Ignition Point (FLASH EVENT)

[Cloudbat]

[bg=3b5839][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,500,true] Weight pressed into his fur and it was the only sensation. He smelled nothing, saw nothing, tasted, heard or even felt anything but a great pressure on all sides. It wasn’t painful, but it was extremely uncomfortable. Eventually it lifted. Once more he sat among the ranks of his shining ancestors in a place that was the mirror of the earthly Moonpool. He watched for the third time now as a pale outline of himself took its place in the glade alone, soon joined by familiar faces. Elkstar was foremost among them, the old leader gazing at him with sorrow and love. Yet it was his true father, Oaknose, who walked purposefully to the front of the group – it seemed to be composed of all the cats that had given him lives - and sat, staring at his son with eyes of dark blue and a face of white and brown that almost seemed familiar. “Do you not remember my warning when the fox killed you? I see not, for you have turned a blind eye to the strife in your own Clan. This fire is a chance to rebuild, Cedarstar. Use it well and you can reunite your divided Clan. Crack under the pressure…and you might as well throw your lives away, for you will have no kingdom left to rule.” The words were spoken without a trace of either pity or contempt; they were as flat as a pond in stagnant heat. The thick-furred tom was stunned in more ways than one. Why was it not Elkstar who counseled him? Why this strange, cold tom who was supposedly his blood father? “Who are you to tell me how run my Clan?” He growled. He respected his ancestors, but Oaknose was acting like he was a day-old kit. “Elkstar, speak to me. You have the right to instruct me, you and the other wise ones of StarClan. Not this upstart.” Elkstar sighed and his face showed the age of one who has seen more moons than he would have liked. “Oaknose speaks truly, my son. I know you may not have meant to do so on purpose, but your choices in high rank and even daily matters reflect favoritism. Show those not of Clan birth that they are still bound by the same code. Show them what it means to be a Clan cat. And be sure to thank your rescuer, no matter how much pride dwells in your heart, for pride will cripple even the strongest leader. Do not make my mistakes, Cedarstar.” The aged tom bent forward to lick his son on the head. “And I wish you well in fatherhood.” Shocked by the leader’s last words, he longed to ask more, but familiar darkness enveloped his vision and his spirit returned to earth, fresh in his fourth life. The life he now remembered Oaknose had given him. Justice. The MeadowClan leader’s heart beat once more as his yellow eyes opened. Shocked to see Elkstep, of all cats, beside him.

[Pyro]

He wasn't quite sure how he did it, but he did it. In between coughing, and cursing, and inhaling more smoke than was healthy for any cat to take into their lungs, Elkstep dragged Cedarstar's body out of the fire. He didn't want to admit it. He wished with all his heart he could say it was nothing, that it was easy, that he'd done a million things that were a million times harder...but the truth was, the only thing he'd done that had been harder than saving the dead body of a cat he'd been heard to hate, was falling in love with Essie. God damn it was hard to be in love with her. But that was beside the point, at the moment. The small tom was exhausted in more ways than one as he observed Cedarstar's motionless carcass. Someone would have to tell Gingerstripe. It'd probably end up being him...Cor...he'd had to tell a she-cat once that a loved one was dead. It wasn't pretty. It wasn't fun. And it sure as hell wasn't easy. What made the whole thing especially hard, was the realization that Elkstep didn't want Cedarstar dead. For all his faults, he was a strong leader, and Elkstep really, really didn't want to have to deal with Sparrowstar. At least, not yet. Not before some of her less-than-stellar qualities were hammered out of her through the trials of deputyship and age. With experience she might outgrow her hatred of loners and loner-borns, but right now? Experience was something she lacked, something Cedarstar had. And yet as experienced as Cedarstar was, he was still....He still exhibited favoritism. He just couldn't give the loners a shot to prove that they were clancats now, as much as the clanborns. That was something he had to rectify. Cedarstar couldn't just die and leave the problem to the one cat who would probably screw it up a whole hell of a lot more than he had already. Sparrowstar. "Meadowclan ain't ready for that." Lord knows, Elktep certainly wasn't. Perhaps he'd leave. Essie wanted to find her brother, and the longer they waited the less likely it was that that would ever happen. He looked at his leader's body again, a wry smile on his face. "I'd say a few words, but I'm probably not the cat your spirit wants to hear them from." Chuckle. "Not sure I could find the words to say anyway." Dear lord, he was talking to a dead body. That was a new level of sad, even for-holy mother of jesus. That was a breath. Cedarstar's corpse breathed. Elkstep's eyes? Saucers. "Jesus, Mary, and all the holy ghosts." Okay, okay, he'd heard about the whole nine lives thing, but come on. That was a kit's tale. Or just another way to beef up the position of top dog in the clans. But. Jesus. This was....Jesus. This was resurrection. What. The hell. "You're...um. Are you...ah...feeling okay?" Christ. How do you deal with a situation like this? How do you comprehend something like this? Cedarstar. Had nine lives. That was a lot of time to work with. A lot of time for change. "Unreal." Speaking [bg=d6d5ae][atrb=width,500,true] [atrb=border,0,true]

