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Post by Bane on Mar 8, 2008 12:37:14 GMT -5
From somewhere, he found energy.
A store of energy his body had held until now. Her attack was lethal - yet as though none of his injuries were there, he managed duck out of the way. Her claws and lower body swiped at the air above his head - leaving her stomach nicely on view. In but moments, Bane thrust his head up into her chest, then drove himself to the right. The aim was the take her with him, and flip the picture - herself slamming back first into the floor, whilst he would land ontop of her, his claws digging into her shoulders, holding her pinned on the ground.
His breath was still dangerously ragged, yet he managed to calmly, quietly whisper in her ear.
"I don't know who you mean."
[/size]
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Post by Kest on Mar 13, 2008 19:33:35 GMT -5
"Oh, I think you do."
Kestrel's upper body was pinned. She seemed totally helpless--she could not reach any part of Bane with her teeth or front claws.
But when she spoke, her voice was like ice.
She lay still for a moment, drawing on energy reserves. She was neither as strong or as experienced in battle as Bane, but she was fast and had a lot of stamina.
In a sudden furious flurry of movement, Kestrel shifted, curled, and lashed out with a vicious kick. Her legs were strong from running and her claws were dangerously sharp; in such close quarters, Bane could be knocked off, or even disembowled.
"I think you know exactly who I mean," she hissed. |
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Post by Bane on Mar 14, 2008 18:53:27 GMT -5
It hit him hard in the stomach. He almost retched, but managed to keep himself upright and above her.
In but a whisper, he spoke again.
"You think I care what that bastard has said? He's a liar. And you're a fool for believing him. Would you believe a kit who told you that he's just killed a badger? Stop trying to provoke me. I've dealt with worse emotional taunts than your mind could ever come up with."
The talking made him feel weak. His throat was sore, his breathing heavy, trying to swallow whatever his stomach was trying to force out.
Kill her now.
Oh how he wanted to. But he knew any attempt he tried would not be as strong as it should be. And she was swift. She would just keep poking at him, saying things. Wouldn't it be good if he could just let this go? Let her go free, stop his clan from dying needlessly. Whether it was admitting defeat, or making a truce. Pah. Kestrel would never call a truce. Bitch.
Listen to yourself, you weak little bastard. You did not go through all this just to admit defeat. Kill her. End it now.
End it now. He opened his eyes, stared into hers. He could do it easily if he was not already weak. Yet even so, the enormity of what he sought to do was huge. To take a life. He'd killed so many times before, he thought he had become numb to the emotional issues with death. Just like when he was a kit, his mind ran through all questions an assassin should never consider.
Kestrel was a leader. Her death would mean the mourning of over 40 cats. It would bring all clans into turmoil. Did she have a mate? He knew that she looked after Soulless as her own. Although no longer his, he still wished Soulless the best as she was, afterall, of Heartless's bloodline. If Kestrel died, the trauma it would bring to the kit would be overwhelming. So, should he kill her?
Idiot! Just because you're weak does not excuse you thinking like an apprentice! Remember what you were taught - close your mind of it all, and just kill her.
Bane closed his eyes briefly, before slowly opening them. There normal, blank stare had returned. He blocked his mind from the excruciating pain in his stomach - blood dripped steady from that area, though he ignored the dizzy feeling it gave him. Slowly, a single forepaw lifted up, claws extended.
"I hope you believe in StarClan. It makes death less scary if you think you're going to a better place. Truth is, this really is all there is to it. We live to struggle through life, forging alliances, fighting battles, and for what? We all die in the end, don't we? Why suffer if there is no need?"
For BoneClan.
For me.
His paw fell down upon her throat.
Waiting.
Hoping.
For the blood to flow.[/size]
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Post by Kest on Mar 18, 2008 23:24:38 GMT -5
"I know a liar when I see one, Bane," Kestrel said coldly.
She remained pinned, but she still managed to look unruffled. As if an impermeable barrier lay between her and the world.
A shadow crossed her face; a smirk. "Why are you so out of breath? You seem weak."
Her mismatched eyes, twin suns of implacable light and fury, flitted across her enemy's face as if she were looking for something.
"Why the hesitation?" she asked softly, her voice fierce and quiet.
Bane was speaking. Speaking and steeling himself.
I figured killing is as easy as breathing to someone like you.
Losing your nerve?
A growl leapt into her throat at Bane's words. "Life is struggle, BoneClanner," she spat. "We all know this. We strive to make the best lives we can, to have a family and kits and happiness before we die. Every cat wants the same thing. We just all go about it in different ways."
