i'll never get my happy ending } astralpaw [uf]

[⋆ -- fALLEN __ [s t a r]]

we were drawn from the weeds
we were brave like soldiers

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

falling down under the pale moonlight
you were holding me like something broken
and i couldn't tell you but i'm telling you now

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BIC:

[name] -- Astralpaw
[age] -- 11 moons
[gender] -- Tom
[clan] -- RootClan
[rank] -- Apprentice

just let me hold you while you're falling apart
just let me hold you so we both fall down

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[personality] --

choking on bitterness
of indiscretions and unspoken words,
i trip over your sign language
as i close the door.

There are many words that have been used to describe this particular hard-headed apprentice -- dashing, cold, bitter, silent. He is also amusing and fun, easily loved by all those who get close enough to him to the see the real him. He gives off the appearance of a somewhat perfect looking cat - after all, who would expect any less of Nightcross' son? - and the demeanor of the most imperfect cat in the world.

Almost as intolerably stubborn as his grandfather in this way, the young apprentice isn't exactly socially ambitious. Upon the first meeting, cats always hold some resentment for him, whether it because of being socially inept or simply hard-headed in his ways, but Astralpaw never really cares -- his stoic expression or dark scowl is evidence enough. Perhaps it is the darkness in his heart - this impossible bitterness that has planted themselves inside him, like tiny seeds that are waiting to burst - that allows him to think this way. Even if Nightcross spent every waking moment with his son (and daughter too), it was obvious that the dark warrior did not care for him as he did Oceanpaw. This modern Astralpaw does not care that he learned to successfully hunt and track weeks before his apprentice ceremony. No, instead what feeds the hate in his heart is the lack of affection in his father's eyes - the sparkle that was never there - even if has already been moons since his fathers death.

Just like any other tom, Astralpaw always hides his fear behind a mask of anger and stubbornness, believing that this resolve of his was better than facing the world with a shimmering mask of innocence like his sister. He can't be like his sister, who showered the world in her warm, irresistible glow and show everyone what she was really feeling so, instead, he hid behind his darkened veil of emotions, making everyone believe that he was alright when it really wasn't.

For instance, when six moons rolled around, the excitement of being apprenticed melted quickly into fear, much like ice on a spring day. While Oceankit paced the nursery for what seemed like ages, worried eyes darting back and forth quickly, even as Nightcross and Kindledrose tried to console her from the wings, unsure Astralkit sat at the edge of nursery, panic bubbling beneath his cool demeanor. Oceankit would be okay - she was perfect, what did she have to worry about ? - but he knew that he would not succeed as she had; he would fail like fate planned it. Everything, as he imagined StarClan would say, was going to turn out right in the end, and how it was supposed to be but that's what worried him the most.

Perhaps the most common adjective that has been used to describe the Astralpaw among his years as a member of RootClan, is incredibly, almost intolerably stubborn. Ask anyone, he has always been quite headstrong, whether his thoughts are contested by others or not. If he is involved in any type of argument, it is known throughout his Clan that said argument will most likely last until Astralpaw either gets his way, or inevitably grows bored with the situation; either way, he has the tendency to believe that he is right, regardless.

The young tom has a very sharp tongue, often being the first to come back with a quick retort to most anything that meets with his disapproval. More than once, he has hurt the feelings of those around him with this habit, though he avoids doing this as best he can when around his Clan mates. Cats of different Clans, however, are a different story altogether; many cats know of the tom simply because of the witty but usually casual barbs that he throws at those around him. Astralpaw has never shown true interest in gatherings, to be honest, and would rather stay home to guard camp then swap meaningless stories with his enemies.

Astralpaw, however, beneath everything, is quite the loyal and trustworthy cat. Underneath the hard exterior lies a much softer shell, revealing a cat with a burning passion to protect all that is dear to him and a determination to succeed even oceankit's fate. it is a hard path to walk in order to gain this particular tom's affection and trust; however, once you have gotten there, it is safe and sure that he will protect you with whatever he has -- whether this will twist his world upside down, or simply destroy it.

Astralpaw is a shadowed cat -- not only in appearance, but in preference as well. Although he has a small interest of the stars and the skies that give him his name, the young tom prefers to lurk in the depth of the night while everyone is asleep and his eyes blank, swirling with an understanding deeper than anything, he will often ponder over what has happened. There is nothing to get him out of these trances, not even a scream from a beloved family member. There is a pain, deep beneath the barriers of his heart, that no cat has ever reached -- and will, it seems, ever touch.

