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witchcraftandburialdirt · 25 days

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He was silent. Always was, new people just trying to do their job or so that's what he's gathered from how many have come. They all come and go, some die others are lucky. Selling things they find to meet some kind of quota set by the entity they report to. Tarhos would never pretend to understand it, but... for everyone else he's seen. This one was different and he couldn't tell why. Perhaps that's why he was staring for so long, leaning out of the door way just out of sight until he turned around.

The creature could feel his pulse- the audible gasp, how they sweat probably clung to his brow beneath the mask. Yet.. he stared despite every instinct in his body telling him to run. Find a different position to strike from- it was his nature. Food was food and yet... he couldn't bring himself to hurt this one. No. "What do you want?" His spines shifted as he tilted his head. What did he want...? Tarhos wasn't sure himself. Still... slowly he crept across the metal grating to sit on the floor and stare up at him.

Maybe he'd seem less intimidating if he was smaller, but... he could still feel how his pulse quickened by just being this close. How many others of his kind had he seen? Killed even? "Can you understand me?" Of course he could. The creatures head nodded... but it wasn't as if he could speak back to him. His vocal cords couldn't mimic the same speech that he used. - the stupid af bracken!Tar and employee!Haru fanfic joke but reality just for u

── 𝐔𝐍𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 ── LETHAL VERSE (I cb we made this shit NFGKJNKJ)

The Bracken's submission did little to quell Haruko's rampaging emotions, he couldn't suppress the thunderous beating of his heart or relax his tensed muscles. How many of his friends had this sort of thing killed? Why didn't he take the time now to bash its head in and secure the building from at least one more freak of nature? His thoughts swirled and began to cook to a boil, their roars eclipsing the metallic clanging of a nearby fan and the gentle hum of the facility. Frankly he had no idea what to do. If he turned around to tell towards his coworkers would this thing get aggressive again and try to break his neck? Haruko mentally cursed; feeling his heart rate skyrocket - unsure to fight or to flee.

"Well - I - My buddies will probably try to kill you if they see you and I ... " He sighed, "I don't want any bullshit, ok? Back off and I won't hurt you, and you won't hurt me. Truce. - or ...whatever is the equivalent in your culture. If you have a culture - whatever that isn't important right now. Just - we promise not to hurt one another!" Haru sputtered out quickly, still quite flustered after nearly having the absolute shit scared out of him. He was going to hold out a hand to the creature but decided against it once he realized it might find that as an aggressive gesture - frankly he wasn't in the mood to bash this things brains in - so he'd behave. "I'm going to - errr - walk to my ... friends." He cringed internally, ugh - friends? Half of the time he questioned if he should have taken animal linguistics before coming on this mission since half the crew seemed to be speaking a different fucking language 75% of the time! " ... And bring them here. Do not hurt them or try any shit, do you understand?" Haruko's brows furrowed and his nose crinkled as he regarded Tarhos - mentally he took note of its beetlike color and ... flora adorning its shoulders and spine.

"Just stay here. I'll be riiiiiiiiiiiight back." The worker took a few steps backwards, keeping his eyes on Tarhos until he stepped into another hallway and let out a gasp of relief. His gloved hand rested atop his chest as a low groan followed his slowing breaths, "Fuuuuuuuckkkk, why me? Why me?" He whined and his shrill whimpering echoed through the facilities vent system. "Ok - ok, its fine. It's fine its just a sentient Bracken who understands English and at least basic human communication!" He brought his shoulders up and shrugged in a half pitched failure of trying to keep his head level. "Yeah! Yeah - it's ... it's not like they can ... "

Haru paused. The last clang of his boot against the steel beams under him bounced through the hallway; only to bring about an eerie wave of dread once everything had fallen silent.

Could they all communicate? ... Had they just been killing ... sentient life forms? Without any thought to them? Shit. Would the Company get sued? Could Bracken sue? Did they have a legal system?

"Really not in the mood to be having a existential crisis right now, brain."

Sorry.

"It's fine. Now where is the entrance ... ! Hey! Walter! Come here I found some freaky ass shit and I need someone to tell me I haven't finally lost it. I know I know "that's been long gone Haru" yada yada - I get it. I don't want to tell you what it is because you'll think I'm making it up! Just - just get the other guys and meet me back here."

#ℍ𝔸ℝ𝕌𝕂𝕆 ℕ𝔸𝕂𝔸𝕊𝕆ℕ𝔼 ... 【 ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴀᴛᴛᴏᴏ ᴀʀᴛɪꜱᴛ 】#ic #rp #verse: lethal #bells of black sunday #my god #what a nightmare

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away-from-anthills · 3 years

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chapter one-

(prologue)

As conversations died behind them and the Gathering glow of Fourtrees began to fade, WindClan lumbered home.

