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!
News & Updates
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.
The manor halls echoed in their silence, ghosts walked the halls and shadows crept around the corners. Flashes of movement seemed to catch your eye only to find nothing when you turned your head. The estate carried the memories of the bustling that these cats once filled it with and refused to let go. He stood steadfast as he made his way down the steps, refusing to flinch at imagined voices calling out greetings. His choices were his own and the decisions he had made haunted him no more than the memories of his sister's horrified face did. Sacrifices needed to be made for the greater good.
As he stepped out onto the balcony, lingering in the shadows of the crumbled door frame. The courtyard behind the estate laid below him and his ears twitched at the mumblings of the students, a frown creeping onto his features as his blue eyes swept across them. There were so few of them now, and the life experience carried between all the cats in Moonclan now was something pitiful; there was little to be done other than take it as the opportunity that it was. So malleable these young cats, primed for these new teachings they would grow under. Taking a breath he held it deep in his chest and twisted his features into their peaceful serenity he knew they would be looking to see. This was a time of instability, they needed the promise carried on the wings of change. All he needed to do was deliver it to them.
His brown shaded pelt made him hard to distinguish as he walked from the shadows of the manor and out onto the balcony proper, but as he leapt onto the railing he watched the ripple pass among those below, as they all held their words; let the silence from inside the manor grasp them out in its courtyard. Puzzlemaker let it linger, let it settle before he finally spoke.
"It can crawl, it can fly, but has no legs or wings to do so. It lingers over our shoulders, shepherding us towards our final ends. Those standing before me now are those who have escaped its grasping hands. Who have been blessed by Selene's protection from it's greedy grasping presence. Those standing before me now are those who have been granted more time. " The siamese minister held the word, let it grasp them in it's daunting implications.
"I have witnessed the Lady of Puzzles anger and I have lived it, we have all lived through it. We have been chosen to walk under her light, under her blessing into a new age of Moonclan. Already we have started proving our worth for this mercy but we must not ever forget that while we bask under her light she can still take it away. The Culling lays behind us now and every day we continue forward is a gift from her, it is why we call this our present. The future is yet to come and is every changing, we must ensure that it to, will one day be our present; we must never fail in our duties to Selene." Glancing up he let the moon in sky wash over his features, closing his eyes and basking in the light before pinning the crowd with his jewel bright eyes.
"Many lay behind us, but until we have forgotten them our dead are never truly dead to us. Tonight our Vesper will be in memory of those who could not come with us into the new age. They committed the gravest sin in turning against Our Lady but forgiveness can be found even after death, and we will pray for mercy, we will prey for guidance to these lost souls and that they may too find themselves under Our Ladies light once more." Dipping his head he counted his breaths and let himself falling into a sort of peaceful meditation before raising his head once more. Eyes critically surveying that everyone was praying for the lost souls they had left behind.
"I release our Commissioner, my nephew, Windsweptashes into leading the rest of our Vesper on this night. To hear your confessions and speak of your promises to Selene, to hear your concerns, and your worries." Smiling towards where his nephew stood slightly behind him on the balcony before turning to sweep his gaze across them once more. "Tonight I start my novena to Selene, and will be in closed prayer until I have gained her guidance for our near future. You may rest assured under our Commissioner and may you all be blessed to find guidance under Selene's light and walk in her steps in the coming days."
Standing on the railing he turned and leaped down, leaving the space open for Windsweptashes, dipping his head and walking back into the manor. Where a secluded room on the third floor waited to shut him away.
please feel free to have your cats join in with a sermon if you'd like, or maybe a prayer or two! there are no rules for how to do this, just feel free to join in! the cat of Moonclan would already be aware that joining in the show of faith and to back up the sermon of the Minister and Commissioner is a quick way to get repore and a positive reputation, so this is a great opportunity for those who are ambitious and want to climb up the social ranks! or if you're daring, to try and stir the pot.
also, if you want more info on what Vesper is, please check on the Moonclan religion page or feel free to send a message if you have any questions <3
When had everything changed? Every word of Puzzlemaker's sermon seemed to bring to the tom a cold chill, it all felt so completely and utterly surreal. The crowd of Students, an army of young cats in the pale of moonlight, all to the backdrop of a holy sermon that was as bitterly solemn as it was gently hopeful; it didn't feel real. Everything felt like a grim fantasy, like some sort of child's story turned into some fantastical horror. And somehow, he had found himself in the midst of it.
As his uncle, now his leader and Minister, called his name, Windsweptashes was finally snapped out of what trance-like haze he had found himself in. Normally, the attention would have intimidated the newly named Commissioner -- in truth, it still did. He felt his heart skip a beat, a nauseating wave of nervousness and anxiety hit at the realization he would now be standing in front of the many eyes of his entire clan. But something about the strangness of everything deadened the effect, the normal panic he might have felt severly minimized by everything that had taken place so far. And so, after a moment's hesitation, he took Puzzlemaker's place, leaping up on the railing and then down to the balcony, overlooking the mass of youthful faces below him.
