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Post by mousy677 on Jan 21, 2011 5:44:01 GMT -8
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Why do you shun me for who I am?
FOR I AM BRANCHSTAR
of the great SoulClan
Age 57 moons
Gender Tom
Rank Leader
How can I hide in the shadows of the unknown?
WHEN MY PELT IS BROWN TABBY
and my eyes are amber.
Scars
Branchstar, due to his age, already has a good many scars. Sure, they don't look like much, but they're still there. There's a scar going across his right eye (from where he was attacked by the rats), and a chunk of skin is missing from his right leg. He's often found licking that scar, because it itches a lot.
Appearance
Branchstar is a big old boy, certainly, and, unlike some cats he isn't all fluffy, and actually tiny underneath all of his hair, mostly because his hair isn't so thick (and doesn't keep him so warm, really...). Still, he's there, I suppose, and that's mildly more important than being permanently warm (which, out of the entire group of the four of them, only Blackwing actually is). Taking… very little after either of his parents, and being pretty much the spitting image of his uncle, which is possibly a little odd (not that he’s complaining).
Branchstar is one of those cats who are never observed to be working, but are still pretty muscled. This is for two reasons: he does most of his work at night, when he isn’t required to be leading his Clan, and also, he has pretty good lineage: Greystar was always quite well-muscled and strong, and Flameflower was, until she became ill, one of SoulClan’s best female warriors (not that she was checking). Pretty much, Duckfeather and Brownpelt were always the exceptions to this rule: Brownpelt is thin, anxious and wiry, and Duckfeather, while quite muscular, is not so muscular, and built for running more than fighting (not that I am suggesting that he’s a coward or anything). So, pretty much, Branchstar is muscular, and not fat. That’s pretty much it build-wise.
Branchstar’s pelt is a pretty average sort of tabby golden-brown (like Duckfeather) and brown tabby, and, well, there isn’t that much to be said: his base coat is a nice sort of golden-brown colour; it’s relatively clear , apart from the fact that his chin is a little bit paler, and that there is white around his eyes. His stripes are largely a nice, caramel-brown, and the ones on his face are barely distinguishable from the golden honey-colour on his face, but the stripes, on his back, at least, are a sort of mottling, and actually… not really very stripy at all. How irritating; I’ve been trying to pass him off as ‘stripy’ to you. Sorry about that.
Branchstar’s eyes are probably his best feature: they’re a lovely, clear golden-amber colour, and… I don’t suppose I can say that much about his eyes, other than the fact they’re completely different from his father’s which were piercing, bright blue, and almost frightening.
So, there you have it. Branchstar of SoulClan.
Why do you judge me for what I’ll become? JUST BECAUSE I’M FLIRTATIOUS AND SMOOTH-TALKING.
Personality
Flirtatious | Intelligent | Warm Hearted | Cares About His Friends | Can Be Irritating | Smooth Talker | Seems Stupid | Actually A Good Cat.
Branchstar is one of those cats who is different in private to how he is in public: while he is a good cat and a capable leader, he acts like an immature, irritating little rat, but… well… he isn’t always like that: while his immaturity may have caused him to break up with his first love interest, he took it upon himself to look after the two kits, and taught them the warrior code himself. I guess… I guess that’s just who he is.
First off, though, Branchstar is a terrible flirt: he’s the sort of cat who is in love with a different she-cat every day of the moon, if not two (which often landed him in trouble). Seriously, he flirted with any she-cat that existed (apart from Oakflower. And Firebird, but he doesn’t like to think about her). When he settled down with Brackenwing, he was pretty good, though. Until that last day. That was kinda painful. Still, it’s so deeply ingrained in to his bones (which is funny, because Greystar and Flameflower were never like that: they stuck to each other all their lives) that… well, he flirted non-stop. Seriously, when all of his friends had settled down (with each-other, in the case of Bramblefoot and Blackwing), he was still flirting with any she-cat who would look twice at him.