As they had been positioned northeast in the Gathering, they would have to walk parallel to the Thunderpath to get back to camp. The eldest cats, like Shalestar and Sandwhisker, didn’t even think twice as they walked along the gravelly edge, their pawpads having grown thick enough that they didn’t flinch at the pebbles of asphalt beneath their feet. Some of the younger cats, however, didn’t seem as sure. Marblepaw in particular looked quite nervous, as she nearly always did. Her brother and polar opposite, Twigpaw, was cracking macabre jokes about what could go wrong to Milkpaw and Goldenpaw, who seemed particularly disapproving.

Antstep watched Rainleap, who was in the lead, with a mixture of deep respect, high regard, a sliver of wonder, and a smaller sliver of envy. The speckled gray tabby’s chest was angular and defined, like what one would expect to see on a horse, and his yellow-eyes looked like comets in the full moon’s light. There was not an ounce of trepidation in the WindClan deputy’s figure. As Rainleap’s ears flicked around to keep track of the entire Clan, he began to stop in his tracks and step over to the apprentices.

“The Thunderpath, Goldenpaw, is nothing to be afraid of. You’ll get reflexes with it over time. When I was an apprentice-“ -he stopped and began to sign the words as he spoke them so Milkpaw, who was deaf, could also understand- “-when I was an apprentice, I was the most scared of the Thunderpath of anyone in the Clan. Talonscar, who was my mentor, even wondered if we’d have to cancel my trip to the Moonstone because I’d start crying like a kit if I even smelled the Thunderpath.”

“You! Scared?” signed Milkpaw in disbelief.

“Did you have to cancel your Moonstone trip?” asked Goldenpaw.

“We didn’t, in the end- I got used to the Thunderpath, just as everyone else does. But it’s okay to be scared, too. But remember-“ -he tilted his head and smiled- “-if anything happens, just remember, the adults in this Clan are always looking out for you.”

Antstep thought about his own apprentice, Spiderpaw, who was in camp awaiting the Gathering group’s return. She was more like Twigpaw- a loud, wild thing, rather egotistical, and very clever. She was quite the lot to handle- even Shalestar had been hesitant about assigning her to Antstep, as they were quite opposites - but Antstep cherished her regardless. This would have been the second Gathering she would have gone to, but she and her siblings had to be punished for a particularly nasty prank they had played on Sparkthistle the day before, and so Shalestar instructed them to stay home.

As much as Sparkthistle had deserved that…, thought Antstep bitterly.

Suddenly, Rainleap’s ears pricked, and he looked up, stopping where he was.

“What is it?” asked Twigpaw, but Rainleap shushed him, pointing his tail in the direction of the Thunderpath.

There, a deer was slowly making its way across the road. It was young, not over two years old, yet its pair of antlers were impressive and the color of pale oak bark. It was slim and angular, and it craned its head vaguely in the direction of the WindClan cats. It was a rare thing to see; a beautiful thing to see.

“You don’t see one of those every day,” Rainleap whispered, signing so Milkpaw could understand. “Majestic, beautiful things.”

Even the older cats- Shalestar, Sandwhisker- in the front turned their heads to catch a glimpse of the stag. A sense of stillness washed over the Thunderpath, and the stag’s black eyes shined like the Moonstone under that pale moon light.

Everything was still.

And then, there was a noise. Slowly, one by one, the cats of WindClan raised their ears. It was at first, a low hum, but as it approached, it grew louder and louder. A yellow light emerged from the distance.

Headlights.

The stag froze.

The red monster barreling down the road, then, did something monsters never do. Trying to avoid the deer, the beast swerved against itself, its rubber feet skidding along and making a stomach-churning screech. First one way, then another, and then, as Shalestar ordered WindClan to run, as cats ran every direction, as Antstep leapt into a nearby patch of bracken with Russetfoot and Rockscratch close behind and as all the forest seemed to spin, there was a horrible shock, a horrible wail, a horrible crash as the monster plummeted off the road into a nearby tree.

A plume of smoke escaped the monster’s snout. It had, earlier, been big and boxy, but it looked crumpled and almost pathetic now. It looked so very, very… small.

The deer was nowhere to be seen.

A heavyset twoleg in overalls clambered out of the monster’s side door and began to swear as he inspected the damage that had been done. He seemed to get angrier and angrier, his fists tight against themselves and his face red, until he caught sight of a small, bloodied gray body, and his gaze softened.

It was Rainleap.

