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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Something was very wrong in DayClan. It was getting very silly. In fact, Peachstar had never been in a Clan as silly as DayClan, and he'd used to live in SwiftClan back when it was extremely silly. Yes, DayClan was getting just a bit too silly for Peachstar's liking--he needed to do something to fix the situation, and fast.
That was why he'd called a staff meeting. He sat in the middle of his den, tail curled neatly over his paws, waiting for Rosyclementine and Pastelchaos to arrive. Normally he would also be waiting for some sort of deputy figure, but because DayClan was so silly, they didn't have a deputy. His head started to hurt, presumably a side effect of all the silliness. I really must get to the bottom of what's going on here, Peachstar thought to himself, and I must find out why the air feels so thick and humid in my den all the time.
“WhaaaaAAAAAT’S cracka-lackin’,” Rosy greeted cheerfully as he arrived, taking a seat very close beside Peachstar and smiling as he looked out at the camp alongside him, waiting for his apprentice to join them. “You know,” he added, looking at the leader with a smile, “I don’t know what it is, but the air always smells really good in your den. And it’s not you, because I know exactly what you smell like and this one isn’t mango with a hint of maraschino cherry and powdered sugar.” He continued to smile at him. Then, out of the silence, he suddenly said, “Pastelchaos and I went to the Cretaceous the other day. We missed you. You should’ve come.”
Peachstar didn't know whether to be impressed or disturbed that Rosyclementine had his scent down so well. He decided it would simply take too much emotional labour to be disturbed and tried to be impressed. It sort of worked. "The Cretaceous?" Peachstar asked, one eyebrow quirked. "I'm not sure I'm familiar with the establishment. Is it some kind of restaurant?" He paused. "Also, where's Hoarsehoof? He usually hangs around with you, no?"
“Oh,” Rosy laughed, batting at Peachstar daintily with his paw and tipping his head back, all the while blushing at his antics. “Peachstar, you’re so funny. No, the Cretaceous is a time period — when the dinosaurs lived. Of course it wasn’t really the Cretaceous — we were just sitting in a hole for two hours. But my, oh my, our imaginations have been fiery these last few weeks, have you noticed?” At Peachstar’s question, he looked around, like he’d forgotten all about Hoarsehoof and might have misplaced him. “Oh, yeah. Here he is.”
He pulled him out from behind him, because as faithful viewers of DayClan will know, Hoarsehoof is a robot. He expanded him like one would an accordion and the diligent DayClan warrior grew to his usual immense size. “Good morning, Peachstar,” he greeted cordially, but of course it sounded more like a series of head-tossing neighs, despite him being a cat.
Whatever was happening in DayClan was happening again now. Rosy was already feeling sort of weird in the head. But being around Peachstar tended to do that to him so he just brushed it off. He was just happy the leader seemed to be warming up to him. He hadn’t tried to send him away once yet; they’d gotten to the patiently humouring him point. Next stop, marriage and children.
Speaking of marriage and children, Pastelchaos was the next to walk in, playing it off cool that, as per usual, he was the last to arrive at an important event. "Sorry, lovers," he meowed with a casual shrug as he strutted in, his tail sweeping through the air. He was quite sure that at least one of them would be irritated that that's how he chose to refer to the duo. He then glanced to Hoarsehoof, and he gave the other tom a nod. "Sorry lovers and Hoarshoof," he corrected with a nod, before glancing back at the others with a chuckle. "You know what they say, fatherhood can be quite time consuming. But you know that Rosy, don't you?" he meowed, offering the medicine cat a wink. "And I mean, I guess you do, too, Peachyboy. Isn't one of your kids borderline indestructable but only in the least convinient times?" He liked to use any opportunity he could to prove he was somewhat paying attention to the leader, even when he wasn't sure the details were correct. "Anyways, the kittens kept me a little distracted. Did you see the jingle jangler that I got Strawberrykit? She's just so cute with it. It matches her little orange fur so well, and between you and me, it's nice to be able to hear her coming. And then after I gave it to her, Thistlekit showed me the little experiment he had done to that prey. It was quite anatomically correct, and I'm just so proud of them. I can't believe I've waited so long to have kids, they're all just so perfect," he meowed with a dreaminess in his voice - he had created a nice little family sort of not at all - before remembering that he was here not to provide Rosy and Peach with gushing updates on the kittens he'd found on the side of the road.