Kestrel shifted her upper body slightly, his paws still weighing heavily on her shoulders. She managed to grip at his legs with unsheathed claws. Her voice was a disgusted hiss. "Life is hard enough. Why add to the struggle? Why rape an innocent to prove that life can be bad? Why kill, why maim? Is there reason to it?"
Honeymist. Fallingsky. Her beloved Brightgate. The names burned in Kestrel's mind. Her eyes did not waver so much as a centimeter from Bane's.
"You bring pain into the lives of the cats that live here. You say to me, 'Why suffer if there is no need?' And I ask the same question in return. Why suffer? Why cause others to suffer?
I fight this war against any cat who thinks they have the right to cause these others to suffer.
Against any cat like you."
Silence fell, deepening around them. For a moment there was only stillness.
Then Bane moved to strike the final blow, to cut the life from Kestrel's throat.
I won't die for the likes of you!
"No!"
The word burst as a roar from Kestrel's throat. She twisted violently in Bane's grip, kicking violently again at his belly, her long claws flashing, teeth snapping. Bane's blow missed by a mere half-a-hair; if Kestrel were the faithful sort, she would believe it as the will of StarClan.
"You bastard!" |
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Post by Bane on Mar 19, 2008 15:56:50 GMT -5
Why?
He didn't know.
He'd never known, yet it was all that he had ever been taught. Never able to understand any other ways of life.
Was it really his fault? For all this time he had acted as if he was innocent, taken in the lives of cats who were odd, disturbed in many cases - they all killed like it was nothing. And he had allowed it, embraced it in so many cases. His daughter he had taught the way that he had been taught - a training process he had kept secret from the rest of the clan due to it's horrific nature. As a young tom himself, he had never thought his training was cruel. His eyes has been shrouded, his mind taught stories about how one day he would become the strongest cat of the land. He had believed it as if it would happen miraculously, as if suddenly every cat would praise him.
It wasn't his fault. He had been taught that way. A students attitude reflects on his teacher. His had been a heartless pig; his only true intention was to teach Bane to become the killer he had never been able to become.
Bane had been used.
-
Kestrel's attack struck hard. Though he did not feel the pain. His mouth was open in a gasp, yet no breath either inhaled or exhaled.
The RisingClan leader spoke, yet he could not hear her.
The battle ensued, yet he was oblivious to the movements of cats around him.
What was happening?
Surely not...
-
His name had been Scourge. A small, rat-like cat, he was weak and old. Bane remembered the night clearly - the day he had been found by this cat. Just a kit, he and his sister, Dawn, had been abandoned when their mother didn't know how to care for them. Scourge had taken them in, supposedly to help them survive. It's kind of funny now.
Bane was fed stories about how Scourge had once been a powerful leader, and had posed a threat to a whole forest of cats when he threatened to take over their land. His cats had worn the claws of dogs as trophies around their necks, enhanced their claws so they could strike a single blow, and kill a cat within seconds. Scourge said he had killed the strongest forest cat to exist with just one blow. At the time, Bane had been in awe. Such strength... any kit, of course, would wish to be like that.
Even as a kit, Bane barely expressed emotion. He only ever spoke when it was necessary, and at only 6 weeks old had begun his training. Scourge had commented that Bane fought like a cat ten times his age. Meanwhile, his sister mysteriously disappeared... never had Bane questioned this.
And so the tough training regime begun. Isolated, hungry, and frightened, the young kit was made to fight for his life without any help, for a whole year. Made to kill his own food before his muscles had fully developed, to fight or escape from badgers that so often roamed the land. He'd suffered more than physical damage in the year, and yet as a consequence survival slowly became like second nature.
Next, he was trained in the skills of assassination. It started with simple tasks - stealing a mouse from a forest clans fresh-kill pile without being seen or scented. As things progressed, Bane was made to stage deaths in the form of dog attacks and twoleg traps. The clans always took these things to be fate - StarClan intended, Scourge had said. Bane was fed stories about Scourge's own hatred for this "StarClan". Although uncertain at the time what this Clan was, it had begun to be that everything Scourge believed, Bane believed too. Finally, he learned to kill himself - through the use of poisons, many unknown to the clans, and physical combat.
At the age of 2, Bane was as fully trained as he could be. Already stronger in the arts than a cat 3 times his age, he started to want to explore. This strong desire became even more so when he found Scourge's body dead - his corpse rotten, the smell of poison upon his fur. It should have been that Bane felt sorrow - instead he felt finally free. Thus he left - unknown to him was that the day of Scourge's death, Bane's illness had begun.
