[☥𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒☥] ♛Warriors RP♚ Aᴄᴄᴇᴘᴛɪɴɢ!

[~Wildfire]

R A V E N W I N G
{ female - 21 moons - fighter - location: the courtyard - tags: stormhaze }

The hum of conversation and shuffle of paws filling the expanse of the courtyard, as cats of Sunclan slowly made their way to dinner, made almost everyone blend into the crowd of pelts and tails. But not a particular silver molly, for she knew exactly how to make an entrance.
Striding through the open space, head high and a playful smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth, Ravenwing made her way to the tables set out for the high-bloods. Light danced on the surface of the blood-red ruby she wore around her neck, a clear statement to anyone who would doubt her heritage. Not that anyone could ever confuse her for anything less than high-blood. Her actions and behavior spoke more clearly than any gem.
As she passed, Ravenwing brushed her tail under the chin of one of the toms, shooting him a flirtatious grin. But her steps didn't falter and she continued on, leaving the male behind and not paying any attention to the several disapproving glances that followed her movements.
Halfway to the tables, her gaze snagged on a certain brute, standing near the entrance to the Temple. Stormhaze was an intriguing tom to say the least and something about his cold demeanor picked at her, she just couldn't quite pinpoint exactly what it was. Precisely that detached attitude made her want to catch his attention, if only out of curiosity of what might be hiding underneath the shell.
When their gazes met for a split second, she gave him a wink, accompanied by a mischievous smile, simply to irk the stoic male, before the silver molly sauntered over to her spot at the dining table.

[LucidDreary]

[ ☥ 𝐄𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐎𝐧𝐞 ☥ ]
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𝓟𝓲𝓵𝓸𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓓𝓮𝓼𝓮𝓻𝓽 𝓞𝓬𝓮𝓪𝓷𝓼

End of Chapter One.
Anything said or mentioned in previous conversations from this point on must be posted/discussed in past tense.
Any post regarding loose ends from the previous chapter will be asked to be removed. Please read this post for further questions.

Chapter Two will be free to be posted on once I have given the green light to go and have the second chapter officially announced on here and the discussion thread. Until then, please do not post any further.

[LucidDreary]

[ ☥ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐰𝐨 ☥ ]
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𝓢𝓮𝓴𝓱𝓶𝓮𝓽'𝓼 𝓜𝓪𝓼𝓴

xxxxIn the midst of the summers’ crisp breeze, the shrubs and the soft coo of wind chimes whispered through the halls of Sunclan’s reside. The sound of drums echoed through the soft kiss of night that had just began to tuck the sun beneath the horizons’ blanket.
xxxx The drumbeats came from near and far- beyond the gardens of the courtyard, past the temple, into the throne room which had been transformed into a lively, golden epicenter of firelight. Lights hung askew and brilliantly colored banners of Sunclan’s insignia dawned every other wall- accompanying as well as complimenting the outline of Sekhmet’s forebodingly taunting eyes.
xxxx The drums were deep, probing. A single beat, echoed by two responding calls. Summoning.
xxxx Flowers of blood red and some even gilded gold, adorned wreaths of thorns- an offering to the mighty goddess who provided so much to the cats of Sunclan. Whifts of fine dishes fit for any high blood wafted through the very halls as echoing murmurs of excitement and laughter cascaded throughout cheerful faces of every rank- many already gathered in all their finery outside the gilded doors of the throne room; eagerly awaiting with their escorts to be filed in three-by-twos to enter the Gala.
xxxx Lanterns and ribbons shown; shadows cast- dancing with flickering candles hosted the bounty of offerings all along the twin thrones that adorned the dais that overlooked the room in blinding glory. The sky was an eddy of molten amethyst, sapphire, ruby, all bleeding into a final pool of onyx. The longest day of summer fading into oblivion with the music that had just began to integrate itself between the hallucinating pounding of the drums- sending excited awes through the crowd as masked faces exchanged bright grins of elated exhilaration.
xxxx Never before on any occasion had the throne room been so crowded with anticipation in many moons. The two masked individuals gazed upon their people who flooded into the room like the waters of the Nile, a mask of cool indifference set upon the tom, or so one might have thought to have glimpsed perhaps the softest ghost of a smile upon his features as he glanced for one, who could not be mistaken to be any other than his mate, glowing with pride. Between them was a small, silver-crafted box. And on an ivory pedestal; sat upon the finest silk and polished as though it had never seen dust; sat the glint of the statuette of Sekhmet.

