Rigged Jury [open]

Tavora's eyes were obscured by the ragged, triangular face of a medium-sized raccoon, whose snout bore the scars of its final battle, having lost to the newest Nightstriker. She was quite fond of her accessory, though she could do without the odd sticky feeling of dark, swampy mud clinging to her wiry pelt, matting it up in the back where it was glued to the predator skin. She had worked hard to procure such a nice pelt. Wading through Carrionplace and all its putrid garbage and crowfood was not a pleasant task, but it was worth it to fawn over her perfectly manicured outfit. A few moons ago, she would have turned her nose up at the thought of wearing a raccoon skin, but now, it was a symbol of her freedom more than anything else. It reminded every member of ShadowClan that she had the guts to do what they were too blinded by stubbornness to do. She had taken up the call of the Asylum and had been graciously rewarded for it. Perhaps the most importantly, it was harboring a very terrifying secret. Tavora seldom took it off.

Had any cat seen her eyes unmasked as she burned through camp, they may have felt a sharp twang of dread for what was to come. The grey she-cat stopped short in front of the Jaggedrock, as if to question her course of action for just a minute... at the end of it, she did not bunch up her haunches to ascend Flintstar's special meeting place. She didn't need it. She could hold a meeting right down on the ground. Tavora meowed, loud and caustic in the wind-chilled air, drawing the attention of everyone nearby.

"Asylum and ShadowClan, could you please come here?" she announced, and though venom was seething from every part of her wide stance and lashing tail, her words were modulated and quite a bit calm. "We're going to have a little meeting, how's that? Come on, don't be shy."

Tavora tilted her head down to adjust the position of her mask and hunt for the tortoiseshell cat she needed to see. At the mere glimpse of that dark coat, she felt her blood begin to simmer again. "Nobody's in trouble yet."

Murkystrike had been preparing to go out for another hunt when a familiar, distinct voice summoned the clan. Her words were relaxed, but the venom in her voiced dripped like water off of a melting icicle. Eyes narrowed, the she-cat turned away from the camp entrance and joined the gathering crowd of cats, ears perked in curiosity.

Rookpaw was in the medicine den, as he usually was. He was grooming himself before Tanglerose shouted for some sort of meeting involving ShadowClan and Asylum. Frankly, Rookpaw wasn't a fan of her, and ShadowClan agreed with him on that matter. "If you dare hurt anyone here, you'll have another thing coming for you," he snarled. He wouldn't hesitate to use his fighting skills he learned from Iniko on Tavora. The medicine cat apprentice venomously glared at the new Asylum Nightstriker, his teeth baring.

The she-cat's last words troubled Rookpaw, though nobody would be able to see it. What did she mean by 'Nobody's in trouble... yet?' Is she going to do something to one of my clanmates? He had a feeling who, if any, she might take down, and if she did hurt this cat, or any of his clanmates, she would pay the price... in blood.

Ichtaca stuck closer to the crowd than usual, hovering around Murkystrike. This she-cat had taught her the art of hunting. She had given Ichtaca a chance at life. Would she defend Murkystrike with her life?

...Well, she would like to say she would, but Ichtaca knew that was not true. She was a self-preserving cat at heart. She was selfish. Now that she has a new chance at life, she did not want to waste it. And deep down, she was driven by the primal instinct of a need to live. To survive.

Ichtaca couldn’t say she liked it. In fact, she hated it. But she couldn’t stop it. It was hard-wired into who she is as much as the fact that she was a runt is.

She eyed Tavora warily, as if she was the clan cat here and not everyone else. She never liked this cat as Tanglerose, or as Tavora. However, something seemed up in the way she looked around. Ichtaca felt a shiver dance down her spine.