The one thing that cats find to be true about young Astralpaw is his nearly unbearable fury, the anger at his parents for leaving him, that unfailingly continues to bubble near the surface of his heart, colder than the most ice and hotter than coals dipped in flaming lava. His voice is often orated with rage, as he can almost never control his temper, or flat with laziness -- both feeble efforts to cover the hurt and pain of not being loved as he should. Ah yes, his temper - sharp like a knife, yet sheathed in the most beautiful way that you can never "expect" it to lash out - is the only thing that his father really praised him for. 'Your best weapon,' the dark tom had murmured one night, thinking of their future, but even as he said it, both cats knew that it was his only valuable weapon. Even as young as he was, Nightcross never had the same expectations for his average son that he had for their beautiful daughter and when he said those words, making the tiny silver kit cringe in discomfort, Astralkit had known that there was meaning behind his low murmur - a meaning that was meant to be masked, hidden - but Astral understood.

It pains him greatly that his father thought so little of him, that he would never be as great. It's a horrible weight, an agony, on his shoulders that constantly weighs him down.He's slowly breaking, his insides crumbling into tiny unbreakable shards, and though he would never admit it, Astralpaw really needs a friend but he's too broken, too shattered, to be fixed at this point. The hope is long lost because he knows that no being would be moronic enough to see past his shield and find their way to his inner thoughts; also, no one has ever cared enough to save him.

Inevitable.
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[short description] -- a charming silver tom with deep blue eyes

[appearance] --

cascading
falling starlight;
a hundred names for tears

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Astralpaw can be considered beautiful, but not in the way that the world seems to immediatly think when coming into contact with the word. Beauty is often recognized as something that gives deep pleasure and intense satisfaction to the senses, a meaningful design or pattern or even simply, something excellent of its kind. The young tom-cat, when looked in this way, seems to be nothing out of the ordinary -- a simple apprentice finding his way into the world.

And, being biased and having grown up to a world where this act of normality is encouraged, Astralpaw thinks that he's not special and certainly, of all things, he can not be considered good-looking, much the less beautiful. Born with a slender frame that seems more suited for a she-cat than a tom of his stature, he was often teased as a kit for not being stronger than the weakest kit and because he is, as well, not the most intelligent fool, many cats often delighted in playing tricks on young, vulnerable Astralkit. He is average at best.

He's actually not all that average, but compared to his sister, he may seems that way -- that he's just normal. In comparison to his outstanding parents, he can even be thought of as ugly. Nightcross, a lean warrior with an ebonite coat and silver stripes that placated it, was so handsome that he almost seemed to glow with every step; Kindlerose, a young she-cat when she birthed her second litter Astralkit and Oceankit, wasn't any less of an exquisite figure. With her delicate frame that paled with hues of rose beneath the ginger surface, and twinkling blue eyes, cats often stated that she was much too beautiful to be real, which in fact she was.

So when the two good-looking cats ended up together, even there pairing was quite the oddity among clans, and produced a second litter of two, surprise rippled throughout the clan at once spotting there eyes upon young Astralkit. Lanky and disproportionate in his younger years, the young tom-cat had been the object of amusement among young warriors and apprentices -- something that he certainly did not like, which evidently triggered his easy temper. Oceankit was something different all together, something that they had expected. A presence of grace and beauty, she was the only one that managed to placate her fraternal twin whenever he became angry.

When he was younger, the young tom was somewhat handsome and he still is that same charming cat, however because of his quick-temper and rash decisions, cats began to dislike him. Glancing upon his slender frame, he has a certain calm-modesty about him that seems to charm many others. If not for his personality that, locked away and defensive, turns so many away, he would be quite popular. Much like his late father, the young apprentice is quite the tom -- modestly good-looking in such a way that surely is one to be admired.

Starting out with his facial features, he sure is one heck of a cat. Bright blue pools of the darkened sea, a perfect match to his silver-lined coat, stand in the middle of his angular head - hues of pale ivory, ebonite and gray merging into one beautiful figure. With the gentle curves of a feminine cat, his cheeks are sharply outlined in a jeweled silver and washed over with ivory lines, dark ebony shadows covering the rest of his face. A small pink nose lays in the center of his delicate face, accompanied by pearly white teeth, but don't mistake the young cat a female - for if you do, you will surely get a lashing.

