleads with humor, eager to stretch this misfortune out for the entertainment. Yet he does finally relent and moves over to help in Daisyflight's plan.

Watson moves to Skittles' side and aims to grab his friend by the scruff he can reach near his shoulder blades. Trying to use the tom's mane of fur as a cushion against his prickly teeth, he would pull back with his limited strength. His nose wiggles, catching the familiar scent of the twoleg product. He's never much had a taste for it (too oily) but the slight sweetness to it must have drawn his companion like a fly to honey. He'll get a proper scolding later when Watson realizes that with the impaired vision, Skittles might have gotten killed by a mechanical monster or snatched by the catcher, but for now he's living in the moment.​

 

[QUILLSTRIKE]

I FEEL LIKE AN ASTRONAUT IN THE OCEAN​

---

Quill had seen this before. Back in twoleg place the cats were always hungry, and it wasn't unusual for them to go sticking their noses in anything they could find that smelled like food. It was one of the most commonly known things that humans were big on flavor, always eating. They had multiple dens setup throughout the place that were literally just dedicated to passing out food, and more often than not a large portion of said food ended up going to waste in the trashcans out back. Usually gaining access to these resources was as simple as knocking a can over, but sometimes the humans liked to stick their food inside things. While Quill didn't know the names for said things -wrappers, bags, boxes, jars, etc- he was familiar enough with the custom, and it didn't take him long to realize what Skittles had done to themselves.

The large tall youth couldn't help but snicker just a little at the sight, watching as the others rushed to help the older tom. "You look like one of the twolegs dogs when they smush their faces up against the window." he mused, unsure if Skittles would understand the reference, but figuring they might given the fact that he recognized the cat from twoleg place- surely they'd witnessed the stupidity of mans mutts? ​

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skyclan - male - 6 months - bisexual - homoromantic - single - very tall tabby tomcat with broad shoulders