& More Fuel on the Fire ~

[Rebecca]

He wasn't quite sure what he was exactly doing here, only that his feet and decided to take him here, and that what was going on was interesting. Littlestorm sat a little ways out of the heart of the conflict, listening to some high and mighty she-cat babble about unity and all that was warm and fuzzy about a Clan, a tom cat momentarily attack her for babbling, and then an onslaught of other cats coming to her rescue. He had forgotten how intense these... uh, things were. Come to think of it, what was he listening in to exactly? Some sort of meeting that had to do with all the recent drama? More or less likely, he supposed.

He strained to listen a little bit more closely and caught tid-bits of the she-cat's platform on Clans and why everyone should be included in it and all the usual Clanner banter that was used to persuade cats to accept the Clan cause. The small tom sighed quietly as he listened to her, beginning to like what he heard. If anything, strength did indeed come from unity. A one-man team was barely enough to fight a rat attack and live, let alone have a happy life in the forsaken Enclosure. Yes, a Clan was what was needed.

Littlestorm looked around at the other scattered listeners and stood up, taking the time to lick a few obvious pieces of dirt off of his gray and white pelt. Once he found his appearance satisfactory, the small tom began walking towards the throng of cats.

"No miss, we are not like them because we are stuck in the Enclosure and we know better. That is obvious. We are not obedient, thoughtless, gullible, or stupid because if we were, we would have never survived for so long. But becoming individuals instead of a staying whole was, in my opinion, an idiotic idea. There's power in numbers, and with power over the Enclosure comes a small amount of safety. Granted, it would be meager, but safety is safety and in time it could grow to be something worth being a part of." He meowed, having to look up in order to address Woodstripe.

Littlestorm's eyes flickered from one cat to the next. How troublesome. They were all taller than him.

[Ten]

ooc: Okay you guys. I just got this cool new toy, a character table, and I'm sorry if I seem frilly for using it, but I think it's purdy. bic: Woodstripe beamed -- showing evident pleasure at being addressed as miss, as if it were a title of honor -- but also because she had received just the kind of answer she had wanted to hear. "I could not have said it better myself. Thank you for coming forward, Littlestorm." After a tranquil pause, during which her eyes swept over the full extent of the enclosure, she selected a phrase from his answer and echoed it: "Power in numbers." She was nodding her broad head as she spoke the words, soft but solemn and stern, as if there were power in the words too, power that was reverberating within each one of her listener's hearts. Surely such a deep and meaningful phrase, such a concise slogan for her argument, could not fall on deaf ears. That is, not unless Frozenheart was around. She did not see him among her audience. It would have been nice to have her own brother's support, but perhaps this was for the better. If he were here, he might only serve to be an obstacle, and she'd already had her share of those, what with that brown tabby tom and his aggressive complaints. The brown tabby she-cat, on the other hand, was making a decided effort to conduct herself in a dignified manner no matter what Tawnystripe may do. Head held high, she stood up taller on her rock, reassuming a louder voice. "Are we like our ancestors? No! We are not like our ancestors! We are strong! We are wise! We will never become like them! Never fear, our Clan will not be as the Clan of our ancestors. That is not our only option. What we face at this hour is not simply a choice between the way things are and the way things once were. There is another way!" Here she paused, waiting, expecting, hoping for some form of response from her audience. If not cheers, then at least murmurs of agreement. She wasn't picky in how the loyal Clanners expressed their support. Nor would she be ungrateful to receive a non-negative response from the cons, even if that only meant raised eyebrows and mild surprise. When the moment subsided, she moved on to another aspect of the topic. "Remember why the old leader and deputy betrayed us. They loved each other more than they respected the Clan's traditions. At that time, tradition dictated that cats in certain positions of power must not mate." This was common knowledge, but it was a lead-in to her next point. "Do we have those same traditions now? No! They are needless; they are gone. The root of the problem with leadership has died and withered away." That might be a controversial thing to say, but Woodstripe could not fathom any objections to the assertion after the evidence she had just presented. "Now, in current days, what would any cat gain from leading a Clan but the simple pleasure of helping other cats? I ask you, cats of the enclosure, is that wrong?" speaking [bg=8e8f63][atrb=width,469,true] [atrb=border,0,true]

[duckyaisha]

Patchfur didn't want another confrontation with Woodstripe. He had wanted to converse with the other cat, the tom, to try and see which side of the stream he fell on in regards to the Clan and leadership issue, but Woodstripe was already trying to convert him.

