London Bridge is Falling Down [Mist x OPEN!]

[Spec]

((This is a thread for characters who are unsure on how they will react towards Mistpelt personally. Mistpelt followers are welcome as well, but for now, no character who is already against her or extremely devoted to her plans will be encouraged not participate in this thread for plot purposes.

Possible Characters [Needed!] :

~ Those who are unsure on their thoughts on Mistpelt.
~ Those who think their character will end up supporting her. It is required, for those who wish to be her followers or council, to rp here so you have some evidence to give on your application.

How this works
1) Your cat drops into this thread, Mistpelt will interact with your cat for a few posts.
2) During this time, you should rp your cat and show pretty clearly in your cats thoughts what they think of Mistpelt.
3) When this is sorted, make an excuse to leave or do a task Mistpelt allocates you. Then exit the thread immediately. You don't absolutely have to follow her orders or rp out what she wants you to do, just leave the thread XD

Notes
- You will allowed to rp here for a limited amount of time. If possible, please keep the amount of posts per cat here UNDER 10. Once your cat has an opinion of Mistpelt, make your cat take exit from the thread.
- Mistpelt will be performing deputy-type duties here. Try not to get into any complicated convos. Don't interact too much with cats other than Mistpelt either
- No making this into a complex plot rp. It is important that, even if you find your cat hating or loving every hair on Mistpelt's body, you make your cat keep silent. If you are interested in rping with Mistpelt fully, contact Spec.
- Remember, this is meant to be a MASS CAT thread. We want to get through as many as possible so don't take up interaction if you don't need it.
- Try not to join if there are more than 3 cats interating with Mistpelt here, if there are please wait for one to leave. If someone becomes inactive whilst interacting just join XD
- It is NEVER too late to join!

~Edited by Rolo))

Te midnight cry of the treacherous owl lifted from the brightening skies. Night had ebbed and withdrawn its satin black hold upon the world, brimming with energy graced with Starclan in every pore. The sun slowly peeked out behind a orange pink horizon, the dawn of a new day. The she-cat lay slumped, curled up into a tight ball to evade a potentially uncomfortable night. Once again, her sleep was blessed with what was to come, yet flashes of Owlstar plagued her, the face of sin and horror. Mistpelt blamed her for the sin of the rest of the clan, for a leader must be responsible for the lives and spiritual health of every individual who called Fogclan their home. Her ears twitched, one of the few signs of life that slowly stirred the ivory pelted she cat. With a elegant yawn, her pearly whites were flashed, before raising herself onto her paws, claws extended briefly as she snapped into focus. Awakened, she ignored some of the other sleeping bodies beside her, before stepping forth from her den, making gradual circle around the entire proximity of the camp. Mostly, this was just due to her eye for detail. Anything out of the slightest peeked her interest, sometimes a frown, others with a more casual appeal. As far as she could see, the physical aspect of Fogclan was satisfied, it was their eternal souls that she was concerned for. When she had completed the minor and more personal task, she made a straight be-line for the fresh kill pile, sniffing meagerly at the few choice prey animals that lay out before her. She debated on taking a piece for herself, but she wasn't truly famished. Eat to live, don't live to eat.

[wild]

Like Jesus played letter
I'll drill through your hands

The smoky gray tom was awaking from his sleep. He opened one eyes just in time to see the deputy, Mistpelt, exiting the warriors den. He blinked open his eyes, heavy with sleep. The world remained blurry and unfocused for several heartbeats. He blinked his amber eyes until he saw the cats around him clearly. He eyed the sleeping bodies with distaste, and snorted. In his mind he knew they were all believers, but were they proper believers? He assumed not. Shadeclaw slowly rose to his paws and stretched, unsheathing the thorn-sharp contents of his paws. He yawned, revealing his sharp white teeth. He could not help but wonder what this day would be like.

Shadeclaw twitched his whiskers, and turned and made his way toward the exit. He closed his eyes as if to brace himself against the bright outside. It was chilly but dry, an unpleasant feeling. Shadeclaw opened his eyes not much wider than a slit. StarClan had not yet completely left him, as he spied a few glittering warriors still hanging in the purple sky. He opened his eyes fully now, and saw Mistpelt by the fresh-kill pile. He stared at her as he noticed she did not take any food. He was not so hungry himself. It was now that it dawned on Shadeclaw that he had never really had a conversation with the deputy. He figured now would be a good time, while the two were not to be interrupted by others. He calmly strode up to her, showing neither pride nor submission. "Good morning, Mistpelt," he greeted. His tone was not warm bu not cold. Shadeclaw was not grumpy, so he kept things neutral.