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≋xℚ 𝕦 𝕚 𝕖 𝕥 ℝ 𝕒 𝕚 𝕟
────────────────
─ Feeling; Anxious; Hesitant; Dwelling; Location; The Temple; Tags; Fadedlotus; ─

xxxx The young she-cat willed herself into a semi-steady pace as she carefully groomed herself in a therapeutically calming rate. She waited until her pelt was pristinely glowing. Until she made herself drink from the “Pool of Reflections” and gather herself once more before she went to their shared den and began to adorn herself in heirlooms she never thought she would consider herself to need. “Need” didn’t even cover it.
xxxx As she finished, her own reflection startled her as a stranger stared back. She wasn’t used to having her upper face covered instead of her usually concealed maw- the diamonds were not a common sight, indeed. The dowry her mother had kept well hidden from most cats would surprise most. A gift her father had bestowed upon his new mate after he had pleaded to the high priest of their love.
xxxx She tried not to grimace. It was odd. Seeing the glimpse of her mother in herself. So she made a shrewd face at the she-cat she did not recognize- attempting to ignore the dire sight of white that she wore. It was an odd contrast...an entirely different appeal compared to the black she’d become so accustomed to… it was almost too… pure.
xxxx So she ignored it.
xxxx Ignored the way her mother’s diadem glinted with the slightest movement of her head.
xxxx Ignored her jeweled cuffs.
xxxx And turned away from the amulet that generously dangled from her neck.
xxxx Padding to endure the perfume that would, to her eternal relief, mask her scent.
xxxx It didn’t take her long to emerge from the temple’s maw, and the eyes who met her own made her heart quicken inexplicably. Fadedlotus, her escort, rose to his paws.
Her ears heated slightly as his eyes lingered on her as she descended the steps toward him- nervously flicking her tail in greeting.

കx𝐒 𝐭 𝐨 𝐫 𝐦 𝐡 𝐚 𝐳 𝐞
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─ Feeling; Unease; Skeptical; Location; Capt.'s Den; outside Scout's Den; Tags; Whitelily; Quietrain; Sagepaw; ─

xxxx As the young tom adorned his traditional golden gauntlets, his absent mind lead him to recheck his pelt a third time- re-smooth it in places that didn’t need smoothing, and quietly ponder whether to just wear his armor instead. Screwing over the formal apparel anyway. He couldn’t shake this feeling of unease from what had occurred earlier.
xxxx The priestess of Osiris- Quietrain - had been an absolute trembling mess. Her scent had not just been drenched in fear- but in utter...terror. Whitelily had barely murmured an incoherent answer and what he had assumed to be an apology- yet her voice had been shaky too- as if she had just heard, quite literally, a ghost. Stormhaze had no doubt that something was off about whatever gold object Quietrain had literally snarled at him to stay away from.
xxxx He knew she was a cat of reason. Trusted that gut feeling with everything he had, yet the lingering feeling of...foreboding bore into his pelt the more he realized just how put off the she-cats had been. The two had hastily excused themselves from his sight- offering no explanation as one grabbed the half-wrapped object and retreated to the Temple. The tom had tried to catch their eye every chance he had the next day, but with the dawn of the solstice of the Gala, he hadn’t had the chance to confront one of the two since he’d been stuck with organizing the security of the event itself.
xxxx He shook his head and traded his normally favored amulet for another his uncle had gifted him before his early retirement to the elder’s ranks due to an injury. He’d died not much later, but had been one of the only father figures Stormhaze had ever looked up to.
xxxx The silver chain felt unnaturally cool on him as he met the gaze that stared back at him from a small mirror. The mask he now dawned glinted in the pale candle light. He was a warrior. A brute. Legitimately bread from mighty bloodlines that raced through much of Sunclan’s history. He was not built for...formal events. The crowd of cats was one thing- it was the hidden intentions of each that made him nervous. On top of that, the fact that he couldn’t identify any of them send a prickle of unease through him as he exited his den at a reasonable pace to meet who he’d be escorting tonight: Sagepaw.
xxxx He’d glimpsed the young she-cat amongst the many patrols he’d organized. She’d shown much promise. There was no doubt in his mind that perhaps when she was older, she would have a good chance at rising up to the rank of a guard if the young fae put her mind to it. He paused a few good paces away from the scout’s den, awaiting for the apprentice to emerge.

