Post by Cloud of Diamonds on May 15, 2011 23:43:41 GMT -5
Beyond Good and Evil or The Angels of FogClan
Author's Note: This is a series of events in Brightnose's life. If you're curious about the time gaps, some are explained in threads if you'd like to know about them.
Story:
All things have their source. Mine was my curiosity. Which in the end, did kill me. But I mustn’t think of that now. This was when I still blind, and thought I saw everything.
“Mom, why are there cats?”
Aroara snorted at her daughter’s stupidity. “Because there are. We were born from our parents,who were born from their parents. Back and back and back.”
“But where did we come from?”
Aroara relaxed; a question that made sense. “Well, I came from a breeder’s and your father came from a pound, and-”
“No, I mean, where did cats themselves come from? Did we grow from the ground at first, like plants?”
The tortoiseshell ground her teeth. Plants again! Why was Sunny always going on about them? Useless things, pretty maybe, but they meant nothing at all to a normal cat, which unfortunately her daughter was not.
“Don’t be ridiculous. We’re here because…we’re here, okay? Does it really matter, dear?”
The little kittypet looked up with her big brown and green eyes, whiskers twitching in confusion. “Why doesn’t it matter?” She chirped, countering. “I think we should know our origin. Anyway, so if we didn’t grow from the ground, maybe we fell from the sky?"
Aroara laughed, she couldn’t help it. But Sunny looked rather hurt and her mother swiftly adopted an expression of pity. “Look, dear, I appreciate that you’re so smart.” She licked the 8-moon-old cat on the head. “But please, no more questions.” “Why?” said the pouting kitten. And for once her mother had a straightforward answer: “Because I don’t like them, dear.” The multicolored queen said gently, then walked away.
And Sunny was left to wonder about the sin of curiosity.
---
“You’re late.” Said the old tabby accusingly as he yawned from his dirty, ramshackle nest. Sunny didn’t like him one bit, but he’d taught her more than her idiot parents put together.
“Like you need the food, Rotter. You’re getting fatter every day because I do your work for you.”
“Heh heh. Guess you’re worth your weight in herbs, Sunshine?” He leered at her, and she hissed back at him, knowing he was referring the herbs not used for healing.
“So can I have part of it, or do you want me to drop down dead?” She tried to look nonchalant, but in fact she was starving. She’d been too late to sneak into the Twoleg nest for food, and the only thing she’d caught, and therefore what had to be her tribute, was this half-starved finch.
Rotter looked at her with amusement, knowing her need. “Oh, eat some. I’m feeling generous today.”
The calico gasped exaggeratedly. “The shock. I think I’ve died and gone to heaven.”
Rotter laughed, his stubs of fangs showing. “Eh, take all of it. You won’t be able to make the rounds if all you’re thinking of is food.”
Sunny laughed too, though she knew he was cold and calculating to the bone, and he only feigned warmth because it amused him. He was a good actor though, to give him a credit, and a good teacher. But he cared only for the tribute he received for his services and the amusements he could have.
The day when she’d learned everything couldn’t come soon enough.
---
This was either the most brilliant, daring act of her life or the stupidest thing she’d ever done.
Her audience was full of the biggest hellions the Ranch had to offer, some threatening, some leering, some genuinely curious. A few were even some of Rotter’s old customers, who seemed to be whispering conspirationally. Probably placing bets on whether she would succeed.
Sunshine, as she’d renamed herself, looked down at the gaping red mess below her. The dusky brown tom was clearly suffering, his face clenched in pain on the wooden floor as he twitched, clawing.
Leaning down, she licked the wound, using the old trick of thinking she was only cleaning. She closed her eyes (a mistake, when she looked back on it) and scoured the area til the dried blood was dissolved and the fur were wet and smooth. The taste was half awful and half strangely tangy.
Then the calico licked her paw (eyes open now) and stuck it into the little heap of burdock, brought it to her mouth and chewed the bit, ignoring her patient’s moans. Then she spat it onto her paw and rubbed it in the wound, noting the toothmarks. That would lower the temperature (which would help the relief of pain) and help flush out any impurities from potential disease whatever had bitten him had had on its teeth.
