Post by Fawn on Sept 26, 2020 11:07:21 GMT -5
NAME
DarkstoneAGE
64 moonsGENDER
TomCLAN
TreeClanRANK
Senior WarriorSecond Image
Photos copyright Priscilla Du Preez @unsplash
DESCRIPTION
A large dark tabby with green eyes and a tattered right ear. There is little more complex about him than that; his coat is short and the tabby stripes are distinct, though they lighten a little around his muzzle and eyes. His head is broad, matching a large frame and sturdy paws. His tail is comparatively short, but still functions as a stabilizing tool for balance.
Darkstone's demeanor says more than just 'dark tabby'; maybe it's the coloration, maybe it's his large frame, or maybe it's the brief moons in his apprenticeship that he bullied a denmate, but Darkstone cuts an imposing figure. Light scars can be found lurking beneath his fur, flashes of them seen when he takes a moment to groom himself.
The tattered ear promotes his prestige as a fighter, the appendage completely crumpled flat in a way that no amount of herbs could possibly help. Darkstone doesn't mind it, though; he maintains a tidy appearance but appearance carries very little weight for him. That may change if he one day gets a particularly ugly scar or (StarClan forbid) a more obvious injury, but for now, he presents a stern, almost foreboding presence that can often cause the wrong idea or change the mood when he walks into a room.
Those who take the time to get to know Darkstone will see that he is more than just intimidation and a tough past.
SUMMARY
Large dark tabby with a damaged right ear and green eyes.PERSONALITY
+Protective, ride-or-die, devoted, humble, prefers routine, rational
Darkstone is the feline equivalent of a military man. He is used to routine and thrives on it, and approaches most problems with a rational mindset. His emotions are by no means tamped down (especially if Shrikesong is involved), but even at his most expressive, there’s a sense of reservation.
Highly protective and deeply devoted to his family, he is very much the type to die if it would spare his loved ones any pain. It’s not some big showy display of affection or martyrdom, but instead the bone-deep belief that once committed to someone, giving anything less than his all would be disgraceful. He would go to the ends of the earth for Shrikesong
A humble warrior, father and mate, Darkstone may not seem the easiest cat to approach (he has something of a stern demeanor), a few conversations with him reveals he lacks the arrogance and braggadocio of so many of his peers. Darkstone is good at risk assessment, a calm voice of reason in a sea of emphatic speakers. He prefers to keep his mouth shut rather than say something pointless or clumsy.
-Pessimistic/Cautious, Aggressive, Brooding, bad-at-public-speaking
Darkstone’s ability to assess risks errs on the extreme side of caution. He is reticent to act without thinking, very much the type to develop a plan of attack and then take action. Naturally pessimistic, he struggles to show patience in times of high stress or danger, preferring to dive in and take care of the problem before the problem gets any bigger. Others would call this hasty or aggressive, Darkstone calls it efficient.
The default stern expression on Darkstone’s face is fitting in most instances. He is known to brood, both thinking hard on the past and trying to calculate a plan to counter future events. Stagnation makes him very, very uncomfortable. The wait and see approach isn’t for him. Retreating into himself is something that he still struggles with even to this day; though he’ll probably never again turn into that isolated little apprentice drowning in his own headspace, he usually needs Shrikesong or a close friend to snap him out a milder version of that.
Darkstone is almost comically bad at public speaking. Authority figures putting him on the spot is daunting but usually something he can handle; pleasantries at a gathering, however, make him want to crawl out of his own skin from discomfort. Idle chatter doesn’t come easy to him, unless he’s speaking to someone he has already established a trusting, companionable relationship with.
He can come off as gruff or even dim-witted based on his curt, awkward answers. But Darkstone is surely neither, as anyone that takes the time to get to know him can attest.
HISTORY
The Scandal
It started with a scandal. Stormtalon and Briarpelt were upstanding Clan members. A little strict and difficult to please in the way that some parents can be, but any unkindness they showed their children was meant to improve them, not simply cause harm.
