Warrior Cat Clans 2 (WCC2 aka Classic) is a roleplay site inspired by the Warrior series by Erin Hunter. Whether you are a fan of the books or new to the Warrior cats world, WCC2 offers a diverse environment with over a decade’s worth of lore for you - and your characters - to explore. Join us today and become a part of our ongoing story!
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11.06.2022 The site has been transformed into an archive. Thank you for all the memories here!
Here on Classic we understand that sometimes life can get difficult and we struggle. We may need to receive advice, vent, know that we are not alone in our difficult times, or even just have someone listen to what's going on in our lives. In light of these times, we have created the support threads below that are open to all of our members at any time.
dm me if you want to listen to me ramble about the interstellar soundtrack
2,314 posts
Post by achromatic on Dec 28, 2021 19:07:44 GMT -5
He didn't know how he felt anymore, the outburst at their little gathering had surely put a target on his back. So he did what he did best, regressed into himself and hid what he truly felt, and buried it all deep, deep within. There was a part of him that knew that this mask of his that he put on wasn't always going to work. There were too many things that he cared about. Sagebristle, the few friends he had in the clan, even the kit he had helped save a couple weeks ago...the pot was bubbling and boiling over and the lid felt just a little out of reach.
“Weeeeell!” Kier greeted cheerily. “That little outburst worked wonders for you, I must say. Aspenstar’s displeasure — Phantomfox’s animosity, no doubt. Complete and utter isolation from a Clan that, by and large, is far better at rolling with the proverbial punches than you or your hussy of a mate seem to be… Yes, Moonblight, excellent job — if,” he suddenly laughed, truly delighted, “if you keep going at this rate, I’ll hardly have to lift a claw to have you ruined.” He grinned, padding in closer to his side from behind him to peer at his profile, his eyes unblinking with a challenge and his voice growing quieter, like he’d won already. “I so love when things go my way.”
It didn’t matter what Moonblight told Aspenstar — she knew Kier had it in for him; she had given him free rein to either break him and his mate or get rid of them; he couldn’t go running to his mommy figure because the mean widdle deputy was picking on him. Kier almost felt sorry for him, being so trapped. But he didn’t. He utterly didn’t. This feeling, backing someone into a corner from which every choice looked bad in their very own home, being able to talk freely because his sadism was not only being tolerated but rewarded, was better than a drug. Villain monologues really were the best, especially when he was guaranteed of nothing being thwarted — the inevitability of NightClan’s dark new era was intoxicating. The good guys had lost. Now, he could have his fun with them, bat their tired old bones around like a game to amuse kits with. And no one could do a thing.
dm me if you want to listen to me ramble about the interstellar soundtrack
2,314 posts
Post by achromatic on Dec 29, 2021 11:11:40 GMT -5
Moonblight never felt such rage as he did when he met this cat, and he could feel it once more, seeping into his paws with a tingle. The young tom wasn't a murderer, but for Kier, he'd almost make an exception. How could a cat be so irritating in the first place? Kier's words didn't bother him as much as the other cat wanted to, because if Aspenstar wanted him dead for the outburst, if Phantomfox wanted to murder him after speaking out, he'd already be dead. He knew them well enough; the first sign of distrust from Larkspur had sent her to the grave, surely the same should've happened to him. He had seen other cats since, spoken to a few, but none he had met had the guts to speak out against this new regime.
Yet, Sagebristle and him were still alive. In fact, they were still part of the loyal guard despite screw-up after screw-up. Could Kier say teh same? Surely the first sign of weakness would send him falling down the same slopes. Still, there was that smug little look on that tiny cat that said he thought he was on a power trip, and as much as Moonblight hated it, he was a chameleon disguised as a cat.
So he let his blood boil a little longer before walking away instead. "Leave me alone," he spoke as he stormed off towards the forest, letting a great sigh leave his mouth as if he had given up. It was easier to make the other cat think he had won, and if he knew any better, Kier would certainly follow him out to gloat.
If Kier was ever blinded by anything, it was someone seemingly rolling over and submitting to him. At any other time, he would have known it was a trick, would have smelled it a mile off — but here, with Stormreign’s blood still on his fur, with the memory of NightClan’s wide, terrified, helplessly confused stares below him still burning on repeat behind his eyes, with everything going so electrifyingly perfectly, he was too buzzed, too in love with himself, too, frankly, turned on to listen to his usual alarm bells. The sensible part of Kier, the clever part, the survivor, was hissing warnings — but this Kier, the one so infatuated with this new high, was deaf to it all, was seeing everything through a haze of glorious red, could only see the victory of a crushed little plaything retreating before him.