-
To have thought that I trusted you.
The words echoed through his mind, made his ears feel like they were bleeding. They were weak words, yet harsh. Scourge's voice had never been pleasant.
To have thought I taught you as though you were my son. But what kind of a song of mine would grow weak at the final stable? You could have killed her - had all the clans with no other choice but to allow you rulership. But you doubt. You doubt. You fool.
Still, breath did not come. Scourge's voice grew quieter and quieter, weaker and weaker. As did Bane's body.
The BoneClan leader stared wide eyed at Kestrel. Was that regret within his eyes?
"I'm....sorry."
It felt as if he shouted the words, yet in reality they were a weak whisper.
"I never meant to... cause this suffering."
But you did! You did! How I felt you fill with lust as you slaughtered those who attacked you! The blood upon your claws makes you feel truly alive! How can you say you did not mean it?
Bane's eyes closed. He had a minor store of energy left - of which he summoned. Summoned inside himself, not to muscles that would deal blows, nor to claws that would spill blood. Within himself, this energy built up.
"Only because I've never known any different. When was I ever taught the wonders of healing? How exactly was I taught how to hunt for the clan? Bane does not rape, he does not kill without reason. The cats I have killed, I was made to believe were doing wrong. From this day, I kill only those who are not worthy of life. You have died once - how dare you seep the life of me in order to live for longer? If StarClan is real, I hope they grant you a thousand deaths. Bastard."
Fueled through his mind, his final attack was aimed at this unknown entity that drained him of energy.
No wonder he had grown weak so fast.
Suddenly, his mind felt free. As if once again his thoughts were his own - it was a freedom nobody else would likely experience. He wanted to smile, properly - never had he once properly felt happy.
But energy does not regrow. The strength that had been sapped would not return. The reality was his stomach was bleeding fast and heavy - and still not breath had entered his lungs.
Staring into Kestrel's eyes for one last time, he croaked.
"I didn't mean to... cause this suffering."
His body fell hard. A life that had never truly experienced living.
A life that had never grown a soul. [/size]
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Post by Kest on Mar 19, 2008 17:01:15 GMT -5
Kestrel did not move.
She lay flat on her back, bloodied claws unsheathed. Her mismatched eyes wide and confused.
Confusion--an emotion so rarely present in her mind. Her thoughts were always sharp, always clear. When she reached each twist and turn on the path of her life, she always knew what to do. Right or wrong, she knew each step she took before she took it.
Not now. For the next few heartbeats, Kestrel would be flying high and blind.
Kestrel struggled to stand, sank down once, and then gained her paws. Blood dripped steadily down her chest and legs.
She looked at Bane, her mismatched eyes bright in the darkness.
The play of emotion on his face a moment ago...his words...and now...
She felt lost. For a moment, she was her younger self, walking alone through a vast landscape, on the sharp edge of death, bleeding and without a single memory to tell her where she had been and where she was going...
For once in her life, Kestrel didn't know what to think. |
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Post by Battlecry on Mar 19, 2008 18:26:32 GMT -5
"NO!!"
The voice roared so loud, it might have woken the cat from hell. Even Barbwire, all the way in Treeclan, had heard a light murmur of the breeze as the earth gave a shudder. The world was quiet.
The death, Bane, his lord, had fallen.
As the turmoil of cats shifted, a parting as tussles moved aside from rocks like water, stepped a scrawny cat. Kestrel might have remembered Sharpfang, it was hard to forget such an ugly face.
... But so hard was it to call it ugly as his eyes shined with pain.
It was so unreal, he'd never experienced such a blow to his life as Sharpfang ever did. He was there as Bane said his dying words.
"I never meant to... Cause this suffering.."
"Don't give up now, Bane!" cried out Sharpfang, even though his Leader could not hear him.
"I didn't mean to.. Cause this suffering."
And he was gone. Kestrel looked plainly shocked. "Dun look so s'prised," Rasped Sharpfang, eyes glittering. "He'd good intenshuns," Sharpfang said quietly, crouching to press in nose into Bane's bloody body. He closed his eyes, shuddering from head to toe.
Some might have thought the great deputy would die with his leader, to pass away before their very eyes as Bane did. So many times Sharpfang thought Bane could not be touched, could not die.
... I guess he proved them all wrong.
Amberstar froze, looking on with horror. Snowstar paused, eyes shining. Many cats had froze to witness this, though many hadn't heard his last words as Sharpfang and Kestrel had. But they had seen, they had heard the Deputy cry out with pain.