"Our Minister has spoken wise words, I hope that they will be kept in mind as we continue on tonight." Windsweptashes spoke, trying his hardest not to betray his inexperience in front of everyone. Could they notice, would they notice? But he couldn't worry about it for too long, even the split second of silence felt like it might swallow him whole.
"Tonight is a night to accept that we must continue on with heavy hearts and with solemn memories. To know that we must move forward without those that have lived beside us, who called Moonclan home with us, is a tragedy that will linger on for long after this period of mourning is behind us. For all of us they were our clan-mates, and for some, our mothers, fathers, grandmothers, grandfathers, friends, and mentors. Even knowing that they have sinned, that they were not the Chosen of Selene to move forward with us into this new era, does not and will never make us forget the good times and memories that we had with them. The pain is undeniable, and so it should not be denied. And for those who are grieving and in loss, it is a time to comfort them, and to keep them in your prayers for Selene to guide their path."
Windsweptashes paused, taking one more moment to asses the crowd, to try and guage reaction to his words, before he continued.
"But it is wise to also remember, as our Minister Puzzlemaker said, that those who we have lost on this Earthly realm are not forever lost to us in the afterlife, and are not without Selene's forgiveness. Their passing is not a damnation; while their sins might be great, Selene's mercy is greater. We stand united in hoping that all might one day be guided by our Maiden's goodness and her light; both for those who passed on, and for all who are wayward souls who have not yet found her grace." Windsweptashes felt his voice naturally gain strength as the speech continued, as slowly but surely he found his footing in his words. And as his own small sermon finally was brough to a close, his gaze once more started wandering the crowd.
"If some would like to speak a few words of faith for us before we continue, you are free to do so before I lead us all in prayer."
Brokenpaw listened as Puzzlemaker spoke, a chill creeping up the she-cat's spine as though she could feel Selene's presence with them now. Fear kept her frozen still. Not daring to glance over her shoulder, worried that the ethereal she-cat would actually be standing behind her. Watching. No, she couldn't think about that now, she was safe. By some sick twist of fate Brokenpaw had been spared where her brothers and father had not been. Her pale blue eyes shifted from Puzzlemaker to Windsweptashes as the tom had taken the floor and she found herself transfixed on the tom's words.
Yes, he was right. Her mother had been wrong and she would in fact see the rest of her family again one day... wouldn't she? Could her family really be forgiven? As the tom preached about Selene's mercy Brokenpaw found herself feeling uncertain of this but didn't have the courage to speak against the commissioner. Only when he called upon those who wished to speak their faith did her gaze leave him. The calico stared down hard at her paws, hoping to be invisible now more than ever.
Wickedpaw hadn't listened to a word Puzzlemaker said, face obviously bored, eyes drifting towards the moon as if challenging it. Say something, she willed mockingly, prove something. When her question went unanswered, she finally drew her gaze away and towards her uncle, raising her head as if to look proud. And she was, in retrospect, though not of Moonclan's 'accomplishments,' or whatever he spun it as. She was proud of herself. Despite the reputation that Elementals and Inquisitors had amongst the clan, the fear they spread, the unease, the disgust, she felt powerful, feared, and in a way she could twist it into some form of respect. She had nothing to say on the subject of Selene, surely she wasn't blessed by any means, but neither was she cursed. Perhaps in the eyes of someone more adjusted to Moonclan life they would have viewed her circumstances as some form of damnation, but Wickedpaw was nothing if not an outsider. Her perspective was unique, nurtured by city life and unwilling to change to that of the cult she had stumbled into.
As Windsweptashes took the floor, she resisted the urge to cheer him on, if only to display their connection (surely the action wouldn't go over well), but she gave a slight smile anyway, something almost teasing, though not fully. Still, she didn't bother to take his words in. Wickedpaw caught sight of the nearest student, Brokenpaw, the name registered, because she knew every single one of the students in Moonclan. She almost laughed. "You scared or somethin'?" She whispered, though it wasn't as quiet as it should have been, "scared you'll be stricken down or something?" She gave her a rough pat on the back, "say somethin' then, lest you be stricken down." Her blatant disrespect could be explained away by her inexperience, by the fact that she had only just joined recently and 'hadn't seen the light yet,' surely Puzzlemaker would give her some leeway regardless. She gave a fake but reassuring smile, as if she were being as kind as can be, as if she actually meant what she said.
FERALPAW Staring up at puzzlemake, with his one golden eye, Feralpaw gently nodded along with his wise words. Having been born into the clan, he was eager to prove his devotion to Selene. bowing his head to say his prayer his parents where lost now, only his rage flared on, and he would honor them and his bloodline by honoring Selene, using his anger and aggressing for more productive things, for his clan.
Maybe his lost eye was the goddesses way of punishing him for bullying fellow clanmates, for using his gifts for all the wrong reasons. Yet she still chose him to live, perhaps she needed his fury and willingness to fight. Maybe she brought Wickedpaw to the clan to teach him that hard lesson he needed to get him to turn his lust for war into the right direction.
