Bad Moon Rising [semi-open]

The strange, unfamiliar confines of the Abandoned Barn were bathed in an equally queer carmine shadow. Silence hung heavily within the stagnant shelter, weighing heavily upon the dust-speckled, musty air. The eclipsed sun, while proving to be a beneficial partisan to the ongoing war, made it rather difficult to glean what time of day it actually was; it had to be morning by now, right? The meeting had transpired a lifetime ago, or at least that's what it felt like. The harsh, unnatural flooring of the Barn groaned quite grotesquely under Lichenmask's weight, the rotting wood trembling in a less than appealing manner with every step taken into the odd Twoleg structure. Under any other circumstances, he would've taken the time to wonder about just why those strange creatures had left such a place to rot, but after such an extended period of time without sleep, using such a profuse amount of power, and now holding full responsibilities over countless exiles, he was much too exhausted to bother. Ignoring the way that the partially-dried blood knotted up his poorly maintained pelt, the young tom only paused for a brief moment to see if the other's were following close behind. They would be able to rest here, to find solace while Lichenmask awaited a sign to guide his paws upon the next trail.

Every pawstep was heavy, echoing in her ears as the troop of cats followed their leader. If any of them had had a single doubt, surely it was dead and buried by now. For her, the past events had only been a fulfillment of what she already knew- Lichenmask was chosen by StarClan. However, the question remained: what now? They'd offered a last chance to the Clans and been refused. Then, the tom had obscured both sun and moon with an eerie red glow and split the coward Littlestar in half from head to tail. And now, they were all cast out of their Clans, walking silently in a group towards... well, towards wherever he led them. She had followed him this far, she wasn't going to give up now. He was their only hope. But it wasn't only logic that bound her to him- it was something else. Brushgaze prided herself on only feeling the emotions she wanted to feel, but ever since she'd seen him at her first Gathering, some strange, uncomfortable warmth burned in her when she was near him. She didn't know what it was, or why, but she couldn't ignore it. So she stayed with Lichenmask.

Finally, they arrived at their destination- a dilapidated old Twoleg structure that she'd heard mentioned before. The Barn. Inside was musty and smelled of hay, floor so obviously unstable that she felt like a misstep could send her crashing through it. However, their leader walked without caution, and so did she. As the rest of her companions milled about around the Barn, however, she stopped for a second, pausing curiously as she noticed Lichenmask's face. It was strangely blank, obviously controlled, yet also a hint of fatigue around his piercing eyes. No, more than a hint. The tom practically dripped exhaustion from every hair on his body. It was plain that he needed rest, and that he hadn't been getting it. A definite reminder that even the savior of the Clans was just a cat- when he wasn't being directed by StarClan, that was. He was weary, drawn out, spread too thin. That was a feeling she identified with, but there was no way for her to know how hard it was for him to be the Clans' last hope, their only salvation. All she could do was try to help. A strange feeling of compassion softened her hard face lines, along with the strangeness that usually came when she was around him- a burning, somewhere in the region of her chest. She nudged his shoulder lightly, concern evident in her lamplike pale green eyes. "Lichenmask, you need to rest. Please, come sit down." She gestured with her fluffy tail to a soft-looking pile of hay in a quiet corner. "You're burnt out. Come take a break- I'll catch you a mouse, or something. Please." Her soft voice was pleading, but also held a small note of command. He'd work himself to death if she let him.

A long-legged tom padded close behind both Lichenmask and Bushgaze, eyeing the Shadowclan she-cat curiously. Why had Lichenmask chosen her, out of all of them? Not that it mattered. He thought to himself, turning to glance at the crowd of cats trailing behind them. He squinted, trying to see Windclan territory through the forest of cats. Home. The moorland, turned burnt gold with Leaf-fall. He missed it already. Brindlestar's words stung him still. The she-cat he had adored had turned her back on him, and for that, he would never forgive her. She had scorned him simply because of his beliefs. She was nothing more than a once-great leader of a clan defaced by those who were far too impure to inhabit it.
That must've been why Starclan finally turned their backs.

The tom's pelt rose around his scruff, turning his pale gaze toward the sky as the group approached the bark. Lichenmask hadn't been lying, then- not that he had given Thornleap any reason to distrust him. From the very start, the Windclan tom had known that Lichenmask was closely linked to Starclan. The way he spoke, the way he held himself. It was clear that he was a tom who wasn't of this world.
Thornleap shook himself, ducking into the barn with only a slight pause. He blinked, taking in the close walls and the damp, musty scent that clung to the still air. Oh, how he missed his home.

