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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His tail twitched in anticipation. Figuring out how to climb the social ladder would be a source of entertainment for the tom, and if higher class meant higher privileges, that opened up so many new doors for his namesake. He sighed at the slight jab, but then nodded. "I'm just so ready to atone for my sins you just don't even know," he meowed, fighting the urge to wink. "What other arrangement?"
"We'll put you in the maverick class," Peachstar said, looking Pastelchaos up and down, "because honestly, I think you'd even call yourself a maverick, wouldn't you? From there, you'll enter a redemption program that will eventually allow you to join the next class, the peacekeepers." A redemption program I haven't thought of yet, he reminded himself.
"Oh yes, there is one more thing I should tell you about." Peachstar paused. "Perhaps you've already felt it, but...does the forest that this quartet of Clans live in not feel slightly different to other forests to you?"
"I'm choosing to take that as a compliment," he asserted with a nod. "It is quite fitting, innit? I am quite unorthodox." Perhaps it would do him well to change that, but in all honesty, he probably wouldn't. "Maverick to peacekeeper, is there anything after that?" he then asked, more out of curiosity than ambition. If he was going to stay here, he might as well learn all there was to the group.
Pastelchaos' ears perked at the next thing the tom said, his head tilting slightly like a puppy who was just learning his name for the first time. "I mean, the fog that separates the forest from the mountain clans is a bit intense. And, I know that the four groups seem to have their own ... troubles. Wasn't there that big call out over kitten abuse at some point? You know me, I don't pay much attention to politics. But other than that, I'm not sure what you mean?"
"Peacekeepers, then socialites above them," Peachstar replied. He purposefully didn't mention imperials. If Pastelchaos ever became an imperial, he'd have to kill himself.
"The fog is what I was referring to," he said, "or more specifically, the...specific properties the fog has."
He nodded, peacekeepers, then socialites. If he ever got promoted to peacekeeper, he'd have to work up to socialite. After all, peace-keeping was directly against every moral that the tom had. A socialite would fit better. And plus, if he could work all of the way up, that would prove to Peachstar that he wasn't as bad as the other tried to make him out to be.
After Peachstar finished, Pastelchaos stared at him expectantly for at least fifteen seconds of painfully awkward silence, his gaze boring into the other. "... And those properties would be?" he finally, his tone a little incredulous. "Ya can't keep me hanging like that, Peachy. It just isn't fair! You know how much I hate anticipation." He really did hate anticipation, and it was probably why he was as impulsive as he was. If one just did whatever they wanted when they wanted, went through life bouncing from one thing without making a single plan, one could circumvent the issue of anticipation entirely.
"Well, it can vary from cat to cat," Peachstar said, enjoying the way he was making Pastelchaos uncomfortable. "And from Clan to Clan too, but the main idea to wrap your head around is that the fog grants some cats certain...abilities that other cars don't have."
"Abilities?" This moment would be the point of no return, the moment that the tom fell down the rabbit hole that his life in DayClan would be. He stood on the edge of it, like Alice debating if he should enter wonderland. There was a part of him that said he needed to turn back now. The other, more important part, missed his friend and wanted to make things up to him. "Like... are they really good at hunting or something?"
"If I wasn't on a path to better myself, I'd be tempted to punch you in the face right now, just so you know. But, since I'm a New and Improved Pastelchaos, I'm going to just squint at you." To demonstrate, he squinted intensely at the other. "Get out with it. If there's something I need to know, it's best I know it now. If it's something important, you probably should just tell me, because otherwise, you're going to be stuck cleaning up after me when I inevitably mess something up and a cat unleashes their ... abilities." Pastelchaos had no reason to know that in that moment, he was making an eerily correct assumption of what would happen to him in the coming days.
"Some cats have powers," Peachstar said, very simply. "But it's fine, really. They're not really powers that can be used offensively." Well, Lionpaw's was, but he chose to keep that to himself. "My son has one, for example."
"... Powers? What is this, a comic book?" he asked, as if a cat would know what a comic book was. Pastelchaos didn't really find the tom's next words very comforting. Not really was not the same as not. "Are you sure you didn't drink some poisoned water or somethin? Are you feverish?" Instincitvely, the tom moved his tail to the other's head. "Nope, not feverish. Alright, I'll play along then if this isn't some weird fever dream of yours. First of all, which son?" He knew all of Peachstar's children from that litter. "And what power?"
"Melonspring," Peachstar said, moving Pastelchaos's tail off his head with a barely-suppressed grimace, "is completely indestructible, unable to be physically harmed...if he's in freefall. The rest of the time he's the same old squishy Melonspring."
"I'm sorry, but what the hell?" Well, he supposed it made sense. After all, the last free fall he took ended quite horrifically for him. Pastelchaos resisted the urge to make a comment about how that would have been helpful, oh, say, nine months before. "Good for him, I guess," he then meowed, a little bit of a chuckle in his voice. This had to be a joke, and since Pastelchaos was quite sure it was a joke, he found himself excited at the prospect of the game of pretend they had spontaneously embarked upon. "Are all of the powers so... weird? Restricted? Completely-unhelpful-98.7%-of-the-time?"
No, Peachstar thought. "Mostly," Peachstar said, "so like I said, these powers can't really be used offensively. I recommend pretending they don't exist for a bit, honestly. That's what I did when I was new to all of it." He deliberately didn't mention Lionpaw. That was a conversation for another thread day.
It had been three weeks since Pastelchaos had settled in, and they had felt like the longest three weeks of his life. Training the kid - the one whose powers certainly were not defensive - had taken more of his mental energy than he had expected. And now, Peachstar wanted to meet him again? This couldn't be good - normally it was Pastel who made contact with Peachstar, not vice versa. He let out a sigh, before sticking his nose in the Leader's den. "You in there?"
"Ah, Pastelchaos," Peachstar said, jaw tensed. "Come in. I had something I wanted to talk to about regarding your redemption program. And it doesn't involve Lionpaw, so you don't have to worry about that."
Pastelchaos flicked his ear as he padded in. "Oh, great," he meowed, trying unsuccessfully to hide the sarcasm in his voice. He was oh so excited about his last assignment, and he couldn't imagine this would would be much better, given that the leader seemed to like to torture him. He found himself seated in front of the leader, his weird eyes shifting around the den. "So what is it? Have I done such a good job that I'm automatically promoted to Imperial or something?"
Peachstar semi-successfully resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Something like that," he said, "but also not really like that at all." Then he paused, just because he knew Pastelchaos hated it.