Hearing the voice of the she-cat that took his eye made him grit his teeth, her words rubbing his pelt backwards, forcing himself to keep his eyes on Windsweptashes as they spoke the sermon.
hearing the opportunity to speak form the commissioner he rose to his paws. "May Selene guide us and make us stronger through our loss!" Feralpaw mewed. This was a good chance for him to be seen.
RIGIDPAW
The sleek black tom sat wistfully looking up at the Minister. He was so young when he was brought to the clan, when he was indoctrinate. From the moment he stepped foot into moonclan as a kit, he was taught the wonders of and the rage of Selene, he had no family that was lost to the culling, but it still panged his heart non the less, all these cats whose families had been ripped away. Though it is for the greater good, he reasured himself. Selene had a reason for everything, and for the sake of his clanmates he would follow her word until death.
His stomach fluttered at Puzzlemakers words. Him! Chosen by Selene to live on. He bowed his head in thanks to the Goddess, a knot in his throat, anxious at how easy it was for their lives to be taken. He wouldn't let the clan that had taken him in down, he refused to be the reason something like that would ever have to happen again.
Windsweptashes, from where he stood, could not hear the slight torment that Wickedpaw was giving to her fellow apprentice, though even if he had it would have been a difficult time to try and say anything. Instead, his eyes fell on Feralpaw, whose voice had risen up from the crowd, and he gave a gentle nod in acknowledgemnt of the student who had found the bravery to lift his voice from among the masses.
"Thank you Feralpaw, surely she will lead us through these difficults times." He agreed, attempting to make it clear he was glad that the student had taken the opportunity to add his thoughts to the sermon. He was sure it was scary, intimidating even, to draw the eyes of all of one's peers on themselves; especially considering the newness of it all. Windsweptashes was sure he wouldn't have been one to have raised his voice and let his thoughts be known if he had been in the same position at that age. But it was important that one day and one day soon they got used to it, Puzzlemaker had been clear in the urgency of the participation - in the fact soon the clan would have to get used to speaking their thoughts and what was in their hearts in front of the eyes and ears of both their clan-mates and Selene. If they couldn't lift their voice during the sermon, how would they fair during confession? Even Windweptashes was nervous for the reaction of the students below to what was soon to come; but the orders had been given, and Windsweptashes was far from the cat to be the one to question them, never the less refuse them.
Orrerypaw was not one to be left out of the spotlight. The newly named luminary had quickly taken to his job with the sort of bratty tyranical vigor that only a child given way too much power could. The attention, the grandure, the ability to lord this new control over everyone -- he was pratically living a dream come true. And so of course, at the chance to once again remind everyone how powerful and holy he was, to let the crowd know why he was now a luminary, he chose to add his voice to the sermon as well.
"I'd like to give a few words, if I may." Orrerypaw announced from his spot in the crowd, already speaking like he had as much right to hold the room as the commissioner himself. Perhaps a dangerous play, but it was hard to know how much power his position held; it, much like him, was barely past its infancy. Either way, Windsweptashes gave him a small but encouraging nod for him to continue, and so he did.
Orrerypaw cleared his voice, and then began. "I know that we are all gathered here today in the... wake, of tragedy, and it will be a very long time before I'm sure we all will be able to see our lives return to normalcy. But I wanted to remind everyone here today that we are all joined together because we are under the blessing of Selene. I think it is very important to remember that we are her Chosen, and that because of that, we must be good examples of her. Not just for ourselves, because we ought to be good for Selene and want to follow in her goodness, but also because we must remember that we need to act as examples for others who might fall from her grace. I think -- since we are remembering those who passed -- it is also good to remember that in part the reason why they lost their status as Chosen and needed to be culled was because they were not good examples for Selene, and that they would have lead the rest of us astray. So in times like these, I think it important to act as examples for those who might be lead astray, especially to those of us who are grieving right now, and might, because of their emotions running high, be more likely to stray from the path of Selene's light."
The newly named Luminary was clearly inexperienced in giving such speaches, but even still he spoke every word proudly, clearly trying to make in scale and granduer every bit of what the Minister and Commissioner before had given.
"...And, I hope, as our Commissioner advised, we remember to keep both the dead and the mourning in our prayers." Orrerypaw added on, as if to make sure he had looped everything back around to the original sermon sufficiently, as if to prove he had kept on topic and not truly gone off on his own little tangent. It was clear though that the barely apprentice-aged tom was oh so proud for his little time in the spotlight, and it was hard to even tell how much was spurred on by religious zeal and how much was an attempt to prove how holier-than-thou he was.
Windsweptashes for his part listened to the entire mini-sermon the young Luminary gave, nodding along with it and giving the apprentice his full chance to speak. Only when he was sure Orrerypaw was completely finished did he once again raise his voice from the balcony. "Thank you Orrerypaw. Those were wise words. I think we all can agree that it is wise to live a life that closely follows the path of Selene, both to be good follower unto her and to fully recieve the blessings that come with being one of her Chosen, and also to be the best guiding light that we can be for our clan-mates during these grim times."
