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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Which was good, since they had absolutely no say in the matter and the decorating was mainly up to the pimply teens decorating the shop windows with the instructions sent down by marketing.
Rosyclementine was as happy as he'd ever been; he was really starting to feel at home here. He was with the two cats he loved most in the world and they had all this to themselves, three handsome kings of the mall. He was trotting around said mall after hours; there was only the odd cleaner riding a floor polisher with headphones on, unaware of the stray cats that had taken up residence. One in particular had a name tag that said Rebecca. The sound of electronic whirring filled the mall. He'd started in the food court, where he'd trotted along the counters and then hopped from table to table, knocking over a sad potted fern that smashed on the shiny white floor. Then he'd gone around alongside the drop to the floors below, past a shop that made fruit smoothies and glowing signs about sales, and ridden the escalator down, smiling all the whole. Then he went through a games shop that had a little gap in the security gate they dragged down at 5pm, and a supermarket (where he took some meals from the refrigerator for his friends), rode about on a tiny car for a bit — and now he was sliding across the shining floor, his fluffy paw pads sending him flying. He slid all the way to the Chuck E Cheese — and then, like he was stepping off a conveyer belt, he hopped off and padded into the dim, stinking restaurant, looking around with a smile.
"HELLOOOOOOO," he called. Cheese stains darkened the bright, eye-sore patterns of the tables, laminated with the sort of plastic that stuck to your arms and made them burn. Ominous, echoing thuds came from the colourful child play tunnels. All in all, as he padded through the empty, cluttered restaurant, with its too-much furniture and low lighting and creepy silence, the ambience was horrible. And he was right at home. "Anyone HEEEEEEERE?"
Maybe everyone was at the cinema. He hadn't gotten an invitation, though. His face fell; he imagined all his friends laughing watching a movie and he felt sad. Of course he, Pastelchaos and Peachblush had plans for the newcomers they were enticing to the mall like treacherous fairies, but it was still sad to imagine them having fun without him. In the distance, he heard the bark of a velociraptor echo through the vast, empty mall; but it was probably just an ad for Jurassic World: Dominion playing on loop on the 7th floor.
He was in the kitchen when he heard the sound of the other. Of course, he hadn't been doing anything in the kitchen, really, at least nothing that couldn't be stopped for what was certainly going to be more entertaining.
"HELLLLLLOOOOOOOOOOOOO, someone's HEEEEEEERE, and it's one of your FAVORITE SOMEONES," he responded, his yell no less than slightly obnoxious. He poked his head out of the back room, the little thing making his way over to Rosy with little haste. While the others had gone their separate ways for the day, Pastelchaos had spent most of it looking at the giant rat statue. It sure was ugly, but it was also fascinating. For the tom who had once started a ferris wheel by pressing buttons, the rat was also something he had grown strangely devoted to. After all, it looked like it had to move, and eventually, Pastelchaos would figure out how. After a long time of looking, though, he'd made his way into the kitchen. Peach and Rosy probably expected him to do something productive there, but today, it was just a good place to nap. And then, when he had arisen from his nap, he'd started his investigation into what trouble he could get into in the room. Which, dear reader, takes us to the exact point of time we are at now.
Pastelchaos waited a little too long for Rosy's response, his eyes expectant, before realizing that oh, he hadn't said anything at all. Even though his brain fog was getting noticably better since they traveled further away from DayClan, he still wasn't quite... right. Not that Pastelchaos had ever been quite right.
"What I was saying," he wasn't saying anything at all, "was that I ain't got a clue where the other ones are. For all I know, they're off stealing some new prizes for our prize wall. Hope Peachy brings us back something real nice," he meowed finished, before glancing around. "Just as possible that they're in here too, I guess. HELLLOOOOO IS ANYONE ELSE HERE?" he then yelled, letting his gaze shift across the dim restaraunt.
"Oh, I am in here," Veloxraptor, almost as if they materialized from the sticky, dirty ground below, spoke from behind Pastelchaos and Roseyclementine, voice a low, cheerful whisper. Usually, Veloxraptor didn't do anything at all unless they were trailing behind others, poking into their conversations even when they weren't welcome, swinging an arm around the shoulders of their companions even when said companions cringed away. Usually, when they were alone, they moped around or tried to sleep, but it never felt right, it was always too lonely, too cold, too. . . uncuddly. So, instead, they roamed the mall to pass the time, ignoring time and the need to sleep with it because, really, a few sleepless nights weren't anything to cause a fuss about, even when the world was partly blurred around them and they almost tripped with every step.