Stormtalon and Briarpelt had two children, one tom called Sablepaw and one she-cat called Sweetpaw. Sablepaw was as taciturn and humorless as his father, Stormtalon, while Sweetpaw was lively and outspoken. While Sweetpaw pursued anything that caught her attention, Sablepaw took a more roundabout approach, preferring to wait for opportunities to seize rather than create openings for himself.
Stormtalon and Briarpelt were proud of both children, expecting great things from them. But it would be a lie to say that they loved them equally: Sablepaw never quite measured up to his parents' lofty ideals, but Sweetpaw, with her charisma and her ambition, was obviously their pride and joy.
For a while.
Sablepaw and Sweetpaw sailed through their apprenticeships, becoming warriors at the same time (was it just his imagination or had his parents cheered louder for Sweetpaw?) and embarking on the next stage of their lives: apprentices of their own.
Sweetblossom became increasingly busy, and Stormtalon and Briarpelt fully encouraged this. But Sableclaw, ever the observant, practical one, took notice of things that his parents did not.
Sweetblossom was busy, yes. But she never seemed to be where he expected. When he implored Fernpaw for details, Sweetblossom's apprentice had simply shrugged and said that Sweetblossom had something to attend to.
The truth was revealed a mere two days after Fernpaw's warrior ceremony, and Sweetblossom was freed of her mentorly obligation.
"How dare you!" Stormtalon had snarled, so close to his daughter's face that she should have flinched. "A StoneClan tom? You're throwing away our legacy, my legacy for some half-breed kits on the other side of the valley?"
"Yes," said Sweetblossom, and it was obvious to her shocked, infuriated family that her mind had been made up for quite some time. They looked on with dark faces as Sweetblossom took her walk of shame from TreeClan's camp, spurred faster by Lionstar's heavy frown and the growing whispers of her Clanmates.
It was the time of Hawkstar's reign, when a place within StoneClan could be earned through hard work, honesty, and no small amount of patience.
Sableclaw's life went on, and it was as if Sweetblossom had never existed. Stormtalon and Briarpelt poured their remaining energies into their son, to the point where they dictated nearly every major decision of his life. Sableclaw seemed to harden, any true softness and empathy lost, his temperament calcifying like a broken bone left unset.
The usual milestones of a Clan cat's life followed: greencough took Briarpelt, leaving behind Stormtalon and Sableclaw. Sableclaw took for himself a mate, Willowlight, a proper she-cat for whom the proud legacy of his family was appealing. Starting a family of their own proved difficult; the first litter did not survive to term, and Sableclaw suffered under the beratement of Stormtalon, as if the unpredictable whims of fate were something he could somehow control.
Late into their middle moons, a single kit was born. It was a tom, tiny as all kits were; his dark pelt plastered so tight to his body and still wet from birth that he resembled a polished stone. It was into this single offspring that they poured all their hopes, their fears, their expectations. The overbearing presence of the now elderly Stormtalon loomed like a shadow. Still very much the patriarch of the family, his input into the kit's future was taken as gospel.
The kit was christened Dark-kit, and his life of hardship and perseverance began.The Upbringing
To say he had an upbringing was to imply that his parents had 'brought him up', elevated him into a position of success. Instead, Sableclaw and Willowlight brought him down, putting pressure on his shoulders from three moons onwards to prove his legacy. To prove he was destined for incredible things when so many others had failed.
Dark-kit was frequently shuttled between the nursery and the elder's den, forced to listen to the chilly diatribes of his grandfather, Stormtalon. Occasionally the name Sweetblossom would drift into one of the elder's rants, but Dark-kit had made the mistake of asking about her once and only once.
Sableclaw took him aside and eventually shed some light on the subject.
"Sweetblossom is a disgrace to our Clan and our family name." Sableclaw said it so matter-of-factly, there was no room for arguing. "You cannot follow in her footsteps, Dark-kit, there is too much at stake. When a cat dies, all they have is a legacy to carry on their name. That is why Stormtalon is so hard on you. That is why I expect so much from you. Do you understand?"