Aurorapaw listened carefully, somehow managing to successfully split her attention between the Minister, Commissioner, the young Luminary, and the fledglings under her care. She swept her tail out to prevent one fledgling from running off into the center of the gathering, barely casting them a glance. "Now is not the time for revelry," she mewed, finally looking away when Orrerypaw finished his speech down at the kitten. "You should reflect on how you can best mold yourself to serve Selene. Once you've done that, the other Mother's and I may have a riddle for you work out."
The white she-cat had hardly known the clan before the Culling and didn't hold the same fear as the other, older cats as she hadn't been aware of the catastrophic event in the moment. Instead, for her it served more as a tale of warning and less a recounting of the their recent history. She turned her head to bring her brother into her sight, feeling the same mix of regret and gratefulness she felt every time she thought of him. Maritimepaw had a bright future ahead of him as a great Hunter or even Luminary, but he'd given that up to be a Mother with her. He'd always watched out for her, and was the extra eye she lacked. Even then she saw him quietly leading some fledglings in prayer, and she wondered if he would find a she-cat that would be worthy of him in this strange new world.
Conjuringpaw sat not too far away from Aurorapaw, the mother having her own kits under her care. Though, it was more than clear compared to their fellow mothers Conjuringpaw was not half as vigilant. Any time a kitten tried to stray, make noise, do anything really obtrusively out of line, they were given a swift, slightly hidden cuff to the ears, and quickly dragged back into place right beside her paws. She had only half-payed attention to the speech by Orrerypaw, and had little interest in speaking herself. Sure, she had things to say, but if she wanted to share them could could turn them into a lesson plan, not tout them off in front of a crowd of cats. Something about that was too showy for her liking, or perhaps too public; since in truth, she was showy in her own, unique way.
She did however wait curiously. For one, she had heard not too far away the newly named Inquisitor harassing Brokenpaw, and she was interested in seeing if the other apprentice would break under the pressure. And secondly, she was morbidly curious about what was soon to come after the prayers; confession. Would they confess, and who would do so? Conjuringpaw planned to, at least. Not because she really wanted to, but mostly because she hoped others would join in, because she wanted to see how serious the confessions would get, or if it would only be her on her lonesome announcing things in front of a judging crowd. Oh sure, it would be slightly humiliating for most cats, but this wasn't the sort of thing that made her flinch. She'd proudly announce her sins publicly if it meant she could hear those of others, if she could see something that she's never seen before; the shameful, hidden secrets that the cats around her kept, being touted off as offerings to the goddess herself.
If only to hopefully spur this on, she turned a gaze in somewhat cold, distant humor and curiosity to the few kits that were under her care. "You know confession is coming up soon. You should start thinking about what you want to confess, it'll do you no good to go to bed with a guilty concious." She said quietly, almost in a whisper, so that only the fledglings in her care could hear as she tried to clear away a purring quality to her words than came with the slight thrill of power and manipulation over these young lives. One might of thought her evil or cruel -- perhaps in some way she was -- but it was a gentle cruelty, one with no mal-intent, just genuine fascination and an excitement for new sights and situations and a new sense of power she'd never held before. If it was evil, it was an innocent evil, and perhaps that was the most terrifying evil of all. "Selene can see your thoughts and your sins already, it's just a matter of getting repentence."
Bacchuspaw sat beside Conjuringpaw, straight and proper, the usual heavy, hooded-eyed smile on his face. He didn't believe in Selene with any terrible amount of commitment — but he didn't believe in very much at all with any terrible amount of commitment. He radiated faint humour — not haughty, not smug, not like he knew something they didn't; it was the simple amusement of someone who glossed over death, over violence, over life. Everything existed in a vague, black fog — this cat talked, this cat talked, this cat died, that cat died. Oh, how sad. His world was as drained of colour as the Estate, as muted and ashy as the crumbling stone walls. He didn't remember being like this before — and that was all it was, a before. Parents and then no parents. But in the after, in that state of survival, everything had fitted into the dark, and now all that was left was Bacchuspaw smiling at Vespers like cats raising their voices in prayer was something so terribly amusing. It felt like morphine.
His whole life felt like morphine.
He'd been watching Orrerypaw through the ears of other cats, watching with something like lazy addiction as the Luminary sat there looking so proud of himself. Windsweptashes' voice was a distant melody, muffled beyond the haze; all the scents of the other cats were just as muffled, the only thing making its way vaguely into his consciousness the heady warmth of all the bodies around him. And still his heavy, slow-blinking gaze didn't leave Orrerypaw. Through the fog, something prickled at his stomach, something that made him wary of the impending confessions in a way he didn't usually feel.
