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.
Post by strawberrycupid on Apr 1, 2020 1:07:57 GMT -5
Cleaver It was gracious, he couldn't help but think, to be given such a beautiful dress by his new god. He was no deity, nothing swirled around his paws as he stood in front of the mirror. Twisting this way and that, the fabric pulled this way and that. Smoothing out before folding in just the right places, he didn't dare to touch even the fringes of lace for fear of anything falling the slightest bit out of place. All he messed with was the once red bandanna around his neck. Even as he stared at it, he knew it was just a symbol of the past. One he was truly throwing away today.
Funk's claw ripped through the fabric like it was nothing, the two large shreds sliding off his shoulders and onto the floor. He replaced it with a necklace, each bead wove carefully as they shone black and white. A fitting compliment to his crimson red dress, to his new black and white life. His heart skipped a beat as he slipped out of the room.
It was uncultured to let the groom see the bride before the ceremony, but Funk hardly cared for the rules of the old world now. He just walked, not worried to look this way and that for him. They both knew where Funk was, and he always liked a challenge. His paws skidded to a stop, something resembling a puddle to his right. Funk couldn't help but look at his expression. At the stones on the necklace that weighed a ton each, at those light green eyes so filled with love. And of course, the coup de gras, the red splatter of his clothes. What was once his brimming and sugary brown bengal coat was now lovingly marred with blood. The pattern stretched across him like the deep gashes that ended her life, wide lines and scattered spots. Not even his face was spared, though his cheeks were smeared with the kisses of a god. It was dry by now, dying his look into something truly wicked and wonderful.
He couldn't feel bad, only giddy like a school girl as he walked away. Silhouette fading into the puddle, Funk's shoes tapped along the hard floor. Coming to another stop as he felt something beckoning him the other way. His eyes shone with something uncertain, something that read that the excitement was not just skin deep, as he pushed the door slightly with his paws. "Are you in here? You know better than to keep the impatient type like me waiting." Funk laughed, though the world around him revealed nothing.
He'd asked his kits to help him prepare for the ceremony... he wasn't sure if they were helping of their own free will or if he somehow compelled them to obey, but they had seemed willing enough when they came to his side. Sometimes it still startled him to see the tiny apparitions fade into existence beside him, looking so much like they had in life he could nearly forget they had passed on. His family was back at his side, clambering over each other to help; Alligatorkit perched on Critical's head as the fluffy tom swayed side to side, and together they groomed his fur neatly into place, tucking in each errant strand that blew out of place with each tidal wave of emotion crashing over him. Despite his best efforts, the grey upon his muzzle wasn't receding; he could not force the youth back into his appearance, could not find the heart to take away the worn lines creasing his face. They were a part of him now, for better or worse.
So much was a part of him now, but he never imagined who would be joining with him now. Mates were for life, right? Some of his had fallen apart long before his death, though, and he doubted this would be the exception... the god did not even know if he could die. Instead of fulfilling him, the thought ached, and he had to push it away. This was a happy occasion, and he would not let himself forget that. He looked up quickly as the door started to open, and one of his kits leaped to push it closed again, clicking her tongue in disappointment. Deal strolled toward the exit and leaned against it, keeping out of sight though his rumbling purr could be felt through the door.
"Would you laugh if I said I've just been waiting for you? Getting ready doesn't take me long anymore... one of the perks, I suppose," he called back, smiling to himself. "You know we can't meet yet. Go stand in your place now, I'll be ready in an instant... but wait, does the dress fit?"
Post by strawberrycupid on Apr 4, 2020 19:32:57 GMT -5
He was youthful in comparison. Eyes as bright as the day he opened them, bits of baby fat still stuck to his skull. But he walked these halls alone. He didn't want to see any of them anymore, they were just remnants of his past now. Admittedly, he also couldn't find any of them, all chased away for one reason or another. Funk didn't mind, loneliness suited him more. It really just made him all the more impatient. The logistics of it all hadn't crossed his mind, he just went. It didn't matter if he died before Deal, that he had no clue what he was getting into, that those he once loved were now dead and he wore their blood like cloth. Funk really couldn't give a damn. It's what made him a good bride.
"Hey. Watch it." He chided lightly as the door was pushed against him and he was forced out. The blood had dried already, but Funk still made sure nothing was smeared. It was precious, the last memories of a world he realized he scarcely knew. Lifting onto his back paws, he pressed his ear and forepaws onto the door. It still didn't budge, but he was almost relieved it didn't when Deal spoke. Waiting for him? Really? The Nemesis shouldn't be surprised, they were getting married. Still, his cheeks got rosier and he wondered if it was his or Deal's will.
"Boo. We really sticking with tradition then?" Of course, he still wanted his way. Even if he couldn't get it, especially actually. "Alright, but hey, isn't it the groom who's supposed to go stand and wait for the bride? That's the tradition." Not even the power he played with was going to stop Funk from being Funk. The kind to point out that kind of thinking with a light-hearted jab. The kind who wondered what exactly Deal was capable of. He was a little too happy as he hummed to himself, returning to his four paws. Something, someone actually, was beckoning him this way. "Hmm, I guess you'll have to find out when you see me. Ta ta for now, my dear." With that smile, he began to follow the shadow. Claws clicked on the ground until the sound dissipated into nothing.
