"When tomorrow... tomorrow comes today," Sunpaw hummed, bored out of his mind as he and the other metahuman walked down the street.
They were unable to find the other six cats, so they decided to search for Midnight themselves. Their trek soon brought them into a town, a medium sized one. But due to their size, it was practically a concrete jungle.
"Dude, I get it's your favourite band an' all, but shut up," David snapped, "I've heard more about gorillas in the past half hour since that fucking gorilla got shot,"
"Not my fault your music taste's shit," The Brit retorted.
"Hey, Emeniem's awesome," The ShadowClan cat defended.
"He's sounds the exact same as every other rapper," The gold cat stated in a matter-of-fact tone.
"Who names their band after fuckin' monkeys?" David challenged.
"Who names themselves after a packet of sweets?" Sunpaw leered, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
"Stop it, both your music tastes are bad," Smokepaw deadpanned, barging between them.
"Oh, so what do listen to then, Frenchie?" The ThunderClan apprentice asked, it was easy to see he was mildly offended by the older teen's comment.
Smokepaw then listed the artists he listened to; some where well known bands, like Imagine Dragons, but quite a few were unknown to the other two metahumans, either because they were French or just obscure.
"They must be shit 'cause I've never heard of any of them," David commented. Sunpaw nodded his head in agreement.
"I'm a guitarist in a band, I think I know what good music is," Smokepaw stated. The American and Briton exchanged a glance, already sick of the WindClan cat's pompous attitude.
"And? Do you want a medal?" The brown tabby asked, sarcasm dripping from each word.
"Stop it you three," Coldpaw sighed, "we need to find Midnight and the others,". Smokepaw, Sunpaw, and Sparkpaw ended their conversation and caught up with the Russian.
They continued the trek, passing by shops, takeaway places, and some older houses. Sunpaw acted almost like a tour guide, claiming that the place felt familiar to him. The young cat spoke with a tone of nostalgia and homesickness.
After passing a street named "Parks Avenue", Sunpaw realised where they were; his cousin's hometown. The other three were grateful, if Sunpaw knew where he was going then it made finding Midnight much easier.
"Aw mate, that's Alfie's Chippy; they have brilliant fish!" The Brit exclaimed, eyes glued to the deep fried fish in the window as he drooled. Memories of him and his cousin getting fish suppers between each other flooded back, causing him to sigh in longing.
Smokepaw shuddered in disgust looking at the greasy fast food like it was road kill, "how can you eat that? I feel my arteries clogging just loooking at it," he snorted.
"What? It's not like I have a chippy everyday," Sunpaw responded, "you're an arse about your music, don't start with your diet," he groaned.
"C'mon dude, it's not that bad," David chimed in, "looks pretty good," he commented, eyeing a king rib.
"So you know how many calories are in that?" Coldpaw asked, "you would have to do at least an hour of exercise to burn that off," he added, using the same tone as the Frenchman.
After a brief dispute, the continued onwards. The metahumans chatted as they walked, talking about whatever came to their minds; relationships, customs of their countries, and eventually their powers and how they discovered them.
"I almost got ran over," Smokepaw started, "I tried to run across the road, which was stupid of me; I lived in Paris," he sighed, "The road was clear, so I ran but I didn't see the bus coming around the corner," The metahuman grimaced at the memory,"I thought I was dead then I... just ended up where I started,"
"I had a really bad fever," Sunpaw remembered, "it was burning up really badly, then my hands felt really warm; I look down and my hands are actually on fire," he tried to suppress a small laugh, "accidentally set my top on fire too,"
David snorted, "I was in a fight, getting my ass handed to me," he had a look of strain, almost like he was struggling to remember, "can't remember who, but the guy said something and I got pissed off," he recited, "I punched him, then he started spazzing out on the ground, look at my hand; boom. It's electric,"
"I was maybe about thirteen-fourteen when I found out mine," Coldpaw muttered, "my babushka-"
"-Babushka?" The ThunderClan cat questioned, cocking his head slightly.