[RiiRii]

Sparrowclaw had watched this all unfold, her breathing having finally calmed down and the feeling of her lungs lightening meant that most of the dense smoke had finally left her breathing system.

Next she saw Cedarstar lie there limp, her green eyes flashing with wonder and then she saw his chest raise and deflate. Suddenly, she let out a gasp of air. She hadn't realized she had been holding her breath and watching her beloved leader in true expectation and hope of his awaken. She would have to ask him how many lives he had left. She hoped it was a lot, she really did. She wasn't ready to lose her leader just yet. Her gaze moved up to Elkstep, smirking. Gloating, before looking over towards Cedarstar's mate. Staying silent, she assessed how this would end. Shadepaw had arrived too and was unconscious. She would have to check he was fine, he wasn't like Cedarstar. He had only the one life.

Shadepaw... He would be fine, right? He was strong and ever growing.

[Cloudbat]

Elkstep's words meant nothing to him but he could tell that they were obviously some reaction of awe. The next sensation even before his sight caught up with his brain was the smoke and ash coating his throat with each breath and the distant heat of the fire. Blearily, he looked from his rescuer to the dying flames - he felt a few light drops of rain on his head - and back again, unable to comprehend what had happened.

The world has no reason.

His first attempts at speech resulted in hacking and toxins being thrown up out of his body as he retched, rolling over and hunching. Looking with bleary disgust as the mess and loathing the burning feeling in his throat, he spat a few times and finally deemed himself ready to talk.

"I have...nine lives. You not...know?" He choked out, looking at the warrior with disbelief. "Why...rescue me then?" A stupid question in various ways but one he wanted answered. Perhaps this WOULD be an opportunity to hold the Clan together. It would need it in the trying times to come.

As much as I hate being in Elkstep's debt, this could work in my favor. I just need to figure out how.

He longed to sleep, but knew he had a Clan to look after and hesitantly raised himself on muscular yet shaking limbs. StarClan, his throat was dry. He needed water. Though he hated to do so, he knew he needed to drink before he could help anyone. With painful slowness he limped himself to the treelength or so off river and lapped, feeling guilt welling up inside him more every moment.

[ambird]

Leaving the smog-filled area of the camp, Gingerstripe turned her attention back on the Highrock. It seemed most cats had made it out, and only a few stragglers remained. Should she herself leave as well? Rhea was taking Cindertail out, and Hawkheart had told Foxpaw and Shrewstorm to go over and help Palefoot, while she went to get Shadepaw. Everyone seemed to be accounted for. Wait. Had a shadow just scurried into the medicine cat's den? What in the name of Starclan--? Whipping her head around to look back to the Highrock, she noticed something she hadn't seen before. Elkstep. He was dragging another cat--who was Cedarstar! Great Starclan! Had he--had he lost another life? It appeared that with Elkstep dragging him out to safety! By why was Elkstep helping him? Seems disaster is our only way of coming together as a Clan, she thought gloomily. Glancing back to the medicine cat's den, she briefly weighed her options. Going to go and investigate the whereabouts of whoever had gone back into the smokey mess, or go on and help Cedarstar? Just then, she noticed an even darker figure emerge from the smog. Having such dark fur, Gingerstripe didn't even notice when Littlewhisker had crept up to her. "Go on, I'll stay here and make sure everyone leaves. I believe Mottledpaw's just gone into the medicine cat's den to save what herbs she can. I'll go and join her. You go to the river." Littlewhisker commanded her. Being an older and more experienced warrior, and a consultant of Cedarstar, Gingerstripe listened to the black she-cat, and made her way out to the river. --- Watching the ginger she-cat leave, Littlewhisker sighed and turned back to the mess that had been the camp. She counted each cat who had left, noticing Foxpaw among those who were finally get their hind-quarters out of here. Padding as fast as she could through the dense smoke, she came to the entrance of the medicine cat den, and called out for Mottledpaw. "Are you in here? I've come to help you, we need to leave as soon as possible!" [bg=b97335][atrb=width,469,true] [atrb=border,0,true]

[megasaffe]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,500,true]

[bg=000000] When Shadepaw woke up, he was next to the river. Immediately he coughed, the movement bringing black smoky ucky stuff out of his throat. He turned to his rescuer... Hawkheart. What would I do without Hawkheart... I must be sure to do something to make it up to the she-cat "Thank you...Hawkheart."