Many have commented him on he looks like the spitting image of his father, Nightcross, and even if the hot-headed apprentice doesn't agree, for he heatedly argues every time another one implies the fact, it is quite true. Seemingly adorning a mask of true silver, sparkled with truest of ebonies and ivory, Astralpaw is much like his father in one certain aspect that even he cannot deny if he were to see it in action. In his prime, Nightcross was a ambitious and valiant warrior, holding himself with such great pride that even the leader couldn't help but stare in awe -- the younger version of the once great warrior is exactly the same and everyone would be able to see it in him too, if not for his stubborn, steaming personality that drives too many away before they can get a closer look.

While his father has a face of pure black, flaked with paler hues of silver, the eight-moon old apprentice has a sharp face of moon-washed silver, flecked with lightest of ivories, as the form is encased in a darker ebony. His cheeks, lush and round like any other apprentice his age are the same dark shade but in the right light seemed to be sprinkled with a snowy-white hue, looking very much like freckles. [which will most likely grow into stripes as he grows older] His eyes are the deep, mesmerizing blue of his mother, rimmed with his father's silver flecks.

Astralpaw's beauty, much like his grandfather Astroblast, is much more modest than either of his parents or his sister. Nightcross was dashingly handsome, Kindledrose was daintily beautiful and Oceanpaw was simply adorable -- they held the kind of beauty that no one would be able to deny. However, if one wishes to see the beauty of the son of Nightcross, that cat would have to look much deeper. So very deep that no one is really sure if it's there or not. But it is.

When compared to others of his age, Astralpaw can be described within two terms - lean but lanky, though the latter could be something he will grow out of. When his father had been the valiant Nightpaw, the ebonite tom had a strong frame, supported by round paws and broad shoulders -- his son, on the other hand, isn't anything like that. In fact, the young tom is build on a smaller frame than most - supported by outlandishly large paws that make him stumble - and strong, semi-broad shoulders. It seems that the tom is built for endurance rather than short outbursts; his legs are long and steady, making it capable for the tom to fill each of his steps with a smooth grace that is unrivaled by many.

Because Astralpaw is none other than a blue-blooded Rootclanner, his frame is slightly elongated and aerodynamic, necessary for one to run as fast as this young tom does. Strangely enough, despite not having any LeafClan blood whatsoever, the young tom has a surprisingly slick, water-resistant coat. He is strong enough, but like most cats who were not Nightcross, he cannot survive based on sheer strength. Instead, he is the same speedy cat his mother was.

Having gotten his sharply angled face from his mother and strong jaw from his father, Astralpaw's facial features are pretty normal, if there is such a thing. He has a triangular skull, with short fur covering it. On top of his head, are two ears, standing taller that most would find in a cat his size. Tiny tufts of a fuzzy black stand upon this large ears, barely visible in the sun. His forehead slopes gently down to the tip of his red-black nose. To either side of this nose, extend great, long, ivory whiskers, which blend in with the silver facial fur that surrounds his lean frame.

Surrounding his lean, slightly longer, neck is a coat of pale ivory that seems embossed in darker lines of a silver shadow. His chest is covered in a soft, creamy white that resembles, his mother often teased, the pearly whites of a fluffy cloud. His back is dark in color, resembling the night sky in which he got his name, but sports silver-white splotches that appear to look like the shimmering stars. Just like his half-brother, Chasmfur, his build isn't all that impressive -- in the sense that it doesn't stand out. Astralpaw could care less about his looks, however, because their isn't anyone he really would like to impress -- or that he'd admit, anyway. He isn't terribly muscular like his uncle, Riverblaze, or admirably lean like his cousin, Foxglove. In fact, the young apprentice best resembles his half brother, Chasmfur, who was quite stream-lined and slender, but not enough for him to be mistaken as a she-cat.

Moving on, Astralpaw has somewhat longer limbs that he will surely grow into, supported by a sleek, slender silver banner. His small paws, coated with a glowing ivory that fade to a darkened black, are often coated in a dusty layer of sand or water because, being the young cat he is, he enjoys running around and enjoying every nook and cranny in and out of camp. His off-black legs, coated with fainter stripes, are long and lanky, granting him with the advantage of being quicker and limber than most of his clanmates.