The stone for the curse you have blamed me
With love and devotion, I'll die as you sleep

lyrics; Welcome Home - Coheed and Cambria[Profanity Warning]

[Spec]

The chill allowed a reigning calm to take over her features, as much as possible without appearing off guard or too stiff, hinting of her discomfort to the weather. It was these times where she needed to show strength and conquer the coming Leaf Bare. Her training, tampering her entire body in preparation to these colder months have took its toll upon her body, muscle lean underneath her elegant ivory pelt. As the falcon, her catch remained motionless, her heart pounded proudly in her chest, ebbing on the soft lines of self contentedness. With a dismissive flick of her ringed tail, her paws steered her in the opposite direction, but not before her sea foam orbs darkened at the sight of one of her clanmates staring at her like a gawking apprentice. Once the figure registered inside of her head, she knew the individual to be one of faith, as much as she knew, at least. She wondered if Shadeclaw was hungry, noticing his close proximity towards the fresh kill pile. He appeared to have just woken, as she. Perhaps I woke him up. Good then, no warrior of mine will sleep away the morning. She nodded lightly in turn towards his greeting, voice especially bland, but she assumed it was because of his 'just woken up' state. Either way, it would have been rude to openly ignore his greeting. “Blessed morning, Shadeclaw.” She replied equally in return. Her voice was borderline placid, with just enough expression in her voice to make her appear concise. “How are you?”

[wild]

Shadeclaw narrowed his eyes as Mistpelt answered his greeting. He has a habit of doing that whenever someone first began talking to him, and he did not know why. How was he? Shadeclaw thought a moment. He was not sure how he was. He was not happy, not grouchy, and definitely not liking this weather. "I am fine thank you," he finally answered simply. His tone was a little more warm this time, now that he had woken up a little more and had gotten the greeting out of the way. "And you?" he asked. He sat down and licked his dark fur down. He kept one ear up for the deputy's answer. He did not want to miss it and risk looking foolish or ignorant.

[Spec]

The increasingly heating tone of his voice brought a tight smile to her face, a ghost of a grin just barely creasing her maw. She didn't have reason to question dear Shadeclaw's faith, and was as passionate as any child of her children, gathered in Starclan's grace. In her mind, she could definitely spare some positive emotion for the night black tom, for he possess no black mark against her wishes. Of course, he was coated in sin, but that was something she herself could correct and would do so naturally in the moons to come. Even she wasn't as perfect as she'd like to be. A breath of warm air escaped her partially parted jaw, seeping forth from her lips in a small chuckle of good will. It was a blessing indeed to be strong and well, in every single aspect of the individual ; body, mind, and soul. Likewise, she couldn't complain. “That's good to hear you're not hindered at all by Leaf Bare. Fogclan can't be weak, especially when those other clans are watching at their borders like vultures.” Her words were a controlled hiss, each syllable containing small yet obvious amounts of loathing, however subtle it appeared to be. Her pelt prickled at the thought, each spiking self consciously as she quickly bent her head over her chest and shoulders, smoothing down her fur to its former finery. When his customary response traveled to her ears, she glanced up towards him, tail flickering dully across her flank. Raising her head, she locked her sea foam gaze upon him, throwing a veiled grin over her face. “Well enough, thanks to Starclan. The cold does me good.”

[wild]

Shadeclaw lifted his head as Mistpelt began to speak, and he nodded, his amber eyes glinting like cold flint. He agreed that weakness within FogClan was not an option, and his whiskers twitched in amusement at he last words. He agreed with that as well. The other Clans were watching them, and Shadeclaw hated it as much as Mistpelt. From that mutual loathing, he could tell they could get along just fine. "Food will be hard to find of course," he began in response, "but we are FogClan. StarClan shall help us prevail." He reflected on the thought of the food. He kept his next thoughts to himself. He and Mistplet both knew that they would get by easily if they saved food and only gave it to those who deserved it. He figured Mistpelt was smart enough to already know that. He did not want to share things with her that she already knew, and he did not want to hinder a good impression.

Shadeclaw blinked in response to her next statement. He found he could not say much. This was the FogClan deputy he was talking to; and cat that he had not shared many words with until now. This was the first conversation he ever had with Mistpelt, and he was enjoying it. He was unsure whether Mistpelt had ever observed him and was able to sum up his personality, and if she didn't, he did not want to make her able to do that unless they became friends. Shadeclaw was not sure whether they ever would or not, as he was not the type to mingle or be friendly. He simply talked to his Clanmates, never exchanging personal information. He did not like talking about his past, as it was plagued with shadows that made even shady Shadeclaw uneasy. He still got those annoying looks from elders, so they still blamed him for his mothers deeds. Shadeclaw got a cold, dark look in his eyes, and his fur bristled.