Then she did the same with a bit of thyme – only a small amount, as the burdock would sting enough and it had been picked that very day, so it was quite potent. The thyme would further stave off infection and the bit she’d made him nibble would hopefully reduce his anxiety and relax his body, making it easier for him to heal.
The finishing touch were cobwebs, wrapped tightly around the edges of the wound to stop the slow, small amount of blood still leaking, and a few in the middle to ensure the herbs would stay on and soak in. She’d check the state of his dressing tomorrow.
“It’s done.” She announced, loudly enough so they all could hear.
There was no cheering, no exclamations of gratitude. Not even from the cat she’d just cured, as he was now falling into an uneasy sleep. Still, she could see the respect and wariness beginning in their eyes. Good. This wasn’t free. This was a demonstration. But though she couldn’t show it, she felt a pure thrill at being able to use her skill. She felt a bit sorry for the poor sufferer who’d had to get chomped so she could secure her place, but hey, no pain no gain.
She despised Rotter, but he’d known what he was talking about when he taught her to deal with rogues.
---
“Sunshine, StarClan themselves has shown you to us so you may be made aware of their blessing upon you and your ability to heal. By the powers of StarClan, I name you Brightnose. We welcome you as a full medicine cat of FogClan.”
The new medicine cat smiled politely, though she didn’t really feel anything other than mild satisfaction. Of course she’d gained her place, it was obvious they needed someone with her skills. This StarClan thing was interesting too – it excited her somewhat like she hadn’t felt in moons. Best of all she’d have plenty of chances to use her skill and be adored. Not that she needed adoration, but it was funny to see these cats act all pompous when really they would be the ones depending on her.
They were just like rogues, really, except with better manners. All just a bunch of breakable, fragile beings that needed help and thought they mattered sooooo much. Any loyalty she felt to them was entirely because she’d always be paid.
Whatever affection she’d felt for other living beings was so bland now that she barely regarded most of them as real. All that mattered to Brightnose was the pursuit of her own ambitions.
---
Well, she’d certainly found a few cats to regard as real now.
That Owlstar. Brave. Daring. Pompous, definitely. But so certain and convinced of her faith that the hazel-eyed skeptic couldn’t help but feel some respect for her. StarClan was an interesting concept, that was for sure. It answered a lot of questions, but it created many as well.
Still, they weren’t hard to believe in, and she did most of the real work anyway. That dream, though. Where that old cat had congratulated her – that seemed pretty real. Still…doubts were healthy. Discussing them was fun though, and it was especially amusing to see some cats practically begging at their starry idols’ paws. Maybe cats went to StarClan just to laugh at the sillies who bent over backwards to make them happy.
Virtue, sin – what difference was there, besides who suffered and who didn’t? They were simply different means to ends. But oh no, there was some sort of rhyme and reason to it all, apparently. Brightnose wasn’t certain, but she believed that life didn’t have any point besides what you made of it, which validated their beliefs in a way, she guessed. You project what you want to see, and it’s there.
She felt smugly confident that she saw life as it truly was, and was one of the few who actually did.
The irony was lost upon the calico at the time.
---
“ Brightnose!”
“Mmm? Oh, yes, Rowanheart. What is it?”
The ginger warrior trotted eagerly into her den, knocking over a few piles of herbs. His excited face turned apologetic momentarily but then reverted to its oh-my-StarClan look. He took a deep breath like he had some big surprise for her.
“Brightnose, how would you like to have an apprentice?”
The question did surprise her. Especially because none of the little furballs in the nursery had shown the faintest interest in medicine. However, she rarely visited them either, so maybe one did have potential. She’d need to take an apprentice one day, after all. Maybe if it were the right kind of cat it would be all right.
“Maybe. Who do you have in mind?”
“Finchkit. My son.”
She knew absolutely nothing about the little tom besides the fact that he was one of Rowanheart’s two children and his mother had died while giving birth to him. Maybe he was suitable, maybe he wasn’t. Oh well, might as well try, since it would be difficult for her to refuse. If he failed she could always take another eventually.
