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!
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 Jul 24, 2019 13:28:50 GMT -5
For a mad cat, Funk sure knew how to work. What started as him maintaining the Greenhouse now ended up with him as Shaman. He could picture Mother E'tani laughing at him. When they first met, he ridiculed the position to no end, and now he had to pretend to be some descendant of a broad he didn't care about. And take care of a group he didn't care for. What a bad lot. Luck had not smiled on him the moment he met that she-cat.
But, man, the greenhouse has not looked better. Well, it did when twolegs took care of it. But he got a solid second place. The broken glass had been cleaned up and buried near the house, still accessible if some idiot wanted to play with it. Most of the vines and overgrowth had been cut down, but most near the roof was still in tact. And he had a solid garden of herbs. Half growing in the greenhouse and half out, to see the differences. Sure, he got far more help from rebellious trainees than he expected, but he found that most just needed someone to listen to them and something to burn their frustration on. And he had a lot of weeds and a great capacity to zone out, so win win.
Unfortunately, some needed to let go of the stress of the daily lives of torturing those around them or make asinine love noises at each other. And they always ended up here. Mostly adults, the occasional trainee but they knew how much Funk hated that and went somewhere else. Just like today. Today, he had brought a bucket found in the greenhouse to a stream and filled it with water. Dangling a leaf filled with water from his jaws, he rocked his head back and forth as he watered. Completely focused on his task, he stopped when he heard soft pawsteps approaching. He sighed, dropping the leaf and the water in a pile at his feet. Huffing in frustration, he stepped over it and headed out of the greenhouse.
"Hey, go swap spit or cry somewhere else. No one wants to see it." He growled, not knowing who it was and not caring. He was the Shaman! Only wanting to be bothered when cats were dying, if then.
Eshek stopped with one paw in the air, snapping her head up and out of her own thoughts to look around for the voice. "I wasn't planning on crying today," she replied, in that sort of voice that arises from sheer confusion and struggling to play along with a situation one is utterly lost in, "but I can give it a shot." She suddenly sat down, raised her muzzle to the sky, and began sobbing, growing louder and louder and more dramatic until she was screaming and bawling at the top of her lungs and tears were pooling at her paws. "It's not fair!" she wailed - or, rather, shrieked - as she collapsed onto the ground. "How was I supposed to know he had a wi-i-i-i-fe?"
She suddenly broke off, wiping the tears from her eyes with one paw and humming with exhausted, satisfied laughter. "Just kidding, I stole his wife. A-ha." She hiccuped another laugh, let out a contented sigh, and smiled, holding out one paw for him to kiss. "I don't believe you've had the pleasure. I'm Eshek, and I— just remembered I have no interest in you." She smiled. "I'm here for some herbs of the adult variety. Ta-ra!" With that, she trotted past him into the greenhouse, humming as she went.
Post by strawberrycupid on Jul 25, 2019 18:29:44 GMT -5
"and I'm the one who grows those adult herbs, so I suggest you shut it before you regret it." Funk spun on his heel, quickly blocking Eshek from going any further into his greenhouse. He had worked hard and wasn't gonna let some trust fund she-cat ruin it. He'd noticed that in the morning, some of his herbs had been ripped off. Suspecting someone had been sneaking in and stealing them, he solicited the trainees to find out who it was. But none of them fessed up, and all lost their adult herb privilege. Well, least they were growing well until someone tore them up. She could easily be one, but just as easily not.
"Pleasures all yours. Funk. Shaman. Now kindly leave, cause I'm already tired of seeing you." He had no fear, sounding more bored than anything else. It didn't matter who it was, he was rarely afraid. Cause he simply could not fail.
Eshek stopped and stared for a long moment, one claw peeking out of its sheath, before bursting into delighted laughter. "Feisty!" Her smile widened and sharpened as he introduced himself. "Shaman, are you? We-heh-h-ell!" She swatted him on the leg with her paw, the touch light for a once-torturer but rough for any cat outside Primal Instinct. "Look at you, climbing up the ranks in your very first week in the League!" She cooed the last half of the sentence before breaking into another laugh. "Yeah, okay, anyway, I'm just gonna slide on past aaaaaand grab a few things." She flashed him a sickly sweet grin as she slowly squeezed past him into the greenhouse. "Don't make me hurt you," she whispered through her teeth when her face was less than an inch from his, still grinning.