Sharpfang lay there, eyes closed, shuddering. Goldenblaze kept his eyes averted as he stood near Sharpfang, eyes low and glazed over. But he said nothing, he had nothing to say, afterall.
[Sorry for interrupting, guys. ^^; Felt the need to throw Sharpy in there. -so sad-]
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Post by Kest on Mar 20, 2008 13:06:53 GMT -5
ooc : i assume everyone thinks Bane's dead for good?Kestrel circled Bane, her head low. There seemed to be sorrow in her eyes.
This was not how she expected it to end. She had thought she would strike him down herself.
There was no triumph in an end like this. Not for her.
But! If Bane was well and truely dead, the war was over! BoneClan was nothing now, not without their leader's dark charisma. Their numbers dwindled.
I will remember your last, Bane, Kestrel thought. And then her mismatched eyes narrowed and a spasm ran through her body, steeling her. But I will also remember your first.
The evil--because there had been evil, no mere words could change that--was dead and gone. Dust. Over.
Kestrel wheeled, throwing back her head. She gave a powerful shout that echoed across the fields:
"BANE IS DEAD!" a requiem for the sane.
With all the speed and stealth of a snake winding through the grass, another cat joined the growing group around Bane.
Pripyat appeared, bloodied and fierce even in his mourning.
Bane had gained his respect. He had fought for him, killed for him, bled for him.
The black tomcat glanced around, daring any cat who looked on to show triumph in Bane's death.
He would slay them where they stood, if they dared to be glad.
And Darkangel, what would she think? This was her father...her mentor, her guide. Pripyat's own sadness grow more profound at this thought.
The BoneClan warrior scanned for her, but she had not yet arrived. But she must know...that Kestrel, she had shouted the news loud enough for all seven Clans to hear.
Pripyat stepped forward, toward Sharpfang. "Sharpfang," he murmured, his voice low and growly. "Sharpfang. Deputy."
He waited until he had the scruffy tom's attention. Then he said,
"Your orders, Sharpfang?"
He had been Bane's second.
Now he was in charge. [/blockquote]
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Post by Bristle + War on Mar 20, 2008 13:42:14 GMT -5
just like a D A R K fallen A N G E L :
No.
No. This couldn't happen.
Not now...Not at her claws.
Darkangel's face showed no emotion as she watched her leader, her mentor, her father fall. She stood merely foxlengths away as the silence covered the world.
She might have heard those words.
Maybe not, though.
And there was Sharpfang. Her dear friend. And Pripyat.
There. Standing right there...
"You f**king bitch!"
You might have thought it was Bane himself, shrunken by death, coming to haunt Kestrel. But the streak of black was not BoneClan's leader. It was their princess.
She skidded across the sandy floor, landing a tail-length away from her ugly face. Those hideous mismatched eyes.
"You...You killed him!"
Darkangel's emerald eyes flared.
But no. Not now, not today.
"You remember this day, Kestrel. You remember what I'm about to tell you. Listen up 'cause you might as well be prepared. Listen! I will kill you. I will tear your flesh from your bones, take your limbs slowly and painfully."
Pain filled those green eyes, and, fighting to hold back tears, Darkangel closed them. Her father, dead? BoneClan's fearless leader?
She stepped away from the RisingClan leader. Worthless piece of sh*t Kestrel was, Darkangel wasn't going to waste more words on her.
Sharpfang. Who would be leader now? The deputy or the princess?
"Pripyat."
She beckoned the black tom forward with a flick of her tail, her eyes still set on her father, his body.
She didn't know what she wanted with him. Darkangel kept flicking her tail as she padded forward to crouch beside Sharpfang, pressing her body against his.
He was like her uncle.
She loved him like one.
...Love. |
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Post by Battlecry on Mar 20, 2008 16:57:07 GMT -5
Sharpfang rose gracefully, the blood drying into crust and mud around his frame. "D'not speak those words wit' pride, Kestr'l," He said evenly, tail flicking. Sharpfang approached Darkangel and swept his tail over her back reassuringly. "Not now.." He said quietly in her ear, looking up. He still looked shooken up, as he looked at Pripyat and nodded. "BONECLAN!!" He yowled into the growing night. "... Move out," He said calmly, eyes looking over at Bane. "L't him fade 'way here on teh battlefield," He said to the Boneclan cats. "He'd ruther not be anywh're else, m'sure," He said.