Gone was the confidence, the charisma, the aura so perfect it had to be sent from StarClan themselves. The tom was limp, crushed between the bark of the oak tree and the front grill of the monster. He was positioned nearly upside down, as if he had tried to jump out at the last second. His chest was crushed inward. His head craned downward, throat-up; a stream of blood left his upper lip and began to pool around his head like a halo. He looked like a dying egret as the moon turned his speckled gray fur pale and as the blood gave it an awful, wicked glow.

The twoleg pried Rainleap’s body from its position and carried it in his. It sunk into his leather gloves, wet and limp, like a newly-borne kit. The twoleg clicked his tongue and mumbled something in a sympathetic, pitying tone. Wandering over to the back of the monster, he picked out a shovel, and began to dig the dry earth near where the monster lay. One, two, three scoops of dirt were dug out, and then Rainleap’s body was set down. One, two, three scoops of dirt were put back, and he was gone.

Shalestar’s expression was unreadable.

For a moment, Emberheart reached out to the makeshift grave, which stood just by the twoleg’s feet as he pulled a little device from his left pocket and began to speak into it. Shalestar pulled her back. WindClan warriors began to cluster around their leader.

“What will we do now?” Antstep timidly asked the blue-gray tom, his amber gaze still focused upon Rainleap’s grave- not simply because of how fast everything had gone, how it felt the earth was still spinning beneath him, but because it hurt his heart too much to look at Shalestar.

“We need to go home,” said Shalestar. The back of his throat sounded pained in a way Antstep had only heard from him a few times before. “I… I have a lot of work to do.”

And then, he turned to address his Clan- the wide-eyed warriors, the terrified apprentices, all of whom were looking to him for answers. He looked to the sky- the moon was not quite at its peak.

But was he looking to check the time, to know how long he had to choose a new deputy- or was he looking for another speckled star in that endless night sky?

“Expect your new deputy… by Moonhigh.”

A terrible feeling began to bubble in Antstep’s belly as WindClan hurried away from the spot where Rainleap had died. The uncertainity that hung in the cool night air was so thick it was tastable- and it tasted bitter as bitter could be. Shalestar was on his last life, and it was as if Rainleap was born to replace him. If Rainleap was not to be Rainstar, if WindClan had been robbed of the future that it had built its back on recently… who would take the mantle instead?

For the most part, Antstep considered his Clanmates. Emberheart would be a good leader. Or Toadpool, although he was a tad too naïve. Russetfoot, maybe? Or perhaps Stoatslink… Sparkthistle, definitely not.

And yet a slither of him wondered. How would he do as deputy? It was unlikely Shalestar would elect him, of course, but the thought still sprang to his mind…

Soon, the forests gave way to the open meadows of WindClan. Heathers and tallgrass danced in the air, the pathways that WindClan moor runners had trod upon for generations glowed silver, and the entrances to tunnels that were founded beyond the memories of one’s memories beckoned under the starry sky. Yet the worry of returning to WindClan territory- the worry of telling those who had stayed behind the freak accident, the blunder of StarClan, that had befallen Rainleap- eclipsed the beauty and the warm scent of home.

A small, dark gray figure stood in the distance- Antstep recognized her immediately. Spiderpaw sped towards him, her eyes aglow with curiosity. He realized she had likely sat there waiting nearly the entire time they had been gone.

“How did the gathering go?” she squeaked, skidding to a stop in front of him. However, as soon as she was struck by the expression on Antstep’s face, she lost enthusiasm. “… Did something happen?”

Antstep didn’t want to explain to her that Rainleap had died- as he knew she, talkative as she was would then go and tell the rest of the Clan. There is no worse way to hear news than an apprentice who doesn’t fully grasp the severity of what has just happened.

“Shalestar will tell you,” he replied. Spiderpaw looked confused, but upon seeing the other, similarly-glum faces of the other WindClan cats, she nodded and turned away, her large ears still pointed towards them in hopes of eavesdropping.

As the cats trod closer, through the layers of gorse-flowers that cradled camp, their dens came into view. All the cats in the little sandy hollow’s eyes were upon them, waiting to hear the news of what had happened at the gathering.

“How are the other clans?” asked a ginger molly, peeking her head out of the nursery as a tortoiseshell kit gnawed at her foot. Before she could even finish the question, Molethroat came running over to her, burying himself in her shoulder.

“Where’s Rainleap?” asked a male dark gray tabby apprentice nearly identical to Spiderpaw. There was no reply.

A dreading curiosity began to wash over some of the WindClan cats who had stayed in camp- even Cherrycloud’s kits seemed to pick up that something had just happened. Some didn’t seem to want to know, instead shifting their weight back and forth as they imagined what horrible things could have happened.