"I must agree with Rookpaw. You are of Asylum now, but our agreement is that ShadowClan stays safe." A soft growl echoed from behind Tavora as Flintstar circled from behind the Jaggedrock - having just slipped out of his den at the ex-ShadowClan cat's call. He took a seat a few tail-lengths away from her but away from the crowd of gathering cats - eyes narrowed as he curled his tail around him. "You are free to speak as you wish - whatever this meeting of your entails - but there will be no bloodshed caused by a cats' claws on my watch." If Flintstar truly had a grasp of his emotions, perhaps he would say that the change in Tavora was almost painful - recalling interacting with her when she was just a kit. But instead, Flintstar had quickly come to separate the two the moment he heard of Tavora's new name being whispered about from the Asylum cats. The Tanglerose he had named was gone, so be it. She didn't feel that she belonged in ShadowClan and he was willing to accept that...But he was not going to let her harm her prior Clanmates for any reason. Iniko had been clear - ShadowClan was to remain safe as long as they followed Asylum's rules...And even then, Flintstar put the safety of his Clan before all.

If Tavora had any plans to harm one of ShadowClan's cats - he wasn't sure if she would manage to escape the camp with her life.

Mistyfalcon curled his lip as Tanglerose called the clan together. Who did she think she was? She wasn't Flintstar, and she wasn't Ebonysong. Mistyfalcon had half a mind to stalk off on principle. She wasn't his leader and had no right to call a clan meeting, as far as he was concerned.

Flintstar and Rookpaw gathering before her gave him pause, however. And there were other rogues around anyways, so if they really wanted a clan meeting, it seemed like they were getting a clan meeting. Mistyfalcon's tattered ears twitched back in disgust at the idea of it, but it wasn't like Shadowclan had much of a choice in the matter.

Silently, he stalked over to sit near Murkystrike, noting the small Asylum cat that was sticking close to her in disapproval before returning his gaze to Tanglerose.

Nobody was in trouble, yet? That sounded very much like a threat, to Mistyfalcon. Dark eyes turned glacial as he eyed the raccoon-pelt-wearing she-cat. If she thought she could threaten Shadowclan into submission, if she thought she could hurt his clanmates and get away with it, she was very, very wrong. His tail twitched impatiently, wanting this meeting to be done with sooner rather than later.

A low rumbling growl left Batglow's throat as Tanglerose arrived. He didn't like the sight of the pelt covered cats, it was something he could never grow used to. He paused in his stride to the warrior's den before turning his gaze and following the former Shadowclan warrior. What did she want?

The lanky black tom stood tall, green eyes narrowed towards the new Asylum cat. His fangs protruding from his mouth like usual. He wanted nothing more than to sink his fangs into her pelt for betraying them, for going rogue, but he wouldn't. He wouldn't put that strain on Shadowclan. Clan life was so much better than rogue life but clearly she didn't see it that way. She would much rather cause pain and limit those from living their life than be with the clan that took care of her.

"Is that a threat you mangy raccoon wanna-be?" The tom growled out as he stalked closer, his usual kind loving personality long gone. If she wanted trouble then he would give it to her.

Tavora's little ear flicked with the mild annoyance she suffered at the sound of Rookpaw's dissent. Brave little bugger. He certainly wasn't a half-bad medicine cat... the worst were the yellow-bellied ones. It wouldn't do him well here, though she had a certain respect for it. It was the respect a hawk had for a rabbit that had put up a fight in its final moments. Not quite enough respect to release the grip of her talons, but enough to hope it reached a pleasant afterlife. And, in a way, Rookpaw reminded her of what she had lost, and how grief had warped her. She felt se had no choice but to hate him for it, unfortunate as it was.  

More cats joined in the jeers and shouts. The only voice that really mattered was Flintstar's; as long as he was satisfied the rest of the clan would always fall in line.

"Should I be offended that you all think so little of me? Have I ever put a claw on a single cat in this camp? No matter how many times I've been scorned by your ranks, I always kept to myself. I kept my mouth shut. I opened it once, and suddenly I'm no longer worth your respect. Despite everything... you always think you're on the right side of the argument. And quite frankly, as annoying as it is, I don't have the energy to entertain the narrative you've set up for me. You never accepted me as a member of this clan, not for a minute, and I'm not going to grovel for your affection now." Tavora shut her eyes for a languid moment of reflection and relaxation as she settled her aggravated hackles. "Flintstar, Rookpaw, you have my word that no cat will get hurt," she purred. "Not by my tooth or claw. I can't, and won't try, to speak for my friends. In any case, I've heard things. News from across the thunderpath. I hear the last warrior to give a nightstriker a hard time was... made an example."

