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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11.06.2022 The site has been transformed into an archive. Thank you for all the memories here!
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Pastelchaos was the leader of the welcoming committee - a role he had assigned himself because no cat in their right mind would think it was a good idea for Pastelchaos to be one of the first cats one would interact with. After all, an afternoon with him was probably enough to scare any new recruits far, far away from SwiftClan. That didn't mean he didn't take his self-assigned role seriously, though. In fact, it was one of the only things the tom occupied his time with these days: finding new cats and forcing them to talk to him. He had heard there was a new cat to SwiftClan, a recruit who was somehow related to Cradlegrave but totally wasn't just him in a mustache or something. His name was Straybullet, and, unbeknownst to him, he had the full attention of Pastelchaos, who pranced over to him with a wild grin on his face. "Well hiya, stranger!" biyuu ☆彡
Straybullet looked the tom up and down with a none-too-impressed look on his face. "Mmm," he said, mouth set in a grim line. Was his first proper buddy in SwiftClan going to be a total nutcase? It seemed like the universe was conspiring to make his trip to the forest as...interesting as possible. Straybullet was determined to not let his stay in SwiftClan turn him into a total pessimist. "Hello, new Clanmate. Let me guess, your name must be...Sunfur, or....I dunno, Grassass or something."
“Oh, so you’re a funny guy, are ya?” the tom meowed suspiciously. He could only keel his demeanor up for a moment, though, before he let out a joyous purr. “Excellent, life’s been a little boring lately,” he meowed with what would have been a maniacal grin, if he didn’t look so damn cute doing it. This was not a lie. Pastelchaos had pretty much been in storage since biyuu went on hiatus. “You’re close, Straybullet,” he continued with a wink. Straybullet was not close. “My name’s Pastelchaos. Bet you can’t guess why.” The calico tom offer a silly little bow. “I’m supposed to show you around, or somethin’ like that.”
"I try to ride the uncomfortable line between being the funny guy and being a bully." Straybullet squinted at Pastelchaos. "Are you supposed to show me around, or did you make that up in your own head and start believing the lie somewhere along the way? Like a becoming-the-mask sort of way?"
“That, dearest Straybullet, is a question the new recruits don’t get to know the answer to. That’s Top Confidential Information, buddy, and you won’t get the clearance for that kind of info until at least your third week here.” He let out another laugh, before waving his tail in the others direction. “We’d better get going! Wouldn’t want to lose too much sunlight!”
"So it's the latter, then?" Straybullet replied drily, moving to follow Pastelchaos. "Alright, lead the way. I'm sure some of these cats around us will take notice of us leaving, so if anyone stumbles across my half-eaten corpse a few days from now they'll know who to blame. You didn't happen to give this kind of tour to an idiot named Cradlegrave, or something like that?"
He didn’t want to correct him, to say that SwiftClan was so here one minute gone the next that it was, in fact, very possible that by the time they found his body, they would have forgotten about him, especially with him being new. Instead, he let his ears peek at the sound of the other name. “I knew him, before he went … where ever he went.” His lips pursed; he genuinely didn’t know where Cradlegrave had gone. “Why, you know him?”
"Not as well as I thought I did," Straybullet grumbled. "I got intel from a family friend he'd hunkered down with some group of cats called SwiftClan, so I made the trek over here to catch up with him. I foolishly assumed he must've gotten over his wanderlust and settled down, only to arrive here and turns out he goddamn left a whole moon and a half ago. He probably saw me coming and noped out. And I bet he didn't goddamn tell anyone where he was going because he never did that back home either and why would he be a changed man now? Ass."
thanks for giving me a chance to invent straybullet's backstory on the spot
"Well, you found us, and nope, he didn't tell any of us where he was going," he meowed, interest flicking in his gaze. This interaction had the making of a fun detective movie. "One day he was here and the next," Pastelchaos paused to gesticulate wildly, "poof, like magic. No one batted an eye, 'cuz that's just what folks do 'round these parts," he meowed, attempting a terrible version of Cradlegrave's accent. "What are you lookin' for him for? Did he rob a bank? Steal someone's girlfriend? Wait, does he owe someone some money? Are you the cat IRS?" He looked shocked at the revelation that he might be helping a fed. "In that case, ain't never heard of him."
"Well he did kill, like, at minimum fifty people," Straybullet said, "but no, I'm looking for him because we're family. Unfortunately. Biologically, not in the hippy-dip way SwiftClan calls people family."
"Bad ass," the tom meowed with a grin. "You don't sound like the biggest fan o' him. Couldn't imagine why, certainly couldn't be the way he talks." The tom let out a chuckle, before blinking. "What are you, brothers? Is he your long lost dad? He was getting pretty old there at the end." No he wasn't, but speculating was fun for the tom.
Straybullet shuddered at the thought of being more closely related to Cradlegrave than he already was. "You're close. We're cousins," he replied, "his mother is my aunt. But enough about Mister Wanderlust. Do you have family here in SwiftClan, or are you a tagalong like me?"
He nodded thoughtfully. Cousins, so barely related. His ear then flicked at the question. No one had really asked him that before, he didn't think, which means ian had never considered how he had got here. Pastelchaos shrugged. "'Suppose you could say I'm a tagalong. They came barreling into my perfect nap spot, and I got kinda fond of the little dweebs, so when they left, I came with."