“Maybe Tatteredstar announced that she wants ThunderClan to take over the whole forest. Maybe she’s taking Rainleap as hostage, and we have to pay ransom,” said the male dark gray apprentice- he clicked his cheek, as if to say he was telling a joke, but his breath smelled of anxiety.

“Don’t say that sort of thing, Coalpaw!” scolded his mother next to him as she exited the nursery. He lowered his head, looking rather ashamed- but something caught his amber eye, and he stood to full attention. Shalestar was making his way up the Tallrock. Arthritis wracked the old tom, and his ears looked particularly weather-beaten in the full moonlight, but his gaze was determined. This was something he, and only he, could do.

“Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather beneath the Tallrock for a Clan meeting.”

Fraught silence filled the air as WindClan cats shuffled around, finding their own seats. Antstep positioned himself in the middle alongside Russetfoot, trying to avoid any cats who were close to the late WindClan deputy- he was never good at comforting others, and he figured he’d just be in the way. Whitetooth and Marblepaw sat themselves just by the base of the Tallrock, facing their Clanmates instead of their leader.

“The Gathering, this evening, came and went with no incidents. There was an argument involving Tulipstar of RiverClan and Tatteredstar of ThunderClan, but it was settled, and at no point did it involve WindClan.”

Coalpaw seemed relieved that the situation he dreamed up on his own had been disproven.

“On the way back from the Gathering, WindClan walked on the side of the Thunderpath. We have done this for many Gatherings before, and in all of the cases I can remember there was no accidents. However-“ -Shalestar swallowed- “- a monster swerved off the side of the Thunderpath into a tree, hitting and killing our deputy, Rainleap.”

There was a second where the words Shalestar uttered had not yet been processed. And then- slowly, at first, and then all at once, like a kit wading into the water- the sandy hollow broke into howls of ugly grief. Stripedwing, Rainleap’s sister, collapsed to the sandy floor in shock, and Russetfoot hurried over to where she was to comfort her. Talonscar, who had barely managed to leave the elders’ den when the news was announced, began to whimper as the other elders comforted them. The air smelled of the salt of tears, and Antstep felt his head fog up with a headache of sympathy. Even Shalestar- almighty Shalestar, steadfast Shalestar- seemed to crumple as he took in the sights and sounds of grief and panic. WindClan was mourning its most gifted son.

Shalestar waited a very long time to continue, letting the grief of the Clan bleed out into the earth. At long last, when the initial howls gave way to silent weeping, he continued. “We were not able to secure his body due to external circumstance, but rest assured, his body was buried in a respectful manner.”

By his killer, Antstep thought, but he knew saying anything would only make it worse.

“Rainleap was many things- talented, humorous, kind, intelligent- but, most importantly, he was one of us. He would have dedicated more lifetimes to WindClan than the amount of lifetimes all the leaders in this forest have put together. He was born the weakest kit of his litter, he died the pride of all of WindClan, and all of the forest. It was an esteemed honor for me to be his leader.”

Shalestar said that with every WindClan cat that passed away- but Antstep knew he deeply and truly meant it this time from the pained sound of his voice.

“As you know, I am on my ninth and final life, and I expect that it will not be long until I join StarClan’s ranks. When I made Rainleap my deputy, I fully intended for him to ascend as WindClan’s leader after my death. However, destiny is, at times, a beautiful liar and a crooked path. As early as I can under the present circumstances, I will choose a new deputy for WindClan- one who I think will be able to take good care of all of you when I am gone. WindClan’s next leader will not be Rainleap, no. I can’t say if they will be better or worse than he- they will simply be different. But I assure you all now, everything will all turn out alright in the end eventually.” He turned away slowly after eyeing the warriors of the Clan below him.

“…Meeting dismissed.”

“One thing I’ll never forget, about Rainleap that is,” said Rockscratch late that night, taking a bite out of the rabbit he was sharing with Stoatslink, “for all the professionalism he had as a deputy, for how put-together he was… Damn, he was the biggest flirt in the forest when he was an apprentice. It was embarrassing.”