Tavora raised her claws to her own face and motioned in a diagonal slash, left ear to right jaw. She let the simple yet sinister display sit on their minds. Though it was a bit too gruesome for her own tastes, she would do what was necessary to preserve the hierarchy of the Asylum if need be. "Bee-something. Beeclaw? I don't remember. Something about his mother set him off. I hear ThunderClan's been playing much nicer ever since."

The nightstriker sat down, curling her half-raccoon, half-cat tail around her paws neatly, with more regality than she had ever attempted to portray in her life. "ShadowClan, one of your warriors is being put on trial. It looks like some cats think us fools who can't be trusted with our own ranks. They think our ways are inferior, barbaric, and tribal, and in their prejudice, they try to turn our young ones against us." Tavora's eyes fell on the accused in an intense leer. "They think there's some kind of issue with the training we give each faction of our great legion, though it is specialized based on the needed skills and limited abilities of every cat. And listen, felines, we can cast stones all day. I have plenty of gripes with your ways. Clans don't teach medicine cats combat, nor warriors life-saving herbs. It's counter-productive and foolish, but protected by the oh-so-sacred and unchanging laws of dead cats. But you don't see me wandering around camp passing out poppy seeds and cobwebs to apprentices, do you? I played by the rules you set for me my entire life. And even now that I'm finally out, I don't meddle."

Tavora cleared her throat and rose, her voice growing louder as she stood: "Well, after bringing this... information... to the faction heads, they decided that it would be best if the Asylum cats stationed in ShadowClan were to get to the bottom of this."

Tavora's head snapped towards Ichtaca, adderlike. "I expected better of you, Ichtaca. You're a fantastic ward. Always very meticulous with my raccoon. Iniko spoke very highly of you, and you fulfill your duties diligently. Your handiwork is amazing... but you let yourself be led astray. You're here to teach the Clans, bring them to us, not the other way around!" she implored, more like a disappointed queen to a petulant kit than a callous judge.

Stiffening up, Tavora felt a rage blossoming in her chest. "Murkystrike, step forward, and explain to us exactly what you've done."

Murkystrike gently brushed her shoulder to Ichtaca's as she approached, a guarded kindness in her gaze as the she-cat settled near her. Turning the other way, she smiled as Mistyfalcon settled on her other side, purring quietly as he got comfortable nearby. Her attention returned towards Tavora as Flintstar and Rookpaw spoke, and she nodded in agreement at their sentiments. Raising a dark paw towards her maw to groom it as Tavora rattled on, her ear flicked and her tongue hesitated as Tavora mentioned a trial. Blinking slowly, she wondered who had done something, and what? Had a patrol traded blows? She hadn't heard of anything like that, but that isn't to say it wasn't a possibility. As the she-cat continued about training, the fur prickled along her spine and her eyes narrowed, her paw lowering back to the ground as she glared at Tavora, not surprised to see her glaring back. Resisting the urge to rise to her paws as the raccoon-pelted cat spat criticisms, she forced her fur to flatten as she continued to meet Tavora's glare with her own level stare.

As the she-cat turned towards Ichtaca, though, Murkystrike could no longer force her paws to be still. Rising, she stepped in front of the smaller she-cat, lips raising in a silent snarl though she forced her claws to remain fully sheathed. Ichtaca had done nothing wrong, nothing at all, and neither had she. As Tavora stiffened and turned her words back to Murkystrike, the she-cat walked slowly, deliberately forward to stand before Tavora with her head raised. Her tail lashed behind her as she responded. "I've merely been showing Ichtaca some alternate ways for hunting and fighting. So much focus is put on brute strength, that I wanted to show her that there are other ways to win a fight or catch food, especially against a much larger target. Wit, speed, and stealth are just as much a part of success as strength is. I didn't think I would have to explain that to an older cat, let alone one who went through the same training I did. Perhaps that wisdom abandoned you when you turned your back on ShadowClan, Tavora." She mewed simply, tilting her head slightly as she sat down, paying the gathered crowd no mind. Her attention was firmly set on Tavora, and without breaking eye contact the she-cat began to groom her paw again. "After all, aren't we all supposed to get along and be friends? Learn from each other? That's what Iniko seemed to preach." She mewed, placing her paw back on the ground.

