silver locks && golden keys __ [lightfall of BC]

[⋆ -- fALLEN __ [s t a r]]

as the paintbrush strokes the paper
a picture is formed

[/color][/font][/size][/center]OOC:

[nickname] :skye, falleh, skyluff, etc.
[other characters] : Fallenstar, Moonkit, Lightfall, Airpaw, Lockrush, Grasspaw.
: n/a

a star light night
milky-way and all

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BIC:

[name] -- Lightfall
[age] -- 34 moons
[gender] -- Tom
[clan] -- BranchClan
[rank] -- Warrior

the air is warm and crisp
the grass is soft to the touch

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[personality] --

The desire to save the world–
the power lies in words
If only the brilliance existed to arrange them.

Few cats notice Lightfall -- and perhaps its because he's the type to fade into the background without really trying, becoming a shadow of himself and a blur of lines that fade into one, reoccurring frame, or maybe it's because he's already set himself apart from everyone else, above them - so high in the skies that he automatically puts himself mentally above the rest and so high that his mind occasionally drifts away, detaching from reality - that makes Lightfall so characteristcally different from the normal tom who's dreams are filled to the brim with bunnies and she-cats while his contorts into nightmares of the past and fears of the future.

From the start of his birth, the young silver tom has been quite unlike anyone else -- in mind, in thought, in build, cats have tended to automatically set himself apart and it's not as if he minds this, because he does this too. Truthfully, the warrior is different -- from the average warrior, he's smarter, quicker in wit and mind, and overall very intelligent, even in comparison to cats that are three times his age. It is because of this that maybe Lightfall hadn't spent as much of a time as a blubbering apprentice - or any time at all being a blubbering, stuttering apprentice more than a mature, cool-headed one that takes seriousness (perhaps too much) in his duties - as some of his peers.

Generally, Lightfall is not a very sociable tom and often feels awkward - and, what most cats would identify as "shy" but he refuses to accept - in social gathering, often hiding in the side lines, strange amber pools gazing, wandering, wavering -- taking in everything, absorbing it instead of interacting with it.

Instead of bouncing around and dancing like some mousebrained fools in his clan, instead of being all bright and sparkly, capturing cats attention with a flick of the wrist, like other cats, this tom prefers to be alone. Lightfall has been known to be the solitary kind of cat and it is often in these moments of his, when he's staring up at the stars, quite a few foxlengths from everyone else both physically and emotionally, that he likes to think. The silver-furred tom is also very thoughtful and quiet, preferring to solve things himself then go crawling to the nearest high-position figure like a thoughtless idiot.

And although the occasionally cocky tom - not always intentionally, but sometimes he does act particularly hare-headed purposely, stubborn too - does not wear his heart on his sleeve like most cats, the tom does hold a certain fondness for his youngest sister, Frostrose, and has been known to soften to her will, especially in comparison to the rest of his siblings. As for Gorsefang, he isn't partial with him either and the fact that he was the cause for his sister's death (not that he holds it against him too much) and the major annoyance of his apprenticehood does not play well with the amber-eyed tom.

Lightfall is perhaps the strangest mix of emo, nerd and geek possible, but he is who he is. Softcloud's son.

[appearance] --

His dreams are a tapestry collection
With blank canvases, lacking colors.

[/blockquote]Few cats look like Lightfall, or at the least, is able to pull of the same type of charm that he does. At first glance, the young warrior does not seem to be anything special: a silver coat, tinged with shadowed moonlight bands and a pair of strange amber eyes that, though sharp and brilliant in the moonlight like crystalline honey, in the moonlight, are none too rare. They are both a perfect blend to his face, yet also appealingly rare and some have compared them to lanterns on the darkest of nights; his eyes are like amber sap, all soft and gleaming with light, but the depths of them are dark with unseen emotions and knowledge, foreign to any other cat his age.

In the daylight, his eyes are quite pale and bland, deserving none of the attention that is occasionally brought to them; the color of oats in the light of a summer's honeyed sunset, there are not much reason for cats to find themselves "lost in them", or mesmerized by his gaze, not at all as with cats such as Airpaw of RootClan - with his father's blue, blue, blue eyes that even the silent Lightfall found him - not that he'd admit it - on occasion staring at - and the Grasspaw of his own clan - her own green, green, green eyes of her parents something that warranted attention to many of the toms in the clan. (It did not help that those green eyes also seemed, quite interestingly, much like LeafClan's leader. When she had joined the clan, that fact had caused quite a rile among a few gossipers and she, often, was the subject of "The Talk" when the sun fell, the very same "Talk" that Lightfall refused to join in all these years.)

His fingers are jobless brushes
Forgot long ago how to mix tones.