So, he did as Moonblight expected him to do and followed after him, thinking all the while that he was acting of his own volition. He trotted at the Guard’s heels, away from camp and towards the shadows of the ferns, grinning all the while. “You know, you really ought to put her in her place. She’s pretty — but not that pretty, if you get my drift. A little scrawny, a little masculine — but maybe you like that, being led about by a she-cat. If she were mine, she’d be silent and pregnant.” He fell in beside Moonblight, leaning in and grinning up at him as they drew to a stop in the night-quiet forest, his voice lowering to a whisper. “But maybe you have… problems with that.” His eyes flicked down pointedly to the Guard’s stomach before flicking back up, his grin wide and unchanging, eyes slowly narrowing from the bottom.
dm me if you want to listen to me ramble about the interstellar soundtrack
2,314 posts
Post by achromatic on Dec 30, 2021 10:05:06 GMT -5
please go to a confessional
Moonblight was never the type to be worried about his performance in that regard, but he knew exactly what Kier wanted from him. Annoyance. Shock. Submission. The sputtering speechlessness he now put on, like he was nothing but a bumbling tom with soft kitten fluff still behind his ears, eyes wide at the utter lack of class Kier portrayed, defensive as he tried to get away in the deeper forest, far away from straying eyes.
"I–you just–stay away from Sagebristle," he replied hotly, as if flustered by the other cat, "and it's not like that at all, you're just...you're just jealous! You can't get any she-cat to like you much less anyone as pretty as her anyway! Leave me alone!" It was clear to anyone that Moonblight was running out of insults and jabs to say, and with an affronted look, he turned and raced deeper into the forest to get away from the other cat, as if his feelings were hurt.
The moment he had disappeared, at least a few steps ahead of Kier, his eyes sharpened as he looked upwards without moving his head, noting what position in the territory they were in. Surely they'd reach the falls quickly, he could hear the sound of it, and there, no one would hear anything if he wished for a confrontation. Catch me if you can, he thought with a twitch of his whiskers.
Unfortunately for Moonblight, Kier was satisfied. Twitching his whiskers with a contentedly amused smile, he watched the other tom disappear into the dark undergrowth towards the thundering roar of the winter-filled falls and, after a moment of just watching the ferns swish in his wake, turned back towards camp. He wasn’t an idiot — the Guard’s two faces may have worked on someone else, but Kier was just as two-faced as he was, just as capable of being flustered and sweet and shy; he’d seen the reality of Moonblight in the meeting, the intelligence and anger and quick, stubborn mind. Even if he didn’t know what the Guard was planning, he knew this wasn’t the real him, and the idea of throwing his weight around against a pretend victim wasn’t very fun at all. He’d said his piece, shown he was perfectly unbothered by Moonblight’s scorn and in a far better position than he was, and that was all he had wanted. A bit of enjoyment, and he’d had it.
So, letting out a purring breath through his nose, perfectly satiated, Kier padded back through the dark woods as owls hooted above him. “If you ever want to talk as equals without all this silly pretence,” he called to Moonblight behind him cheerfully, almost laughing to himself, “you know where to find me. In your home!” What a singularly delightful thought! He still had a thin, pleased little smile on his face. Maybe he’d go see Eris; he was in a good mood. He didn’t yet know this forest, but it was his — the sensation was so strange, so foreign, and so addictive. Even if he was a stranger in it, he owned it. And that was the best ownership of them all, the one you were utterly indifferent to but that you were still handed on a silver platter, to use and ruin without a name to any place. It was domestic and tame compared to the moors; it was boring, and he hated it, and he could burn it down if he wanted. He doubted even Aspenstar would stop him. It was such a fun, calm knowledge. To be so powerful…
dm me if you want to listen to me ramble about the interstellar soundtrack
2,314 posts
Post by achromatic on Dec 31, 2021 11:21:38 GMT -5
Oh, but Moonblight wasn't done yet. A change of plans? He was adaptable; he had always been forced to be, after all. No stranger came crawling into NightClan, having moved homes and fathers for moons before, without being adaptable. Perhaps he had never learned from his ancestors the art of standing on the tree tops, looking down below as if all were below his throne, like worms and snakes, but he had picked up a couple of things, working with his partner, and even more so learning as he went along.