⪩x𝑭 𝒆 𝒏 𝒓 𝒚 𝒔
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─ Feeling; Irritated; Depressed; Annoyed; Location; Chattel Cat's Cell Tags; Silver; ─

xxxx The tom wasn’t sure if the pounding was coming from his head or from the reoccurring agony of hearing the laughter of the pesky Sunclan cats making so much ruckus from the echoing catacombs of the mines.
xxxx What were they so damned happy about? He was trying to sleep for god's sake. If he couldn’t get a moment of peace for a small time, the brute was sure he’d lose every last hair in his pelt out of pure irritation. But the tom was careful to mask this..feral attitude as he curled up in his nest for the seventh time in attempt to get more comfortable among the twigs and dried up rags of moss and reeds those imbeciles had the guts to call “bedding”.
xxxx After laying there dormantly for another few moments, realizing sleep likely had abandoned him as soon as those horrid drums began to shake his very bones with a cult-like banter that shook him awake every few moments, he let out a frustrated huff.
xxxx “Mouse dung....What are they so happy about?”
xxxx He eyed the silver tom across from him, beginning to idly groom his pelt as he pricked his ears- the guards laughing down the corridor sent a flush of indignance. They’d forgotten their dinner. Spontaneously.
xxxx Again.
xxxx It was a miracle Fenrys hadn’t clawed all of their ears off. If he wasn’t attempting to keep a lower profile, keep himself and his temper in check, he’d probably have gone mad by now. And not just with rage…
xxxx Grief lingered there too. And it was getting harder to bury. The lump in his chest felt like a hollow wound that still had claws in his flesh. Perhaps a part of him was waiting for them to be yanked out. Until he bled all over the floor of this cell.
xxxx Never to see the stars again, or wind through his fur.

[Fortune's Fool]

𝔾𝕝𝕖𝕒𝕞𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕙𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕥
-- She-cat :: 42 Moons :: Guard :: ~Smokestep
Gleamingheart had always felt... awkward when it came to dressing up in any way. She was not a formal creature at heart and no matter what she did she felt out of place among the glamour of it all. Still she did it, a mask of black flames spreading from her eyes to cover much of her face. Resting over the bridge of her nose was a bit of silver inlaid in the mask in the shape of a vertical eye -- a blue iris painted on it. On each leg she eventually decided to add cuffs of the same dark metal with silver inlaid within it to highlight the flames they resembled. Still she felt... under dressed in a way, but much more would leave her far too uncomfortable -- and possibly late to meet up with her escort. Something that would have bothered her too much.
Smokestep deserved better than her being late, and soon enough she found herself sitting a bit away from the others gathering to find their escorts to await him.


𝔽𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕕𝕝𝕠𝕥𝕦𝕤
-- Tom :: 26 Moons :: Scout :: ~Quietrain
There had been hesitance in every step of his preparations for the night. His mask -- a rather plain thing on the front made of glinting copper that faded to rather ornate grouping of flowers that reached past his ears -- stood out starkly against his darker fur and complimented the armband he wore of layered copper leaves. Briefly he considered leaving his bangle behind, but the idea was rejected as quickly as it came and it rested on the leg opposite the armband. The final addition wasn't really jewelry at all but a white lotus, its stem carefully wrapped around his tail for the flower to firmly rest halfway down it.
With preparations finished he reached the reason for his... hesitance. Leaving the den to sit somewhat awkwardly outside the temple with his eyes, shaded behind his mask, staying focused on the ground beneath his paws. Until he heard pawsteps, an ear twitching as he raised his head and stood as she moved toward him. He couldn't quite stop himself from staring as she approached. He managed to glance away once she'd reached him though, dipping his head in greeting. Focus Fadedlotus. An escort, nothing more. He inclined his head slightly to ask if she wanted to start heading to the gala -- thankful that there was little pressure to actually speak with her. Finding himself tongue tied currently would have been far more embarrassing than anything else.


𝔽𝕠𝕘𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕡
-- She-cat :: 25 Moons :: Fighter :: ~Coldfang, Lionclaw
Sitting in the courtyard, the silvery she-cat's tail curled neatly around paws that carried thick but elegantly twisted bangles -- resembling clouds or the fog from which her name came from that paired with a necklace of much the same design. And matching her mask of silver that twisted and curled in and around itself in twirls and swirls of fog and mist around her eyes and little more. Not much of her face was covered by it really, the bare minimum to qualify as a mask at all. Waiting for her escort was leaving her bored as she watched cats gather and walk away to enter the ball properly. Her boredom admittedly stemmed simply from her desire to get the night started as soon as possible and not actual annoyance at having to wait a few moments. An event was such a fun break from the usual clan life, she was eager to jump right in.