He was not leader, he was deputy. Forever. He promised to Bane, he promised to Darkangel he would forever stay faithful to them.
... The legacy would live on, like it should.
.. But not now. Now, Darkangel looked ready to kill something, particularly Kestrel, but now was not the time. She'd get her revenge someday..
.. But for now?
Sharpfang planned to take them into away into safety, he wasn't sure where. From there, Darkangel would decide what to do. Sharpfang turned, and followed by Goldenblaze, and quickly joined by Barbwire and Misery he stepped away from the battlefield, not looking at anybody or anything as he walked away.
Well, um, not really sure what to do with Bane. xDD Figure it'd be a hassle to take any dead up with them, it's a long travel. Let me know if you'd rather do something else with the carcasses. xDD I'll fix the post.
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Post by Kest on Mar 20, 2008 18:00:49 GMT -5
The BoneClanners were looking at her. They spoke to her, and she could see their grief and their anger.
She ignored them. They were in exile now; they had right to mourn.
Tail and head high, Kestrel cried, "RisingClan! To me!" a requiem for the sane.
Pripyat padded to Darkangel's side, his tail lashing.
He bowed to the black she-cat, his voice a low murmur: "Darkangel. My leader. I am yours to command."
He paid his allegiance to the former leader's daughter, somehow sensing that it was she who would take the helm now.
Then Sharpfang gave the order, and the BoneClanners began to leave.
Pripyat hovered, waiting. The smell of death and blood hung in the air; their triumphs and their defeats. It was time to leave their home...the only home Pripyat had known in all his days. He would not turn his back on it unless he had Spiderlilly and Panic at his side. [/blockquote] |
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Post by Battlecry on Mar 20, 2008 21:17:42 GMT -5
Amberstar grit her teeth, eyes burning. They had won, but it didn't feel like it. Not for Bane's loss, she cared little for Bane or Goldenblaze, or the rest of Boneclan.
.. No, they had lost so many numbers. She raised her proud head, grimacing. "Treeclan, come, we return home. Take any of our fallen warriors and bring them home, they will be sent to Starclan properly," She said kindly as Treeclan had finally gotten her attention.
Similarly, Snowstar stood panting on the middle of the battlefield. She hadn't suffered as bad a loss, hopefully, as Boneclan had. She let Boneclan pass in peace, for it was the least they deserved. Boneclan had never hurt Stoneclan, as bitter and as bruised as they had come to be. She felt no ill will on the Boneclanners, she had simply come on behalf of Kestrel. She felt their mourning as her own, as Amberstar did not. Still, she raised her small head, covered in a little bit of blood, and called out. "Stoneclan!! Take any home that have fallen, we return home," She said, looking away. And she set off in the opposite direction of Amberstar, taking their warriors home.
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Post by .::Umberwings on Mar 20, 2008 22:38:36 GMT -5
Bane.
“Baaane.”
Bane. Bane. Bane.
The demented hiss sounded from off to the gather felines’ right, as the almost elegant figure of a brown-pointed cannibal padded towards them. However, there was a strange light suddenly illuminating within pretty blue eyes. A glow the dipped and bobbed, something drastically important missing within the look.
Since the first, Heartless and Sharpfang had been Bane’s most loyal. For a cat who had left the terrible situation of her clan before, who had lost much of herself because of that clan, upon joining Boneclan she had taken a few steps towards a new life. She had found a mate, a real one she loved with all her heart. Had kits.
When Soulless had been stolen, it had been Bane to rally to get her back.
When anything happened, it had been Bane to give them hope, to guide them. And now he laid before her. Gone.
The great leader, and good friend, gone.
Heartless paused by the great cat’s body, her already blood-soaked muzzle lowering to press against his shoulder. It was in that way she stood for a good few minutes, even as the voices of others passed above and around her ears.
This was grief.
But when she lifted her muzzle away, taking an unsteady breath, that odd uncertain light had changed to a darkness glittering then dulling light blue eyes to murky pools. A lot keen wail sounded from the cannibal’s muzzle as she stepped back, swinging her body around as if to follow her comrades.
It was at that moment that Razorblade, limping off his right back leg, padded past her. There was nothing that the young medicine cat could do – nothing at all. Her blue eyes narrowed, tail suddenly lashing as if he were the prey.
A leap forward, a snarl.
A flash of claws once. Twice. Three times.
And Razorblade collapsed, twitching, dying in a pool of his own blood, vacant dark eyes staring up at his ally. His killer.
Heartless smiled down with a twisted smirk before screaming out loud, turning away from her comrades, and vanishing into the sea of bodies and crimson.