“Remember when he had that massive crush on Mossfang in RiverClan?” said Russetfoot, wandering up to them now that Stripedwing was asleep. He started to laugh in that sad, fond sort of way. “And she didn’t care at all for him. I swear to StarClan, she would have sooner dated a skunk’s ass! I don’t even think she’s into toms to begin with…”

“Oh, he made such a fool of himself at Gatherings back then… He had a thing for RiverClan, I swear. I always joked if he wasn’t careful there’d be a bunch of baby Rainleaps bouncing around the river someday…”

Antstep laughed at the thought- he had forgotten how Rainleap had been as an apprentice. The idea of Rainleap being anything but perfect had all but washed away in his mind. He thought of the conversation Rainleap had had with the apprentices just before he died, about how much the speckled tabby had feared the Thunderpath as an apprentice. How dark that seemed now…

“Now, Antstep, he was an apprentice by the time you joined WindClan so you never saw him as a kit- but we’ll tell you, as we were his nursery denmates, we saw all kinds of shenanigans him and his siblings got into. He’d be so embarrassed to hear us bring it up now. There was the time he escaped the nursery with Stripedwing…”

As Russetfoot began to ramble off, Antstep thought about Shalestar. The old tom was still in his den, debating to himself on who to choose. Only Whitetooth had been in the den at all.

Maybe he’d choose Rockscratch or Russetfoot? The two red tabby tom twins were Antstep’s closest friends. Rockscratch was more boisterous, more quick to fight; Russetfoot was calmer and gentler and dedicated to his mate. Antstep remembered how Shalestar had been when he had the leader as his mentor- he always appreciated calmer cats, who’d be willing to hear out debates and make amends. Russetfoot would be a good leader. And maybe Rockscratch could be deputy. Wouldn’t that be something?

His thoughts were cut off as he heard pawsteps behind him. He turned to see Whitetooth, the WindClan medicine cat, staring at him.

“Antstep. Shalestar wants to see you in his den.”

Antstep was confused, but he put the pieces together immediately. Of course- I was his last apprentice, and most of the warriors are about my age, so he wants to see me to get my opinion. “Should I go now? Or-“

“Come along with me,” simply replied the medicine cat.

As they walked across camp together, Antstep got a good look at Whitetooth, who he normally didn’t interact with much as he rarely went to the medicine den. The medicine cat was friends with everybody and nobody. They generally kept to themselves, but they were deeply trusted for their skill. Under the clear night sky, their almost all-white fur, which smelled of berries, seemed to glow.

Antstep got the sense Whitetooth was analysing him. Their gaze was scanning Antstep top to bottom- there was a conclusion being reached behind those teal, dawn-colored eyes of theirs, but Antstep couldn’t figure out what conclusion it was.

“Here we are,” said Whitetooth, stopping a whisker’s length away from the leader’s den. “Shalestar told me this was to be a private matter, so I shall see you later. I wish you good luck.”

Good luck?

“… You wanted to see me, sir?” said Antstep, suddenly feeling worry boil in his throat. But that worry soothed itself when Shalestar looked upon them. This was, after all, the very same cat who had insisted WindClan take Antstep in; who had mentored Antstep himself.

“…Yes. I have reached a conclusion, Antstep. But I need to make sure it will be alright with you first before I announce it. It is quite a lot to take in- it was for me, after all.”

An inkling scurried around Antstep’s mind. “… What is the conclusion, if I may ask?”

Shalestar took a deep breath. “Antstep. I have always seen you as something of a son to me. When we found you as a kit all on your own, you know I had just lost my children to a wildfire. That is why I mentored you. It felt like a sign, like StarClan themselves dropped a kit on my densteps to raise in place of my own. And… when I die… I want someone who I feel I can personally trust, who I have a personal regard for, to carry on Clan life, not just a fellow Clanmate with leadership skills.”

Antstep nodded, realizing what Shalestar was about to ask him.

“I am aware that it is a lot to ask of you, and that Rainleap left behind big pawprints to fill. But I fully believe that if you have the time to learn the ropes and adjust, you will be a wonderful deputy- and, if fate allows for it, a wondrous leader. So… Antstep… may I make you the next deputy of WindClan?”

At first, Antstep felt ill. He was barely able to keep ahold of his apprentice, let alone an entire Clan! And what would the other Clans think? When Currantstar announced a former kittypet was to be the next ShadowClan medicine cat when he introduced Rosettepelt at a gathering a couple of seasons ago, he was made a laughingstock by the other Clans. And that was ShadowClan! They let in outsiders all the time… But Antstep had been a rarity, only allowed in because it was against the Warrior Code to leave a kit out there on their own.

But then… a sickenly sweet idea hit the corner of his mind and bounced into it. The deep awe the leaders had instilled in him just earlier that night. The way they were all so loved by their Clans. The respect Rainleap and Shalestar got, the way everyone seemed to approve of them. Love. Respect. Approval. It could all be his.

He just had to say one word.

“Yes, Shalestar.”

#story #warrior cats #warrior cats ocs

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