"Yes, father." Dark-kit had said in a small voice, not really understanding. Three moons was too soon to be speaking of death and legacy and fulfilling one's filial obligations; but this was not the type of family to consider one's individual feelings.
Dark-kit played with his nursery mates, but he did not have the luxury of a blissful, ignorant kithood. His apprentice ceremony arrived and brought with it a peculiar sense of dread, the fear of disappointing his kin so strong it should have tied his tail into a knot. Lionstar granted Darkpaw mercy in his mentor, though; Swandive may have had her grievances with certain members of the Clan, but she was patient and forthright with him.
Sableclaw and Stormtalon argued on Darkpaw's behalf that he needed a stricter mentor, someone like Blackwater who understood the importance of pushing Darkpaw to greater heights. Lionstar was resolute, his opinion as unshifting as the Great Maple itself. Stormtalon left the Ancient Stump with fury in his eyes, and Sableclaw followed, casting a hollow, disapproving look at Darkpaw as if it were somehow his fault.
Darkpaw shrank into himself, feeling the weight of their stares no matter where he went or what he did. Denmates by the name of Jaypaw and Ashpaw became his first real friends, and it was likely the other toms' presence that kept him from withdrawing into himself so deeply. Darkpaw, Ashpaw and Jaypaw were joined by Shrikepaw and Badgerpaw a moon later. Shrikepaw was easily the prettiest cat Darkpaw had ever laid eyes on. As much as he wanted to, Darkpaw couldn't muster the words he needed to carry on a conversation.
Badgerpaw on the other hand...
He hadn't intended to get so carried away. Darkpaw watched Badgerpaw fail spectacularly during a hunting trip, and the hurtful words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. "You're so weak, Badgerpaw. You're never going to amount to anything if all you do is fail!"
Ashpaw and Jaypaw had snickered then, and for the first time in as far back as Darkpaw could remember, he felt good. Picking on Badgerpaw became a routine, and he found that his words were harsher, more mocking if he had encountered Stormtalon or Sableclaw earlier in the day.
It was cruel to tease Badgerpaw so heavily. In his heart of hearts, he knew it. The chance to talk to Shrikepaw, to get to know her, slipped like water through his claws every time another barb fell from his tongue. Perhaps most baffling was that Badgerpaw did not argue back. It was as if Badgerpaw knew he needed an outlet, and for reasons beyond Darkpaw's comprehension, the weaker, smaller tom took whatever verbal punishment he doled out.The Wound
Sableclaw fell in battle against NightClan. Stormtalon was beside himself; Darkpaw had watched as Stormtalon refused to bury his son, instead wanting to tear across the border and punish those that had damaged his precious legacy. Only the stern words of Lionstar and the Clan's other senior members calmed Stormtalon's fury.
The following days were somber and quiet. While Willowlight grieved, Darkpaw clung to a few forbidden thoughts. With Sableclaw dead, that was one less cat who was constantly pushing him to be amazing, one less cat to criticize his mistakes or interrogate his mentor on how he was doing.
But Darkpaw was wrong.
Willowlight was somehow worse than Stormtalon and Sableclaw combined; she knew how to motivate him with love, with grief, with guilt and with fear. "If you do not get stronger, you will end up dead like your father." She had said as she pushed her groggy son into the training area in the dead of night. It was exhausting, and while Stormtalon became a silent, simmering fury, Willowlight became militant and manipulative.
Darkpaw lashed out at Badgerpaw, desperate for a reprieve from the nightmare his mother had become. Finally, Shrikepaw lashed back. Darkpaw could recall the shock days later as her claws cut through his ear and he felt blood trickle down the side of his face. The pain was so sudden that he stared at her, the beautiful she-cat who could tolerate his bullying no longer. Darkpaw tasted blood on his tongue and felt her words pierce his heart.
Getting hit by a denmate shouldn't have been a pivotal moment, but in a way... it was.
Shrikepaw had fought back. He was bigger and stronger than her, and the seasons of tough tutelage had hardened him in a way none of the other apprentices could relate to. But that didn't matter. Shrikepaw's blue eyes had burned into him like a flame, and he'd walked away from that encounter branded.