𝔽𝕠𝕩𝕗𝕚𝕣𝕖
-- Tom :: 31 Moons :: Scribe :: ~Whitelily
The mask he had chosen was likely, in some opinions, a bit intimidating. A silver thing more a helm than a mask in the appearance of a lion's head -- a mane reaching between his ears and partially down his neck. The color stood out nicely against his fiery fur but there was little else to his so-called ensemble. His woven kestrel feather band was still in place on his tail, but a new addition lay in the silver earrings he now wore. Only small studs, but an addition nonetheless. All that was left was to... play his part as an escort before he arrived at the ball properly. A grander task than it may have seemed as he found himself waiting outside the temple for a priestess. Were it not for the general idea of anonymity the ball was supposed to enforce he would have had far, far more trouble doing so. Of course, he wasn't the only one in that position, each of the priestesses needed a escort to enter, but he still found it -- the waiting and escorting both -- anxiety inducing despite the apparent anonymity.

[-Blackthorn-]

𝕊𝕥𝕒𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕡𝕒𝕨
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Tom
Fighter's Apprentice
15 moons

xxxxxxxxHis mask was good.

xxxxxxxxHe looked fine.

xxxxxxxxThat was about the fifth time he had told himself that.

xxxxxxxxStarlingpaw sighed as he rotated and cocked his head in the mirror. He looked formal, almost ridiculously so, in his opinion. The festival made him feel humbled, and yet excited if such a combination did exist. How his mother had known he would pick this mask, he didn't know.

xxxxxxxxAround his head, like a lion mane, was a cluster of midnight blue feathers, with the ends of a peach color speckled with white like starlight. Or the feathers of his namesake bird, the starling. Toward the center of the feathery mane, the feathers grew progressively larger and were now glazed with light orange. It reminded him of sunset, or sunrise. Of hope, that persevered even when none could be seen.

xxxxxxxx"But that was what hope was right?" Starlingpaw asked himself quietly, almost bitterly as he put on his silver gauntlets. He had been asking himself the same question after he lost his father in a skirmish outside of Sunclan. A shining beacon in despair?" Even though he knew it was fine, the apprentice couldn't help looking up at himself in the mirror, gently adjusting his mask His silver gauntlets shone against the firelight, giving him the appearance of a high blooded warrior with a touch of youth. The one on his right, he had sent in a personal request to have it modeled almost exactly after one of his father's.

xxxxxxxxHis offering--a windchime, lay nearby. The chimes featured swirls and decorations that mimicked the bark and leaves of a pear tree.

xxxxxxxxOut of the corner of his eye, Starlingpaw glanced at another mask which had been discarded. It made him catch his breath, as always. The mask glowed autumn and gold, like a flowing ember. That had been his dad, Spruceshade's mask, that had been discarded after he died. Gently, reverently, Starlingpaw touched his face to the mask once, closing his eyes.

xxxxxxxxHowever, his gentle reverie was interrupted when he heard the drumbeats of the Gala. The black apprentice hoped that his escortee, Bronzewing, was not too impatient with him.

xxxxxxxxHe didn't see Bronzewing when he went outside, and he was about to wonder where she was when he saw her come out of her den. he heaved a gentle sigh of relief, and went to meet the bronze scout. Fortunately, she did not seem mad at him, which was good. Starlingpaw was not in the mood for hostility today. Especially not today, what with everything that had happened with the priestesses. When she bowed to him, as a gesture of rank, Starlingpaw bowed back and off they went to the Gala!

xxxxxxxxUpon reaching the hall, he made his way carefully for the tables set out for the high blooded, his stomach growling as he looked at the tantalizing dishes.

[dinolover519]

Layla| female | 11 moons | courtier |Location: sunclan|Tags: open|mentions: Zeri, Farrah,Badgerpaw|

Layla had awoken this morning to a sharp pain in her side as a guard kicked. His claws weren’t put, but it hurt nonetheless. Could she speak, she would have yelped, but instead she maintained her silence bitterly. Since then, her day had not gotten any better. She had been shove around from task to task in order to prepare for a stupid Gala which she would be forbidden from attending. Of course, she would be there, but as a servant and wearing the servant’s mask. But, setting up the gala had its advantages. She had found a single table by the edge of the party and hidden a second mask there, one she had stolen of course.

