Old Cat, Old Tricks

[Smokeleaf]

Yellow eyes. Blinking. Watching. Waiting. Waiting for the tiniest possible slip-up, for anything that could bring a little excitement to his dull morning; he had, after all, woken up a whole *ten minutes ago and still hadn't hissed at a single cat. Ravensoul's dark pelt bristled slightly as he placed himself down - sitting isn't exactly the word for a maneuver as majestic and haughty as this - and wrapped his long, thin tail over his snow-like paws. The Clan was barely moving, and though this was probably the reason for his lack of something to do, he couldn't help but purr over the thought of scolding the cats for over-sleeping in a few moments time. He could be patient. After all, there was nothing quite like seeing the resentment in a queen's eyes as she longed to defend her kit. Ravensoul did not wish to be loved; he wished to be respected. And as far as he was concerned, fear was pretty much the same thing.

*ooc: I don't know the cat equivalent of a minute. If anybody does, it would be much appreciated.

[[[ShAdYCaUStI]]]

She blinked. Ravensoul was awake. She could feel his scorn and hatred from here. It was always the same. She wasn't sure how she'd been born into SootClan's tradition of contempt and bad feelings. Where the other cats were sullen, angry, hate filled, or simply terrified, she was cheerful, curious, interested, and sympathetic. Much good it does anyone, she thought, momentarily bitter. Sometimes she looked forward to leaving SootClan. To escape the shadows of fear and distrust that hung over it all. On the other hand, what did a queen do once she'd left her clan? She supposed any number of other she-cats could answer her questions. She-cats who had left.

In the meantime, there was Ravensoul. Ravensoul with his dark glower and cruel remarks and lack of compassion, empathy, or conscience. Ravensoul who would alternately torture and ignore the she-cats and kits. Ravensoul who was always cruel and cold. She shuddered. No, she should never have been born in SootClan. She was nothing like the other cats. Nothing like the subdued, brow-beaten queens around her. Nothing like the scared kits or the cruel warriors.

Another day, though. Another day in which anything could happen. Another day in which perhaps - perhaps, though it was unlikely - perhaps she would hear a kind word. Perhaps today something good would happen, or she would do something to earn the respect of Ravensoul. Perhaps...

There were so many 'perhaps' ideas in her mind. Time to get up and see whether any of them would really happen. Of course not. Of course there would be nothing more than the usual day. But perhaps... perhaps... She approached Ravensoul.

[Smokeleaf]

"Jadedtail." The dark cat's voice was monotone, free of all expression. He was not calling her, or scolding her, or spitting her name like something bitter he'd have rather not tasted. No, it was like he was just trying it on for size. He used to do that a long time ago; or at least what felt like it. When he was an apprentice, when he was thinking about whom he would choose for a mate, he often thought about her, and her... her... spunk. That was really the only way he could put it. She wasn't like the other she-cats, with their whining and crying and cringing at raised voices like stupid kits. Jadedtail was lively, and useful, he thought. Yes. Jadedtail. Pain was weakness. Acceptance was weakness. Being like everybody else... weakness.
He was, in truth, proud to have Jadedtail as his mate. Unfortunately, it was his duty to make her think opposite. Mushy emotions would only make the work slower; fury would hasten the pace. That was why he treated her - and the other she-cats - the way he did. And plus, that's just the way he was raised. And you can't exactly teach an old cat new tricks.

[[[ShAdYCaUStI]]]

She heard him say her name and suppressed a shudder. Her name that had been given to her as a reminder that her nature was wrong. She was wrong. A reminder that she-cats were not meant to be happy, or curious, or impetuous, or perky. She-cats were meant to be downtrodden, quiet, dutiful, cringing. She-cats were meant to be the slaves, the scum, the scapegoats. They were meant to endure life, not enjoy it. They were not meant to think, or to have ideas, or to make decisions, or to be spontaneous. They fought when they were told to fight, they bore kittens, they caught food, and they took the verbal lashings and physical cuffs and scratches and bites that they were given. That was a she-cat's duty; that was why she had been placed on the earth, in SootClan.