Don’t let it be said he’s stupid, though: while he is sometimes a little dimwitted, he occasionally has attacks of amazing intelligence. They’re kind-of rare these days, but he has them occasionally. Even though it has always been Bramblefoot’s job to be the clever one of the group (by order, or, no doubt, they would all go and jump in to a ravine. I don’t know, it just seems like something that they would do), Branchstar isn’t always an idiot. Although he does a damn good job of disguising it, by which I mean that he seems stupid: he says things and does things (cheating on the mother of his kits, for example) that seem really idiotic, which is partly why he tends to hang around Bramblefoot and Blackwing. He also hangs around them because they’re his friends, but sometimes it seems like they just hang around together because he’s so stupid he’d probably get the entire Clan destroyed, even though he actually isn’t.
Branchstar is, though, extremely warm-hearted: he loves the kits - Blackwing’s kits (who are all apprentices) -, and he knows that they’re going to be great. He will always try to comfort a cat who is upset (although this sometimes backfires), and, even though he usually fails miserably, he tries, and I suppose that matters, right…? Right?
He genuinely cares about his friends - he showed this when he sacrified a life to protect Bramblefoot from the rats, even if he always was a bit of a bully to the brown tabby tom, but he sacrified a life for him, and, when you get right down to it, that's something. Also, he wants Oakflower to get over her problems (the ones she has about her heritage, that is: being a kittypet by birth, I suppose she would have problems); he wants Brownpelt to get over Robinpelt's death; he wants Blackwing and Bramblefoot to stay together. Above all, though, he just wants all of his friends to be happy, whatever they choose to do.
He can be irritating, though: all of the time they were younger (and quite a lot these days), Branchstar would incessantly-and-irritatingly-bully-Bramblefoot - sometimes, he would let Bramblefoot start speaking, and then run off while the other cat was half the way through a sentence, sometimes he would just ignore him, sometimes something else. But he did it insistantly, trying to annoy Bramblefoot as much as he could. Bramblefoot rarely took the bait, and would stalk off in a huff. Likewise, Branchstar is a bit teasing; he pokes at Oakflower (not too much, obviously: that would be possibly the stupidest thing doable) whenever he can, he irritates the other cats in the group.
Branchstar is such a smooth talker: he could get the moon to give him cheese, if he could be bothered and if it was possible: while he can't charm Bramblefoot, Brownpelt, Blackwing and Oakflower in to doing this-and-that, it's the charm and sweet-talking that gets him where he wants to with she-cats: while it wasn't deceit and sweet-talking that got him to be leader, it was sweet-talking that got him Brackenwing, and it also got him out of the tight spot relating to her death. Basically, he cleared his own name. Clever guy.
He’s also pretty immature: whether it’s the irritating way he tends to bully poor Bramblefoot (despite actually quite respecting him) or the ways he annoys Oakflower (despite the fact he’s obviously going to get clawed a bit for it), he acts immature. In fact, he could be immature for SoulClan, if not the entire forest. He, as I said, lets other cats start talking (only his closest friends and his cousin, at least), and then runs, or he doesn't let them get a word in edgeways or something. Basically, he's a pretty annoying little she-cat. And you know what I meant by that.
Now, I will not let it be said that he isn’t a good cat, because that just isn’t true. Greystar didn’t choose him for deputy because he’s his kit: had he done that, we may well have ended up with Redkit being leader, had she survived past the possibly-murder that ended her apprenticeship so suddenly. Greystar chose him for deputy because he thought he would be a good leader when he inevitably died. And, I suppose, all things considered, he is doing well, despite the inevitable slip-ups.
Preferences
LIKES ;;
- She-cats ;;
- Being with his friends ;;
- His kits ;;
- Playing ;;
DISLIKES
- Cats mentioning his dead mate ;;
- Cats making fun of Bramblefoot ;;
- His kits being mocked ;;
Secret Ambitions
Secretly, Branchstar wants to prove, once and for all, that he is, truly a good cat, and that he won’t let another cat die unnecessarily.