Heartless, the feared Boneclan cannibal, was no more.
Heartless, the rogue maniacal genocider, lived.
It all happened so fast.
Spiderlily had been padding forward, tabby paws easily missing the blood that scattered across the terrain, when the sudden killing of Razorblade and flight of Heartless occurred right before her eyes. Yellow hues blinked a few times, a bit puzzled.
Now, Spiderlily wasn’t a nice cat. Far from it. She liked neither Razorblade nor Heartless – but they were both strength the clan needed. Especially in a time like now.
And not both were gone.
She frowned, her eyes narrowing a bit as they looked in the direction Heartless went off in, before turning and padding to Pripyat’s side.
Ah, Pripyat.
Ever faithful and ever loyal.
Her tail flicked along his side as she sat down next to him. Neither would move until young Panic came to join them, and the trio would set off, leaving the home they had found beyond forever.
A black form wearily padded forward at the sounds of Amberstar’s call, barely able to walk a straight line. The old Deputy had fought long and hard and with pure fiery determination against the duo team of Styx, the Duskclan medicine cat, and his old friend Darkazure, who had became his arch rival moons and moons ago.
Both toms now lay dead behind him.
But even he could not come out from such a battle unharmed. Blackheart’s noble head lifted up, before he took off after Amberstar, moving in the only pace he could at the time.
Greed smiled, a low and sinister smile, as he trotted after the Treeclan leader. You see, he remembered her promise to him.
He and his fighters had helped to win the war.
He and his fighters were going to have their payment. If Amberstar held to her word, then the Boneclan lands would become theirs.
Or else…
Her mother was gone.
The bastard was dead.
Brave Soulless stood proud, watching the cats before her break apart, leaving the battlefield. The young warrior bowed her head for a moment, respectful of the dead around her, before turning and following her much-loved leader back into Risingclan lands.
Happily singing about cucumbers in the sun, Deadnight practically skipped after the grey and white she-cat.
Loveless didn’t move from where he stood, even after Snowstar gave the word to leave. His tuxedo pelt was stained with blood, both his and that of the cats he had fought on this day.
He waited for Pinedark. He would not leave these lands without her.
Chainless was no where to be seen.
Many had fallen.
Many had been lost.
Sunsetfire stood alone, for a moment. He had found Chainrust’s body laying where he had fallen, performing one last brave deed before he passed on into Starclan’s lands.
He had lost one of his dearest friends.
One of the original few who had started Stealthclan with him.
For a moment, the golden leader stood there just like any other cat around him, amber eyes lost.
But then, life.
“Stealthclan, to me! We shall return home now; and mourn those we’ve lost there.”
It was time for their lives to be rebuilt.
For the future to truly begin. [/size] |
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Post by Battlecry on Mar 20, 2008 23:18:10 GMT -5
No, she had returned...
No longer the cat Goldenblaze had fallen in love with, she was a manic murderer.
... The feared cannibal was back. "... No.." He spoke softly, eyes widening in horror. "Somebody get a Medicine Cat over here!! Anybody!" He called out, darting after her. If any cat could calm Heartless down, it was Goldenblaze.
... Or Bane himself, but that wasn't possible right now.
"HEARTLESS!" He caterwauled into the night, shoving past the other cats, streaking by.
Just as he spotted her, he launched, and tackled heavily into Heartless, sending the both of them to the floor. There they lay, on the middle of the battlefield, Goldenblaze breathing heavy, fright in his eyes. But not for his safety, Goldenblaze feared no death. It was for his mate's sanity.
"Heartless," He murmured, almost whispered to her. "Don't do this.." He said, his voice cracking with pain.
Sharpfang froze, looking up. Then he snarled inwardly.
... Heartless was inbalanced in mindset. And Bane's death had been the one thing to finally make her tip. As much as he envied Goldenblaze for having taken her as his mate, he relied on him too heavily now. He had to stop her!! "R'zorblade!" He yowled, turning back to go to him.
Whitedevil passed by Darkangel, eyes darkening. So, his father had died on the battlefield. And with it, his secret. Whitedevil was free of the shame it might have caused him if anybody knew...
If anybody had known that the Stealthclan deputy was his father. Regardless, there were so many mixed heritages now, it wouldn't have mattered.
.. But it did to him.
Just as the prospect of freedom danced past his mind, a single scent flew on the wind, one that might have scented just like the dead deputy, even though no wind passed through the valley. [/color]
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Post by Kest on Mar 20, 2008 23:49:09 GMT -5
requiem for the sane.
