OPEN — there was a cat that really was gone

[Ivan]

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— Бра́тья Карама́зовы

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Ivan woke up, stole traveling herbs from his parents, and mentally prepared himself for his journey. He wasn't nearly as impulsive as his younger brother, but these volatile times were certainly taking a toll on his normally chilly and astute aura. Demons began to seep from the cracks of his mind, demons he desperately shoved and pushed down as often as he could.

What are you doing? His thoughts taunted him as he placed the first step beyond the border. Can it be that the atheistic Ivan does, in fact, believe in heroism?

He doesn't believe in that. Or does he? He so desperately wants to find some consolation in the wake of his mother's death, stolen from the family by a accident of nature. He tells himself that it's not his fault, neither Atticus', but that doesn't stop him from writhing in fury when he realized that his brother was missing. Maybe he can satisfy this confusion and aching void in his heart by hunting down his brother. For leaving them. Is that the heroic thing to do?

Six kittens were born to Selby and Moth on the leap year, each bearing the name of a character from a classic book. Winston left for Elysium, Quentin was as good as gone, and now Atticus. Ivan alone was faced with the care of his younger siblings, Simon and Alice, who both had their disabilities.

His paws brush the border, he's further out than he's ever been before. "Finch!" Ivan growls loudly, working his claws into the ground. If he's lucky, Atticus will find him before any Pitt members will. "You left."

[member=11957]Atticus Roux[/member]

[Atticus Roux]

In the wake of his mother's death, the boy found himself lost and shut himself away. Survivor's guilt tormented him endlessly, eating away at his thoughts. The comfort of home was no more. He needed to run. To get out of there. With no home to hide away in or a stable family member to consult, he felt lost. So the kitten went off. The escapism of The Pitt provided him the consultation Atticus needed. Sweeney successfully consoled him during the wrath of his emotions. Needless to say, the world hadn't treated him nicely, but their presence helped sooth his mind.

Finally feeling enough to roam without someone accompanying him, the former Tanglewooder breached through the jungle's underbrush and out into the desert. Unconsciously, his body led him towards the border of his former home. Wandering towards the edge of the neutral grounds, he stared longingly out into the distance. In the horizon, the trees of the swamp dotted the sky. Atticus missed his home, but he knew only foundation and debris was left. If only he knew there was more to that...

As he approached the border closer, a silhouette appeared in range. The blinding sun of the desert prevented him from looking closer, but his questions were soon answered. A furious growl filled his ears. 'Ivan,' his thoughts echoed. His familiar voice was no longer subtle or sweet, but full of rage. Atticus' delinquency and negligence to be there was at fault apparently. Dearly, he wanted to just ignore his call and go elsewhere, but he knew Ivan was dealing with this too. Perhaps they could rejoice over memories together. Maybe even cry on one another's shoulder. His optimistic hope were going to fall flat.

Atticus' ears pinned to the back of his head as he grow closer, traveling to his brother and his namesake's call. His gaze grazed the floor momentarily, noticing his brother's unsheathed claws digging into the ground. Yellow eyes returned promptly to Ivan, greeting him with a half-hearted smile. Introductions seemed to glazed over. "I... I did, yes," he muttered. "What's wrong with that?" He hoped his brother's ignorance wouldn't overcome his intelligence and would allow Ivan to see his reasoning. 

[Ivan]

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— Бра́тья Карама́зовы

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Ivan's features did not betray any soft-heartedness. His seafoam gaze was quite cold, and when Atticus' eyes met his own, he refused to let them lose contact. To look into the eyes of a brother who had shut himself away all this time, to finally see his brother face-to-face after he saw him at the wreckage. Ivan saw his mother in these eyes, and his heart faltered a moment. Tears sprung into his eyes and his brow furrowed in agony. Unhealthy coping was never a good option.

"What's wrong with that?" Ivan echoed incredulously, voice wavering. "How about you tell me? You left your family alone in our darkest moment. I have not only lost a mother, but a brother as well!" He grit his teeth, almost thinking that he was scraping them down to the very root. "Break our father down even more, why don't you?"

He paused to lash his tail, and raise his toes, leaving deep claw-shaped holes in the ground. "You hold more symbolism than most of us, you stupid boy!"