Post by strawberrycupid on Jul 26, 2019 20:56:04 GMT -5
"No, you're not." This was about how he expected his first interactions with the hunters to go, but she was doing a good job at making him mad. Once again, he jumped in front of her, facing her rather than blocking her, his expression not changing. "Look idiot. I'm the only one that can maintain this place and patch you up when you inevitably shatter that empty skull of yours, so I'd suggest not getting on my bad side and leaving. Cause, really, this stuff is useless to me, it's for you tweaker cats who're about a plant away from selling your worthless soul to it. I can burn them, uproot them, drown them whatever, and you'll have a harder time getting your fix and if you take your anger out on me, you get to deal with Mother. So again. Leave." It would technically make his business more interesting if he took out this supply. As it becomes rarer, the demand will rise, and Funk can get more out of these pitiful creatures for even a small amount. Either way, maybe Eshek will realize the last person you want to fight is the dealer.
Eshek stared at him in dumb shock through the whole of his spiel. But at the mention of being an addict, she let out a huge, affronted gasp and stepped backwards, one paw over her heart. “I am not a tweaker,” she replied, voice breathy with indignation. Every other insult, everything about having an empty skull and being worthless and an idiot, that was all fine — her self-esteem was healthy and she knew it wasn’t true. But tweaker? She was fine! She could stop any time she wanted! She just happened to like it as a coping mechanism. God. “What, you—you think your stuff is special or something? You think I can’t get it anywhere? Your stuff sucks! I could literally walk, like, three feet in any direction and find herbs better than yours. I could walk blind-folded to the nearest trainee and they would be able to give me, like, your weight in better stuff. You are so pretentious, d’you know that? Oh, I’m the Shaman! I’m important! Gimme a break, dude. You’re a slave to the League, just like the rest of us.”
By this point, she was all up in Funk’s business, nose practically pressed against his. She drew her lips back into a snarl, eyes wild and whiskers twitching— and then suddenly smiled. “Whaaaaat if weeeeee raid your stash together? Get your mind off being a complete git for a hot second? Must be tiring.”
Post by strawberrycupid on Jul 29, 2019 18:16:03 GMT -5
"I know it's easily accessible and well grown, which is good for most of you." He gently pushed her back with his paw. Now that he had suddenly become a trainee advocate, they liked to hang out around here. It was annoying, and whatever trainees she was getting stuff from, probably came from him. "And I know, you think I'm here of my own free will? We're all slaves, so naturally we spend our time tearing each other apart rather than do anything about it. We're all pawns in Mother's game. Ugh, I hate it." He turned away, his claws digging uselessly into the tiled floor out of anger. His opinion on Mother was obvious, now that he had to suddenly work with her and he couldn't even get her on his medicine. What was the point? This little house was the only redeeming grace.
"And no, this stuff does nothing for me nowadays." His immune system was so screwed thanks to self testing and medication, he could eat all the death berries in the world and not feel a single step closer to death. "Give and take. What can you offer me?"
Eshek curled her lip, sitting back and leaning backwards in disgust. “I’m not a pawn,” she replied, sneering the word out like it was something sticky and awful. “I’m an artiste. Well, I was, till I, y’know, resigned from my dream job and made myself queen of the paper-pushers. God, it’s—“
She moved closer, like Funk had already agreed to listen to her vent and he was somehow on the same wave length, and sat down uncomfortably close to him. She went on like she’d forgotten he was there, or like he was just an old friend that had known her all her life. “Y’know, it’s... it’s just ridiculous, y’know? Like, I’m the best torturer in the League, I put so much pride into my work, I make it into an artform — alright? An artform — and then I—I get stuck with this? With being in charge of a bunch of losers who wound up in Foreign Affairs because they couldn’t make it in any other district?” She moved closer. “Lemme tell ya, if I had had to deal with any of them in the Crypt, I would’ve killed them and then myself. Still might.” She laughed and shook her head, sucking on her teeth and staring out at the middle distance. She smacked her lips and raised her brows, letting out a sigh like the weight of the world had just been lifted from her shoulders. With a smack on his shoulders, she smiled and added, “hey, thanks for listening, buddy. You’re the best.”
She was silent for a long moment, lost in her own thoughts with her foreleg still draped across Funk’s shoulders, before she realised he was waiting for an answer. “Oh! Well. Name your price, doc.”