The voice of his fellow Mother finally dragged Bacchuspaw from his reverie. He dragged his gaze away from Orrerypaw, his movements always so slow, a wide, thin smile spreading across his face as he looked at Conjuringpaw. He let out a heavy, sighing hum with his mouth closed, like he'd just been reawakened to her. The weight of his eyes didn't change. He had his own smatter of fledglings to look after that night, but they all knew better than to make a noise, than to move a muscle. They sat obediently about his forepaws. "Ahh, a guilty conscience," he answered Conjuringpaw, and his voice was that strange thing it always was, as heavy and slow as everything else, an absinthe sigh. Going to bed with a guilty conscience was better than going to bed with no one at all. "Yes, we wouldn't want that. As Selene looks into my thoughts, I hope she enjoys the show."
Conjuringpaw's ears perked, and she half turned her head to only catch a side-glimpse at the other mother behind her, a slightly raised eyebrow and a slight hint of annoyance glinting in their hazel eye, the only one that could even quite see the tom at from her angle.
Her whiskers twitched slightly. "Ah? Sounds like you have things worth sharing. Don't tell me you don't plan on confessing; you'll be a horrible example." Their voice a soft and stifled purr, because there was always a slight purr to her tone. Like the broken remnant of some foreign accent, but lesser, simpler. It made on her words seem to roll off her tongue. Beneath it all was a hint of a challenge, and maybe somewhere else, a note of slight contempt that the other tom would intefere with her plans, his own words that seemed to slightly tease her own words of wisdom to the fledglings, that seemed to make light of her own comments. It wasn't something she would let him get away with so easily.
"Ah," Bacchuspaw laughed, that sleepy-drunk smile still dimpling his cheeks and weighing his eyes to long-lashed slits. "I don't confess — when my time comes, Selene and I can have a nice long chat in person. What's better for a goddess, a few scraps to starve a sparrow or enough for a feast?" The smile spread into a lazy grin, his eyes widening briefly to flash on the last word. He seemed hardly to know what he was saying; sometimes one needed a little help to get through Vespers, and he'd taken a little much. It was a near-heretical statement, but he was effective enough as a Mother — brutality was a fine teacher, and his fledglings knew each point of the Lunar Code quicker than any others in the nursery, knew to be devout, to be obedient, to praise and revere Selene with a staggering degree of bowed subservience — that it always slid off him. His kits were god-fearing; it was a necessary evil if the Mother lurking over them in the shadows, watching them with such silent, unloving threats from icy, sober eyes, harboured a certain impenitence. But he was a survivor more than he was proud — if they wanted him to confess, he would confess. He would confess like such a good little zealot, such a godly crusader. He would confess to all the things that didn't warrant confession and keep all the truths close to his chest.
He laughed again, low and drawling, and brushed the backs of his claws against his chest to itch at a spot. "I'm already a horrible example," he replied, with the easily accepting mirth of someone who'd long since given up, who took none of this — not his fate, not his reputation — seriously. "What's a hundred good examples to a child if they don't have one bad one? Every mother needs one poor soul to tut over and say, see, little one, don't be like that. I just so happen to have accepted that lonely post." One of the fledglings at his paws leaned over to whisper something to another one, taking the Mother's example to mean the could do it as well; Bacchuspaw's eyes flicked down and he thwacked the kit across the back of the head. Shoulders shaking with slow laughter, he looked back to Conjuringpaw, once again fading from strict Mother back down to fog-addled fainéant. "Case in point."
Conjuringpaw's eye slowly fell to the kit, smacked and likely still reeling from the blow, which silenty trailed back up to Bacchuspaw. It was hard, slightly cold gaze, but yet it still burned with something one note away from disgust; a certain unspoken contempt. The violence was too far for her, it churned her a bit. Not that she was some lovely, sweet mother to the fledglings under her ward -- that seemed consistently to better fall in the department of Rigidpaw or Aurorapaw. She had no qualms about yelling her lungs out at kits, at insulting them, and at points when it was especially needed, raising a paw or two. She was manipulative, harsh, calculating, and played with their little lives like puppet strings. But she still had boundaries, she still had lines she held like moral lines in the sand, too meaningful and valuable to be crossed. Sacred, in some ways, though perhaps it was a bit hypocritical. Who was she to decide what was sacred anymore than Bacchuspaw did? But being a hypocrite was not the mother of all sins for her, and she didn't mind being a hypocrite if it meant something. Or anything. And so she just gave a half smile, a cold smirk. Testing.
"I prefer to live by the wisdom that it only takes one bad apple to spoil an entire batch, and your case in point works just as well for mine." She said, her voiced a soft rumble, and the way it trilled sounded almost like a softened cackle, if such a thing could possiblly exist. It was filled with some bleak, dark mirth, as if there was a second layer to the joke, a meaning that the tom would never grasp. "But do as you will. Just hope you don't find yourself under someone willing to show you the same corrections you give your fledglings; you've managed to get off very nicely for now. I suppose it's very easy to give off whippings when you aren't under threat of any yourselves -- for your sake may it stay that way." Her words were toying, and she didn't mean a word of it. Not the last part, at least. She could see fire and she could see damnation, and she could see the factors that would one day lead to a glorious fall if the tom was not careful. But she wouldn't be the one to stop him, that was for certain. She preferred fate to have its way, it was sweeter that way.