He had never been a hunter. That was more Sagebristle than anything else, but there was a benefit in working in a team; he learned to pick up the softer skills, the moves that required him to rely more on his senses rather than his strength. He wasn't a fool enough to think that he was stronger than anyone else by brute force alone. It was a lucky thing, to be in the woods so silent, that the wind seemed to hold its own breath as he crept through the dark, his patterned pelt blending in the chiaroscuro of the dappled undergrowth. Even if Kier knew the forest well, it was a stark difference from Moonblight's understanding of it. He grew up in it. There were things that took years to master, and a territory was one of them; it did not yield itself to one overnight.
That was why his steps were silent, calculated, when he finally indulged in the darkness he had kept hidden so long. His mother may have been the sun, but his father was the devil itself, and he had grown up only knowing the darkness, only ever seeing through the night, and the next thing Kier knew, Moonblight had pinned him to the tree with his heavy paw upon the tom's throat, his golden eyes sharp, unfeeling. It wasn't a threat, it almost looked like boredom, as if this was the only inevitable outcome.
"Don't come near me again," he spoke, putting pressure on the tom's windpipe, enough to cut his words short if he dared attempt it, "you might be in Aspenstar's good graces but even she can't protect you all the time. You're just as disposable to her as I am."
Kier let out a high, surprised sound, but it quickly turned to a laugh, and then to a strangled one, as Moonblight pinned him against the tree. On instinct his back paws scrabbled against the flaking trunk for purchase, and even if his conscious mind was enjoying this wonderful turn of events, that scrabbling continued in the background almost without him realising it, a constant little scraping of claws. He slowly fell silent as Moonblight spoke, both because he ran out of air to laugh with and because he wanted to listen, but as he dangled there, too high off the ground to touch it and with one of his little forepaws laid over the Guard’s own against his throat, as a precaution or just because he wanted to feel himself being choked, he grinned back at him. It was a strangled sort of grin, tight around the edges, but that only made it look more alive. His narrow eyes were impossibly bright. Now they came to it, the reality of everything. It was so thrillingly fresh.
“You wouldn’t ha—“ His voice was too dry and choked; grinning brighter, he gripped Moonblight’s paw tighter and shifted it just an inch so he could talk more freely. It still wasn’t easy, there was still very little air in his lungs, they were still burning — but he didn’t especially want to stop that. The bark cut into his back so pleasurably. The Guard felt impossibly warm, the tendons in his paw impossibly taut. “You wouldn’t harm your very own deputy.” It was a teasing taunt, and his grin widened. “I think you’ll find I’m a little like a cockroach, Moonblight,” he continued against the other tom’s paw, voice still reedy and weak despite the glowing glee in his eyes; it seemed that the more he couldn’t breathe, the more vulnerable and out of control he was, the more they glowed. “Very difficult to kill.”
dm me if you want to listen to me ramble about the interstellar soundtrack
2,314 posts
Post by achromatic on Jan 12, 2022 14:41:44 GMT -5
"You're not my deputy," the tom spat. The grin on Kier's face should've thrown him off, startled him even, but it only made him press harder. Weird kind of creature, enjoying this, but Moonblight wasn't going to give up until he scared the fear of god into this scab of the earth. The cat looked like his eyes were going to pop out of his head, frankly, and Moonblight almost wished it would. He felt no loyalty, no obligation to this cat who had just waltzed right into this space as if he owned it. The usually polite cat felt that burning rage again, the one that made him want to snap the other tom's neck so badly...
"A cockroach was the exact thing I'd have described you as," he snarled, leaning in close, his amber eyes dark, almost the colour of the blood he wished to seek, "scum of the earth, you'll survive a disaster, maybe, but just remember, cockroaches only belong on the bottom of our paws, and no one, I mean no one, will ever respect a cockroach like you."
His grip was almost too tight, and he held it for one more moment, before letting the squirmy rat go, his claws still unsheathed lest the other cat tried any funny business. "Like I said, leave me alone, and we won't have any problems, will we?"