Of course, the power-hungry she-cat would stop at nothing to obtain the "leadership" she so craved. He hadn't wanted to butt in at first, though. Arguments were exhausting and pointless and he hadn't yet eaten today. The tom had fallen on lean times and didn't have the energy to get riled up about a debate that was never truly won. Though he liked to think he had the upper paw, in truth neither did. Sure, Woodstripe had more followers, but she was suspiciously good at preying upon the fears and worries of cats in the Enclosure.

She promised safety and security, peace, and enough food for everyone. What cat in this horrid place hadn't entertained the notion of a world like that once or twice? But a notion was all it was, all it ever could be. The creation of a Clan and election of a leader wouldn't immediately vanquish these problems, and possibly escalate them. But who would choose to see reason and look at it objectively and skeptically when they could believe in the possibility of a perfect world?

As he was ruminating on these thoughts, he heard her distinctive voice issue a phrase that made his fur stand on end and his ears flatten against the back of his head, as if trying to protect themselves from such a blatant lie.

"What was that?" he asked in a tone dangerously cold. Despite being smaller than the she-cat, he stalked toward her as if he was twice her size.

"The root of the problem with leadership is not as simple as two cats deciding to abandon their clanmates because of some old traditions. It's that they managed to trap them here in the first place. The leader and deputy had such complete control over the Clan that when they told them to build this enclosure, they did it without question. We may not be so gullible or weak, but surely that's what their ancestors thought when this system was being created. By creating the position of a leader, you give one cat near-absolute power over the others. And in a situation like this, where our food and safety and hope is meager, these cats will turn to anyone who promises them a better life. A leader has only to say the magic words- food, or safety, or peace- and the cats will follow them blindly.

What problems, Woodstripe, do you think having a leader could solve? And what would make them qualified enough to be able to solve said problems, or give them the ability to do so?"

It was easier to get into arguments than to stay out of them, he realized. And like the enclosure itself, once you were trapped in one there was no escape, at least until someone was proved wrong. In fact, he himself had been locked in a debate with Woodstripe for ages. Although they hadn't always been slicing each other open with their words, she had always been somewhere in the back of his mind. Even if her plan to become leader never got off the ground, she would always have some increment of control over his mind.

[Darky [Megan]]

ooc
Purdy little table you have there, Ten! =o

bic
Orangestorm was sizing up Drabheart, certain that he had seen the tom around before. He was sure they had never had a conversation but the voice was familiar. Could it be he had been a participant of the Rebellion? Well whoever he was, he had stated he was a con and that was invitation enough. "Hello," he greeted, in that grunty voice of his. "Couldn't 'elp but 'ear you were a con as well, and I'm not sure if it's just me but you seem familiar somehow. 'Ave you 'eard of the Rebellion?"

He wasn't really listening to Woodstripe. He wanted to pay more attention to the crowd - his goal here was to recruit for the Rebellion and ultimately disrupt the Clannerly gathering once there were enough Anti-clanners to not be outnumbered. Then he noted, much to his satisfaction, that Patchfur had showed up, and was already trying to talk down Woodstripe as he had done so many times before. Patchfur was a cat that had proved a match for Woodstripe time and time again - he made valid points and was set in his views and could talk as much as Woodstripe could. Orangestorm never much liked talking.