Stalking behind the former RiverClanner, ShadowClanner, and WindClanner rather moodily, Snowdrop flicked her tail side to side in pure agitation. The other Clan leaders had banished those who followed Lichenmask and his ideals, and even though Leopardstar didn't banish any ThunderClan cats outright, she chose to continue following her own leader -- the one true leader. She had absolutely nothing left in ThunderClan. Her parents were dead, her two apprentices were so mouse-brained, and her crush Beetlemask -- whom she should really ask to become her mate after all this time, really -- would most have most likely chosen to follow Lichenmask anyway.

She didn't see him when she left with StarClan's prophet to the abandoned barn that she was now crawling into. But she knew he was there, trudging along behind the group of outcasts. She wanted to go back and look for him, but she was just too tired. With a soft huff, she collapsed into a clump of hay, hissing and spitting at initial prickle of the sharp dried grass against her short-furred pelt. After meddling with the pile, she curled up and grumpily buried her nose under her tail, its tip still flicking.

The grin had not left Hillfire's face since the moment Lichenmask had totally dominated those foolish leaders. The tiny little leader of ShadowClan had been executed, and the rest had been put in their place. Even Jaystar looked like a scared little kit for a few moments there. Above all else, their savior had shown how much sheer power he possessed. The sun and moon were gone leaving the stars both oddly bright and vulnerable at the same time. This had to show that they were the ones who were right. All the leaders were nothing but fools, refusing to do the simple act of purify their clans. Now they had the power to do that, and could save the clans despite what anyone said. Still, he didn't like that he had to leave RiverClan for that. This was a smelly old twoleg thing that didn't have a trace of dignity about it. And worse, he would be sleeping near cats fro other clans. Even though they were exceptionally wise for their clans and had been chosen like he had, they still weren't RiverClanners. Technically neither was he anymore, but he would get his rank back soon enough. Lying down on a pile of hay, he grumbled at its prickliness. All he wanted was to be curled up with Flurryshine in a nest of soft moss and swan feathers. Of course, she was in the nursery expecting his kits, so he wouldnt be able to do that anyway, but he still wished for it. Hopefully she was back in the clan refusing to believe whatever their leader was saying about him and not afraid, because he would never let any harm come to her. Curling up, he tried to forget about that. Soon enough, they would win, and he could get better life.

What little doubt she had placed in Lichenmask's direction had finally dissipated. Any loyalties that she had had to ShadowClan were now cut off, and the foolish, impure cats whom she had called her Clanmates for moons were nothing to her now. Lichenmask had concealed the sun - that was more than enough proof for her. And Littlestar was dead now, the so-called great leader of ShadowClan had been dispatched within only a few short moments. Lichenmask's power was unmistakable.

Fallowpaw padded gently into the eerily shadowed twoleg structure, following not too far behind the cat she would now call her leader. She did her best not to flinch as the the unnatural twoleg flooring groaned under the weight of a score of tired cats. Doing her best to avoid the areas of the rotting wood that seemed the most unstable, she found her way to a corner and settled in a comfortable position. She tried not to look at Lichenmask - it was difficult to see a cat that she looked up to so much appear as exhausted as he did. She couldn't blame him, though... she had done little to stand up to her Clan, yet she felt as if she was lying down after a long day of hunting. The mottled she-cat let her head rest on her paws, happy to rest and wait until Lichenmask - or StarClan - decided what their next step would be.

Following Lichenmask to where ever they were headed, Rockjaw had to admit, he was tired of walking and ready to sit down, but his mind kept racing. Lichenmask was such a brave cat, standing up to those revolting leaders and even taking all of Littlestar's lives... the RiverClanner was the only cat in all the forest in which he stove to be like someday. 'Hopefully I'll get to prove myself to him soon...' he thought to himself as they approached the barn. So this was where they would rest. It was a curious place, built by Twolegs, but inhabited by others than their own. As long at those odd, naked creatures weren't around, it was a find place to gather their thoughts and regroup.

Following the group in, it took the large tom a moment or so to get used to the unnatural ground under his paws, but he pushed that worry away and sniffed the air. It was dry, but the fresh scent of mice was all over the place. Another thing in which he looked forward to, catching a good meal, which so far looked promising in this place. Sitting down a foxlength or so away from Lichenmask and Brushgaze, Rockjaw began to clean his paws as they waited for the others, who were slowly filtering in.