“Sure. Tell Owlstar and I’ll be there at this ceremony."
---
Here they were, many moons later. Watching as fate shifted around them.
Watching as a new leader ascended, for reasons as unreadable as the mist of her name. What were her true motives? Why was she accusing Owlstar of sin? And most of all, why hadn’t Brightnose herself been alerted of this? Wasn’t she the closest to StarClan?
Wasn’t she? Had she doubted too much? No. She would know if this was logical. It felt anything but. Whether it was right or wrong mattered not, but Brightnose realized now that she owed the black and white leader a debt for admitting her, and tried to defend her.
She failed.
For the first time in her life, Brightnose felt a sense of regret.
---
“Go!”
“But I-”
“Just go! They’ll be here any minute! This is the only chance…for both of you.” She said, looking at the silver she-cat and the ginger and white tom.
Frostpaw simply appraised her, inscrutable as ever. “She’s right, Finchpaw. They catch us now, we’ll be lucky to still have our lives, never mind our freedom. PineClan is our only hope.”
Finchpaw looked torn. Brightnose could guess some of what he was thinking. Abandon everything he had known, friends and family, and escape with his love. It only made sense. Frostpaw felt no regret. The tri-colored cat didn’t blame her. FogClan was no more than a hell right now, a hell masquerading as heaven, and the cynical apprentice had no one except the tom beside her.
But now that the Clan knew what they truly thought, Miststar and her slaves wouldn’t rest until they had them.
Even Brightnose was now replaceable – in training Icethroat, she made herself less valuable. Still, it was nearly over. She knew the rebels, with the few PineClanners who were secretly helping them, would overthrow the Council and its maniacal leader in less than a half moon. It was too long to wait for the desperate pair, though.
She could already hear the thump of running paws, maybe a minute away.
“Leave! I’ll cover for you!” She pushed them both away, and before Finchpaw left, running like the wind she heard him whisper, “I won’t forget you.”
I won’t forget you.
The paws came closer.
I won’t forget you, either.
They stopped.
The wounded, battered medicine cat looked up.
“Just who I wanted to see.” She meowed, and laughed.
Rowanheart had a mad look in his eyes, beyond angry. It was insane.
“YOU!”
He jumped on her, pinning her flat. She made no attempt to resist.
I won’t forget you.
He leaned down into her face, and in that hate-filled glance Brightnose realized what love was. It was beyond good and evil, beyond emotion, beyond reason. It made cats do wonderful, terrible things.
It destroyed and built. It killed and was it made things be born.
He leaned back, snarling, pulling his lips back to show shining, sharp teeth.
What a wasted life. She’d done so much good but hadn’t realized that she’d done it, thinking only of herself. She’d been horrible too – to Finchpaw, to Frostpaw, to everyone in her horrible, passive aggressive way.
He slashed at her shoulders, and she wailed in pain.
Yet she’d started to realize, near the end. Started to know what true consciousness was, what it was like to be what you truly were and go where you wanted.
He raked his claws all around her body, lacerating her insides.
“This is my pain! You stole my son! You healed the PineClanner! You stopped them from being saved! I HATE YOU!”
I am only pain now. Yet I am light, too. I am rising from this existence into another. I understand the truth of sin. It is not only how you hurt others. It is how you hurt yourself, from not understanding, from not being aware of your own actions. It is how you can feel so damaged, so beyond repair, that you feel the need to spread the pain of your sin, whether you are aware of it or not, and infect others.
He leaned down to her neck, baring his fangs.
Virtue is not only being good – it is realizing that sometimes good can turn into bad, and bad can turn into good. It is not only the virtuous things you do for others, but how you heal yourself through your faith that there is another way, another day, another truth waiting to be discovered.
He bit.
The hazel eyes closed.
I am no angel. I never had wings because I never deserved them, because I was just like those I despised. My only saving grace is that I was always curious, always trying. But I hope that the true angels – Owlstar, Crowpaw, Finchpaw, Frostpaw maybe – live on.
He killed.
I won't forget you, world. Plants. Cats. Philosophy. I loved you, but only now am I free.