Speckledclaw gave hearty nods of approval as Woodstripe spoke. although she couldn't see much point in her trying to convince the noisy tom that had been yowling his paws off before. She'd rather not have a cat like that in a Clan of hers anyway - he was a troublemaker and would only aid in causing disarray, judging from his violent and uncouth manner. It didn't matter if you were a Clanner or non-Clanner if you had a rotten personality. Speckledclaw gave her pelt a shake. She was feeling as thrilled as Woodstripe seemed to be sounding at the arrival of the many pro-Clan cats that were showing up. These were her potential Clanmates, as long as they could get this off the ground and had enough people. Being in an actual Clan would be a tremendous and fantastic thing. Speckledclaw, in spite of her self, couldn't help cracking the faintest hint of a lop-sided sneer smile and swiveling her head left and right to look around.

Who was that orange tom? He was very familiar to her, probably a frequent participant in the many debates that had taken place and a formidable voice for the cons. She frowned as he opened his mouth to talk."You've said yerself that we are not as gullible or weak as our ancestors had been, so what point are you trying to prove here? Not every cat is as blind a follower as you are making them out to be - there will be cats who can logic'ly question the credibility of the promise of food, safety and hope, and inside a Clan we will work to help each other out with such problems. Moral support, for example - in't that a key ingredient to hope?"

[duckyaisha]

"It's true that we're stronger in body and mind than they were," Patchfur conceded, "but what I'm saying is surely /their/ ancestors said the same thing. If we rely on a leader to make our decisions, soon we won't be able to think for ourselves. Maybe not this generation or the next, but somewhere down the line our descendants will begin to develop blind trust if the Clan system works out. Once that happens, all it takes is one smooth talked with a plan and he or she could do whatever they wanted with the cats of the Clan." Patchfur instinctively replied to the she-cat's familiar voice before looking back at her to check who had spoken. Something about her stance and facial expression made her look slightly dangerous, as if she knew how to fight and wasn't afraid to resort to such measures. Those cats were often troublesome. They start off with a verbal attack and if that gets shot down they rely on their claws and teeth to prove their point. He would've liked to step back from her, but then she'd know that she intimidated him. Instead, he paused for a few heartbeats to gather his thought and began to speak once more
"What makes you think you'll be working together?" he asked, pacing and lashing his tail. "The point of a leader is to make decisions for the Clan. Sure, they might ask your opinion, but in the end, the leader gets what they want. While a Clan may make it easier for cats to hunt and fight together, it also increases the possibility of violence with so many cats living together. Would the leader be able to control that? Should they be able to? If a leader has the power to forcefully end long-lasting rivalries, effectively controlling cats that are involved, what other things could they do with this control?"

[Cloud]

DRABHEART

He was glad Tawnystripe had taken his advice, and gave him an approving nod. Certainly, he seemed like a strong, outspoken tom. "Thank you. I know it's hard to listen to such idiocy and not retaliate. But our day will come, and I know you are a good fighter."

The gray-brown tabby then raised his voice and replied to Littlestorm, Woodstripe, and Patchfur.

"Power in numbers, Littlestorm? Perhaps, but also danger. Who's to say we wouldn't all turn on each other when things got hard? Who's to say ambitious -" Here he looked at Woodstripe. "-cats wouldn't just use their followers to bully the rest of us into submission?"

He snorted at the brown tabby. "Strong? Wise? You make us out to be far better than we are, Woodstripe. We are ordinary cats, and we have all the same flaws and weaknesses that our lizardbrained ancestors did. Some of us have more sense, however. HA! You expect me to believe your lies about 'the simple pleasure of helping another cat' is the basis of leadership? Wouldn't you enjoy the power that came with it, eh?"

He beamed at the orange-and-white tom. "Exactly. Brainwashing, plain and simple. That's all a Clan is."

He was surprised as an orange tom greeted him cordially. "Oh! Hello. Nice to meet you. Yes, I have. I joined, actually. But I haven't seem Beetlepaw around lately. And you are...?"