[Pyro]

Elkstep did not answer Cedarstar's second question right away, merely shook his head in reply to the first. This was all a bit much for him. He knew death. Once a cat died, it was dead. There weren't supposed to be any 'buts'. Buts in death were unnatural. You died, you went on the final journey to heaven or hell, and that was it. Your loved ones mourned for you, your enemies celebrated, the uninvolved offered condolences or walked away without a word. You didn't come back to life. And you certainly didn't do so eight times. And yet here was Cedarstar, living proof that something, excuse me, Starclan, was giving clan leaders nine lives. Nine lives. Nine deaths. To die nine times...even in service of something you loved...Yes. He would die nine times, twenty even, for Essie. But that didn't mean he wanted nine deaths. That was just crazy...Elkstep wouldn't wish that much suffering on anyone. Not even Essie's treacherous brother. One death was enough. One was natural. The small warrior shook his head again as Cedarstar moved off to the river. The leader's hesitance was not lost on the tabby, and he followed the large brown tom to the riverside, watching him with hazel eyes that were both curious and troubled. He still hadn't given Cedarstar an answer, and he had a feeling he wouldn't be able to get out of giving one. But... "I don't know." Elkstep sighed, trying to find the words. He didn't quite know why he did it himself. Well, he did. But. "I guess I dragged you out because...because if you were dead then you deserved a proper burial. And Gingerstripe, and Russetpelt, and Littlewhisker, and all the rest of the cats who support you deserve the last time they see you to be...well. Not as a burned, mangled, and otherwise unidentifiable corpse." He dug at the ground, creating deep furrows in the soft bank with his claws. As if the words would somehow come out of the ground and tell Cedarstar, for him, all that needed to be said. "You're no good to this mess dead anyway. And if there was the slightest chance that I was wrong, that you weren't dead...You gotta fix it. Sparrowclaw can't, and not just because she didn't start it. It's gotta be you." "In any case, you're my leader. You gave me a second chance at a real home." Shoulders rolled, claws dug deeper. "I don't wanna see you dead. And if I have to see you dead, I'd rather it be like this. Whole." He took a drink himself, trying to wash the taste of ash and charcoal (and perhaps the explanation) out of his mouth. The drink reminded his body of the state of his lungs though, and he broke off the drink retching and coughing. Only when the wheezing spell was done did he turn back to Cedarstar. "How many times." There was only one thing Elkstep could be referring to. And it was one of the only things that could drag sympathy from the hardened loner. 'How many times have you died?' Speaking [bg=d6d5ae][atrb=width,500,true] [atrb=border,0,true]

[Cloudbat]

Cedarstar coughed and hacked, his body expelling toxins from a throat rough and dry with smoke and yelling. He listened to Elkstep in disbelief. Could it be true? Yet it must, for why else would a cat save a corpse, especially if they hadn’t particularly liked its spirit? For a fleeting moment he wondered if the tom’s motives were entirely altruistic and he hoped to escape punishment as a reward for his actions, but he snorted at himself. Idiot. For whatever reason he risked his own life and didn’t leave you to burn.

“…thank you.” He managed to get out.

Oh. Right. He sighed. Does no one send me back to life just because they like me? Oh well. I suppose he’s right. It’s my duty to lead MeadowClan. I must use my life for justice as StarClan wished. “Yes. I will. I swear to you by…whatever you love most. I will do my duty…you must do yours.”

He gazed at his warrior curiously. “Only three times now. If you ask of my deaths.”

Speaking of which…he gazed at the blazing maw that consumed his camp. He longed to go back and search for survivors, but Elkstep had not saved him from the flames just so he could hurl himself back in. Reluctantly, he turned himself around and began padding heavily toward the knot of survivors he could see further down. “Come. Help me.” He ordered his warrior.

They had a Clan to take care of.

[Rolo]

]Hey peeps :D If you participated in this thread, you might be interested in the follow up thread 'Out of the Dust'.

All ongoing rp from this thread should be continued there :D I'm therefore locking this thread. If you have any questions, feel free to PM me.[/size