And then there was Jadedtail. Jadedtail who would not be subdued. Jadedtail who would not be cuffed and sat on until each day was nothing more than another time of suffering to be endured silently, to be taken as the lot of a she-cat. Jadedtail who wanted to know, wanted to understand, wanted to run and feel the wind. Jadedtail who always cared too much and always appeared cheerful when she ought to be submissive and sullen. Jadedtail who could not hide her anger and fury at the injustice of her lot in life. Jadedtail who had no choice in the matter of her life. No choice as to whether she would be a warrior. No choice as to whether she would have a mate. No choice as to whether that mate would be Ravensoul. She suppressed a growl and flexed her claws tensely, trying to relieve the infuriating madness that came over her when she thought about the harsh cat sitting in the entrance of the den.

What did that mean, that curious tone of voice as he said her name? Did it mean he was pleased or that he was angry? Or did he even care? Did he even notice that she was a living thing, not a stone that, being too large to move aside, must be walked across?

She dipped her head, knowing from past experience that at least appearing subservient would excuse her from a cuff for insolence. She debated whether or not to speak, and then supposed that he could not complain at her bidding him good morning, considering he had spoken first.

"Good day," she mewed. Her voice was lower than most she-cats, betraying no emotion. She had learnt long ago to cover her joys and sorrows. The wrong tone would rub his mood the wrong way and he would turn on her. It was a narrow line she walked, and a sharp drop should her deft paws miss the mark.

[Smokeleaf]

Ravensoul closed his greenish-yellow eyes in what seemed to be exasperation. He inhaled deeply, then released his breath in a sharp sigh. He then stood and turned, all in one fluid motion, to face the she-cat. "Good day," he said quickly, almost harshly, yet there were no foul indications in his greeting. Perhaps he was mocking her. He himself didn't know. "Nice to see you up so early. Basking in the sun, are we? It seems to be the only reason you'd get up when there is work to be done."
His only intention was to get the Clan moving. He didn't even notice that his words might offend her; that his words might offend anyone, even when they weren't the target of his abuse. If he did, maybe he wouldn't have said them. Or maybe he wouldn't have cared. Who knew? You couldn't change him; he'd been taught to act like that from the day he'd been kitted. It wasn't wrong; it was life. And Jadedtail was the only cat who refused to believe it.

[[[ShAdYCaUStI]]]

She did not flinch under his mocking, sarcastic tone. Didn't even twitch a whisker or blink a pretty eye. That was how Ravensoul was; cruel by habit, as if the thought of being anything less acerbic had never occurred to his dominating mind. Had anyone spoken thus to him? Had he ever been cut, stung, wounded by a tone or a word? She doubted it. Not Ravensoul. Even if someone had spoken cruelly to him, she was sure he would only take it in stride, and let it teach him only that he could speak more cruelly, wound more deeply, and nothing would change. Nothing ever changed. And then the natural cheerfulness she had somehow been given rose to the surface and she sat on her haunches and curled her tail prettily around her small forepaws.

"The sun sets every night and rises every morning," she responded in a tone that was deceptively submissive. "Is it so wrong to enjoy something that I haven't always got? Leaf-bare comes all to soon, and then her rays are pale and cold. It seems ungrateful to long for her warmth and ignore her when she comes." Of course she was being fanciful, whimsical, impractical. The sun was in the sky, and it left every night, came every morning, always had and always would. Leaf-bare always came and then it always rolled away leaving a fresh world. Always had and always would. And of course her acerbic mate would only fault her for her harmless, light whimsy. There was always something to fault, something not done well enough. Is he ever satisfied? she wondered silently, a wee bit bitterly. Is he ever content with anyone aside from himself? Does he know that other cats are not the same as he is? And that perhaps differences are not defects? Of course not. Of course Ravensoul saw as a grave error anything apart from his personality. Anything unlike, anything not akin to his harsh sarcasm, cruel stabs, and rough tyranny was to be looked down upon, trampled underfoot, thoroughly destroyed if possible.

Things like her cheerful nature and impetuous curiosity. Things like joy and simple pleasures such as basking in the morning sunlight. Which, of course, she had not been.