DOTTEDFOOT

She'd finally made her way to the crowd (stone this leg!) and was horrified at the amount of dissent against Woodstripe. "You fools!" She cried at all the cons. "Can't you see? This is the greatest good we will ever have in our lifetimes! The chance to live protected and nourished! As Speckledclaw says, we are intelligent enough not to be brainwashed -" She spat, staring furiously at her younger sibling. "-but are smart enough to know when there is someone who can unite us into something greater than we are. A Clan. The time is now, cats of the Enclosure; let us listen to Woodstripe and trust in her sound judgment."

She looked at Patchfur in disbelief. She had thought he was a sensible tom.

"Hardly, Patchfur! If anything we would become more enlightened, with a cat of wisdom and strength to help guide us. I hardly think someone like you would ever bow to that, would you? All of you outspoken cons, you would never be blind and deaf. In fact, you could be our greatest strength! You evidently have strong personalities. Why not put them to use for a greater cause, where you would not be servants, but masters of your own destinies?"

The gray and white she-cat was very pleased with herself and her speech, and looked at Woodstripe with pride and satisfaction, smelling the sure scent of victory in the air.

DARKFUR

He wasn't going to participate, oh no. That was for the little ants and scorpions, the insects and the ones who snapped at them.

The dark brown con was very pleased with this. It was if Woodstripe had heard his wishes and obeyed. Divide them further, stir them up, get them fighting. And when finally they turned on each other with claws and fangs, go forth and suggest peace. They would hate that - but as the fought further, weakening each other, slip among them, assure both sides they are right. Whisper promises of glory in their ears, get their blood boiling.

And when at last many are dead, and the few that remain do not know where to turn, you will be their savior. Not their leader, no - but someone who can help them back to life, so they can fight once more. That was the way of things. That was how it would always be.

[Rebecca]

Littlestorm blinked at Woodstripe's next speech and nodded in agreement to her words. Yes, everything that she said made sense to him. A Clan was needed, and the notion that a Clan was needed for survival was planted firmly in his mind. But the large amounts of resentment and protests that it received were not. He suddenly felt very threatened; not physically threatened of course, but because his ideals had been questioned and shot down by many other cats, most of which he didn't even know yet. He frowned, his eyes narrowed as the other cats decided to shoot down an idea that could very well ensure the survival of them and their offspring for years to come.

"Yes, power in numbers. In such a hostile environment that is the only safety you could every hope to obtain. And furthermore, since we have gone through this once before and realize the certain dangers of having a leader and deputy, do you not think that we will be in intelligent to be on our toes and watch them carefully? Obviously none of us want to repeat such horrid past mistakes, but I doubt that something of that magnitude could happen again. After all, we are all stuck in this dam enclosure. None of us can be afford to be stupid here, especially with leadership and such a large change if this were to ever occur. We must also think of the future. Eventually we will all grow old and crippled and will be at a point where we will be too weak to fend for ourselves. What will you do the, lay down and let the rats eat your living corpse? A Clan can stop that, you know. A Clan will look after its own."

Littlestorm meowed, trying to respond to a majority of the attacks that were being pressed against his beliefs. He wasn't sure if they would even make a dent in the debate and doubted that they would, as he had never been one for arguments. He didn't like it when others didn't agree with him, but he hated it when they disagreed in such a disagreeable manner.

[Ten]