All she had to do was slip under the table and swap masks, then Layla could attend the party and see..Her fur felt hot and she smiled slightly...her friend Badgerpaw. At least, that’s what he probably thought of her. After all, he was a high blood, and she was a mere slave. The black molly shook her head softly and let out a silent sigh. Such things were too impossible.

She hadn’t confided in Farrah and Zeri about her plan yet, as neither would likely approve of such traitorous acts, and hoped they, especially Farrah, wouldn’t find up.

Silver|male|24 moons|chattel cat| location: slave cells|tags: Fenrys|mentions: Fallon (not by name)

The drum beat seemed to echo in Silver’s brain and sleep constantly evaded him. He tossed and turned, but with he sharp pains of hunger adding into the mix, it looked like it would just be another long night for the chattel cat. He flicked his ears at the sound of Fenrys’s voice and turned towards the other tom.

“Do you ever pay attention?” Silver mewed sarcastically at Fenrys. “Maybe if you looked past that pretty courtier for one moment you would know.” He did his best to ignore the feeling in his chest. What was it? Jealousy? Why would he be jealous of some courtier? He rolled his eyes at both Fenrys, as well as himself.

“It’s their stupid Gala where they celebrate how special Subclan is and how much the gods love them so much.” His fur bristled with hatred at the thought of the self-entitled clan. He suddenly stood up, his mind now sharp with excitement. “The guards, they’ll all be at the gala or horribly distracted. I could, I mean we could escape!” He paced around in his cell, thinking. “And with the noise of the drums, no one would notice if we broke a few things along the way.” He looked at his bedding. “Maybe if we had masks...” he muttered to himself, then glanced around. Like he had thought, the guard who was supposed to watching them was distracted, trying to fix her mask for the gala.

Druidia|female|18 moons|loner|location: by the clan border|tags: open|mentions: none

Druidia had just tucked into her nest when she heard distant drum beats. She snapped out of her den and looked out into the desert. Sunclan...what are they up to this time? The Savannah pricked up her large ears and listened to the exciting beats for a moment, before decisively passing her way to the shared border. She sat and watched the lights and wondered if she could try and join them, before realizing it was a stupid idea. Instead, the loner closed her eyes and enjoyed the music beating in her heart.

Scarabstone|male|24 moons|scribe|location: sunclan|tags: blossomsong |mentions:

Scrabstone was glad to know that he was to escort Blossomsong. Had his assigned escort been a high blood, the even would have been much more awkward. He glanced around for the molly, his nerves kicking in again. What if she decided that he wasn’t good enough to escort her and would rather face shame for not attending than shame for coming with him. He adjusted his mask, glad that no cat could see his anxiety and sadness. Even though he was only a commoner, he had done his best to dress up for the occasion, donning a golden ring around his tail tip in addition to his mask and scarab necklace, a family heirloom which he wore often.

Goldenwaves|female|46 moons| Priestess of Isis|location:sunclan|tags: Darkstar|mentions:

It was the little things in life that Goldenwaves truly appreciated. While he may not show it, she knew that her mate truly loved her, and while many wouldn’t be able to detect it in his stoic expression, she sensed it, and stretched out her paw and laid it on his. The Gala was already showing promise of being an excellent occasion, despite its many setbacks along the way.

Though she knew it was selfish, Goldenwaves did enjoy getting dolled up for the party, and adored the way her mask matched her mother’s neck piece and flowing silk that flew from it and wrapped around her body.

She smiled at Darkstar, for a moment, then remembered. “It seems like only yesterday I was out there as an apprentice at celebrations, now our kits are adults who will soon enough have their own mates and kits. I suddenly feel so old.” She joked, then looked over the crowd, wondering what her kits thought of the whole situation with a slight pain in her chest, but shrugged it off and put on a kind smile. She would not ruin this night with her worries, especially when it was the last thing her mate needed.

Weaselheart | male |60 moons|Scout/Loner|location: sunclan|tags: none|mentions:

Weaselheart had just finished adjustinghis black mask when he heard the call of the drumbeats. The older tom rushed outside and looked around for his assigned escort, Fallencloud. He still felt a bit haughty on the matter. He considered his luck one of his greatest strengths, and when the odds came in his favor, like being assigned as the escort for a royal, he was not surprised.

The shady cat had prepared well for tonight. He wore a black tophat and coat sleeves filled with secret pockets and false bottoms for his “magic” tricks. His legs and tail were covered with various bracelets of silver, gold, and bronze, the majority of which he had “borrowed” on his travels.