StarClan, forgive me.
Author's Note: This is a series of events in Brightnose's life. If you're curious about the time gaps, some are explained in threads if you'd like to know about them.
Story:
All things have their source. Mine was my curiosity. Which in the end, did kill me. But I mustn’t think of that now. This was when I still blind, and thought I saw everything.
“Mom, why are there cats?”
Aroara snorted at her daughter’s stupidity. “Because there are. We were born from our parents,who were born from their parents. Back and back and back.”
“But where did we come from?”
Aroara relaxed; a question that made sense. “Well, I came from a breeder’s and your father came from a pound, and-”
“No, I mean, where did cats themselves come from? Did we grow from the ground at first, like plants?”
The tortoiseshell ground her teeth. Plants again! Why was Sunny always going on about them? Useless things, pretty maybe, but they meant nothing at all to a normal cat, which unfortunately her daughter was not.
“Don’t be ridiculous. We’re here because…we’re here, okay? Does it really matter, dear?”
The little kittypet looked up with her big brown and green eyes, whiskers twitching in confusion. “Why doesn’t it matter?” She chirped, countering. “I think we should know our origin. Anyway, so if we didn’t grow from the ground, maybe we fell from the sky?"
Aroara laughed, she couldn’t help it. But Sunny looked rather hurt and her mother swiftly adopted an expression of pity. “Look, dear, I appreciate that you’re so smart.” She licked the 8-moon-old cat on the head. “But please, no more questions.” “Why?” said the pouting kitten. And for once her mother had a straightforward answer: “Because I don’t like them, dear.” The multicolored queen said gently, then walked away.
And Sunny was left to wonder about the sin of curiosity.
---
“You’re late.” Said the old tabby accusingly as he yawned from his dirty, ramshackle nest. Sunny didn’t like him one bit, but he’d taught her more than her idiot parents put together.
“Like you need the food, Rotter. You’re getting fatter every day because I do your work for you.”
“Heh heh. Guess you’re worth your weight in herbs, Sunshine?” He leered at her, and she hissed back at him, knowing he was referring the herbs not used for healing.
“So can I have part of it, or do you want me to drop down dead?” She tried to look nonchalant, but in fact she was starving. She’d been too late to sneak into the Twoleg nest for food, and the only thing she’d caught, and therefore what had to be her tribute, was this half-starved finch.
Rotter looked at her with amusement, knowing her need. “Oh, eat some. I’m feeling generous today.”
The calico gasped exaggeratedly. “The shock. I think I’ve died and gone to heaven.”
Rotter laughed, his stubs of fangs showing. “Eh, take all of it. You won’t be able to make the rounds if all you’re thinking of is food.”
Sunny laughed too, though she knew he was cold and calculating to the bone, and he only feigned warmth because it amused him. He was a good actor though, to give him a credit, and a good teacher. But he cared only for the tribute he received for his services and the amusements he could have.
The day when she’d learned everything couldn’t come soon enough.
---
This was either the most brilliant, daring act of her life or the stupidest thing she’d ever done.
Her audience was full of the biggest hellions the Ranch had to offer, some threatening, some leering, some genuinely curious. A few were even some of Rotter’s old customers, who seemed to be whispering conspirationally. Probably placing bets on whether she would succeed.
Sunshine, as she’d renamed herself, looked down at the gaping red mess below her. The dusky brown tom was clearly suffering, his face clenched in pain on the wooden floor as he twitched, clawing.
Leaning down, she licked the wound, using the old trick of thinking she was only cleaning. She closed her eyes (a mistake, when she looked back on it) and scoured the area til the dried blood was dissolved and the fur were wet and smooth. The taste was half awful and half strangely tangy.
Then the calico licked her paw (eyes open now) and stuck it into the little heap of burdock, brought it to her mouth and chewed the bit, ignoring her patient’s moans. Then she spat it onto her paw and rubbed it in the wound, noting the toothmarks. That would lower the temperature (which would help the relief of pain) and help flush out any impurities from potential disease whatever had bitten him had had on its teeth.