It was all so boring. Wickedpaw wanted to rip her ears off. She wondered if any had ever done it before — maybe she could be the first, driven so mad she plucked them off and put them in a basket or something. Or gave them to the kits to play with. She peeled herself away from Brokenpaw at the thought of kits, casting her gaze towards the two chatting Mothers, aka two teenagers partly in charge of raising the fledglings. How did Moonclan come up with this stuff? It was almost comical. She inched close enough to overhear their conversation, interested only for the first few seconds before it began to drone on and she tuned it out, choosing instead to insert herself and change the subject to something more interesting.
"Guys, gals, kids." She nodded at them respectively. "Anybody ever tell you guys you look like the perfect worst little family? All mismatched and strange and. . ." she made a face, somewhere between mocking and befuddlement. "I heard whoopings. Or was it whippings? Whatever, who are we beating up? I can totally help you with that." She laughed. Probably not the best thing to arrange fights while at a sacred relgious gathering where she was supposed to be confessing her sins or whatever, but she simply held no shame. No care. She seeped of apathy, the loud kind, the type that made itself known in the way she relentlessly teased and toyed with everyone around her, how she had no problem throwing anyone under the bus because it meant she got out unscathed, how she laughed at violence and cruelty. Wickedpaw didn't live in a haze as Bacchuspaw did. Everything was as real as real could be, no fog, no filters, all grittiness and dirt and ugliness and occasional grace, so hard to come by and so precious because of that. Moonclan was too wrapped up in their goddess to live like she did. Perhaps that was why she stuck out so much.
"Has anyone ever told you you're as beautiful as the moonlight on distant peaks?" Bacchuspaw replied, slowly turning his head to look at Wickedpaw with those same drug-amused eyes and catatonic smile. It was said for no real reason and with no real basis in truth — he'd hardly ever noticed her, let alone taken the time to judge her attractiveness. But, looking at her now with lazy, floating half-interest, he supposed she was. He didn't have the same sternness about class as someone like Orrerypaw did; he'd just as easily lounge and exchange idle gossip with someone far below as with someone of equal standing. What a waste it would be to forsake a fun time just because of the small matter of aristocratic differences. Just hope you don't find yourself under someone willing to show you the same corrections you give your fledglings. He turned his head back to Conjuringpaw, and now the interest, though slightly feigned for amusement, was more genuine. "Do you happen to know someone?" He laughed, a very low, half sound that made his shoulders shake more than it actually made sound.
"In any case, ladies, this is getting very sordid. We're at mass."
Aurorapaw had been busy with the fledglings, letting Bacchuspaw and Conjuringpaw discuss theory and faith on their own. Her back was turned to the two other mothers, not out of any specific dislike or disinterest, but because the fledglings, not known for their patience and restraint, were getting whipped up by the fervor and excitement in the air. She was trying her best to keep them calm and under control in a manner befitting Selene, but found her soft words and gentle reminders to be somewhat ineffective. Finally, she offered them a puzzle, one of the easier ways of drawing their attention. Though it was negative reinforcement to reward them for their bad behavior, it was all she could think of at the moment.
"Here, gather round little ones," she mewed, voice soft yet carrying a distinct air of authority. "Turn your thoughts to this; if you get the riddle correct, I will treat you all to a bit of honeycomb. Work together, as we're stronger together than individually." She cleared her throat, then projected her voice so the kits could hear her over the soft murmur of voices. "You cannot keep me until you have given me. What am I?" The kits fell into discussion almost immediately, Winterkit's voice peeking over the rest as she grew frustrated with their suggestions, but it was enough for Aurorapaw to turn back to the other students, surprise lighting her expression when she saw a new cat join them.
She was beginning to offer a smile in greeting when she heard Wickedpaw's comment about violence and felt her expression shutter. "I seem to have come at a strange time in the conversation," she began diplomatically, hiding her shock and frustration at such unorthodox conversation at a gathering dedicated to Selene. "Surely we aren't talking about whippings or beating anyone up at this most holy of gatherings, are we?" Her tone brooked no room for an answer in the negative, eyes narrowed. She rarely used her rank, if ever, but pulled herself up to her full height and looked down at Wickedpaw. She may be an inquisitor, but Aurorapaw was a Mother and wouldn't have this kind of conversation around her young charges.
"This is to be a time of reflection and quiet contemplation," she continued, giving Conjuringpaw an almost betrayed look. The two she-cat's weren't friends, but Aurorapaw respected the other Mother's ability to work with the Fledglings and impress upon them critical thinking and life skills. "It seems that Windsweptashes was correct in his assessment that the clan needs to take part in a confession if such thoughts as these are being held by our respected members." Yes, she knew her fellow Mothers and Students would most likely see her as a try-hard suck-up, but she took her faith to Selene and the clan seriously. Though her waning alignment more often than not kept her out of confrontation, when it came to her job to the Goddess and her clan, she would fight tooth and nail for them both.