[Smokeleaf]

"Oh! The sun! It is so wonderful! Thank you, StarClan, for the gifts you have bestowed upon us! Will we ever be worthy?" He rolled his eyes and scowled. "Goodness me, Jadedtail. You sound like those stupid TimberClanners more and more each day. It doesn't matter to us if the sun gets cold in the leaf-bare. We are of the Flaming Eternal, are we not? We don't need the sun to stay warm. All we need is the fire of our ancestors. And anyhow, the sun will always come back. The only way it won't is if the mountain exploded again..." He allowed himself to trail off, which was not something he allowed often, then caught himself and coughed importantly. "In order to better thank our ancestors for their gifts, we must work to keep their blood alive. We have the sun to warm us while we work, not while we laze about like stupid kits. Try to do your ancestors proud, for once. Try to do your Clan proud."

[[[ShAdYCaUStI]]]

The pretty white cat tried not to feel the pain of his sarcasm. She knew she was not a perfect cat. She knew she fell short in too many areas. She knew he wished he had someone who would measure up to his unattainable standard of perfection; but he had not, and she could not. She wished she had something to sheild her from the sharp attacks and the pain that followed. Like paws in leaf-bare, she wished she could become numb after a time and stop feeling the cruel cuts. But she never did. Each remark cut as deep as the last, and she suppressed a shudder; tried not to draw back; made a valiant attempt to keep her composure and her mask in place. She hoped it would never slip near Ravensoul. She retained too much pride to ever be comfortable with him seeing anything beyond the impenetrable facade she held so meticulously in place.

Why me? she thought for the hundredth - thousandth - time. Out of every she-cat in the clan, why had the leader picked her? He obviously despised her beyond all the rest. Why hadn't he left her where she was, to suffer out her time in relative peace, without his acerbic voice to torment her every moment? Only the ancestors knew.

She covered a sigh and let her head drop a little, hoping she looked sufficiently chastised.

"What work would you have me perform?" she asked, her voice muted and subdued. "If work is what you desire, let me by no means be found slacking." Today was going to be rough. Her natural spirits wanted to rise and cover everything dark with a cheerful cover; but she could not allow that. Not here. Not now. Not with Ravensoul glaring at her so coldly.

[Smokeleaf]

Ravensoul was surprised. He had expected her to fight back; that's what he had intended for her to do. She was the only she-cat who had the nerve to do so, and he, well, liked that. He liked the tenseness he felt in his fur when she sharply retorted, and the fury that rose in his blood, and even the irritation that tingled in his paws whenever she passed his way. It was a strange type of attraction, but it was attraction all the same. No cat could understand it; no living cat, at least.
Still undiscouraged, he tried again. "Trying to feign imperfection, eh? Come on, Jadedtail, we all know you're so wonderful and contented. Surely you know better than anyone how you can please the Clan?"
He didn't even try to hide the irony in his voice. Stupid she-cat. What would she come up with next?

ooc: I'm trying to think of something we'll have to do together; with no one else in SootClan, I don't think wandering around individually will make for good roleplay... Maybe we can try a border patrol... and ask Molten to come attack SootClan instead, at least for the time being? Killing two birds with one stone?

[[[ShAdYCaUStI]]]

ooc;; after your PM I'm feeling free to post an OOC without a roleplay - I have about two minutes exactly right now. =) Sounds like a wonderful idea to me - gotta admit I'm starting to have a grudging fondness for Ravensoul - I am, mind you, not Jaded =) At anyrate, whatever you do, I'll follow along. Luv ya dahling -

[Smokeleaf]

ooc: Haha. I tend to play annoying cats; and you notice that cats that aren't annoying, I don't roleplay often?
I shall pm her and see what she thinks. We need more to do than rant and rave at each other.

[[[ShAdYCaUStI]]]

ooc;; uhuh that's right. 'Sok though. I was actually thinking I might let Jaded end up liking poor Raven after all; but it would take a while. Right now his personality is kinda fascinating, but prosaically he's a jerk. -shudder- =) Anyway, it's all good. You're great with them, anyway, so have at it! Someone has to play the mean cats. Most of the time I forget they're supposed to be mean when I'm playing them and they end up way out of personality!