Pumapaw followed the Lichenmask and his allies. They were now her allies too, seeing as she no longer had a clan, or a home. She attempted to keep her face impassive, but deep down she was scared. Scared of what was next, scared of this darkness, scared of the power Lichenmask welded. If he could kill Littlestar without even flinching, and block out the light with a single paw, what other power did he have hiding. He could probably flick his tail, and she'd drop dead. She really didn't want to be here, but her fear kept her in place.

The russet she-cat followed still, paws weary from walking. She glanced at the where they were heading. Lichenmask couldn't expect them to live there, but it was the only place they'd be allowed, and she didn't want to die. She raised her head searching for familiar faces, seeing Brushgaze beside Lichenmask. Why did she follow him so blindly? Why was she always beside him? He was dangerous, unstable. Pumapaw wasn't going to say that, it was a bit hypocritical, as she was following him.

Ragged gaps blossomed in the uneven roof of the Abandoned Barn, allowing puddles of red light to slither across the derbies-strewn floor. Various different cats were sprawled about in the stifling shadows of the abandoned structure, all physically resembling how he felt at this moment in time. The roughened surface of the floor felt abhorrent against the sore, blood-speckled pads of Lichenmask's paws, but it would do for now. They were outside of any Clan's territory, and any Kittypet, Rogue, or Loner that was unfortunate enough to stumble upon them would likely be ward off by their numbers. It would have to do, because it was all they had. Quietly watching as the final few stragglers eventually made their way into the enclosed territory of the Barn, he only gazed at Brushgaze for a brief moment. Wryly twitching a tufted ear in response, the young tom only let out a slight grunt. They were fixing to find themselves amidst a full blown war, there was no time for something as leisurely as rest. "For the time being, we'll stay here. The Clans won't be attempt any sort of counter strike anytime soon, they'll be too focused on the sun for now. There should be plenty of prey in the Barn, and it'll suffice as far as our needs for shelter." Lichenmask began, eloquent voice rising above the slight clamor of the many different cats who milled about now. The lengthy trek to the Abandoned Barn had given him a bit of time to think, to come up with a rough plan of action while he awaited any sort of word from Sparrowleaf. It'd likely be costly and incredibly risky in terms of execution, but there was no immediate harm in merely testing the waters while they were forced to simply sit idle. Departing from Brushgaze's side and pacing back into the watery crimson light that poured in from the oddly shaped entrance of the Abandoned Barn, the young tom slipped back into the center of cats that milled about.

"There's something I must do in the mean time, but it'll take me quite a bit of time to finish. I should be back within a sunrise or two, hopefully bearing good news." Lichenmask's eloquent voice rose above the slight clamor once more, holding that same familiar note of self-assurance, "That means you'll be left on your own for a period," He paused for a moment or so to peer at the cats who gazed back at him, "I trust that you can handle doing such."

Stonepaw lingered further back, trying to process what had happened. There was no sun nor moon, no stars, and none of them had clans to return to. The waves of scents washed over his sensitive nose and he struggled to keep his lip from curling. No, he'd be stuck living with these cats while Lichenmask's plan played out. He couldn't afford making enemies now. He closed his eyes for a moment as he entered the barn, seeing again the gushes of blood coming from Littlestar as her lives leaked out of her. While he knew she'd deserved it, a ghost of the wound ran down his stomach and he winced at pain that wasn't his. The creaking of the floorboards made him stop in his tracks. This place was going to fall on them at any moment, wasn't it? He backed out into the meager red light. The grey tom, who now looked the color of rusted metal, opened his mouth to make a statement to excuse himself, but he stopped. Few of the cats here were from ShadowClan, even fewer from his own family, and now none who seemed to bother with him much at all. The burr-covered tom was starting to miss his family now that he was away from them. 'This will be for their own good. We'll be back soon enough.' He shook his head and moved towards the bits of unclaimed territory around the barn. He needed to clear his head and help some, even if his paws ached.

He set out to hunt alone for the very first time.

Beetlemask looked at the powerful tom in silence and nodded quietly. Even if they came from different clans, these cats were more worth to call clanmates than those in Thunderclan with rotten blood. Those cats were never his friend. They were all just rogues and kittypets disguised as warriors, code-breakers that deserved to be eliminated from this life. He was willing to follow Lichenmask to the end of the world with the objective of accomplishing what Starclan asked him for: to purify the clans from its corrupted roots.