Oh, Patchfur. That one little half-hearted Clanner who always seemed more furious with her than she was with him. He was, if nothing else, a peculiar case. The tom agreed with her on most things, but he ignored the progress they could make together, instead choosing to focus on a single point of disagreement, convinced that she was nothing but a crafty, silver-tongued, power-mad boss. Nothing (or almost nothing) could be further from the truth, as she'd assured him time and time again, and another attempt did not appear to have hopeful prospects. So instead of once again devoting her energy toward soothing his fears and engaging in this endless two-cat joust with him, Woodstripe decided the best course of action would be to focus on the majority of the cats present, the ones who held clear and conventional stances. Some of these cats were full cons who did not want a leader, but for them, a Clan and a leader were a single package. Convincing them to buy one would bring along the other in a package deal. This was her assumption, at least. "To this day," she meowed, speaking to the other cats and not Patchfur, "I am still at a loss as to what Patchfur fears about cats with power, besides the very fact that they are cats with power. What does he fear a leader will do to us? Ask us to build another enclosure within the enclosure?" She chuckled. "Now, in all seriousness, Dottedfoot and Speckledclaw make excellent points, and as Littlestorm says, a Clan will look after its own." She nodded her encouragement to them, standing up on the ledge and looking down like a mighty judge from upon high. "As much as your opinions on the general domain of Clanhood are of great interest to me, allow us to re-examine the subject at paw. Suppose, as our dear friend Patchfur warns us might occur, a leader takes power, convincing the Clan of his own greatness and taking them in with the allure of a better life." Woodstripe saw no inherent problem with the scenario -- there was nothing wrong with filling the hearts of one's followers with hope and respect -- but she treated the matter with seriousness. "In any configuration of the hierarchy I have ever heard of, there are always fewer authorities than there are other Clanmates, so it would be no easy task to convince the Clan to do what it does not want to do, while at the same time, it would indeed be an easy task for the Clan to force the authorities to step down. However, do leave that for another discussion; as I reminded you before, the leader and deputy of RiverClan betrayed our ancestors for one reason: RiverClan traditions forbade their love. There are no such rules in the modern world, and so I ask you think long and hard on the following inquiry. What could be a possible motive for abuse of power, whatever you imagine that might entail, for a leader of our own time?" speaking [bg=8e8f63][atrb=width,469,true] [atrb=border,0,true]

[f i x a t e]

L I C H E N F U R ~

[/font]
Sorry, didn't they tell you? I don't come with a warning label.[/color][/right]The she-cat's green eyes glinted with anger as she listened to Woodstripe's speech. Her ears flicked back at the mention of the phrase "power in numbers", but she stayed silent for now. There were several Cons that were anxious to get their opinions out, so Lichenfur just sat back and watched in amusement. What did they need "power" for? They seemed to be getting along just fine on their own. Sure, there was a violence here and there, but Lichenfur felt that it made them stronger.

As Woodstripe addressed Patchfur's statement, questioning what he feared about cats with power, Lichenfur's tail lashed furiously. Especially when she made a joke of it, about building another enclosure. Lichenfur would hold her tounge no more. Lichenfur's icy-calm voice rose above the quiet chatter. "Why should one cat be above another? Every cat should be responsible for themselves; they shouldn't have to worry about taking care of others." She did not spit the words at the cat as she wished, but rather challenged her with a hostile glare. She calmed her tail, only allowing the end to twitch, as if she were only slightly annoyed. She wouldn't let on how much this whole discussion angered her.

Lichenfur was indeed a very selfish cat, only worried about herself, and her view may have been different if she were a crippled elder. Reality was, she was a healthy she-cat fully capable of taking care of herself. She didn't have to worry about anybody else, and didn't want to. Lichenfur didn't want to be told to go out and hunt, and then have her food to to another cat. They could catch their own dang food. That wasn't the main thing that bothered her though; she did not want to be ordered around by another cat who "outranked" her. Without a clan, they were all equals. If a clan were to form, though, there would be others deemed better than her, and Lichenfur did not like that one bit. Her fur bristled at the thought.
[/blockquote][/blockquote]

[Cloud]

DRABHEART

Oh, great. Things were going all right (he was still intrigued by the orange tom) and then SHE had to show up. His annoying, old, lizardbrained half-sister. Well, if she got too annoying...no, he didn't want to injure anyone, not even her. The tabby sighed, shuffling his paws in the gravel as the dim flecks light played over the little gathering, illuminating the good, bad, and ugly.

He returned her orange stare with his own resolute green-eyed gaze, sniffing dismissively at her old scent. The con was familiar with her arguments - they were his father's in almost exact detail, though he remembered from their first brief, painful meeting that it was their mother who connected them (unfortunately) by blood.