WOW! Idea flash! K this might be awful and maybe I need to ask Night about it, but ya know how the plot's gonna go with Phantom and all that? Well what if Jaded starts having dreams about it? Like, not specifically, but just... general forebodings? I'll play it really light for now until I've got an answer.

bic::
Jaded sighed. She was tired today. She hadn't slept well; strange dreams of tangled darkness and twisted shadows, creeping closer, always closer; and she couldn't run. Just dreams - but they left her weary, not only physically from lack of sleep, but emotionally weary and raw. She didn't have the energy to be her usual perky self amidst the sarcasm and obvious hostility of the clan in general and her mate in particular. She didn't have the energy to invent clever responses or to answer with cheerful smiles when every word, look and gesture dragged her spirits downward. Why did he bait her so? She remembered the day she had watched one of the warriors playing with a mouse, poking and prodding, letting it run, and then pouncing; playing with it, tormenting it before cutting its small life short. Ravensoul did that with her; why did he play with her so? In the end he always cut her spirits short, put a heavy paw down on whatever light feelings she might have. Why torture her thus? What pleasure did it give him, seeing her suffer? She didn't have the energy to find one of her usual bright answers for his ironic cruelties and sarcastic cuts.

"I am here to serve the clan," she murmured, wondering as she said it why the words sounded wrong in her ears. Every other she-cat in the clan accepted their fate; why could she not? "What would you have me do?"

[Smokeleaf]

ooc: Sounds good to me! I'd rather it you than me, to be honest, and since we don't have a medicine cat to do it... or an apprentice... or a warrior... or ANYTHING...
bic:
"Border patrol," Ravensoul replied tartly, not even taking the time to think it over. "I do not wish to have rogues in my territory," which basically meant she-cats, "and anyway, we need fresh-kill. Not that these mousebrains deserve it. And to spare you any temptation, I'll go with you. A stupid cat like you will need a guide, after all."
While this was completely true, part of him also wanted to check up on her. He could see a darkness in her eyes, like there was something nagging her, and she wasn't her usual chipper self. Something was wrong, and he wanted to make sure it didn't get in the way of her productivity. That was the last thing this lazy Clan needed.

[[[ShAdYCaUStI]]]

ooc;; well then we'll do that. If Night or Darkie don't like it... we'll fix it later. xD

bic::
Border patrols. Rogues. Ravensoul didn't really care about border patrols and rogues; or rather, he did, but not nearly as much as it might seem. A way to keep she-cats busy and perhaps kill a few off. Hunting was another thing; she could see that the fresh-kill pile needed replenishing. She wouldn't mind a trip on her own. It would give her time to think, time to wonder, time to shake off the darkness that nipped at the edges of her waking mind after disturbing dreams. Give her time alone. Or so she thought, until she heard him saying that he would come with her.

Why? Why must he follow her? He obviously disliked her and took no pleasure in her company. Must he yet attatch himself to her? For what purpose? To continue to torment her? Why? Or perhaps he thought she needed looking after; did he trust her so little after so many long moons? Or, as a she-cat, was she simply so inferior that she required constant looking after? He had never in the past taken that approach. Her eyes narrowed slightly, those unnerving blue eyes, oddly shaped in her squashed-up face. No matter.

She rose, not appearing much taller standing than she had sitting, because her legs were so short. She delicately licked one small forepaw, brushed it over her face, and then padded quickly out. No reason to waste another moment before leaving. No reason to make any reply to his cruel comments. No reason to acknowledge his unwanted presence as she set off.

[Smokeleaf]

When imagining Ravensoul's reaction, try to picture those twoleg apprentice movies, where the proud she-twoleg stalks off and leaves a confused tom behind, at which point he quickly and awkwardly catches up.
Emphasis on awkwardly. Which is exactly why Ravensoul didn't like it.
"Don't turn your back on me," he growled, but for once it was quiet enough for the other cat to hear. Stupid she-cat. She had no business talking to him like that - or rather, not talking to him like that. As soon as he was just a mouse-length ahead of her, he slowed his step and effortlessly matched her stride. He was the leader of the patrol, and of the Clan, and if anyone was first, it would be him. Of course the stupid she-cat wouldn't think of that. If any part of his heart had warmed in his speaking with her, it had completely iced over again. As they walked, he kept his head pointed a bit to the left, so he didn't have to look at her but could still see her out of the corner of one cruel yellow eye. He wouldn't put it past her to run off. Or even worse - frolick. If Jadedtail had even the slightest skip in her step, she would be banished from the Clan and spare them the embarassment. And if she began to daydream - Flaming Eternal, help her. He would send her straight off to the spineless TimberClan cats and let her rot there for a while. She'd be pushing up daisies in no time... He shuddered. Maybe literally.

ooc: Yikes. My voice is soooo inconsistant.