"I'm always here." They whispered again, shoving themselves in between the two and wrapping their arms around both of their shoulders, pulling them close. "Stop yelling, you'll awaken the cheese beast." They were talking about the rat statue, of course, but they thought it was alive — it always looked like it was. Sometimes, they thought they heard it moving around at night, but they were always careful to avoid it. Or maybe it was just the entourage of other cats that (somehow) found their way into the mall. Who cared, certainly not Veloxraptor. Besides, the statue always reminded him of rodents they weren't even sure existed at all — prehistoric rodents. Why? Who knew, certainly not Veloxraptor.
"Anyway, I'm here to contact you on your — wait. Wrong lines. I need you two for a survey. The question is: do you sometimes wish you were born with feathers, but not in a 'I want to fly' way but more in a 'it just feels right and also I'm scared of heights so why would I want to fly, but I still feel like I should have been born with feathers instead of fur,' type of way. If you answer honestly — correctly — you'll be rewarded as the 50th and 51st answers of this survey, respectively. This is very important." There was no survey. Veloxraptor only hoarded the answers for themselves and hoped that someone would answer yes so it made them seem more normal about it. Veloxraptor lied about the survey. And the cookies. But they didn't know that.
HELLLLLLOOOOOOOOOOOOO, someone's HEEEEEEERE, and it's one of your FAVORITE SOMEONES. Rosy's face immediately brightened, a cartoonishly bright smile appearing on his face as he watched Pastelchaos toddle over to him on his quick little legs, his neck tilting more and more down the closer he came. He was always happy to see him. Really, since coming to the mall, Pastelchaos has blossomed; this change in locale had been a good thing for everyone. Maybe not Peach, since it was hard to get a grasp on his mental state after the gas leak in Old DayClan, but for the rest of them. "Oooooh, the prize wall!" he whispered in awe. He turned his head to look at it. A single rotting framed diploma squeaked lopsided on a nail and then fell and smashed on the ground. "I love that thing." When his former apprentice shouted, Rosy padded closer to him and looked around as he waited for a response, smiling with his top fangs caught over his lips like a happy snake. Pastelchaos was so short that he could stand behind him and see everything completely fine.
And then Veloxraptor's clawed hands paws were on his shoulder. Rosy let out a nervous, close-mouthed giggle as he was dragged close; he always felt nervous and flustered around them, mainly because, as was his wont, he had a massive crush. They were just so charming. Deranged, too, but he loved deranged — the best kind of charm was the deranged kind. Rosy tucked an imaginary strand of hair behind his ear, all red on top of ginger, and shivered at their whisper. They needed him. He laughed again, a stupid sound like a bubble. "All the time," he gushed, turning his head as much as he could in their grip to look at them. He would have agreed to everything; he wasn't even listening. He liked their crazy voice; he would have listened to them read the phonebook, or tear it apart and eat it. "Oh, wow," Rosy gushed again, laughing and glancing at Pastelchaos like he was saying aren't they hot, "the 51st, huh? That's, like, my favourite number. I love feathers."
Pulling away from them, he tried to lounge against one of the chair legs; instead, because he was heavier than the chair, it just scraped away with a shriek and he fell off balance, half falling on the floor before he managed to catch himself. He laid down instead, like a French model, looking up at them goofily; his voice was cartoonishly flirty, eyes trying to be hooded but just looking silly instead. "Um. We — Pastelchaos and I — were gonna go look around," he waved his paw so casually in the air, like he didn't care at all, "for our friends. Did you wanna, like... come?" He shrugged, brows up, drawing circles on the dirty floor with his paw and acting disinterestedly aloof.
"It's really good, isn't it?" he meowed. Coming to the mall had been good for him. Whereas in DayClan, he had a purpose, he had things he needed to accomplish and sins to atone for, here? He could go back to normal, or at least, what was normal for him. Normal for him, of course, was dangerous. Unfettered by rules and laws, no inward conception of morality, Pastel was once again free. He hadn't felt free for a long time. Of course, he'd traded in his freedom to join Peach, and he would have done it again, but the mall renewed his chaotic tendencies, and he was relieved to drop the act. "One of these days, I'm gonna win us something good. See that big animal there," he meowed, pointing to a bear. "I think it would be a great addition to our nest." It was the ugliest thing he had ever seen, and it probably had asbestos, but that was okay. One certainly didn't have to be perfect to join the family.
