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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achromatic idk how this is gonna go or what they're doing but hey, Ratking & Puzzlemaker go!
He paced the length of his receiving room with an anxious sort of energy he never let escape him in most circumstances. His blue eyes flicked towards the archway that might have once held a door but not only showed a clear view down the hallway, towards the grand staircase that lead up the the third floor; their floor. He had called for Ratking to meet him before he himself had hurried here and the longer it took for the tom to show up the more his fur rose along his spine. He felt his patience fraying and his control slipping away from him. He knew he couldn't great the new inquisitor in such a state but his very position was in danger and he needed to nip the problem in the bud immediately.
In truth using Ratking for it already felt like a risk of faith, as if he was standing on the cliff edge and could be pushed to his demise any moment. But he knew if he went to Wickedpaw his vicious little niece would push him off for sure and then might laugh as carrion birds feasted on his corpse. The imagery brought a chuckle and he finally paused in his pacing. Somehow the reminder of the strength in his bloodline had him straining his spine, forcing his fur to lay flat.
He needed to remind himself that this was just a problem like any other, like the ones he had carefully dealt with, perhaps even less severe than most of his past transgressions. It could be wrapped up easily if Ratking could prove himself, if the tom was competent enough it might now even register as a bump in the road.
dm me if you want to listen to me ramble about the interstellar soundtrack
2,314 posts
Post by achromatic on Apr 7, 2022 10:13:20 GMT -5
There were two faces to the MoonClan prophet. There was a face told by the rumours, of a cat shrouded in shadows, with glowing green eyes and a wicked smirk, of a sneer as he swooped in to ruin lives by telling them what they wished not to know. Causes of death, predictions of accidents, of infidelity or warnings of betrayal. A bad omen just waiting, watching, with haunting eyes scoring for the next victim of fate's wandering gaze. He was the messenger, yes, but the evil eye claimed him just as much, and was Diablo not his Maleficent's servant? Was the messenger not just as guilty as the devil?
Yet, few recognized him for what he was, and as he came crawling out of the darkness, his ears drawn back and his tail twitching in that agitated fidget he often tried to stop, his green eyes weren't filled with triumph or arrogance at being in a position that lorded over the others. In fact, if he was truly honest with himself, he often wondered why he was allowed to be an inquisitor; the rest of his kind was often killed, and he was fortunate enough, that his family didn't live in MoonClan at all.
His eyes darted left and right as he came into view. "Puzzlemaker," he dipped his head. His gaze was averted as usual, the shy tom always found it hard to meet anyone's gaze; his lack of social contact often set him apart, making him both awkward and unapproachable. "You asked to see me?" he spoke again. There was a reverence he held for the other cat, for even though his acceptance here came at a cost, it was a wholehearted acceptance of him in a way his family never did. Surely, the Minister hated everything about Ratking's kind, but he had been the only one to welcome the strange young tom when he had fled his home, and so it goes.
Puzzlemaker blinked and jerked himself from his own thoughts, turning to look towards Ratking and gifting the younger tom a soft smile. "Ah yes, thank-you for being so prompt," he examined the other but he looked the same as always. He liked to keep an eye on his assets, make sure they weren't suffering undue hardships and Ratking was one of his most valuable supporters.
"I hate to cut straight to business but I'll be sending you on a mission soon." He grimaced, he did hate to jump right into things and would have preferred to dispense small talk for a bit before dumping this on the other. But, though he hid it well, his nerves had him wanting to nail down the others mission so that he could be assured that was one problem being worked towards a fix.
Now he just had to decide how to word it without letting the other know the true reason of it. He was sure he could trust the Inquisitor to keep a secret but he also feared any emotion coming into play. "As you've most likely heard the clans around us shun our religious faith. They also allow tyrants to run wild and unchecked." He glanced towards him and raised a brow as if to say sorry to tell you things you already know. "It has been brought to my attention that Winterclan in particular in running wild. Now normally this wouldn't be our concern, but I ran into someone recently seeking shelter, unfortunately they died of their injuries but they were able to tell me Winterclan was the cause. I have decided that something must be done, some show to prove we will not stand for such blatant abuse."
"I need to ask you, before I continue on, do you think yourself capable of an assassination?"
dm me if you want to listen to me ramble about the interstellar soundtrack
2,314 posts
Post by achromatic on Apr 23, 2022 13:09:55 GMT -5
He was like Puzzlemaker's pet dog, always with his large eyes, as if begging to be seen, begging to be useful to the clan and yet, the moment the tom spoke of assassination, his heart stopped. His green eyes, soft and shy, were now wide as the full moon, blinking owlishly at the other cat.
Was he capable of an assassination? Ratking was...soft. As terrifying as he seemed, with his reputation and his gangly form like a haunting vampire in a mansion, he had always had a soft spot for everything. Plants, animals even, he was a gentle soul at heart, not the kind of cat who'd pick a fight. He had been bullied when he was younger for never fighting back, for being more timid and feminine than even his sisters. Assassination? Could he?
Then again, he couldn't disappoint Puzzlemaker. He didn't have a home otherwise. He couldn't return back to DayClan to his family; they didn't have a use for him anymore. He couldn't go elsewhere; he was certain the other places would have his head on a silver platter. He only had one choice. His legs shook at the very thought of having someone's blood on his claws.
"Yes," his whisper wasn't exactly convincing, but there was no choice. Puzzlemaker's word was law; he'd never be able to make up for his sins if he admitted to his faults.