"It's Russian for grandmother," The grey tom explained before returning to his story, "she asked me to pour her a glass of vodka, so I went into the kitchen and went to pour it," he found himself lost in thought, "I think I saw it start to freeze and dropped it then caught it, and it was just covered in ice," he stated, "I dropped it again," Coldpaw chuckled, "my babushka was furious,"
"I can imagine, vodka reeks," Sunpaw commented.
The group had a round of small laughs, then continued on. They began to grow weary, the sun beginning to set as the yellow glow of streetlamps illuminated the pavement they treaded upon.
Despite their protests, Coldpaw urged them to continue onwards. They were looking for Midnight and the other cats. They sighed, but complied. The metahumans began growing weary, yawning as they padded along.
"Can we call it a night now, I'm exhausted!" David whined, his tail swishing back and fourth lazily.
Coldpaw shook his head, "We can't, we need to look-"
"-Enough's enough," Smokepaw interrupted, "Ivan, I know you just want to stop a disaster from happening, we all do, but we need rest," he rested his tail tip on the RiverClan cat's shoulder.
The larger grey tom scanned their tired faces, their eyes pleading for rest. He sighed, "Okay, let's find a place to sleep," he stated. They began a search for a place to spend the night, only to come up empty-pawed. Until David spotted a place to stay.
"Guys, I think I got a place," The brown tabby stated, looking down an alley.
The alley was dingy, dark, and reeked of vomit, urine, and whatever other foul substances were left discarded. The other three stared at him like he had a psychotic death wish.
"Are you mental? We'll get jumped if we go in there!" Sunpaw yowled in protest.
"David, does it look like I'm from Omsk?" Coldpaw questioned, a cold edge in his voice.
"I'm not going in there, I'll step on a syringe or something," Smokepaw spat.
"Guys we're fine," David reassured, "like, it's no biggie. There's houses on the other side, see?" he stated pointing through the alley. He was right, there was rows of roofs of houses on the other side, even though the were mostly obscured by the tall wooden fence. Luckily, there was a large dumpster that would allow them to climb over.
The three cats shared a side glance with one another, silently agreeing the tabby was dead if any trouble should arise. The took a step in the direction of the suspicious alley, then another.
Without even making it halfway, several cats appeared from the shadows. They were all decorated with scars, their fur missing tufts. Some had collars which were studded with what seemed to be teeth, haphazardly slotted through tears in their collars.
The three cats glared at David, ignoring the thuggish cats surrounding them. "We'll be fine," Sunpaw mimicked, "fucking twat,"
"Looks like we have fresh meat," A she-cat sneered, the obvious leader. She was skinny, with dark ginger fur and green eyes, a tooth studded collar adorned her neck.
"Look, we don't want-" Coldpaw started, trying to prevent a fight. Despite his fear, he acted as if he addressing hyper children, calm demeanour and all.
"-Oh aren't you just the edgiest little thing," David spat, "what's with the collar? Are you twelve or something?" he added, "lemme guess, you and your boy band here are called BloodClan too. Gimme a fuckin' break,"
Both groups stared slack jawed that the vulgar tabby, "David! Are you trying to get us killed?!" Smokepaw hissed, a wild fear in his amber eyes.
"You're dead meat," The she-cat growled, then turning to stalking towards the dumpster. The other alley cats unsheathed their claws, hissing and spitting. They began to close in, ready to tear them to shreds.
In response, the metahumans stepped back. Yet David stood his ground, his blue eyes showing no signs of intimidation or fear, only defiance. Without a word, the brown tabby tackled one of the alley cats.
"Did he just-" Sunpaw began to ask before being bowled over by one of the cats, the pair wrestled. The Brit's paws ignited, causing his assailant to gasp as a searing pain began to spread throughout his shoulders, "get off me, you bint!" He snapped, launching the cat off him using his hind legs.
Smokepaw sighed as one of the alley cats charged for him, only to crash through smoke and appear on the other side, coughing and hacking. The cat turned to him, surprise in her features.
"Are you blind?" The WindClan cat taunted. The she-cat charged at him, yowling curses as she again ran through smoke. The Frenchman reappeared, standing in the same spot and shaking his head.