Rookpaw listened to Tavora speak against him and his clanmates. "Frankly, I don't give a mouse-tail about your blood. What I see is how you've acted to the cats of ShadowClan, and that influences my decision on how I feel on the matter." Every word he said was true, at least in his mind, and he did believe that Tavora was dangerous enough to warrant suspicion, even though she didn't do anything to ShadowClan yet.

As the raccoon-pelted she-cat continued her announcement, she seemed to glare at one cat in particular - Murkystrike, to be exact. When she said what Murkystrike did out loud, Rookpaw stayed silent. Perhaps it was because he knew to keep his mouth shut to protect his clan, or perhaps because he wanted to listen to what both sides had to say on the matter. Tavora spoke on how Murkystrike trained an Asylum pelt ward, named Ichtaca, while Murkystrike retorted in saying that she was teaching Ichtaca how to hunt and fight. Rookpaw wanted to contribute to the discussion, but he knew that with an angered tone against Tavora, the Nightstriker wouldn't even try to listen to him. His best shot was to act somewhat neutral, while also telling his point of view.

"Iniko did preach that ShadowClan and the Asylum should be working together, and a group like the Clans could at the very least teach Asylum some things, while the Asylum teaches the Clans about other things." His voice was smooth and diplomatic, much unlike the harsh voice he had been speaking with beforehand. It was part of an attempt to stay calm and neutral on the matter. "As most of you know, Iniko and I lived in the same den before his passing. He told me about Asylum and how its system worked." The black tuxedo took a deep breath. "As any Asylum cat would know, Pelt Wards are cats who don't belong in any of the three main factions: Nightstrikers, Scouts, and Standards."

"Perhaps Asylum made a mistake in assigning Ichtaca to be a Pelt Ward. Murkystrike revealed Ichtaca's potential that Asylum seemed to miss, and if she had the right guidance after she was born, Ichtaca could have been a great Scout or Standard for you." The black tuxedo also thought that many other cats had similar potential ceilings that would never be achieved. Maybe Asylum should just abolish the Pelt Ward faction altogether. He wasn't going to say that out loud, though. "If there's anything you should give Murkystrike, it's praise. Praise for giving one of your cats hunting and fighting techniques that they never learned. Praise for unlocking the skill of a cat the Asylum never thought was possible. Praise for helping bring another capable cat into Asylum's ranks." The diplomatic approach he was coming up on the fly felt strange, but also like the right thing to do in the future. He wasn't brashly attacking Tanglerose like he was earlier, but instead defending his clanmate in a calm, collected way.

Again, at her words, there was an outcry of protest. Though Rookpaw was very insistent on his qualms being heard, Tavora had no more patience left for him. She let him speak, though did not give him as much as a whisker in the direction of his voice. It fell on her deaf ears, and fizzled into nothingness, no more than the beat of a butterfly's wing... except for the brief mention of her beloved, which stabbed sharply into her heart, eliciting a physical wince of agony. The charges brought against Murkystrike were the focus of this meeting, not a simple medicine cat's objections to the proceedings. Her tail twitched underneath the raccoon pelt, awaiting the she-cat's official testimony. As she spoke, she echoed the sentiments of the whole of ShadowClan, that there was something fundamentally wrong with the way the Asylum operated. It proved everything Tavora had ever known, though the clans, her former clanmates, would never recognize it. If she was honest with herself, she was not over the betrayal. But this was not about her.