"Right, what's all of this?" he suddenly meowed, before taking his seat in between Hoarsehoof and Peachstar.
Peachstar suddenly felt very ill. Perhaps it was the thought of Pastelchaos becoming a father and raising a hoard of mini-Pastelchaos's to ruin his life, or perhaps it was the massive wall of text that had suddenly appeared before him. "I am not reading that massive wall of text," he declared, and took in a deep breath of sweetly-scented air. He gave Hoarsehoof an idle pat on the flank before he began.
"Right, yes," Peachstar said, "tally ho, lads, off we go, jolly good, what what. Alright, well, thusly, as such, indeed." He nodded sagely.
“Oh, don’t worry,” Rosy told Peach happily, “I’ll translate. Pastel said being a daddy was hard work, as you know, and then he winked at me and said I also know what it’s like to be a daddy, which I think is very sweet and affirming because really I don’t, and then I think he insulted your son again, which he likes to do, and also he got somebody called Strawberrykit some sort of jingly contraption, and she has orange fur. Overall,” he announced happily, like he were reaching the conclusion of a brilliant essay, “I think he’s enjoying being a papa.” He smiled around at the three of them, sitting tall, proud, happy as a peach and waiting for praise. “Oh!” he amended suddenly, like it was so important. “And he called us lovers, which I think is just lovely. And I think we should act on that as our first order of business. Shall we call this meeting to order?” He smiled around again and slammed a gavel against the ground, which he had. “Alright — Peachstar. Second thing:” he turned to him, still smiling, “what the hell was that?”
He squinted at Peachstar, before nodding to Rosy. "Excellent summary, you'd be a great personal assistant. I'll keep that in mind for when I write that book," he meowed with a purr. He wasn't exactly sure if he'd made his plans to write his book based off of their bizarre group dream explicit. In fact, he was half sure he'd never even hinted at it out loud. Oh well, it wasn't like the other two could ever reasonably be expected to follow him.
He then nodded eagerly. "Yes, meeting commenced," he then added, as if they needed his permission to continue or something. "Also a very good question. Wow, Peachy, Rosy's kinda killing it today, and you're doing... whatever it is you're doing. Are you having some sort of medical emergency? That would technically be our job to fix, right?"
If Peachstar and Rosyclementine were going to learn anything today (which they probably weren't) it was that they should never invite him to a meeting.
"Oh boy, I love readi—! Medical emergency?" Uhhhhh ROSY exclaimed, immediately springing to his paws and turning on Peachstar, blocking out everything else — there was just medical emergency. "Mouth to mouth?" He'd been trying to initiate that for ages, but Peachstar never seemed to choke long enough to justify it. Maybe today would be the day. He was so ready. He looked from Pastelchaos to Peachstar desperately. "Mouth to mouth?" he whispered, brows pushed together, pleading.
Peachstar's chest was heaving, for some reason. He looked from Rosyclementine, to Pastelchaos, to Hoarsehoof, to the shadowey figure sitting at the back of the den, then back to Rosyclementine. "mouth to mouth," he whispered, "i think i might be dying..."
"If anyone should be able to give him mouth-to-mouth, it's me," Pastelchaos pouted. He had had dibs on giving Peachstar a big ol smooch since the day ian created him. But, he wasn't going to lie, the shadow-y figure sort of intimidated him, so he was probably fine staying right where he was. He was a new dad - he couldn't be murdered by some shadowy thing just because he wanted a little smoochin. He glanced back to Peachstar, watching him nearly croak. "But, I guess you're closer. You should do it now, I think he's turning blue, and in my professional medical opinion, that's not a good sign."
"This is an odd argument to be having while our leader is dying," Hoarsehoof neighed, tossing his head.
Rosy leaned down towards Peachstar, closer, and closer, and closer, applying bubblegum scented lip gloss as he drew closer, and closer, and closer, and—