A wordless agreement not to speak of what happened in the apprentices' den kept any adults from getting involved. Darkpaw did not tease Badgerpaw again.
Shrikepaw's apology startled him almost as much as her initial outburst. He'd listened in stupefied silence as she genuinely expressed remorse over yelling at him; Darkpaw had wanted her to take those words back instantly. "I deserved it. I'm... I'm sorry."
That their first full conversation was a series of acknowledging their wrongs didn't make Darkpaw any less delighted. His respect for her grew so much that day, and he wanted to emulate Shrikepaw. Truly feeling guilty over what had transpired, he'd apologized to Badgerpaw next. Badgerpaw amicably accepted his words without any qualms, and Darkpaw felt a little freer because of it. Every time he flicked an ear and felt the scratched skin bleed anew, he reminded himself of Shrikepaw's bravery.
Willowlight swiftly interrogated him on his scratched ear, and he had only shrugged, taking an unhealthy delight in withholding something from a cat who tried to control so much of his life.
Willowlight sensed this shift. This growing rebellion.The Estrangement
While Swandive was on a morning patrol, Darkpaw was called away to the hidden thicket for more battle training. There, he was confronted by both Willowlight and Stormtalon who were anxious to test his skills against someone who wouldn't hold back. Darkpaw did not fold to their orders the way they were used to. Instead, he questioned them. Every time he felt his ear sting, it had reminded him to be brave. To speak up.
So he did.
It was an argument loud enough to frighten the birds from the trees. Claws and words were exchanged; Darkpaw's already scratched ear somehow ended up mangled at the base, unable to stand up properly. Stormtalon's nose had been cut open, and Willowlight was missing tufts of fur around her throat.
"That is enough!"
A voice like thunder shattered the tense energy of the clearing, and Darkpaw had been thrown in shadow by the looming figure of Lionstar, his golden pelt rippling with fury.
"He is an apprentice," growled the Clan leader, the hunting party that had heard the noise and led him here trying to peer through the thicket. "That he is your kin does not give you the right to pummel and twist him into a cat of your own design. His life is his own. Stormtalon, if I find that you have risen a claw against this apprentice again, you will spend your last days in an empty hollow with nothing but your own anger for company."
Darkpaw had swayed on his feet, stunned, to see Stormtalon's pupils dilate with badly controlled fury. But the elder yielded, leaving the clearing in a limping huff, shouldering his way past the small crowd of onlookers.
Willowlight's upbraiding came next.
"I have given him Swandive for a mentor, and Swandive only. If I find you trying to supplement his training, you will join Stormtalon in that empty hollow. Your grief is no excuse for the pain you've put this tom through."
Willowlight looked at Darkpaw. "I have been a good mother to my son, Lionstar. You do not have kits of your own, how could you possibly understand? Darkpaw knows that I only want what's best for him. Don't you, Darkpaw?"
Darkpaw's stomach had twisted itself into coils, and somehow, he found the courage to look away. "Swandive is who I want to train with. I don't need your help, Mother. Or Stormtalon's. I'm doing fine on my own."
The she-cat gasped as if she'd been stricken across the face. Willowlight lurched for him, and Lionstar's growl forced her sudden burst of movement to halt just as suddenly. Darkpaw forced himself to look her in the eyes again, and he saw her struggle to process the situation. Willowlight's composure returned, and with a stiff bow of her head, she left the clearing in a brisk, unrelenting stride.The Ceremony
The moon leading up to Darkpaw's ceremony was the most peaceful yet. A brief stint in the medicine cat's den healed his wounded ear, but it would never stand up straight again. Darkpaw didn't care; as long as Shrikepaw didn't look at him with pity, he wouldn't regret the injury. It was the first time he'd fought for himself, and that was a moment that deserved to be immortalized.
Willowlight kept her distance. Swandive and the others looked on when he was at last made a warrior before the whole of TreeClan. Darkpaw was christened Darkstone, for his resilience, for his inability to crumble under so much agonizing pressure. A profound look of understanding passed between Darkstone and Lionstar, and he knew for the first time what it was like to be... enough.