"Thank you, Murkystrike, for your... comprehensive testimony," she said. "The fact of the matter is, you broke our laws. Regardless of your personal feelings, that's a condemnable offense. Ichtaca and the other Pelt Wards were put in their place for a reason, and if you had any sense of scope, you would see why. It's a wild world out there, felines. Not every single cat in the woods is bound by your sacred oath. ShadowClan, though this may come as a shock to you, the ways of StarClan, and the five clans of this forest, are not superior just because you say they are. You are not better, more just, more compassionate, or more noble because your ancestors whispered in your ear that you are the only acceptable way. And let me tell you, with every rogue I drove out of your land, with every war I fought on behalf of narcissistic ghosts, and with every piece of prey I caught that was fed to a different mouth, I knew that this culture was failing me and my kin. My mother starved in this very camp. The weakness that you taught to my sister, Eveningpaw, who slept in the den where Rookpaw now sleeps, drove her out of this forest and into the inviting paws of a twoleg. And yet, time and time and time and time again, you insist that you are correct. It is the attitude of a sore loser. You are so quick to cast blame on the Asylum, but tell me this: who has conquered you?"

Tavora leaned towards Flintstar. "I remember your mother fondly as a leader, and I believe she left you well-equipped to lead this clan. But as a historian, Thornstar failed us, and she failed you. This Clan was denied the true story of my grandfather, who you called Burnstag. He had a vision for this forest that will finally be realized... a forest that isn't bound by the Code, but by fluid laws decided collectively by living cats. Not specters." Returning her gaze to the gathered cats, she continued. "And you have some options, ShadowClan! You can get with the program, and join the empire that the Asylum is building, and fall into rank with us... or you can live as a prisoner in your own home. The choice is all yours."

With every word, she was coming closer and closer to Murkystrike, until her raccoon-covered muzzle was nearly touching hers. The silent standoff that followed lasted several gruelling moments. "Unfortunately, there won't be a choice for you," she hissed. "Believe me when I say that this is not the punishment I would have picked. But, these orders are far above me. It really is nothing personal. I'm just a messenger."

Her voice was louder now, more violent, and she finally recited the speech she had been given: "By order of Asylum Head Eris, you are under arrest! You will be taken to the prisoners' encampment, where you will be put under constant watch. There will be plenty of time to reflect on your place in the empire and what you want that to be. Anybody who has an issue with that can join her." Tavora's head swiveled to the Asylum cats gathered around her, who had already been informed of the situation at hand. This trial had been rigged from the start, the sentence decided before a single hearing. Tavora had not lied; it was beyond her ranking to ask questions. Eris was a terrifying beast, and not a soul dared object to a direct order... not a smart one, anyway. "Please, take her away. And Ichtaca... you're not off the hook, either."

A group of pelted cats suddenly flooded Murkystrike and grabbed her, like a swarm of wasps attacking an invader. They hauled her towards the camp entrance without a second thought, and another set prevented her clanmates from assisting. How the cats of ShadowClan felt about Tavora now was not a concern. All that mattered was that an example had been made, and that the cats of this clan would not see or hear from Murkystrike for a very long time.

---

ooc: You cannot follow them. You cannot fight. You cannot save her. You are powerless. The Asylum has begun taking drastic measures to ensure the cooperation of the clan cats. Detain, arrest, imprison. The rebels disappear into thin air, to a secret place where no clan cat can follow. Are the prisoners dead or alive? It's impossible to know. This is the fate of all cats who may step out of line... and be caught doing so.