Ivan romanticized symbolism, to an extent that seemed obsessive. Maybe from the beginning Ivan had this notion that he might never fit in. But Atticus had it all, and he didn't even realize it. He knew Atticus's name origins, he sees the mirror resemblance to their grandfather, once a leader.

"Running away," He sniffed. "will only show that you are guilty."

'Now you're being unreasonable, Ivan,' His thoughts wrapped around his head like the snake around the Tree of Life in the garden of Eden. 'And you hate being unreasonable.' Ivan willed them to shut up. In the innermost recesses of his heart and soul, he was terrified of the void he was ripping between him and his brother. Atticus still was his brother. But wrath and guilt, powerful forces, had consumed the young cat's mind. All he could do was brace for the consequences, yet those were thoughts that hadn't even been born yet.

[Atticus Roux]

His ears pinned to the back of his head. Tears bellowed in the boy's eyes as his listened and sorrow encapsulated his heart. 'I have not only lost a mother, but a brother as well!' A choked gasp left his maw. With every blow Ivan verbally dealt, the kitten backed slowly away with his tail between his legs. Ivan's words grasped his attention, stabbing him in the back repeatedly. Even slow. Atticus's eyes squeezed shut, Ivan's wavering phrases overwhelming his system... but it never stopped. His brother held no mercy.

Atticus blubbered through staggered breaths. "I-Ivan, it's not like that," he feverishly begged. His wide yellow gaze opened cautiously, pleading for Ivan's understanding. Maybe even his forgiveness. "I needed to go." Every little aspect of Tanglewood reminded him of his mother. Seeing the remains of their home just made him relive the memory all over again. The crash replayed in his thoughts, tormenting Atticus endlessly. From the cracking of her bones to the debris slicing through his ear, he remembered every small detail. Aurum's desperate call, Ivan's bloodied facade, and Alice's reassuring echos in the distance. Even Selby's unnervingly calm stature radiated within his mind. In the heat of the moment, they crowded his brother. While they were attending to him, did they even happen to notice Atticus' ear sliced in half? Or that he just watched his prized mother succumb to death's grip? Bloodied and defeated, he wondered if they even cared. The apparent golden child felt alone.

Moth's death made him question his independence. Once relying on his mother, he was thrown aside to fight on his own. The grey tabby wasn't as smart as his brother. Ivan's intelligence surpassed his greatly, but where was his sensibility? He dearly wished that his brother could see why he left. Ignorance led him elsewhere. "Can't you see that?" he bellowed.  "I couldn't bare to stay." His gaze faltered momentarily, looking away from his brother. "Every time I walked past our home, it was like watching her die all over again, Ivan." In the meantime, Atticus was fighting to survive. He was growing on his own without his family. After all, they would see him as a burden after this, wouldn't they? Seeing the son or brother that caused Moth to die would just ruin them. Subconsciously, the guilt was tearing him apart. Her demise was not Atticus' fault, but the spared kitten still blamed himself.

'You are guilty.'

Confirmation. As tears slid down his matted cheeks, he heaved. Breaking down, Atticus' body began to shake violently. "Stop..." There was no use though. Through his lowly begging, Ivan's presence still towered over him. "I didn't..." he whimpered, words trailing off. "I didn't do it." Spiraling further, the boy let his legs buckle forward. With one last request, he let out a pained cry. "Please."

[Ivan]

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— Бра́тья Карама́зовы

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It was not honor for his family that drove Ivan, it wasn't to make himself feel better, or even to protect what semblance of dignity Atticus might have back home after deserting. He didn't care about the politics of it all. No, it was something raw and just utterly evil without justification. The young cat did not know what came over him as he raised his hackles and bared his teeth at his pleading brother.

What? Was he asking for mercy? Why should he give any mercy? It didn't exist. This entire world was absurd and Ivan hated it. He never hated it more than right now at this moment. In spite of that, he kept on living, his consent form for suffering. It's a wonderful thing, to live, in the simplest sense of it. To think is dangerous.

"We all walk by that house!" Ivan cried out. "We didn't leave. You're tricking yourself into thinking that it's the only way to get over the grief and guilt, but you're only placating it and giving into its demands."