Strengths/Weaknesses
He’s a pretty strong fighter, but he really isn’t such a runner. Sure, he’s a good cat, but he can’t run so fast. He gets tired out really quickly.
How am I punished for what my kin has done?
EVEN IF MY PARENTS ARE GREYSTAR AND FLAMEFLOWER
Family
Greystar -- Rats -- Father. “I very much loved my father, and I miss him a lot, every day. But then I remember that he wanted me to be leader.”
Flameflower -- Disease -- Mother. “Some day, I hope to find out why mother died.”
Event that Lead to being a Warrior
He finished his training. Simple as.
History
Greystar was already old when his kits were born, and, perhaps, that is why he was so tough on his son-oblique-apprentice. But he was, certainly.
Two kits were born to Flameflower and Greystar, and neither bore any resemblance whatsoever to their mother: the she-kit, a tiny little thing, but still extremely strong and brave, was bright ginger, and therefore, named Redkit. She was exactly like her mother, but replicated in miniature, and the tom didn’t look like either of his parents, but was practically a clone of his uncle, Duckfeather, whose own son (who had exactly the same features as his cousin), Brownkit, was born at a similar time, and very often mistaken for Branchkit, which was somewhere in between funny and irritating for the honey-and-caramel-coloured tom.
All through his kithood, Branchkit was very close to Redkit, but he also found himself befriending three other cats: Oak-kit, who was a small-but-still-very-fierce Oriental cat, who would claw up anyone who mentioned her not being a Clan cat by birth (she was brought to SoulClan as a tiny kit by a kittypet who wanted one of her kits to become something); Black-kit, an intelligent, happy young black she-cat who was just larger than Branchkit and Bramblekit, who was probably the most intelligent of the group, but still not very good socially, and constantly the target of Branchkit’s bullying, although the three she-kits would still defend him. After a while, it became clear that they had a friendship that could never be ended, not by anything. Obviously, Brownkit was also a major part of the action, if unwillingly.
Of course, they weren’t willing to test that.
If anything sums up the group’s kithood (I will count it as one, because they were completely inseperable), it’s sneaking out of camp behind their families’ backs, and, most of the time, this went well enough: they would sneak out, and, hopefully, they wouldn’t be noticed doing so. Hopefully. And, actually, they were never really missed. This… probably says something about how they were raised, heh… Well, maybe Greystar knew that they were out, and was just testing them. If he was, though, he was a bad father.
“Bramblekit, hurry UP!” Branchkit was doing a lot of things at once: he was keeping half an eye on the slower members of the group (read: Bramblekit), avoiding Oak-kit’s constant attempts to stab him with her claws and trying to keep ahead. After all, the leader’s son should lead.
“I… ah… Branchkit, I think we’re missing someone!” Bramblekit mewed anxiously to the larger kit. Branchkit skidded to a halt, and Oak-kit stopped in a slightly more organized manner beside him. Bramblekit just avoided colliding with a rock, and Brownkit and Black-kit, who had been walking in any case, galloped the last few fox-lengths and reached their friends.
No Redkit.
“Redkit!” Branchkit called. “Redkit, come on! This isn’t funny!”
Brownkit’s eyes suddenly grew wide, and the others looked at the kitten who was pretty much the twin/clone of Branchkit. Branchkit narrowed his eyes, and then he heard what Brownkit must have been hearing.
“Come on!” he yelled, and ran off without checking that the others were even following him.
If the sound was what he thought it was, his sister could be dead already…
Redkit had supposedly died that day, and, because he had been ‘leading the patrol’, Branchkit took all of the blame for the supposed murder of his sister. However much he missed her, though, he vowed to find out what had happened and to avenge her death, however tacky that sounds to you. Because it isn’t. At all.
The kits became apprentices upon their sixth moon, and Greystar took his son as his own apprentice, hoping that he could actually make something of the tom, rather than him still being somewhat-useless, and it was around then, his sixth moon, that he started flirting with she-cats. And believe me, none of his friends (and also his cousin) were very pleased about it. It irritated them more than anything else in the entire world.