Ravenpaw sat closer to the Mothers than the other Students. The tom keeping a close eye on the four kits that he had adopted. The kits parents hadn’t been apart of the Chosen but had sinned and been apart of the Culling. He whispered a few words to himself. A hopeful prayer maybe for the kits or himself he wasn’t sure.
CONSTELLATIONPAW
Constellationpaw’s dishevel appearance was probably frowned upon at the Vesper. The white fur on his chest and forearms stained with various colors of crushed berries and other herbs the tom that found for his masterpiece he was working on in some random corner of the Lunar Estate. He didn’t look bored, but he also didn’t look happy to be there. His face was stuck in a neutral state as his marbled blue eyes stared directly at the new Commissioner.
Conjuringpaw had perhaps been going to add a comment to Bacchuspaw's own, her mouth opening up with a slight grin like a sharp half-crescent moon (very fitting, given the occasion), her eye widening a bit from its slightly narrowed state -- and then Aurorapaw spoke, and her head quitely moved from looking over her shoulder to the other Mother not to far from her, a brow slightly raised as her attention was drawn over.
She was slightly surprised to see the look of betrayal, but she guessed she couldn't blame her. The entire thing had made a bit of a scene, much more than she had wished to create with just a soft comment down to the fledglings in her care. Though, if she were being honest, she couldn't find it within herself to truly regret it. Once more was about to address a fellow mother, and from the looks of it it likley would have been something appeasing, when she was cut off by a rather sharp-
"Ahem."
It was the second attempt to get their attention the Commissioner had given, but the first was so soft and meek that no one would have heard it, and Windsweptashes would have been mortified if they did. But he had found his voice the second time around, his expression stern, though not quite harsh, on the group of four who had all been making a small scene in the back.
It had taken him a while to noticed them, there were a lot of students and fledglings and most of those involved had been seated nearer to the back. But at some point it did become visible -- even slightly audible -- and it had the makings of becoming a bigger problem if someone didn't intervene. Though in truth, he hadn't really wanted to; he would have given anything to not have to have done any level, even this meager amount, of discipline on the small group of apprentice-aged cats. They were all barely more than children and teenagers, talking in the back while the adults listened quietly was only natural, a typical part of growing up and gaining maturity.
But it couldn't be now, not anymore.
Because other than him and Puzzlemaker and Hiddensecret, the apprentices were the closest things to adults the clan had and discipline was important, otherwise they would all fall apart. When he saw even Orrerypaw -- who even with only barely a moon of training the small Luminary he knew well enough to say was he normally much too obediant to risk anything that might get him in trouble -- turn his head to crane over and see the crowd at who was causing the tiny ruckus, he knew something had to be done.
"Ahem." He'd spoken up, now expecting all their attention to be on him. He hoped it worked -- speaking over them would be humiliating, and he had no clue how he would handle it. "I think now anyone who had any interest in adding something to the sermon has already spoken up and said their piece. Again, thank you for everyone who did, I'm sure Selene is thankful to have such words of wisdom shared for all to hear and consider tonight." He paused, scanned the crowed for anyone who might possibly speak up, or alternativelt someone who might have been speaking over him. He was fairly satisfied no one had, and even if someone did, he was inclined to pretend they hadn't.
"Now I'll be leading us all in prayer. I'd ask for you to close your eyes and keep your head bowed during this time." He gave a pause, lowering his head a bit as well as he began, though his eyes never shut. He continued to keep watch.
"Dear Selene, Lady of Puzzles, Maiden of Mysteries, Bringer of light, may you watch over us all on this night. Where many hearts and voices of believers gather, I know you are present also; keeping watch over your many children, your Chosen. May even in the wake of tragedy those among your Chosen find joy, may even in sorrow you bring them comfort. And may you guide their feet to do well by your name, and bring glory to you. Even in the wake of these turbulant times, may any changes that may be done be by your name and for your name, so you may lead Moonclan to a time of greater revelation and growth by following in your pawsteps and by your example. May all glory forever be to you, and may you forever light our path." And with that, he let the silence sit for a moment as he lifted his head. He could have made it longer, probably should have made it longer, but he almost worried that like most young cats, the length of time they were forced to sit there was making them antsy. And he had grown antsy too, terrified that with every moment something else would go terribly and horribly wrong. Thus far, the youth chattering in the background had been the only thing to disrupt the flow of the Vesper, and he was grateful for that. But he wondered how long that would last, and he was particulalry uneasy about what he was about to call for next.