Post by strawberrycupid on Aug 1, 2019 13:36:44 GMT -5
More or less pinned down, he was forced to zone out through Eshek's sob story. Gee, she had no tenacity if she's given up just like this. How sad, not. If you're not willing to do whatever it takes to change your lot in life, hand your cards back to the dealer, then you may as well accept it and go cry somewhere else. Preferably not the Greenhouse, where all the pitiful cats came and cried to a god Funk who doesn't care. He had his own worries, like who kept pulling up his garden and finding someone willing to cut out their heart for him. A perfect pawn. Funk wanted to challenge Mother at her own game after all, otherwise it'd be far too boring to stick around. That's what gods did when they were bored.
"Oh boo hoo. If you want to go back to the Punishment district so bad, just kill that pipsqueak Proxy and take her place. Simple." Hell, just bring back her head and she could take as many herbs as she wanted and get her spot back. A win win, truly, "Otherwise, just accept your paper pusher life and shut up about it."
Not for the first time this interaction, Eshek let out a stunned half-laugh and stared at Funk with a smile playing about her mouth, utterly floored. She dragged herself off him and sat back on her hindlegs like a meerkat. “You’ve got some nerve, y’know? I mean, me? Hurt that pipsqueak Proxy?” She was suddenly in Funk’s face, claws a hair from his eyes and laughter high and manic despite her snarl. “She is a goddess!”
She sat back just as suddenly, sinking her claws into the earth and looking around with a purr. “How about you accept the fact that you’re always gonna be free therapy for this whole bunch of screwed up cats and get over it? I mean—“ she laughed, “—you’re basically just a shrink, look at you! Doling out medicine to the hoards of hunters with mummy issues and too much blood on ther paws. No, wait, that’s just me— ha! But, no, I mean, I get it. It makes you feel powerful, doesn’t it? Like you matter ‘cause you can take away cats’ pain and give them whole new ones. I get that. It’s lame, but I get it. We all need a lil’ something to stroke our egos and distract is from the horrible loneliness of our meaningless existences.”
She smiled. “Anyway, keep your stupid herbs.” She flopped down on the earth and rested her forepaws on her chest, looking up at the clouds. “Tell me a story.”
Post by strawberrycupid on Aug 6, 2019 17:41:19 GMT -5
"She's. A. Cat. The only goddess who would choose a form like that is no goddess who should be worshiped." He once again raised his paw to push her away, only for her to sit back on her own accord. Instead, he wiped the spit and such off his face, flicking the droplets off with his wrist. Always, huh. Yeah right. This was just one step in his long journey. It wouldn't be long until he was out of here. Just like before. You can only keep a bird caged for so long. But he'd stick around for now. The League was definitely entertaining. Full of curious characters, who thought this was fun to him. The only entertaining thing were the people here. Especially this one, the proxy named Eshek. With her head so far twisted in, she could see her own innards.
"Last I checked, nothing has been doled. Instead, only stole. Even if I am just some shrink--some whackjob who grows and sells and give it to others to make them feel pain; it's better than being like you. Someone too spineless to take destiny into her own hands and can only rely on this to dull the pain. The end. Now leave." He turned away, ready to tear every single one of those mangled plants out. In fact, he did, grabbing onto the base of one and pulling. It's roots hanging now uselessly in the air.
Eshek let out a sharp laugh as she watched the Shaman tear up his own business. "You really are just gonna keep on insulting me, huh? Probably hoping you're gonna find some weak, sore point you can exploit to your own dastardly ends. Well, bad news, boyo: I don't got no weak points that I don't already know about one hundred and fifty thousand percent, 'cause I gave up the second my mama pushed me out into this nasty ol' world."
Another laugh bubbled out past her teeth. "Kudos for trying, though - it's cute that you have such a high opinion of your own importance when, really," she slunk over to him and hooked his cheek with one claw, giving it a rough little shake and finishing in a cooing voice, "you're just down here in the gutter with the rest of us, sweetie pie."
Post by strawberrycupid on Aug 12, 2019 16:48:05 GMT -5
"Got nothing better to do. What am I supposed to do, compliment you." Funk spat out and shrugged, taking the plant over to the side. He was inspecting it when Eshek hooked his cheek and gave him the 'you're trapped in here with us' line. But was he really? Weren't they trapped with him? Food for thought.
Either way, he pulled Eshek's claw out of his face, ignoring the prick of pain as blood began to pool the surface, "Thanks sweetums. I don't care. And you berating me isn't gonna get you a promotion. Or like anything other than some small satisfaction in your worthless life." Well, he cared a lot. They both knew that, but he needed to get this plant out of here now. Damn thing was a aphid hive, he couldn't have that. With that, he picked it up and left the greenhouse.