Then she did the same with a bit of thyme – only a small amount, as the burdock would sting enough and it had been picked that very day, so it was quite potent. The thyme would further stave off infection and the bit she’d made him nibble would hopefully reduce his anxiety and relax his body, making it easier for him to heal.
The finishing touch were cobwebs, wrapped tightly around the edges of the wound to stop the slow, small amount of blood still leaking, and a few in the middle to ensure the herbs would stay on and soak in. She’d check the state of his dressing tomorrow.
“It’s done.” She announced, loudly enough so they all could hear.
There was no cheering, no exclamations of gratitude. Not even from the cat she’d just cured, as he was now falling into an uneasy sleep. Still, she could see the respect and wariness beginning in their eyes. Good. This wasn’t free. This was a demonstration. But though she couldn’t show it, she felt a pure thrill at being able to use her skill. She felt a bit sorry for the poor sufferer who’d had to get chomped so she could secure her place, but hey, no pain no gain.
She despised Rotter, but he’d known what he was talking about when he taught her to deal with rogues.
---
“Sunshine, StarClan themselves has shown you to us so you may be made aware of their blessing upon you and your ability to heal. By the powers of StarClan, I name you Brightnose. We welcome you as a full medicine cat of FogClan.”
The new medicine cat smiled politely, though she didn’t really feel anything other than mild satisfaction. Of course she’d gained her place, it was obvious they needed someone with her skills. This StarClan thing was interesting too – it excited her somewhat like she hadn’t felt in moons. Best of all she’d have plenty of chances to use her skill and be adored. Not that she needed adoration, but it was funny to see these cats act all pompous when really they would be the ones depending on her.
They were just like rogues, really, except with better manners. All just a bunch of breakable, fragile beings that needed help and thought they mattered sooooo much. Any loyalty she felt to them was entirely because she’d always be paid.
Whatever affection she’d felt for other living beings was so bland now that she barely regarded most of them as real. All that mattered to Brightnose was the pursuit of her own ambitions.
---
Well, she’d certainly found a few cats to regard as real now.
That Owlstar. Brave. Daring. Pompous, definitely. But so certain and convinced of her faith that the hazel-eyed skeptic couldn’t help but feel some respect for her. StarClan was an interesting concept, that was for sure. It answered a lot of questions, but it created many as well.
Still, they weren’t hard to believe in, and she did most of the real work anyway. That dream, though. Where that old cat had congratulated her – that seemed pretty real. Still…doubts were healthy. Discussing them was fun though, and it was especially amusing to see some cats practically begging at their starry idols’ paws. Maybe cats went to StarClan just to laugh at the sillies who bent over backwards to make them happy.
Virtue, sin – what difference was there, besides who suffered and who didn’t? They were simply different means to ends. But oh no, there was some sort of rhyme and reason to it all, apparently. Brightnose wasn’t certain, but she believed that life didn’t have any point besides what you made of it, which validated their beliefs in a way, she guessed. You project what you want to see, and it’s there.
She felt smugly confident that she saw life as it truly was, and was one of the few who actually did.
The irony was lost upon the calico at the time.
---
“ Brightnose!”
“Mmm? Oh, yes, Rowanheart. What is it?”
The ginger warrior trotted eagerly into her den, knocking over a few piles of herbs. His excited face turned apologetic momentarily but then reverted to its oh-my-StarClan look. He took a deep breath like he had some big surprise for her.
“Brightnose, how would you like to have an apprentice?”
The question did surprise her. Especially because none of the little furballs in the nursery had shown the faintest interest in medicine. However, she rarely visited them either, so maybe one did have potential. She’d need to take an apprentice one day, after all. Maybe if it were the right kind of cat it would be all right.
“Maybe. Who do you have in mind?”
“Finchkit. My son.”
She knew absolutely nothing about the little tom besides the fact that he was one of Rowanheart’s two children and his mother had died while giving birth to him. Maybe he was suitable, maybe he wasn’t. Oh well, might as well try, since it would be difficult for her to refuse. If he failed she could always take another eventually.
“Sure. Tell Owlstar and I’ll be there at this ceremony."