[~Wildfire]

B A D G E R P A W
{ male - 12 moons - guard's apprentice - location: courtyard - tags: open}

The young tom adjusted his mask for what must have been the thousandth time that evening. It was not that anything was wrong with it, the sapphire hue of it and the black flames that went past his ears went perfectly with his black-and-white pelt. What made him double-deck his appearance was the thought of meeting a certain beautiful courtier with mismatched eyes.
Usually Badgerpaw wasn't a fan of these big celebrations and he would have been content to stay on guard duty, but there was a trill to the thought of no one knowing who he was under the mask. With his features obscured, onyx cuffs around his paws and his height and build, he gave the impression of a high-blooded brute that he usually tried so hard to soften with a goofy grin.
He smiled mischievously and slipped out of the apprentices' den and into the night, the beat of the drums drawing him towards the entrance to the throne room.
Once there, he glanced around, searching for Sandwhisper, hoping he hadn't left her waiting.

S M O K E S T E P
{ male - 49 moons - pharaoh's squire - location: courtyard - tags: gleamingheart }

Smokestep took a deep breath, smoothing down the last errand tuft of fur on his shoulder and adjusting the ornate silver gauntlets on his paws. They had belonged to his father and the grey brute only wore them on formal occasions such as the gala that was about to start any minute, if the drumbeats that reverberated through his bones were any indication. Matched with the emerald pendant that hung from his neck, his whole attire made the brawny tom look like the pure-blooded warrior that he had been born to be. With his shoulders proudly set back, it was hard to believe there was a squire behind the jet black mask, accented by silver patterns around his eyes.
With a small smile of anticipation, Smokestep turned away from the small mirror in his den and headed for the courtyard, following the sound of lively, excited conversations.
Most of the clan had already gathered, waiting to be let inside. It was a sea of glittering jewels, mesmerising colors and elaborate masks whose sole purpose was to draw attention, but Smokestep's green gaze searched the crowd for only one in particular. It didn't take long for him to spot Gleamingheart among his other clanmates, he would have been able to recognize the molly anywhere. And the moment he did, everything else became insubstantial.
She was stunning, and he couldn't help the smile that spread across his features as he stopped in front of her. The silver tom bowed gallantly and then murmured, his eyes glinting in the firelight, "You are breathtaking."

F A L L O N
{ female - 22 moons - courtier - location: the throneroom - tags: open }

Fallon checked the refreshment table once again, just to make sure everything was as it should be. Every little detail counted when it came to such a big event as the Gala and if she wanted her plan to work, she needed everything to go off without a hitch. So much so that no one would notice if the white molly slipped out for a moment.
Subconsciously Fallon pawed at the tablecloth covering one of the tables and draping all the way to the ground, only to reassure herself that her things were still safely hidden under it. For now, she was wearing the servant's mask identical to all the others', and she couldn't wait to switch it out for the glittering white one currently hidden from sight.
Normally, she wouldn't have even considered something like this. She was trying to stay under the radar so that she could rise up to her former rank eventually, but ever since her visit to the mines, she hadn't been able to get the battered tom out of her head. The spark that Fallon had seen in his eyes haunted her, mostly because it had been like a mirror of her own soul. She had convinced herself that if she only got a couple of moments to talk to him, she could put a stop to her restless thoughts. And thus, the escape plan, for once the festivities were in full swing.

R A V E N W I N G
{ female - 21 moons - fighter - location: the courtyard - tags: open }
Ravenwing lifted her chin, the spark in her eyes the only indication of just how irritated she was to be stuck on guard duty. Instead of making her grand entrance to the long-awaited Gala, she got to check everyone's identity as they entered the throne room. Aside from it being a tedious job, it also ruined the mystery for her. After all, what good was a masked ball if you knew exactly who was hiding behind each mask.
But Ravenwing was too proud to act like a spoiled kit and so instead, she did her best to turn the situation to her advantage. Wearing a black cloak wasn't exactly the most comfortable, but the long, dark material did its job perfectly in covering her costume for the gala, and her face was hidden under a simple black mask, which she would later switch out for the crimson-and-gold masterpiece that was hidden in the folds of her cloak.
The bengal she-cat rolled back her shoulders and offered a coy smile to the tom standing nearest to her, waiting in line to be let in.