Darkstone sat vigil beside Jayflight and Ashcloud, Badgerbite and Shrikesong. His apprenticeship was over, and with it came the sensation of having survived some great trial. The others were blissful in the wake of their ceremonies, and Darkstone had thought Shrikesong had never looked more beautiful than she did standing vigil beside him. That chapter of Darkstone's life closed, and he stepped forward into a new one with the determination to live his life how he pleased.The Aftermath
Stormtalon somehow managed to outlive Willowlight too. The she-cat had tried repeatedly to worm her way back into Darkstone's life now that he was a warrior, cooing false apologies in his ear and promising to be a better mother to him. The friendships he now sustained with Jayflight, Ashcloud, Shrikesong and Badgerbite (as well as the watchful, supportive eye of Lionstar) made it very easy to refuse Willowlight. The she-cat died of greencough and bitterness. Though he regretted their relationship never being what it should have been, he found himself able to move on from her death as easily as he'd moved on from Sableclaw's.
The death of Ashcloud demanded the full stages of grief. Darkstone had shed tears beside his friends for poor Ashcloud. He had stood, shoulder to shoulder with Jayflight as they sat vigil over the young tom's body. Life could be so short, so short and pointless. He understood a little of the aggressive control his parents had tried to wrest upon him.
That sensation of helplessness against a universe that did not care if he was young or old, cruel or kind, would keep anyone up at night.The Courtship
Shrikesong was his light in the darkness. To hear him describe their courtship now and the fast-building feelings he felt for her, they'd call it a cliche or say he had a soft heart. Darkstone wouldn't care what it was labeled; her opinion, how she felt about him was all that seemed to matter some days.
The grief of Ashcloud and Shrikesong's mentor forced them to speak from their hearts, and Darkstone learned how to untangle his tongue long enough to have proper conversations. As time passed, the topics drifted away from their lost friend, and that left room for other things to fill in those new empty spaces; laughter, warmth, praise, acceptance, and respect.
It was when she promised she would never pity him that he told her the truth about his family. It was when she encouraged him to speak to Sweetblossom and forge a connection with his lost kin that he knew he loved her. His past wasn't some horrible thing he needed to abandon for all time, not in her eyes. And somehow, it was easier to believe better of himself if he knew she looked at him positively despite their rough beginnings.
Before long, they were mates. They took their time when it came to starting a family. It was less that Darkstone valued independence or in some way was hesitant to have one; instead, it was dissatisfaction with himself. He needed to be strong enough to give his family the best of himself, and that was something that would only come with time.
Early into his 20s, Darkstone was given an apprentice by the name of Elmpaw. Elmpaw was a soulful young tom, but he suffered from some kind of learning disability. Darkstone refused to show even an ounce of frustration. He refused to give Elmpaw even a hint of the same pressure and self-doubt and stress that had plagued him growing up. Elmpaw's apprenticeship was long, but Darkstone dedicated himself to helping the young tom flourish despite his cognitive impairment.
In a way, it helped Darkstone move on from the past too. He was almost ready to take that plunge into parenthood with the mate he loved, but not yet. Not yet.
Shrikesong again did not rush him. Her patience and love and commitment to him was worth its weight in starlight. Darkstone found closure through his aunt, Sweetblossom, who was saddened to hear of Stormtalon's and Sableclaw's passing, but did not seem unduly shocked by his descriptions of their behavior. The sense of kinship between aunt and nephew was the reassurance Darkstone needed. He had purred warmly when she'd spoke of her StoneClan family, of her hardships in the beginning and how it had all been worth it in the end.
"You know your heart best, Darkstone." Sweetblossom had told him. "Follow the path it wants to take, not one laid out by others."
The scars laid down by his parents and his grandfather healed. The cats he cherished most were largely responsible for the fresh scar tissue, their encouragement invaluable. Darkstone's apprehension turned to delighted warmth and excitement for the new life they were bringing into TreeClan. He vowed to be a better father than his sire and grand-sire had ever been. He vowed to lead with love, not expectation.The Stranger
Darkstone to this day harbors frustration over not being the one to save Shrikesong from a fox. If he had been, he could have avoided this whole mess.