And, yes, this is the baby jail that staff has been threatening. ;D

"I broke your laws?" Murkystrike protested, her eyes widening slightly as she realized what Tavora was about to do. "Name this supposed law I broke, you coward. The demands were no Highstones, no Fourtrees, no other clans, no fighting back. I haven't raised a claw to any of your companions, in fact, I've been trying to help them. To make peace with one of them. If I am a threat to your delicate balance of power for simply offering and helping train another cat in alternative ways of survival where you failed to do so, then that is a position I am more than willing to claim. But you have no authority to claim I disobeyed a command." She stood still as Tavora's muzzle nearly touched hers, green eyes glaring into yellow. With a sudden yowl from the she-cat, Murkystrike turned to see that she had been surrounded only a moment before they overwhelmed her. Multiple sets of teeth in her scruff dragged her away from the camp, and she hissed and lashes out at a few that got too close to her claws. What was the meaning of this? Where were they taking her? Why was what she had done so wrong? Her desperate gaze fell on familiar faces, two sticking out more than the others. Ichtaca, who Murkystrike didn't blame, and she hoped that the she-cat would continue practicing and getting better, and Mistyfalcon. She met his eyes for only a moment before she was dragged out of camp, no longer able to see her Clanmates.

Crowcall watched everything unfolding before him keen interest. Not concern or anger, but...interest.

Anybody who has an issue with that can join her...

Of course, being dragged off as a prisoner seemed awful. The last thing he wanted was even less freedom than he already had. But--

There were ideas churning through his head-- options-- but all contingent on making big decisions about what he thought the future held.

No, no. He needed more time to think this through. But the beginnings of a plan were forming in his mind.

Misstyfalcon returned Murkystrike's smile with one of his own, wrapping his tail around his paws as he sat next to her.

It didn't take long for the cause of the meeting to be revealed, and Mistyfalcon kept his face blank, giving no outward reaction to the mention of the brutalized Thunderclanner. Tavora couldn't even be bothered to get Beecloud's name right... He only hoped that she'd been so inattentive as to not understand the ploy that had developed as Mistyfalcon had skirmished with him.

"Your ways are barbaric, and Starclan has precious little to do with it." He muttered, enough for Murkystrike and Ichtaca, who sat closer to him, to hear. He subsided then, though he had to agree with Rookpaw and Murkystrike as they offered their own rebukes of Tavora's words.

The gray she-cat prattled on about the Asylum and law-breaking, and the tom let out a derisive snort. Rookpaw was right; Iniko had preached about the two groups helping one another. Murkystrike had helped one of their own learn to hunt on their territory. The rogues were staying in Shadowclan territory, and Murkystrike had given that she-cat, Ichtaca, the skills to contribute effectively. Something very few of the Asylum cats actually did, despite taking prey from the fresh kill pile and taking space in Shadowclan territory.

That was against their laws? Hypocritical fleabags, every last one of them. Mistyfalcon seethed in silence as Tavora continued, feeling rage at every word from the she-cat's mouth.

The sentence was handed down, and Mistyfalcon's fur bristled as a swarm of Asylum cats closed in around them. His gaze locked briefly with that of Murkystrike's, but he could do nothing. His brief struggle was quickly ended with Mistyfalcon pinned, tail lashing back and forth in cold fury. Murkystrike was dragged away, and he could do nothing but watch. Anger burned in his chest.

Now they knew the lengths Asylum was willing to go, to keep control over them. But they would not, and could not, break. He stilled beneath the Asylum paws pinning him down, though his mind raced with the memory of Beecloud's voice. Asylum would be driven out, in time. Acting irrationally would help no one.

Batglow growled out as soon as the other rogues jumped into the camp and started to drag Murkystrike away, the tall lanky tom stood to stop them but just as he did, they were gone too soon, and prevented from taking action by a wall of other Asylum cats. Of course these cowards wouldn't let them step in.

"Cowards." Batglow growled out, his large ears pressed back green eyes narrowed into a firm glare. "You all preach about being so great, but it takes a group of you to take one warrior? Just shows how weak you are."

The lanky black tom turned his gaze towards Tavora. "You included. Choosing to hide behind a pelt of a weak creature. Can't even bother to do the dirty work you were sent to do. Just a useless messenger." Batglow chuckled lowly. "Hah. I bet that is how they see you. Just a useless messenger that will betray them any second like you did with us." He was tired of sitting by quietly. He was tired of putting on a smile for everyone, for once he wanted to cause a little chaos. This was just a breaking point.