[Dragonheart48]

Sandwhisper • MtF trans • Royal advisor • 25 Moons • Nomasexual • Crush: open • Tags- Badgerpaw

xxxxxThe smoky tan she-cat had sat, tail curled around her back legs, as she adjusted the delicate gold-ruby studded mask on her face. The mask had been an anonymous gift from someone so she could dress in garb befitting her new rank as she wasn't a stranger to wearing bronze apparel to these kinds of events. She frowned for a moment not really recognizing herself as she strapped on a pair of decorative gauntlets, that matched the mask she'd been given, and applied the scent masking perfume before exiting her den. The sound of the drums reverberated through her bones and she picked up her pace a little to get to the entrance of the throne room. She looked around curiously scanning the amassing crowd of cats for her escort Badgerpaw. A small smile flickered across her face, whoever had decided the escorts had chosen to respect her chosen gender, which was a rare occurrence by all accounts but a very welcome one. She spotted the familiar black and white pattern of Badgerpaw's coat a moment later and sauntered up to him with a friendly greeting still smiling, "Hey Badgerpaw, I'm sorry if I kept you waiting".

[-Blackthorn-]

𝕊𝕥𝕒𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕡𝕒𝕨
Tom
Fighter's Apprentice
15 moons
Bronzewing
x

His mask was good.
He looked fine.
That was about the fifth time he had told himself that.

Starlingpaw sighed as he rotated and cocked his head in the mirror. He looked formal, almost ridiculously so, in his opinion. The festival made him feel humbled, and yet excited if such a combination did exist. How his mother had known he would pick this mask, he didn't know.

Around his head, like a lion mane, was a cluster of midnight blue feathers, with the ends of a peach color speckled with white like starlight. Or the feathers of his namesake bird, the starling. Toward the center of the feathery mane, the feathers grew progressively larger and were now glazed with light orange. It reminded him of sunset, or sunrise. Of hope, that persevered even when none could be seen. "But that was what hope was right?" Starlingpaw asked himself quietly, almost bitterly as he put on his silver gauntlets. He had been asking himself the same question after he lost his father in a skirmish outside of Sunclan. A shining beacon in despair?" Even though he knew it was fine, the apprentice couldn't help looking up at himself in the mirror, gently adjusting his mask. His silver gauntlets shone against the firelight, giving him the appearance of a high blooded warrior with a touch of youth. The one on his right, he had sent in a personal request to have it modeled almost exactly after one of his father's.

His offering--a windchime, lay nearby. The chimes featured swirls and decorations that mimicked the bark and leaves of a pear tree.

Out of the corner of his eye, Starlingpaw glanced at another mask which had been discarded. It made him catch his breath, as always. The mask glowed autumn and gold, like a flowing ember. That had been his dad, Spruceshade's mask, that had been discarded after he died. Gently, reverently, Starlingpaw touched his face to the mask once, closing his eyes.

However, his gentle reverie was interrupted when he heard the drumbeats of the Gala. The black apprentice hoped that his escortee, Bronzewing, was not too impatient with him.

He didn't see Bronzewing when he went outside, and he was about to wonder where she was when he saw her come out of her den. he heaved a gentle sigh of relief, and went to meet the bronze scout. Fortunately, she did not seem mad at him, which was good. Starlingpaw was not in the mood for hostility today. Especially not today, what with everything that had happened with the priestesses. When she bowed to him, as a gesture of rank, Starlingpaw bowed back and off they went to the Gala!

Upon reaching the hall, he made his way carefully for the tables set out for the high blooded, his stomach growling as he looked at the tantalizing dishes.

x

𝔹𝕣𝕠𝕟𝕫𝕖𝕨𝕚𝕟𝕘
Molly
Scout
39 moons
Starlingpaw~
x

The drumbeats stirred up a spirit something fierce in the mau's very soul as she walked outside into the brisk night air. Normally, when she was feeling like this, she would go out for a run. But today was not for running the track, she knew as she took a deep breath of the cool night air. Today was a day of celebration, for another year going by in the god's favor.

Her outfit was a good combination of fire and steel.

She spotted Starlingpaw already waiting for her, and blushed a bit from embarrassment, bowing her head in respect. It was understandable that she shouldn't have to wait for him, but she doubted that he enjoyed the other way around. She bowed her head to him once, and they headed out for the Gala. The lights shone fiercely off the ruby and gold on Bronzewing's pheonix-themed mask. Looking at Starlingpaw briefly, she felt beyond embarrassed. Here she was a commoner, walking with a guard's apprentice as her escort. Certainly a once in a lifetime thing.