Once he would have agreed with her - now he pitied her.

"What good, sister? You would have me believe there is power in order? Nonsense. There is no power in order because no one is completely trustworthy, even the ones we think we know. And we will only join you in death, where we are all equal, and Woodstripe's 'sound judgment' is roughly equivalent to me reasoning that because I can breathe I have magical powers." He said this in a calm, cool voice, but let a snort escape him at his last words.

Then he looked at Littlestorm and laughed gently at the little tom. "Plenty of us can obviously afford to be stupid here! We do it all the time! Every single one of us makes mistakes every day, because we're all only cats! Ergo, none of us has the ability or right to direct and manipulate others. And yes, I agree, we should take care of one another, but that's what good families and friends are for." The gray-brown tabby shot a sly glance at his older sister. "And since dealing with one's relatives can be trying enough, why need we all have to worry about everyone else, too?"

Drabheart looked up at Woodstripe and raised his eyebrows in a disdainful expression. "I doubt Patchfur fears cats in power so much that he realizes that it would be idiotic to give anyone any amount of power. An amusing thought, but though I cannot speak for him I myself simply dislike the idea of a leader because as I've stated, what's the point? No one will ever always like or respect the leader, and they won't always be right, so don't take the risk and then have to kill or revolt against them when it goes wrong."

Drabheart paused to catch his breath; he was getting thirsty. It was rare that he talked so much, but he enjoyed it, even if it was a bit tiring.

In a slightly cracked voice, he continued.

"Ha! A Clan would look after Clanners. Even if for some stupid reason we decided to change our beliefs and follow you like sheep, I have no doubt we would be treated as lesser beings."

He snorted once more at her sweet, stupid words. "Oh, I have no idea. Maybe they just like boring us all to death with their overly flowery speeches. Or they love being in control. Sound familiar, Woodstripe?"

Drabheart looked at the silver tabby, interested. She was evidently a con, but she was wrong in that they shouldn't worry about taking care of others. They should, but a Clan wasn't the answer.

"I must disagree. While no cat should be above another, of course, we should take care of those closest to us. And if someone we don't know needs our help, but fairly rewards us for it, there is no reason we should not assist them. Just because a Clan isn't the right answer doesn't mean there shouldn't be friendship and kindness. But those things mean more if we do them of our own free will, when we want to."

DOTTEDFOOT

Oh, him! He could get under her fur like no one else. If only her sister was still alive, instead of this useless con!

Nightfur...it had been many seasons since she'd died, but Dottedfoot still remembered the rats...her broken leg...the illness. Dragging the emaciated corpse to the boneyard. Watching, waiting, transfixed, as she decayed, so slowly...

She shook herself out of the sorrow-filled memories and her anger and bitterness put new strength into her frail limbs and her old voice.

"Plenty of good for those who aren't too dirtbrained to see it, brother!" She spat. "But you wouldn't know, you traitor." Oh, if only she could fight him, here and now!

Another tabby, who looked a bit like her brother, appeared in the edge of her vision, and she smelled him, but the old Clanner barely paid him any mind.

She nodded furiously at Littlestorm's words. "Exactly! Exactly! We could ascend to our greatest potential! We've learned, now let us act! Let us all band together and put aside petty differences and doubts to usher in a new way of life!" Ah, if only she were young again! She would stand right behind Woodstripe, she could be deputy herself...if only.

Oh, she gave up listening to Drabheart's horrid words. It was too infuriating, and she'd only want to snap his neck if she paid attention.

DARKFUR

Hmm, he liked the silver tabby. She didn't talk too much like Woodstripe and the others, and she seemed tough. Smoothly he padded out of the shadows and sat beside her - close, but close enough to touch. "Forgive my intrusion, miss, but I can't help but think you're right. Superiority is a useless concept, so easily broken. I prefer...cooperation."