After a while, it became obvious (or so Greystar thought) that, out of the group of apprentices, Branchpaw was the least likely to ever settle down with a mate, and anyway it was beginning to become obvious that Blackpaw and Bramblepaw were inadvertently falling for each-other, and, even though they were definitely going to remain a close group, maybe the relations between them would cause problems. Still, though, they carried on with their training.
It was around then that it became obvious that something was very much wrong with Flameflower. The she-cat spent much of her time lying around and sleeping, and, even though she hardly ate, and when she did she would immediately sick it up again, she carried on getting rounder. Greystar and Flameflower knew that it wasn’t kits; they didn’t want any more kits, so they hadn’t been trying for kits. Logic!
No-one had any idea what on earth was going on with Flameflower, and, even though she was ill, she had her steely determination still, and, even though the medicine cat warned her not to, she still went out on patrols or hunting.
It was hunting that she died.
She didn’t return from a hunting trip, and Greystar immediately became worried. A patrol of cats went out, and returned with Flameflower’s dead body. It wasn’t obvious what had caused it; up until then, she had always been a really healthy cat, but she was buried that night, and Branchpaw got back in to training - partly because his father ordered it, but also partly because he wanted to do something - anything that would help him stop remembering his dear mother.
And so it passed that the group all became warriors on the same night, and they guarded the camp all night long. Because that was their duty.
By the next morning, they were full warriors. It was simple enough; they went on patrol, they hunted and all of that, and life was simple enough for them. Branchfur still missed his sister, and that all missed his mother. She had really been like a mother to the whole group of them, but at least she wasn’t in pain any more. That was how Branchfur thought of it: her last moon with them, she had been in pain, and now she was happy and watching them from up in the stars. It made enough sense.
On his thirteenth moon, Branchfur fell head-over-paws in love with Brackenwing, a beautiful young she-cat, made warrior just after them. None of the others minded (Oakflower was quite glad, actually: it gave her a break from chasing him around while he was courting his new girlfriend, and she could be with her friends more), and the two were madly in love really soon after that, and it stayed like that.
Maybe… maybe seventeen moons is a bit young to be a father; maybe it’s a bit young to want kits. But Brackenwing and Branchfur wanted kits when he was seventeen moons old (and she was sixteen moons old), and even though they did try, they didn’t get kits, but Brackenwing was still a part of the little group. The others all accepted her (and Oakflower was rather fond of her: she was pretty much the only cat in the Clan who could shut Branchfur up, which was good) and the group became a little larger.
A tree was dropped in front of their attempts to have kits, though, when Branchfur was given Goldenpaw, a young tom, to mentor, partly because Greystar was getting a bit annoyed about only hearing about Brackenwing, but partly because he wanted his son to become deputy, and to give him a bit of responsibility when the present deputy retired (because she was planning on doing that), which was probably a good idea.
Goldenpaw’s training went very smoothly: the little tom was pretty clever, and could already quote every rule of the warrior code by his age, so Branchfur pretty much taught him to fight and hunt, and he learned quickly.
It was during that time, though, that Branchfur noticed Shadowclaw. She was beautiful, certainly, and Branchfur, despite himself, found himself falling in love with her. Unfortunately, he didn’t reckon on his cousin constantly watching him, and noticing, and telling Brackenwing that her love was cheating on her. And that was where it ended between them.
It was on a walk to the river that Brackenwing ended it. She told Branchfur straight out that she was pregnant, and that she was leaving him. It hurt. A lot.
But he didn’t push her.
That’s what he told them, and it’s what he’s still telling them: she fell off a slippery rock and he tried to catch her, but he couldn’t, and so she was swept downstream. Branchfur ran alongside her, and, when the river was lighter, he dragged her out. Her kits - their kits -, a moon premature, were born there and then. Branchfur took them back to camp, and they were looked after by the medicine cat, until Firekit and Mudkit were pronounced to be out of the danger zone.
They were safe.