Pripyat snarled. It seemed Heartless had finally snapped.
She had taken one of their own. He watched her run, his blue eyes going dangerously narrow.
Goldenblaze broke ranks, chased her down.
"If he can not bring her to her senses," Pripyat said softly, to no one, "then I will kill her myself."
The BoneClanners were Pripyat's cats, his family, and no cat screwed with them and lived.
The familliar scent of Spiderlilly drew him away from his anger.
Pripyat turned, fixing her in the entirety of his attention.
As a rule, he avoided breaching her personal space uninvited. He walked at least half a tail length away, sat only as close as she wanted him to. If she moved closer, he was happy. She was something like the only god, the only higher power he had ever known; Pripyat would live and die by BoneClan, but when it came right down to it, he only truely belonged to Spiderlilly.
Now, with the sorrow of their defeat in his blue eyes, he went back on his own personal protocol. He bumped his head against her shoulder in that odd way cats have and murmured, "Spiderlilly, Bane is dead. It's so easy to die."
His voice lowered. He was speaking so quietly now only Spiderlilly would be able to hear him. "I love you, Spiderlilly. Don't die." he whispered. "Ever."
He was still for a moment. Then he moved aside slightly and sat.
He scanned for Panic.
When his friend arrived (and his apprentice, too! he had almost forgotten!), they could leave. [/blockquote][/color]
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Post by .::Umberwings on Mar 21, 2008 0:23:18 GMT -5
She returned.
The cat she once been.
The cat she always had been. Never had it been shown that Heartless was actually mentally getting better. Clan life had simply calmed her a bit since her wild days before and just after joining. Goldenblaze had calmed her. In defense of her clan, to protect everything she cherished, she had proven her worth time and time again by slipping away back into the madness and being set loose on her foes.
But now everything had changed. Bane was gone. Without him, how could there remain a Boneclan?
One by one, the cats she grew to know and protect slipped from her memory as her mind back-paced, going back to before.
Before…
One face burned into the she-cat’s mind. Kestel’s. The bitch that took away a bright shining star of a leader. Heartless practically snarled in her running, just as a greater weight smashed her to earth. She practically seethed beneath Goldenblaze, writhing and striving to twist herself enough where she could get a good grip and rip his damn face off.
f**kin’ bastard.
There was a wild hiss; the cry of someone truly lost to the world and left only to see the demons that haunted her mind. What was left?
What was left now?
Soulless was gone forever.
Zinstorm was dead.
Bane was dead.
Heartless almost sobbed out loud as she opted for the next best thing; trying to tear into one of Goldenblaze’s legs.
It was too late for Razorblade. Spiderlily watched as the medicine cat took his last breath, before shuddering a last time and going still in death. The executioner hardly even blinked.
Meh.
The weak died. It was fact. She felt a loss in the sense that Boneclan was now minus two strong warriors; one in insanity and the other death, there was no other emotion from her. If it had been a cat she cared for, one of the extreme few, then it would be a completely different matter.
At the feel of touch to her shoulder the strikingly marked tabby turned her head and rubbed the side of her head against his with a bit of a raspy quiet purr.
“Die Pripyat?”
Death happened to every cat in the end. In was an inescapable truth, and as a cat who had executed man in her life Spiderlily knew that well. Even so, as long as she knew that Pripyat was alive and well, there was nothing that could break her. She knew that with mind and heart.
“Heh. If I’d die who’d be around to keep you out of trouble?”
For a moment, yellow hues closed in thought, her own dusky voice lowering.
“I love you as well, Prip. You don’t die on me either.”
They needed to stay strong. For the clan, and each other. |
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Post by Battlecry on Mar 21, 2008 0:36:47 GMT -5
Goldenblaze struggled.
Mentally and physically, pressing himself to stay on top, to get her away from other cats should cause harm to, and.. He couldn't break down and give up then and now. Their Medicine Cat was dead now, he was sure. And now, a Boneclan warrior, his mate that he loved so dearly, was slipping from him.
... Bane had died.
Zinstorm had died.
Soulless... Might as well have died in the eyes of her parents.
And Razorblade was now dead, courtesy of his mate...
He wouldn't let his mate die in his mind. She was still Heartless, he had to find it in her mind, her heart, her soul and make her remember.
... It was that..
.. That gave him the strength and courage.