In matters of build, Lightfall might be considered to be more admirable and some wagging tongues have even gone as far as to spread rumors about him, as to why he is not - at all - interested in any such she-cat with the "body" he has. As smart as he may be, this warrior is quite oblivious in such matters and is confused - though he would not speak it - as to where such rumors began. Certainly, this silver tom - with the smooth, long silver strands that flood his coat and the occasional streaks of gray - has once or twice caught the eyes of some unsuspecting she-cat. Like his brother, Gorsefang, he's good-looking with a certain charm that may draw some second glances.

Neither scrawny nor muscular, Lightfall isn't too sure where he got his traits from. Although he carries his mother's pale amber eyes, there is little evidence of who his father was and, even though it may seem he has no such interest in the matter, the little tom inside the pale warrior is still wondering, wanting, wishing for a father -- a father like Gorsefang has. (in this aspect, he is envious of his younger sibiling)

Despite his appealing looks, this tom is not without his flaws. A long line stretches down his back leg, resembling a road of scars that twists and turns, as if thick cords of thorns had embedded themselves in his pelt. As a young kit, he and his brother had strayed a little too far from the nursery; Lightkit ended up getting caught in a bramble bush, the nettles scorching past flesh and almost into bone. He nearly lost a leg that day. There are smaller, less memorable scars scattered across his pelt, as well, as any other warrior should have.

Yes, Lightfall is a charming young fellow isn't he? Not that, of course, he notices.

So he lays;
      dreaming black & white.

[/i][/font][tattoo] -- there is no explaining such a tattoo as Lightfall's. For a tom that relies on his wit more than his feelings, his intelligence more than his "non-existent" (or so he likes to believe) emotions, he was expected to have an equally understandable tattoo, perhaps a simple line or two. Something that was him, something simple/

But, like his marking reflects, he is not simple and even though, now, he cannot believe such a blow to his thoughts, the very same thoughts that he had centered his life around, it is true. There are many layers to this silver-furred tom and like a house of mirrors, each new part is a pure reflection of its counterpart, resonating against each other like a perfect painting.

In simple truth, Lightfall bears a unique tattoo with an assortment of colors adorning it to form a strange pattern along his neck, impossible to miss at a closer glance. Multicolored inky crests - red, green, white, blue - line his silver-plated fur in a formal shape, running horizontally along the moonlit strands, and are adjoined by softer, honey-colored circles, as bright as sunkissed sunshine. The crests are jointed at certain points, artistically placed and smooth lines arch upwards, slicing through the entire figure at a diagonal angle.

His tattoo is mesmerizing and brilliant, but - like the rest of him - is easy to miss at first glance.
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as i connect the stars and draw new pictures
i feel free like no one can touch me

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[history] --

walk along to another day.
work a little harder, work another way.

it was bright and sunny, the beauty of the cloudless, clear sky enough to warm anyone's heart. the birds sang cheerfully when Softcloud went into labor and as she very nearly blacked out, as most first time mothers usually do, she was faintly aware of medicinal herbs pressed softly against her parted lips, the warmth of the day seeping into her moonlit fur.
lightkit was born first with his long, silver-rushed fur that cascaded elegantly down his backside, tiny paws appearing in darker strands of ebony, and soft blue eyes that would, they could see, fade later on to a strange, alluring amber hue. tiny ears lay adorned his angular face, accompanied by silver lips and a sharp, as though chiseled jaw, and his lean figure, fluid and smooth like his unknown father, reminded Softcloud of their father that they would never know they had.
then came his brother, stormkit. muscular and strong even in his youth, with dark-plated stone fur just like his father and large gray paws, he was a little bit larger than his brother. black ears pressed against a smooth, round cranium and ebony lips pressed together as pleading mews escaped them, his eyes were shimmered a pale blue as well, which would later fade to a soft amber hue, glowing like a million golden lanterns.
softcloud gazed fondly at them both, instantly loving her two little kits, but the happiness that suddenly filled her was not enough to replace the empty ache in her heart that they would soon have because they lacked a father figure.
a strangled sound escaped her lips, almost choking, and she pressed her muzzle to lightkit's tiny head, hiding forgotten tears.

lightkit grew up fairly well, alongside his brother and they did not get into many outrageous affairs between the two of them. they were fairly well-behaved kits, silent and thoughtful and strong but occasionally rowdy, and for this reason, this worried their mother. weren't kits supposed to be bright and fun and full of laughter? weren't they supposed to cause trouble?
one day, lightkit overheard her mother fretting about this with a queen that he knew rather well but couldn't recall the name of and the empty ache in his heart grew a bit more. he had always thought that kits who did such things to worry their parents out of their wits were stupid little creatures, but what was this? he was supposed to give his mother a heart attack, day by day?
he asked her one day about this and she seemed taken aback. then she laughed - a laugh that made his heart warm, that made him happy because his mother suddenly was not sad anymore - and purred in amusement. she chided him for easedropping in matters that "did not concern him" and assured him that whatever he chose to do, he would do it right.
at these words, lightkit smiled and jumped away to go play with stormkit, his heart at ease.