That same moon, however, the deputy retired and became an elder: she had been getting old, and, well, when you’re over seventy moons old, it’s probably time to retire if you’re deputy. And so, Branchfur was picked to be the new deputy, and he served well under his father.
For the first moon that he was deputy, Branchfur wouldn’t talk to his cousin, because he blamed Brownpelt or the death of his mate, and he wouldn’t let him anywhere near Redkit and Mudkit, spitting at him if he stepped near the nursery.
He still felt sorry for him when his love interest died, though.
“You really ought to forgive him, Branchfur,” Oakflower said, nodding slightly. Blackwing nodded, and Bramblefoot ignored the talking, leaning down to bite on a claw. Blackwing lost interest in the discussion pretty quickly, and went over to him.
“Oakflower, I appreciate your concern, but he essentially killed my mate; caused my kits to be born early and nearly die themselves. I… just can’t forgive him that,” Branchfur sighed, leaning down to lick Oakflower’s shoulder.
“With all due respect, Branchfur, you did your yourself. He was merely the bearer of bad news,” Bramblefoot said indistinctly (still biting his claw), nodding slightly.
There was a sudden flurry of fur, and then Bramblefoot was lying on the ground, staring up at a cat who was presently a complete stranger, while also somehow managing to be one of his closest friends.
“Say that again and your throat comes out,” Branchfur snarled, and then let Bramblefoot up. The brown tom stared upwards, dazed, for a second, and then Blackwing poked him with a paw. He flipped upright, and sat, glaring fiercely at Branchfur, before getting up and stalking wordlessly out.
As the cats digested what had just happened, Brownpelt ran in, bleeding and gasping. He very nearly collapsed, but Oakflower just caught him before he fell on top of Blackwing.
“It’s Robinpelt!” he gasped. “An eagle took her!”
Her body was never found.
Before long, though, it was suspected that there were rats on the territory, and Greystar and a few other cats went off to investigate, wanting to keep their clan safe. It was a while, though, before the group and Duckfeather noticed that the entire Clan (apart from the queens and kits, obviously) had gone. And that it was dark.
Branchfur’s father’s body was buried that night, and he received his nine lives. At this time, he was 42 moons old, and there’s a lot of time between then and now.
The first thing that Branchstar did as leader was appoint a deputy: he picked Spottedsky, a young she-cat of the Clan, who seemed as though she would be a good deputy.
The second thing he did was make up with his cousin, fortunately. And, with all of this said-and-done, the group was - fortunately - back to normal again: Branchstar still bullied Bramblefoot, who was still in love with Blackwing who still occasionally giggled she-cattishly in a corner over something. And Brownpelt still jumped out of his skin at any movement, however slight.
Ironically, the first cats to become apprentices while he lead the clan were his own kits, Redkit and Mudkit. He gave them good mentors, and hoped that they would become warriors in their time, and become good warriors, at that. In fact, he knew they would.
Before long, however, there was an attack of Greencough on the Clan, and many cats were killed. Amongst them, unfortunately, was Branchstar, who lost his first life to Greencough, which wasn’t really good. Still, he survived, and, as soon as the outbreak was over, he was fine again and went back to how he had previously been. Now fighting-fit, the tom went back to leading his Clan.
Maybe he should have been more cautious, or maybe he was stupid or maybe he was too protective, but, out on a walk (patrol, walk, whatever. He calls them patrols, I call them walks, because they make enough noise to scare all of the prey between here and fourtrees), he hand his friends accidentally wandered in to the Warehouse, and there are, obviously, rats in the warehouse. None of them noticed them, but, the second Branchstar spotted the creatures, he whirled around and started biting at them, trying to protect his friends.
He went a bit too far, and he lost his first life to the rats.
But he wouldn’t give up.
Not when he saw what had happened, at least.
At first, he thought Bramblefoot was dead, but when he saw the tom try to move, he sprung over with the rest of them, and started killing the rats. They all killed many of them, but, once again, Branchstar was foolish, and he didn’t notice the second rat, and that one, too, took a life. Thus, he had lost two lives in one day, a deplorable situation.