Instead, that cat had been Clovermask, (then Cloverpaw) who had come to his mate's aid. What started was an uneasy, unusual friendship with a strange young she-cat. Darkstone was there when Shrikesong's impression of Clovermask went from positive, impressed, thoughtful to concerned and cautious.
Darkstone couldn't say he shared Shrikesong's assessment of Clovermask - that she's just lonely, that all she needs is a little guidance.
His suspicions of Clovermask were confirmed when the she-cat tried to convince his pregnant mate to join NightClan and be with her instead.
Darkstone did not put his thoughts into actual words, but when he'd heard tell of this encounter and how Clovermask reacted, Darkstone's blood ran cold.
Truth be told, he hated her for thinking she had any claim to Shrikesong and their kits. Delusional was a good word to use for Clovermask, and he remained on guard even when the chance for them to meet face to face finally presented itself.
Any hope of Darkstone's ear one day standing up again were dashed by Clovermask's claws. It took all the willpower of TigerClan and LionClan combined to keep from sinking his teeth into the NightClan she-cat in response.
Shrikesong broke the fight apart, and Darkstone had put himself between the crazed warrior and his pregnant mate.
"Leave, now." He'd snarled, but his threat was lost on Clovermask. Once again he was irrelevant in her eyes, it was only the blow from Shrikesong herself that drove Clovermask away.
What followed this were a few tense nights of long conversations. Darkstone deployed his former apprentice Elmheart, and he and Shrikesong's mutual friend Jaywing to keep an eye on the NightClan border whenever they could.
Shrikesong moving into the nursery was a godsend for Darkstone. He couldn't claim to know what Clovermask was planning, but his gut told him to watch out for something. At least now his beloved mate would be protected by an entire camp of cats, and he knew where she was at all times.
Besides… this way, if he and Clovermask crossed paths at the border again, Darkstone no longer had reason to hold back. The news of Clovermask passing would sadden Shrikesong, but at least their future would be safer.
To his surprise, Clovermask acted as if he and Shrikesong no longer existed. Evidence suggested she had moved on from her unhealthy obsession, but Darkstone could never fully relax.
He had too much experience with manipulative, selfish cats to simply believe the best case scenario.The Now
Shrikesong gave birth to the most beautiful kits in the entire valley. A gray tabby she-kit called Graykit, and a tuxedo tom called Moonkit. Though Darkstone had already considered their family ‘full’ before the arrival of Shrikesong’s litter, that definition of full promptly expanded by two. One of the most sacred memories in Darkstone’s heart was looking in on the nursery for that first time, his mate tired but radiating joy after an arduous kithood. Badgerbite and Jaywing stood beside him, letting him bask in the glow of this first adventure of parenthood. The love in that moment felt so powerful, so full, that every Clan in the valley should have felt it.
Now that Graypaw and Moonpaw are apprentices, that love hasn’t lessened. But instead it comes with a fresh set of worries. Darkstone grapples with a strong protective streak, wanting to keep his little ones close to camp rather than let them venture out into the world. There was so much strangeness and cruelty and bad luck out there waiting for them, how could he simply stand by and let it happen?
Shrikesong’s merit as both purehearted and a wise mother shine through against his doubts. They are a united front, both dedicated to raising their kits to the best of their abilities, bringing different strengths to the table. Shrikesong knows when to hold him back, and let them experience things for themselves. In exchange, he knows when to swoop in and firmly herd them away from danger.
The future promises trials ahead - no family is ever conflict or stress free, after all - and Darkstone keeps his wits about him, determined to weather the storm no matter what form it takes.
ROLEPLAY SAMPLE
this is only required for leaders, deputies, medicine cats and their apprentices. At least 150 words.
OTHER
Originally adopted from Katara . Mate to Phoenix 's Shrikesong, father to Lucense 's Moonpaw and @jen 's Graypaw.