in his sixth moon, lightkit became lightpaw and in a matter of minutes, his life was turned upside down. his mother wasn't his mother anymore. no, it wasn't that she became a warrior again because that was something he could very properly well live with -- that was just how the clan worked. no, he had to share his mother now.
and sharing with stormpaw, his brother, was different.
now, lightpaw was never particularly attached to softheart and did not make a huge deal about it when she told him that she was carrying a litter of kits with talltree, who was not their father. instead, he looked at her with those piercing eyes of his that made him look so much like his biological father and said nothing.
this part of reality, lightpaw did not understand. he knew for a fact that his mother was not in love with talltree because otherwise he would have noticed and the news might have not been so surprising. a part of him always thought that softheart had loved another tom, his real father, and that the relationship had not worked out -- but because she was able to have kits with talltree, a tom she barely knew, was evidence that this was not true. it made lightpaw awfully confused.
when little gorsekit was born, lightpaw did not look at the tiny kit with disgust more than confusion. a small bundle of brown fur that cried and squealed far too much; how could this tiny thing make his mother - and talltree - so happy? staring at the young kit, amber pools smoldering as he furrowed his eyebrows, he pondered this.
what he thought of gorsekit later on, when the tiny thing only followed them and constantly got in the way of their training and plans, did not become better. gorsekit was annoying, and yet he made talltree so happy. troublesome.

at the time gorsekit became gorsepaw, lightpaw was immensley relieved. now, his half-brother would not be so annoying if his attention was otherwise diverted.
able to push all of his energy into his training, he soon pleased his mentor - a serious, no-nonsense tom called darkheart - and was quickly made into a warrior at fourteen moons.
with his brother alongside him, lightpaw became lightfall and stormpaw became stormclaw.
all throughout his ceremony, lightfall was grinning and even the news that his mother would soon birth another litter of kits from riftchasm could not dampen his spirits.

when frostkit, riverkit, bramblekit and flowerkit were born, lightfall went to visit them. he wasn't going to be childish and brooding like he was when gorsekit was born; he had long ago tossed away his childish tendencies to be jealous because he had to share his mother. it did not bother him so much anymore because he was mature.
he looked at them with a sort of indifference that made softheart giggle - her son was trying to act older, but not really succeeding - and when his amber eyes glanced at the pale bundle of fur that was forstkit, his heart immediately warmed.
he didn't hate riftchasm anymore for taking his mother away, or any other of the toms that she had kits with, and the empty ache in his heart that had always been there during birth vanished for moments. he smiled - actually smiled - then.
he didn't resent any of them, but in that moment, he knew that frostkit would always be his favorite for he was immediately taken by her, as the rest of the clan would be.

in his twenty-fourth moon or so, lightfall was well off as a strong, reliable warrior of his clan and the clan respected him rather well. there was nothing wrong with his life that he could complain about at the rpsent time and perhaps it was because of this ease that he found a new emotion trickling into his solid shield of emotions.
a she-cat had caught his eye; her name was brightflare.
she was pretty and smart, but slightly vain, and lightfall - at the time - thought he was falling for her. she had sun-colored fur and eyes like a starclan cats. her laugh was brilliant and bright, like silver bells, and her smile was something that could bring songbird's out of the trees. lightfall soon found himself padding after her, something he would never imagine.
however, one day, when he overhead a conversation between her and another she-cat, complaining about Frostpaw with some unmentionable words and how she had the clan wound around her paw, his affections ceased.
he wasn't going to fall for a cat like that.

soon enough, his apprentice and half-sister, Frostpaw, became Frostrose and Lightfall couldn't have been more prouder. He watched happily as she was made a new warrior alongside her siblings and perhaps it was because he was the only one that was not included in the accident, he was not the only one thinking that there was a cat missing.
Lightfall, although he had always been thoughtful, became more quieter as Gorsefang became more outgoing and loved. His mother had retreated to the elder's den after Riftchasm's death and because she was so hurt by it, he felt himself hurt too. However, he had never really liked Riftchasm and the ache in his heart from the absence of his father never really got bigger because of his foster-father's death.
Now, Lightfall spends his days taking walks with Stormclaw and occasionally his other siblings. He does not pity his brother - for that is the last thing Stormclaw wants, least of all from his brother - and instead often pretends as if Stormclaw is not mangled and that he is as a great of a warrior that he once was.
He still wonders, time and time and again, what it would have been like to have a father. A real father, but again, he does not let these thoughts bother him too much.
[role-playing example] -- look at fallenstar's bio, please. <3

the moon is full and bright
as a shooting star flies by
as the paintbrush strokes the paper, I'm gone

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_{[a painted picture by purplelover]}

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[!! FLI]