Wanting to clear his head of these thoughts, and not give Mistpelt any negative ideas, he asked a question that seemed to enjoy nagging him. "Owlstar won't be leader for long," he began, adding in a silent hopefully. "I'm curious. Do you intend on changing anything when you assume leadership?" Shadeclaw was eager for the answer. This would help him mold an opinion of Mistpelt. He did not care for what a high ranking cat was like personally. He wanted to know how they would run things, whether he would ever be able to question them or not. He knew that he would be loyal to a leader that does things the same way he would. Shadeclaw would actually enforce the warrior code and give proper punishment to help build a clean and pure Clan, better than those other three Clans. His Clan would be blessed by StarClan. Shadeclaw looked at Mistpelt, the distance in his eyes waning as he returned his attention to her answer.

[Spec]

The ivory furred she-cat's predatory gaze struck the shadow hued tom at every angle, even now, persevering even word he uttered, sorting through her sight and using it to decipher his goals, his faith, perhaps even unravel any shady truths about his personality. At the start of every morning until the great sun dipped behind the horizon into Starclan's paws, her eyes were ever watchful. She even considered them to be one of her more appealing features, although her herself deemed herself beautiful, and hoped others felt the same way when they were around her. Starclan molded her in Their grand image, to walk the path Mistpelt was destined to walk upon. The road would be rough, with many obstacles that would soon test her endurance and faith, but she would prevail. Starclan willed it. Fogclan pride was one of the first things she tried to sort out when comparing herself towards the sea of souls around her. Since the Fog was the chosen clan, she found no flaw in his statement. For now. The little things seemed to irk her more than some of the more prominent deformities around her clan; every crack would need to be mended if she were to reveal Starclan's might against their filthy hides, stained with the blood of their sins. Her chin tilted a fraction of an inch, inclining down briefly as she acknowledged, and therefore approved his words. Fogclan would prevail indeed.

Her posture was precise, elegant, lowering upon her haunches and allowing a phantom breath of cool air to creep underneath her hinds, hovering about a inch off the ground. Long before his next words drifted from his maw, her attention was slowly diverting out of slight disinterest. It was out of habit, she assumed, that most cats did not quite catch her fancy so early off into a conversation, although when the meaning of his question registered inside her head, the slits inside her stormy optics sharpened back into reality. This was an interesting specimen! A tiny chuckle escaped her throat, sounding low and airy, previously caged in her chest. “Oh, are you so certain of that, dear Shadeclaw?” One of her eyebrows raised delicately above her brow, showing her amusement, fangs glinting crudely as her lips rose into a feral grin, cruel nobility shielded behind her gaze. “But you are correct.” her voice was a whisper now, having subsided into a more direct afront, so not to attract the attention of any treacherous betrayers of Starclan. “Owlstar has seen her last moons. It's only a matter of time now...But as to your question, I have a many things to say. First off, did you expect me to allow myself to role over and accept Owlstar's negligence?” All at once, a hiss formed across her features, the playfulness void from her voice, although business here would prevail over aggression. “I shall return Fogclan to their former glory in Starclan's name, as they willed me. It will be strict and precise, with no room for failure, and certainly without sin and blasphemers.”

[Cloud of Diamonds]

What frightening, yet enticing, words! As the brown tabby padded by, she couldn't help but overhear the two cats' conversation. Her eyes grew wide. Such audacity from their deputy! But then, if it was StarClan's will, it must not be questioned. And what power resided in the pale deputy's words...what authority! Birchtail stopped dead, her shallow mind considering these awe-inducing prospects. Why, such cleanliness would come of what Mistpelt said. Organization would flow in through StarClan's, and their servant's-no, embodiment's paws! So quickly had these visions come to the long-furred warrior, she knew it must be sign from the ancestors, this certainty, this knowledge that seemed to have struck her upon hearing those dear words. Why, her kits could grow up in a Clan free of sin, even. Suddenly, the striped FogClanner wanted nothing more than to join in the conversation, to pledge her willingness to help Mistpelt achieve her glorious vision. So, with a few quick licks over her long pelt, the amber-eyed cat smoothly padded over, sitting about a tail-length from the other cat-Shadeclaw, she remembered now. A slight hint of uncertainty about what would happen to Owlstar was brushed away like a cobweb as Birchtail seated herself beside her fellow believers. "Excuse me for eavesdropping, Mistpelt and Shadeclaw, but I was hearing your words as I went by, and they fascinated me. I think, Mistpelt, that your ideas are...astounding, to say the least. But I believe they are just what FogClan needs. For we are a great Clan, but with the ideas you voiced, our order and cleanliness would increase so, with StarClan's help! Please, speak more of these blessed ideas." Her eyes were bright with blind enthusiasm, her long tail excitedly swishing back and forth in her happiness.