---
Here they were, many moons later. Watching as fate shifted around them.
Watching as a new leader ascended, for reasons as unreadable as the mist of her name. What were her true motives? Why was she accusing Owlstar of sin? And most of all, why hadn’t Brightnose herself been alerted of this? Wasn’t she the closest to StarClan?
Wasn’t she? Had she doubted too much? No. She would know if this was logical. It felt anything but. Whether it was right or wrong mattered not, but Brightnose realized now that she owed the black and white leader a debt for admitting her, and tried to defend her.
She failed.
For the first time in her life, Brightnose felt a sense of regret.
---
“Go!”
“But I-”
“Just go! They’ll be here any minute! This is the only chance…for both of you.” She said, looking at the silver she-cat and the ginger and white tom.
Frostpaw simply appraised her, inscrutable as ever. “She’s right, Finchpaw. They catch us now, we’ll be lucky to still have our lives, never mind our freedom. PineClan is our only hope.”
Finchpaw looked torn. Brightnose could guess some of what he was thinking. Abandon everything he had known, friends and family, and escape with his love. It only made sense. Frostpaw felt no regret. The tri-colored cat didn’t blame her. FogClan was no more than a hell right now, a hell masquerading as heaven, and the cynical apprentice had no one except the tom beside her.
But now that the Clan knew what they truly thought, Miststar and her slaves wouldn’t rest until they had them.
Even Brightnose was now replaceable – in training Icethroat, she made herself less valuable. Still, it was nearly over. She knew the rebels, with the few PineClanners who were secretly helping them, would overthrow the Council and its maniacal leader in less than a half moon. It was too long to wait for the desperate pair, though.
She could already hear the thump of running paws, maybe a minute away.
“Leave! I’ll cover for you!” She pushed them both away, and before Finchpaw left, running like the wind she heard him whisper, “I won’t forget you.”
I won’t forget you.
The paws came closer.
I won’t forget you, either.
They stopped.
The wounded, battered medicine cat looked up.
“Just who I wanted to see.” She meowed, and laughed.
Rowanheart had a mad look in his eyes, beyond angry. It was insane.
“YOU!”
He jumped on her, pinning her flat. She made no attempt to resist.
I won’t forget you.
He leaned down into her face, and in that hate-filled glance Brightnose realized what love was. It was beyond good and evil, beyond emotion, beyond reason. It made cats do wonderful, terrible things.
It destroyed and built. It killed and was it made things be born.
He leaned back, snarling, pulling his lips back to show shining, sharp teeth.
What a wasted life. She’d done so much good but hadn’t realized that she’d done it, thinking only of herself. She’d been horrible too – to Finchpaw, to Frostpaw, to everyone in her horrible, passive aggressive way.
He slashed at her shoulders, and she wailed in pain.
Yet she’d started to realize, near the end. Started to know what true consciousness was, what it was like to be what you truly were and go where you wanted.
He raked his claws all around her body, lacerating her insides.
“This is my pain! You stole my son! You healed the PineClanner! You stopped them from being saved! I HATE YOU!”
I am only pain now. Yet I am light, too. I am rising from this existence into another. I understand the truth of sin. It is not only how you hurt others. It is how you hurt yourself, from not understanding, from not being aware of your own actions. It is how you can feel so damaged, so beyond repair, that you feel the need to spread the pain of your sin, whether you are aware of it or not, and infect others.
He leaned down to her neck, baring his fangs.
Virtue is not only being good – it is realizing that sometimes good can turn into bad, and bad can turn into good. It is not only the virtuous things you do for others, but how you heal yourself through your faith that there is another way, another day, another truth waiting to be discovered.
He bit.
The hazel eyes closed.
I am no angel. I never had wings because I never deserved them, because I was just like those I despised. My only saving grace is that I was always curious, always trying. But I hope that the true angels – Owlstar, Crowpaw, Finchpaw, Frostpaw maybe – live on.
He killed.
I won't forget you, world. Plants. Cats. Philosophy. I loved you, but only now am I free.
StarClan, forgive me.
We have a cbox again and we're opening the place up as a closed, members only rp