The alley cat hissed, smouldering rage in her eyes. She darted towards him and let loose a war cry, only again to run through smoke and into a brick wall, leaving her unconscious. Smokepaw began to snicker, only to be tackled to the ground by another cat.
Coldpaw had been cornered by two smaller cats, who were coming in for quick swipes then retreating. One of them got too close and as a result, the Russian slammed his head into the concrete.
The other leapt for the grey tom, only to be bowled over by the larger cat. The wrestled on the ground, snarling and hissing. Coldpaw was victorious, yet blood dripped from his now nicked right ear.
Both groups continued their onslaught. The metahumans had been roughed up, with cuts and blood staining their fur. Yet they were holding on with an iron grip.
David muttered curses as he slammed the alley cat, who had tore deep into his shoulder, against the wall. "Where's that bitch?" he spat, scanning the alley. The tabby found her perched on the dumpster, green eyes boring into his soul.
He charged fourth, his paws cracklings with energy. The alley cat leader jumped onto him from the dumpster, aiming to crush him. The brown tabby dodged and bowled her over in retaliation, only to be thrown off soon after.
The two cats were evenly matched, both in their skill and the hatred for each other. Whatever they did, the other immediately retaliated. The opponents soon found themselves on their hind legs, wrestling for control.
Smokepaw paused for a second to watch, almost awestruck. He was watching as someone he had considered having a bark worse than his bite almost overpowering a gang leader. But the she-cat wasn't giving up either, despite electricity surging through her body and the immense pain she must be in, she wasn't letting go. Or perhaps she couldn't.
The WindClan cat soon realised that if they didn't end their fight quickly David would be attacked, maybe even killed, by another alley cat. He had to do something, and fast. He then noticed his front paws were partially enveloped in smoke.
Smokepaw then raise one of them, mesmerised as the smoke trailed from them. Suddenly, a yowl sounded from behind him. Instinctively, he turned and swiped at the cat getting ready to leap at him even though there was distance between them.
The cat was knocked backwards as what seemed to be a bullet of smoke slammed into him. The grey tom just stared at his paw, then back up at the cat, then back at his paw. An epiphany struck him, turning round and firing another projectile at the alley cat leader.
David noticed as the smoke ripped through the air. He shoved the dark ginger she-cat into the projectile's path, watching as it slammed into the side of her head and forced her crash into the concrete, leaving her unconscious.
Almost instantly, the fighting ceased. The alley cats stared in shock at their leader's unconscious body. He fired a bolt of electricity at the concrete where they stood; a warning shot.
"Scram!" He hissed. They did just that, yowling about him being a freak. The metahumans stood breathless, until Coldpaw marched up to David, smacking him across the face.
"Ow! What the-"
"What the fuck were you thinking?" The Russian growled.
"Hey! I know their type; they weren't gonna let us go!" The ShadowClan cat protested. Yet his words fell on deaf ears.
"Look at my ear!" Coldpaw yowled, referring to his bleeding, nicked ear, "look at it! This is your fault!"
"Mate, look calm-" Sunpaw attempted to defuse the situation.
"-Calm down? We almost died because of him!" The RiverClan cat spat, causing the Brit to jump back.
The grey tom turned back to David, "remember what I said about starting another fight?"
The ShadowClan cat nodded, yet he held his ground, "I ain't leaving," he said simply.
"You can stay in this alley for all I care," Coldpaw spat, barging past the teen and causing him to stumble, "you're on your own,". The ThunderClan and WindClan apprentices reluctantly followed him, not saying a word to the American. They leaped onto the dumpster and over the wooden fence.
Sunpaw was the last to land on the other side, greeted by the sight of modern British houses. He waited for David to jump over the fence, grumbling to himself. Yet he never did.
Smokepaw noticed that the gold tom hadn't moved, "Evan, are you coming?" he called.
The apprentice sighed, "coming." he stated simply, padding after the other two metahumans. He had gotten off lightly compared to his friends; Smokepaw was covered in small cuts, Ivan was covered in gashes and his ear had been nicked badly, David had some wounds that would form scars. All he had was a few small cuts and bruises.
The tom sighed to himself, this shouldn't have happened.