Once the RiverClanner was gone, he soon searched in the barn for the white fur of his best friend and beloved one, Snowdrop. He soon found her and silently, he laid down next to her. It had been a long night filled with mixed feelings and emotions. But the prideful tom didn't regret a thing. The actual Thunderclan was not the one he swore to protect. It was just a bunch of traitors, murderers and rogues. His birth-clan was infected and in order to save it, he had to step away from it... even if it meant leaving his family behind.

He curled his tail around the she-cat's body softly and then rested his head in the hay too. "You should rest, for now, Snowdrop. It has been a long night and great things are about to come... Don't worry, I'll keep a watch and guard you while you sleep if you want." He purred softly.

Thornleap flicked his long tail, nodding as Lichenmask spoke. Now was his chance! With Lichenmask gone, someone had to be around to keep things running smoothly. And then, once Brindlestar saw his side of things, maybe she'd be impressed by his leadership. There was no time to waste. Jumping into action, the tabby warrior stood up and turned to address several of the cats who were still present. "Alright," He mewed briskly, in a voice just loud enough for them to hear. "This is our territory, for the time being. That being said, we'll have to patrol it and hunt in it just like any other. You," He gestured toward a cat at the front of the group, making up a job on the spot. He had organized patrols hundreds of times when playing make-believe with his friends, so why would now be any different? Taking a deep breath, the tom forced a bit of authority into his voice. "Lead a hunting patrol around the back of the barn. There should be plenty of prey there."
The young tom's ears twitched nervously when the cat didn't move. "Err, I-I mean," He started, scrabbling to regain his quickly slipping composure. "Why don't I... uh, here, I'll lead the patrol this time. Follow me,"
How embarrassing

OOC: give my boi a friennd

Brushgaze's shoulders hunched forwards slightly as Lichenmask disregarded her. He wouldn't listen... he would just work himself to exhaustion. Why did a single dismissive glance from him hurt so much? She was so drawn to him, it almost hurt when he stepped away. But he had to go. Well, there was only so much she could do. Instead, she offered a brave half-smile and listened seriously to every word the tom spoke. It was a slight shock that he didn't know what to do yet, but StarClan would surely guide his every pawstep, as they had been so far... and look where that had gotten them. He, their savior, had snuffed out both sun and moon with a single paw. He had stripped that filthy hypocrite Littlestar of all nine ill-deserved lives with one stroke. Surely, he would perform many more miracles before this day of judgement was done... and she would be as much of an asset to him as possible. Whether he would listen to her or not. She nodded as he placed his trust in them- in her. "We won't let you down, Lichenmask," she promised calmly, authority making her raise her head higher. "Don't worry. You can trust me- you can trust us."

The warrior stepped forward, ready to take control of the group- until one of the younger WindClan cats did it first, ordering a cat to start going out on patrol. She stopped, taken aback slightly, then after a tense moment nodded. He was just trying to help, after all. "Thornleap has the right idea. Though we may have been cast out of our respective Clans- and good riddance to them- that's no reason to stop following the code. We should at least keep some semblance of Clan life here in this.. barn." Her pale green eyes flicked around the barn, taking in cats and matching names to faces. "Hillfire, Pumapaw, how about you join them and go hunt. There should be plenty of territory around here. Former WindClan cats, it may be a good idea to teach most of us how to catch rabbits, since we're nearest to your territory. There are also plenty of mice in here. The rest of us should make some temporary nests and await Lichenmask's return." With a sweep of her long tail, the former ShadowClan she-cat turned away and began to move mounds of the soft hay into makeshift nests. Working would keep her mind off of the things that had just transpired.

"Thornleap, right? I'm Hillfire, we fought at the Gorge once. But no hard feelings, we're like clanmates now. I can catch a bit of land prey, but there is no way I'm eating hare or rabbit. I'll hunt with you, but probably actually good stuff like birds and mice. It really is a shame there's hardly any water around, or I'd be catching frogs left and right," Hillfire explained. He wasn't usually one to ramble on like that, but he wanted to thoroughly explain his limitations without making himself look weak. Thornleap may be an ally, but there was still not a chance he would take hunting advice from a former WindClanner. It was quite amusing when Brushgaze spoke, her authority much more clear than the cat who had spoken before her. Though taking order from a former ShadowClanner was annoying, he had planned to join anyway. It would take a while for him to get into the hait of remembering that these were the best cats from every clan, not weak and puny like their former clanmates.

Darkpaw's stone-cold gaze swept across his companions as he lazily lay near the back of the barn. He was mentally tired but physically awake. His life was flipped upside-down in a matter of moments. To be honest, he liked it. Being with cats who shared his strong beliefs really boosted his morale.