"We'll end off tonight on something I mentioned earlier: Confessional. I'll remind you that it is not required that you publicly confess, but I believe it's a very admirable thing for you to do. It takes great character to admit to your peer that you have done wrong, and it takes great honor to show that you wish to be held accountable to the public to prove that you want to grown and be better than what you once were. And certainly, too, is it admirable in the eyes of Selene, to show that you hold true repentence for any sins that have been done." Windsweptashes tried to keep conviction in his voice, of sympathy and of strength and to potray by force of words alone this truly was an honorable thing -- and to his credit, it was very arguable he succeeded, if such a success could be made based on oratory skills alone. He was aware what he was asking was probably to the masses of cats below a humiliating thing. The recent requirement that all sins had to be confessed to him or to a Luminary, he was sure, had shaken things enough. This, however, was asking them to admit fault in front of all their peers, to publicly express what they had done wrong; and if there was one thing that was true about young children with a longing to fit in, it was that they were quick to avoid humiliation, to be othered and seen as wrong or bad. And so he waited, with an anxiousness he tried not to visibly portray, to see if any of them really would do it.
"I have something to confess." The voice was small and came from behind the group of previously squabbling Students. A Fledgling no more than three moons old stood up straight, her white pelt seeming to radiate the moonlight back at the onlookers. She wore as regal an expression as a kit of her age could, tail straight up in the air.
"I confess to Lady Selene that I, um, sometimes yell at my sister Crystalkit when she's being dumb- I mean-" Winterkit's little voice, at first so confident, began to waver under the scrutiny of the clan and her slip-up of insulting her sister during her Confession. "I- I-"
Aurorapaw took pity on her sometimes-righteous little sister and stepped forward, placing her tail on the kit's back. "Recognizing your temper and confessing it is certainly the kind of piety that the Goddess looks for in Her chosen," she mewed, feeling her little sister's trembling body relax as the attention was taken off of her. "You're an example for us all, little sister." The Mother gave Winterkit a lick on the forehead, not entirely sure of what was supposed to happen next, though she gave Windsweptashes and small smile in hopes he would guide them towards whatever next step there was. From the mouths of babes indeed.
Crystalkit flicked her sister with her tail, it was a reassuring flick, despite their fighting she still did care for her sister. "And I confess to our lady Selene that sometimes I behave dumb... and annoy my sister... on purpose." She figured if Winterkit was going to confess she may as well join her, though the annoying would probably continue after the vesper. now was time for her best behavior. _
Feralpaw held in his amusement at the kits who chose to speak first, he agreed with Aurorapaws words, Winterkit was indeed a good example for her fellow fledglings, her bravery was encouraging even to grumpy old him. _
Ridgedpaw had been listening awkwardly to everything that was being said by the other mothers, he tucked a small kit closer to him drawing his attention to Windsweptashes words. "I-I confess that i have not been very assertive in my devotion to lady Selene," His mew was nervous afraid of what his fellow clanmates would think. "I pray that I am forgiven, and promise to her, that I will do better, For her and for the clan." He held on to the kit below him like a security, like the small little thing could keep him grounded. _
Twilightpromise watched with a calm gaze at the cats as she listened to the vesper. The she-cat kept to herself a smile on her face nodding to the words Windsweptashes spoke, watching her clanmates honor Selene on this fine night.
Bacchuspaw turned his attention to Aurorapaw, delighted by the holier-than-thou intervention, his brows raising in self-righteous glee, and was just opening his faintly grinning mouth to reply—
When the Commissioner interrupted them. He did fall silent, but the grin on his face only became more lazily satisfied as he glanced pointedly at Conjuringpaw. What was the point of a Vesper if you weren’t the reason it was derailed? When Windsweptashes led the prayer, Bacchuspaw obeyed and closed his eyes, but only after a low, very pointed intake of breath and a slight clearing of his throat, like it was an inconvenience. The words were familiar, so drainingly familiar — even if the fine details changed, the overarching theme never did; it was what he taught the fledglings day after day after suffocating day. Bleak and unchanging and grey as peat.
When the Commissioner fell silent, Bacchuspaw opened his eyes tentatively, like he was making sure it was done and everyone else was opening their eyes as well. His gaze roved the silent crowd, waiting to see if anyone would confess and willing them not to so he could go to bed — and when the kit spoke up, the kit he knew too well from classes, he barely bit back another irritated sound and rolled his eyes, subtle enough that it was just a quick flick upwards and a slight clicking sound with his tongue as he turned his head away. It was a fine thing he was at the back of the crowd, half-hidden in the shadows of the marble columns. He wanted to lie down so he could at least lounge if this was going to go on all night, with petty little kit sins, but even he didn’t stoop to that level of insolence; instead he just sat there, listening to the farce of it all like it had been manufactured with his irritation in mind. Finally, just to move things along, and because he might as well give himself a little debauched limelight, he raised his voice, all hazy, moneyed monotone and red wine refinement, and confessed, “I profess that I am a victim to impure thoughts, and hope that whatever the Lady Selene has been forced to bear witness to, she can find it in herself to forgive me. I will try very hard to be better.” He sat back, slumping slightly against the column. The mockery had lost its appeal and now he felt unbearably depressed, weighed down by the bad high and by the general black, prejudiced air of the whole courtyard; he just wanted to go to bed. What had been intended to amuse himself had just made him feel heavy. It was too close to the truth.