Scrapes appeared like footsteps off her claws as she scraped at his ankles. He was used to pain though, he had to give Bane props for something. Hell, he'd lost his damned ear to her. A few scrapes fell across his face. Blood seeped down his face sluggishly, and fell around his paws into Heartless's fur. Suddenly, he gave a snarl, rising slightly, building momentum into his shoulders and shoving down with all his might. He wanted to knock the wind out of her, letting out a low hiss.
"HEARTLESS!" He snarled, eyes blazing. "Listen to me!! Forget all this!! Breathe!" He hissed at her, keeping her pinned beneath him. "Forget! Remember the good times!" He said, struggling to find his words, letting his blood mix with hers.
"No!" Sharpfang said, turning to look at Pripyat. "She cann't die, she'sa valu'ble asset to Boneclan," He said, as if trying to reassure even himself. But even Sharpfang knew that may have to be the way to stop her. He gave a sigh as Razorblade's life slipped away, and looked up. This couldn't be happening.
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Post by .::Umberwings on Mar 21, 2008 15:32:15 GMT -5
Goldenblaze was gone. Her memory of her dear mate slipped away like those of the others, nothing more then dust on the wind. Her devotion to him, everything, gone. What else was left but that empty shell of a cat, wild and fierce? A true killer with nothing left to hold her down, hold her back.
A voice.
Even as she savagely attempted to break free, the golden tom smashed is weight against her, uttering more senseless, meaningless, word. Her breath escaped her is a fierce hiss and she lay for a moment, pants to regain it. The sudden loss of her breath took her back, took her back to a time so long ago.
They had been playing.
She and Oathkeeper had been running along the bank of the Great River back in the clan of her birth. There was laughter. Peace. But then she saw her brother, her dear brother Oblivion, following after the clan leader.
Her heart had nearly burst. She hadn’t seen Oblivion in moons, not since The leader came to the apprentice den and taken the young tom away.
Away…
She had broke away from her play, running over to Oblivion to see if all had been well. If everything was alright.
But then Superiorstar had turned back. Turned back and lashed out, his blow strong enough to send the she-cat right over the bank of the river, into the churning waters below.
She remembered last seeing before her head went under Oblivion staring at her blankly, before turning to follow their leader once more. Oathkeeper shouting at her and following on the edge of the bank, his voice and words the same senseless murmuring as Goldenblaze’s was now.
The river was rapid; it struck her headfirst against a half-submerged boulder in the waters.
Then there was weightlessness. The same sense of floating in nothingness the loss of breath created, as the river pulled her under a last time and took her away from that world forever.
She should have died, then. By every right she should have died. But the cat that she had once been had died, incapable of being recovered.
Heartless was Heartless, now and forever.
“Get off me.”
She snarled the moment that she had the breath to, all the hate and anger and pure unrelenting rage tainting the words until they were almost not understandable. |
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Post by Battlecry on Mar 21, 2008 16:55:34 GMT -5
He lashed out, suddenly.
... This wasn't his mate. This wasn't the one he'd fallen for and had kits with. If she wanted to kill him, they were both going down.
Claws slipped from his toes, piercing into her chest. He raised a clawed paw, striking down once acrossed her cheek, leaving a clean cut. He placed his paws back where they were, his claws filling the same puncture wound as it had before he raised it, and he snarled.
"So you will give up all we've had? Go back in time, and erase it all? Yes, Bane is dead," He said, lowering his face near hers, whispering cold words into her ear. "So you shall give up what you still have for the past? You're not the one I love..." He said quietly.
A burst of flame seemed to erupt from the tom. "GIVE HER BACK!" He howled, forcing even Sharpfang to look up in horror.
He hissed once more, opening his jaws wide, and flew down to seize her neck. His aim should have been directly at her throat, unless she found a way to turn her neck or force him backwards.
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Post by Kest on Mar 21, 2008 17:43:20 GMT -5
a requiem for the sane.
"You're the one who gets me into trouble," Pripyat murmured, a weak parody of humor in his voice.
He watched Goldenblaze struggle with his former mate impassionately. He did not know why Heartless had snapped, but he knew enough of madness and the sickness of the mind to understand that wherever she had gone, she was not coming back.
And then Goldenblaze seemed to snap himself, striking out at the mother of his kits in a fury.
Pripyat rose to his paws, a growl rumbling low in his chest.
He leaped suddenly forward, swift as the strike of a snake, and seized at Goldenblaze's scruff. He meant to lock his teeth in his comrade's fur and drag him away.
"Let her go!" Pripyat snarled through clenched teeth. "She's gone! Don't throw away your life for her!" [/blockquote]
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