He had his own nights, with dreams so vivid he woke himself up with his throat feeling sore as if he had been actually screaming in the waking world as he had done in his dreaming replaying of the tragic day. And he paced the wreckage, using the great facilities of his rather gifted imagination to build it all up again, to see his mother in the rose crown that he gave to her on Mother's Day. To see Winston, and Atticus ...

He was looking at a reflection of himself that he didn't want to see. Helplessness and an almost sort of submission due to the heavy weight of guilt. It bowed Atticus down, something Ivan thought could never happen to his extroverted sibling. But I'm stronger than that. My theory ...

It was as if in that moment Ivan forgot he was looking at a brother. Something was dying, but it had been dying for a long time, since the incident with the monster of many eyes.

"Do you know, Atticus, how one loses his mind?" Ivan said very slowly and quietly now. He flashed out a paw, aiming to strike Atticus in the face. Teeth gnashing, he had the appearance of fighting back some unseen demon, and leapt for his brother, aiming to tackle him to the ground where his claws unsheathed and attempted to turn them against his own flesh and blood.

/ open now!

[DANTE NORTHWEST.]

[glow=white,1,400]I THINK I'M TOO FAR GONE TO SAVE ! — ｡+ﾟ.[/glow]

Enemies on their territory was growing to be a big pain in the ass for Dante, not only because of the fact that they were enemies on The Pitt's land, but because Kydobi seemed to allow it. Makes us seem like pushovers. Dante thought to himself, a scowl on his maw as he tracked down the scent of Tanglewood. But the leader's word was something to obey, even if he didn't personally agree with it.

As Dante came closer to the scene, he could hear yelling and the sound of Atticus's voice hit his ears. Curious, the hybrid decided to investigate. Just as he arrived though, a stranger tried to lash out at the newest Pittian. To Dante, this looked like just some enemy wanting to cause some trouble - he had no idea of the history between Atticus and this stranger. Dante spat out his cigarette and smashing it with his paw to put it out, before he rushed forward, trying to shove his way between IVAN and ATTICUS. If he succeeded, he would sustain a couple of scratch wounds from Ivan but they were only a mere cut to him. They hurt sure, but it was something easy to ignore.

"Get lost, pipsqueak." Dante snarled, glaring down at Ivan. As much as he despised Atticus at the moment, the kid was a Pittian now, just like him. He was a clanmate, family through the group. He didn't want to harm Ivan if he didn't have to, but helping out Atticus was his main priority right now.[glow=COLOR,1,400] ━ ✧*:･ﾟ[/glow]

[DIRT]

cw: insects & parasites.

---

AND HE LAPS UP THE VICE LIKE A WOLF IN THE NIGHT

Dirt had happened on quite a scene indeed. He'd smelled something foreign through the brush, another group, something young, still tinged with milk. He followed his nose, happening on the two brothers, so small, so filled with grief. A mother's love, a mother's loss. It was enough to make his heart ache.

If he'd had one.

Another had rushed onto the scene, a large hybrid cat, protecting the one that smelled most like The Pitt. New blood, then. Not long after he himself had joined. Dante snarled at the very upset little cat, and Dirt let his lips warp into a grin. Perhaps the offending kitten needed some encouragement.

The massive beast stalks towards the three, making his own attempt to force distance between the brothers with bared teeth and rotting breath, his muzzle swooping low, trying to nudge Ivan back, standing in front of Dante. He was not rough, but his massive teeth carried a threat. And it would be so easy, to close his jaws over that pulsing little life. Insignificant to the large wolf. Barely a snack.

"You're far from home, little one. And so brave," He croons, his voice smooth as honey. Filled with botulism and maggots. Writhing, like the centipede skittering up his leg. Cockroaches dance in his fur, one running over his snout, as he tries to get in Ivan's face. "Run along, now. Your brother made his choice."

He is ours, now, little boy. Dirt pants in the heat, tongue dripping with saliva, fetid and filled with worms.

code by spacexual

[Mercede]

MERCEDE

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diamonds are a girl’s bestfriend -

mercede f. callahan
the pitt
2 months


pronounced: (mur-say-dee)

general
female - marble cross fox (white, gray, black) - 2 months - Jervis x Fourthwall - no crush - no mentor

powers
mental manipulation

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---

call me your sweet baby —



When she had heard Ivan’s voice and smelled his scent she was quite pleased. In her little mind she would paint this little fantasy of the young boy coming to visit her! She couldn’t really think of any other reason for him to be here besides for her.