[wild]

Shadeclaw allowed a smirk to cross his maw. A perfect Clan with no sin. How delightful. He could hardly wait. He knew from those statements that he was beginning to grow more and more fond of the deputy. If only he did not have that history, perhaps he could join her as she purged the Clan of filth. But then, Shadeclaw has broken the warrior code only a few times. He had chased a mouse onto another Clans territory, but he had never shared that with anyone. It was only brought up at a gathering. His only punishment was humiliation. He had gone against Owlstar's wishes a few times, but that was only because they were ridiculous. "In that case," he spoke suddenly, "I await your leadership. FogClan will become the greatest Clan in the forest." Shadeclaw had to stop himself from purring with delight. He liked Mistpelt. Her orders he would see no need to question. He was in fact willing to do anything asked at this point.

Shadeclaw looked up to see another approaching warrior. He recognized the scent of Birchtail, a she-cat he of course did not know well. Shadeclaw did not know any of his Clan particularly well, though he had an opinion of them all. So far, the only good one was Mistpelt. And judging by Birchtail's words at this moment, he could form a decent opinion of her as well. Shadeclaw was glad that he was not the only one who believed greatly in StarClan, and he was especially glad that these two cats shared his views. He was still uninterested in mingling, however. He grunted in response to Birchtail, then turned to faced Mistpelt. "Any orders for now?" he asked, showing obvious resentment towards further socializing. He did not want to share tongues with any other cats, as they did not interest him. Shadeclaw had his opinion, and this conversation was over. Just to safe, he would not share his opinion with anyone and risk putting him and Mistpelt in a bad position. The only exception of course would be Birchtail, as Shadeclaw was able to confirm that she was safe. He shifted his weight as he waited for Mistpelt's answer.

[Spec]

Like a stretching grimace of pleasure, the she-cat inclined her head, imaging a world without sin. Lost in thought and dream, only to be wretched back into reality once more. With a affirmative growl, she knew she would soon break the boundary between fantasy and reality, true and false. Their future was assuring, they would be cleansed, even if she had to join the ranks of Starclan in the end, she just hoped, like all mortal cats, her time would not come for her yet. There was so much more to do, rules to enforce, challenges to prevail over...their journey was long, but Mistpelt would be willing to sacrifice for the sake of her clans well being, but would these cats? Would they devote themselves with as much vigor and determination as she? The ivory female herself could only hope, casting feverish prayers up to her starry ancestors for guidance. Strength would be required, and bodies to enforce her voice, speaking for the will of Starclan. Her head rose, proudly displaying the figure of authority she would soon become, shadow reseeding over her form, secrecy would shortly be no longer required. To his words, she merely uttered two words, yet these words had such aggressive affirmation inside them it was strong no matter what tone she spoke in. “Praise Starclan.” Her voice ended the silent prayer, his words following his. They would surely be the strongest, purest, most favored and blessed, without a doubt now; Starclan could not lie.

It was then another figure padded up into her presence, a cat whom she instantly recognized as Birchtail. The striped she-cat's lyrics washed over her, a shiver of delight coursing through her veins like the lifeblood she was blessed with. They along stroked an unseen ego, the smallest purr indicating her rather wordless approval of the she-cat in front of her. Her kits would be saved, as would her own soul. Her ears twitched in her direction, acknowledging her briefly before she allowed her own voice, subtle and confident to drift form her maw. “Thank you, but Starclan themselves have blessed me with such reformative ideas. The credit goes towards Them. As a cat of faith, you understand that...With Their love and my leadership, your kits will grow pure and blessed. My Word will come shortly, perhaps in the next moon, we will unite.” She glanced towards the black furred tom, shifting his weight beside her, of course, her attention was more focused on his bright optics than the rest of his posture for now. “Keep this information more or less secret. We don't want Owlstar or her betrayers to hear a word. Volepelt and Rowanheart are safe to talk to, if you have any questions. Try and recruit a few to our cause, those who express interest in 'change'.” Her eyes glinted between the pair, valuing their worth where they stood. It was only a matter of time now.