But Bramblefoot, Oakflower, Blackwing and Brownpelt survived, and that was all that mattered. So long as they all lived, nothing could separate them. Nothing.
Branchstar was laid low for a while, while he recovered from his wounds, and Spottedsky had to lead the clan for a while, on her own. But, by the time Branchstar was back in action, he discovered that Blackflower was expecting Bramblefoot’s kits. The shock only lasted for a while, though, and the kits were born: Squirrelkit, Finchkit, Ratkit, Icekit, Sablekit and Gingerkit - “In honour of Redkit.”
These days, the kits are seven moons old, and causing trouble everywhere they go. Branchstar doesn’t think he’s the only one who has noticed something: Ratkit is the leader, Squirrelkit is the clever one, Finchkit is the cheerful one, Sablekit is the fighter and Icekit is the anxious one. And Gingerkit? Well, she’s the sensible one, and the only one who won’t sneak out of camp.
What I’m getting at here is that the kits just like they were. They’re just like Branchstar, Bramblefoot, Blackwing, Oakflower, Brownpelt and Redkit always were; still are; always will be.
While there’s no such thing as eternal life, these cats are as close at it gets.
Sample RP“Oakflower, if this is true then I want everything checked out about it. If there are rats in the area and my father is out, who knows what could happen,” Branchfur hissed.
Even though Brownpelt, Blackwing, Oakflower and Bramblefoot had absolutely nothing to do with SkyClan’s leadership, and Branchfur didn’t even know why, the tabby tom liked them around when he was anxious. Maybe it was the fact that he could bully Brownpelt, or that Oakflower seemed to be such a sturdy presence and a shoulder to lean on in times of anxiousness or that his cousin seemed to only reflect his anxiousness, or that Blackwing was spurring and always happy, but having his friends and cousin around seemed to help him, somehow.
Ugh, he was the deputy! And the deputy to Greystar, no less! He wasn’t supposed to need counsel from these cats, but… somehow… somehow the cats he had grown up chasing around, bullying, being bullied by or just chatting to… the familiar faces reassured him, somehow.
Duckfeather was the next in to the warriors’ den: with everyone out looking for Greystar, camp was pretty much empty, so there was no need for the old tabby to be skulking around the Rockpile, where he usually was. Duckfeather seated himself next to his son, and nodded at Branchfur.
“Any sign of him yet, Duckfeather?” Branchfur asked anxiously. Duckfeather gave him that dark look that instantly told the younger tom to be quiet, and he did so.
“Branchfur, if your father had been found, then an entire Clan of screaming, yowling cats would have run in here to tell us. So no. No sign yet, but believe me, you will be the first to know,” the tabby tom said, with a gentle nod.
This had always seemed to be every tom’s dream, looking for the leader if he had been lost. Great StarClan, didn’t they understand the problems that it caused?! No, of course they didn’t. None of them were the leader’s son.
“Branchfur…” Oakflower was looking anxiously out of the den. Duckfeather glanced out too, murmured an anxious,
“Oh my…” and slunk out of the den. He then turned around and looked at the other cats, specifically Brownpelt. “Brownpelt, are you coming or not?” he asked, and then signaled for the others to follow.
Blackflower must have known something that the others didn’t, because… well, she was standing, shivering, in a corner of the den, green eyes wide with anxiousness. She then turned, and pressed her head against Bramblefoot’s shoulder. The brown tabby had been sitting down, watching the scene unfold in the intelligent way in which he did, and… well… if this looked one thing - to Oakflower, to Brownpelt, to Blackwing, to Bramblefoot, to Branchfur - it looked very bad.
“Branchfur.” Duckfeather’s face was grave, and Brownpelt just looked terrified. “It’s your father. He’s… he’s been attacked by rats.”
Branchfur already suspected the worst, and prepared for the news.
“He’s dead.”
You call me by the name I’ve lied
I meet in secret with those who’ve died
Though life is not’ but treachery
This life is all the life in me
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