She looked up at the hall and felt her breath disappear from her body. Say what you wanted, the courtiers had certainly outdone themselves this time.

x
𝕆𝕞𝕖𝕟
Tom
Rogue
Tags: Open
x

Oh for Osiris's sake! The silver tabby had been looking forward to a peaceful night of nocturnal hunting, but it seemed the drums were getting the prey all spooked. Needless to say, his hunting had not been very productive. Omen shook his head as he buried his latest catch, a scorpion. He looked toward the glittering clan city, with a small sigh. He might as well listen to the music, seeing as most becoming too restless for him to hunt. or him to hunt. "I wonder what they are celebrating about? Or what the gods think of them." He asked to himself.
Before Omen had lost his siblings, he would have considered joining their ranks. Now, he didn't dare to ask. No sense in spreading more bad luck than he already had.

Omen looked up at the stars, glittering like the silent, stalwart friends they were. Are you watching this celebration too Pebble?" He asked himself silently. He searched the sky for his siblings as he always did every night.

What would it have been like, if his siblings were still alive. Would he have been part of Sunclan? Or would he still be a rogue?

[moondust405]

Reeddapple

Molly~29 moons~Priestess of Anubis~Tags; Kindleflame

Reeddapple couldn't help the feeling of joy bubbling to the surface as she ran her tongue through her pelt, resisting the urge to fidget and messing up her fur once more. The one time she didn't have to keep up appearances as a priestess and she was going to thoroughly enjoy it. The festivities, the interaction- it brought such strong feelings of nostalgia back, being treated like a normal cat. It almost made her wish to go back before Anubis chose her, but she knew if given the chance, she wouldn't trade such an honor for anything.
Reeddapple sat up and stretched out her limbs, gently picking up the scent-masking perfume and spreading it onto her fur. Setting it down, the she-cat pulled on several more silver bangles than she would normally wear on all four legs; they were inlaid with multiple gold geometric designs, shifting in the light. However, at the necklace pulled out from her personal belongings, she froze. Before the wedge was driven between them, her parents had given her an old family heirloom from her father's side, a braided silver necklace with golden details that wove through the silver. The priestess pressed her ears back before sighing in defeat, slipping the braid of metal over her neck and letting it rest against her chest. A reminder of happier times, she supposed. Hopefully she wouldn't run into either of them, or at least maybe they wouldn't recognize her.
The last, finishing piece: the mask. The bounce in Reeddapple's step returned as she looked upon it; putting it on felt odd, yet exhilarating- no silks covering her face, no constant avoidance of contact, none of it. Smoothing her fur down one last time, Reeddapple took a breath before sending up a prayer to Anubis, letting it out as she walked towards the Temple entrance. She spotted her escort, Kindleflame, relatively quickly, heading over and greeting him respectfully.

Beefang

Tom~23 moons~Fighter~Tags; Rosewater

Beefang struggled to smooth down a final curl of fur that seemed determined to stick up, no matter how many times he attempted to smooth it. He gave a resigned sigh, standing up and shaking out his fur a bit so at least no one would be able to tell the unruly fur had existed in the first place. He had a she-cat to escort, a priestess no less, and he wasn't accomplishing anything by worrying over a tuft. The tom retrieved the scent masking perfume every cat was required to wear at the Gala, thoroughly applying it before sliding on his silver arm cuffs and a pair of silver ear cuffs he kept for special occasions. Beefang gently retrieved his mask and slipped it on, kit-like energy returning as he exited the fighter's den. The vibe of the Gala was just so exciting to him, and he quickly made his way over to the Temple. Beefang was escorting Rosewater, priestess of Horus, and he didn't exactly want to be late, so he waited outside of the Temple somewhat patiently for the she-cat. He almost wondered what the odds were, to be picked to escort one of the priestesses, of all cats. If anything, he expected guard duty. He pulled himself away from his increasingly wandering thoughts, attempting to keep himself in the present so that he didn't miss Rosewater.

Finch

Molly~23 moons~Loner~Tags; open

Finch couldn't help but be drawn to the lights and music coming from Sunclan. There would be little to no patrols tonight- that, she could be sure of- so she sat at the border and took in the sights of the camp in the distance. It's about time for the Gala of Sekhmet, isn't it? She hummed to herself, thinking back to the events of earlier that day. That had to be a rogue, since she'd never seen the other cat before. Loners tended to cross paths more than once with their constant wandering, and it hadn't yet appealed to Finch to take up permanent territory and call it her own. She continued to watch the festivities in the distance, lost in thought and memory of the day and those past.