However what she walked up on seemed like a sibling quarrel. She would remain silent, her slitted honey eyes watching and absorbing information. Ivan would launch himself but others had already stepped in, and where was Kydobi? Seemed he lacked a presence in these situations.

Either way, even if she considered Ivan a friend... she did enjoy bloodshed. Although she was a little surprised to see it brother on brother. The Callahan sisters hardly got along but they never actually got to blows. Mercede flicked her ear she wanted to know what happened.

“Ivan? What’s wrong?”, she didn’t know who Atticus was and even if he smelled more like a Pittian... wasn’t a concern of hers.

[sup][w]isker[/sup]

[gael]

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♛ GAEL Ó BROIN

It appeared as though the relative peace the vulpine had begun to enjoy finding on the border may be shattering for the day.  Glinting in the sun, golden eyes narrowed in thought -- this seemed to be a delicate situation.

The faerie released a huff of breath as he approached the scene; a neutral, almost cold, expression on his face.  "Enough.  Everyone needs to take a step back, now." 

It was right to defend Atticus as a clanmate, however Gael did not want to see further instigation; especially by the older members of the Pitt.  This appeared to be the exact situation he wanted to avoid with their newcomers from other groups.  At least in this particular case, it was only a child acting out in their hurt and betrayal, rather than an adult.

Regardless, Gael hardly appreciated the event.

Softening his tone, the Vicar directed his attention to the brothers, "now what's happening here?"

"ISN'T IT LOVELY?" —-- gael ó broin / faerie / vicar / lamby

[Atticus Roux]

As his brother spoke, Atticus cowered in fear. The empathy Ivan once held visibly slipped away. With every word, he plead for his brother's mercy. His eyes watered. Similar to his mother's death, the world felt like it was crumbling around him. He felt his chest cave in and his legs grow weak, guilt overtaking his system. The extroverted boy was holding himself back, allowing his brother to stick daggers in his back and claw at his mind. Atticus was allowing himself to succumb. Did he deserve to suffer for abandoning them? Survivor's guilt said so. After all, the torture Ivan endowed on him continued.

Something had changed though. Ivan's intelligence no longer dominated the situation, but instead he threw out a final hypothetical question with damning rage. Atticus hesitated, blinded by his own bewilderment. Before he could reply, the flash of sharp teeth and ivory claws came his way. The Pittians who tried to step in were unsuccessful. Their timely arrivals were too late. Unable to dodge, his brother's claws sliced through his face. He bowled over onto the floor with a thud and let out a cry. Every slash of Ivan's claws caused him to beg, scream, and yowl for forgiveness. "Brother, p-please," he muttered weakly.

His own hesitance soon faded and adrenaline fueled his need to escape. Atticus' patience was wearing thin. Finding no end to the madness, he attempted to kick at Ivan's chest and proceed to pull away. The bleeding kitten rolled over onto his paws, pushing himself to a standing position. Despite The Pittian's now behind him and trying to intervene, the kitten remained in place. His pained expression faded. Concealed rage overtook his system, slowly driving him towards Ivan. Claws slowly escaped their sheaths, dwindling over the thought of digging in. The sides of his maw pulled back, revealing stained teeth. A low growl left him. "Go home, Ivan," Atticus spat, saliva and blood shooting towards his brother. "Now."

Despite Gael's request to step back, the kitten remained in his place. Unwavering yellow eyes glared up at Ivan. "My brother-" His voice faltered, thinking back to when Ivan told him he lost a brother. It was unclear to him whether he meant Winston or Atticus, but he took it personally nevertheless. "-is angry because I had the pleasure of watching our mother DIE." Sarcasm riddled his tone. Tears welled up in his gaze. "He doesn't understand I left to escape the reminder of her, our papa's wrathful sorrow, and his ill-conceived intelligence." He choked, ears pinning to the back of his head. "Can't you see?" he called out. At this time, he was addressing Ivan directly again.