When Veloxraptor touched him, Pastelchaos jumped slightly. "Oh!" he squeaked. "Ya startled me there," he meowed, tone a little awkward. Waking up the cheese beast? "Oh, Charles over there? Luckily for us, that's exactly what I want to do! I've been trying all day, but he doesn't seem to want to cooperate with me." He frowned slightly, before shrugging. "But, one day!" There was a little shudder of excitement that ran down his back; one day, he would make contact with the abandoned creature, and it would be the best day of his life.
"Oh, feathers? Well, can't say I've ever thought about that," he then remarked with a blink. "Hmm, see, they're kinda cool, but also the feather's that Peachy made us wear were kinda itchy. But, birds don't grey the way cats do, so maybe feathers would be a good thing," he decided after a moment, before letting out a purr of amusement when his former mentor spoke. He then leaned towards their ear. "Don't mind Rosy over there. He sees a looker and his brain shortcircuits. It's amazing he's lasted with Peachy and I so long, given how stunning we are." He couldn't help but let out a childish laugh, a reminder that no matter how old he was, he was never going to have more maturity than your average apprentice.
He then caught the sparks from the corner of his eye. His head snapped in the direction. It was always so easy to distract him. "Would ya look at that. Are we obligated to.... help? Or can we just watch Moonleer get pummeled?"
When Pastelchaos pointed to the bear, Rosy swivelled around excitedly to look at it. His face lit up. “Oh wow!” he exclaimed again. “That bear looks great! It’ll look so good in our nest and be such a perfect substitute for the children of Peach’s we had to leave behind in Old DayClan.” He looked back at Pastel and dropped his voice to a whisper. “I know he says he’s fine but it has to be rough, losing leadership for, what, the third, fourth time?” He looked genuinely worried for their boyfriend that Peach definitely was. Then his face suddenly brightened. “I know! We should throw him a party to show how much we all care about him!” Parties always went well in the shows he watched through the display windows of the electronics shops — shows like Pretty Little Liars and The Vampire Diaries (which he was hooked on and totally thought Aria was A, because why else would one of the main characters’ names start with A? He’d made a whole presentation to Pastel about it), where things like proms and founders’ balls and Halloween parties always went spectacularly well and didn’t dissolve into murder, chaos and general tomfoolery.
Cut to the almost-present. As Pastel talked about the giant rat statue, Rosy gave an apologetic laugh and glanced sheepishly at Veloxraptor, like a spouse might apologise for their eccentric husband’s propensity for talking about Prince Charles like they were on a first name basis. “He keeps calling the rat ‘he’, I don’t know why.” Then he frowned at Pastel indignantly, ever the suck-up to Peach even when he wasn’t here. “I liked the feathers!” He looked at Veloxraptor and the stupid grin was back on his face, his paw returning to twirling imaginary hair and his top fangs still poking out. “You would’ve loved it,” he said in a dumb voice. He sees a looker and his brain shortcurcuits. “I do not!” he exclaimed, wounded and affronted while his brain shortcurcuited at the proximity to so many lookers.
From the floor, Rosy managed to drag his eyes away from Veloxraptor to glance at Moonleer fighting the car. He laughed dismissively, like the cat was just an errant child despite probably being older than him. “Oh, he’s fine! He does this all the time.” He looked back at Veloxraptor and repeated with a laugh, “he does this aaaall the time. So. Wanna come with? Once we find enough we can start planning the,” he dropped his voice to a whisper and over-accentuated the word with his mouth, “party.” Just in case Peach-no-star was listening.
The rise in voices had caused Shoeman to twitch considerably. It wasn't like him to be so unprepared around others. For the life of him he could not find his shoes. It was so incredibly unacceptable and had him visibly shaking. He wove circles around the others, frantically searching to amd fro for those blasted shoes. "BY GOD, AS ANYONE SEEN MY SHOES?!" His pace began to quicken as he looked to no avail, for shoes that perhaps never existed in the first place. A slow thought began formulating in his mind. "Did.... did someone.. touch my shoes?" With wild eyes he began eyeballing everyone that was nearby, looking quite unhinged.