And everyone thinks, upon first glance, that he is a wonderful tom with dashingly-good looks that's just enough to steal any she-cats breath away, but they take a second look and him and flee; why is that anyway? It doesn't matter, though, because young Astralpaw seems to be convinced that he is thoroughly and irrevocably the average tom. Clearly.
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fall on me
tell me everything you want me to be

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[history] --

we danced under the stars,
as if there was no tomorrow and no today

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it was in the middle of leaf-green, and the air around them was supposed to be as hot and dry and humid as it had been the morning prior. instead the night was starless, a sheet of black stretched overhead, and the air was cool, edged with a frosty touch. the wind whistled past the nursery, winding around and through the brambles that protected it -- smoothly, it whisked around the bend and suddenly made a dive downwards, the gust whirling around a figure.
he looked up, the wind gushing across his face. though his face was blank, his eyes were blue and you could see the stars in his eyes.

there was always something about astralpaw that confused cats even from the date of his even more complicated birth.
his half-brother, a smooth-furred warrior named chasmfur, had a relatively normal birth. born from creamwhisker and nightcross, there were no complications at all. the only kit of his litter, he got all the attention from his mother and for quite a while, from his father too.
however, for astralpaw it was quite different.
in addition to whatever intricate factors surrounded his birth, there was something about nightcross and kindlerose, as well as their sudden coupling, that never had settled well with rootclan. not even then.

• — • — • — • — • — • — • — • — • — • — • — •

riverkit was an orphan, but when he was taken in by shadowblaze and softwhisker, there wasn't a soul who would argue that he was anything less than another one of their biological sons. they were family-oriented cats and happily accepted him -- the black-patched tom with no orgins and an impure birth, but a heart that was purer than gold.
nightkit - their only real son - was confused at first as to who this kit was. he was two-moons old and had known nothing but his older brothers and sisters. the young kit was smart and charming and wonderful -- he had not thought he needed anything else.
but riverkit completed him, touched him in a place he did not know existed, and suddenly they were brothers in the purest sense, side by side, together in both heart and mind.

on the other side of the nursery, existed a bond that was quite similar to the two toms -- but cleaner,easier; not that, of course, it was any less in intensity. Watertouch, a soft-pelted she-cat with gray fur and lake-water eyes, raised her kit, Bluekit, as a single mother beautifully. Soon enough, she found herself raising another kit: a pretty little kit with pealing silver laughter and sparkling blue eyes much like her own. She took her under her wing without protest and not one she-cat doubted she was not her daughter.
Kindledkit's own mother, Silverstep, had not been able to carry enough milk for her daughter and soon reclaimed her position as one of BranchClan's most quiet warriors. Her foster father, Firesky, died in a battle within days of her birth and Bluekit's own father, Darkblaze, died alongside him. The two toms, who had been best friends and brothers since birth, now had kits who would - hopefully - carry on that tradition.

Having used the word "foster" father to describe, someone might wonder what that would mean. Kindledkit looked nothing like Firesky with his fire-spark coat and crystal-blue eyes. To be honest, however, she did not look particularly like her mother Silverstep either, with the exception of the same delicate, slender frame. Kindledkit, with her soft coat and fiery eyes, did not look much like the solemn, solitary Darkblaze (her uncle) either, who had dark blue-russian fur and onyx eyes like the color of the night.

If anything, she looked like the warrior Pyrestone -- a shadowy tom with classic red-tabby stripes underneath even dark amber. Scars lined the majority of his pelt, his face a pleasant mask of white darkness, but it was his smirk that either made cats love him or hate him -- dark, devious, mysterious, calculating. Pyrestone had been, once upon a time, Firesky and Darkblaze's close friend and in matters of biological terms, all three of them shared the same father but three different mothers.

Pyrestone had a son named Earthkit with dark brown fur and murky silver-brown eyes, much like Silverstep. Silverstep was a light brown tabby with darker swirls and warm caramel eyes the color chocolate, with flecks of softer gray-blue. He had his father's hard jaw and muscular frame, a feature easily distinguished among the rest of the toms in his clan.

The truth was this -- Pyrestone, always the one to have his way with the ladies, ended up impregnating Silverpaw, just a few days before her warrior ceremony. No one suspected the dark deed of the confident, clever warrior who, cats hoped, would some day become deputy. After the deed was done, Pyrestone discarded her. She hid this well until her warrior ceremony and using her head, became friendly with the only tom in the clan who was interested her -- Firesky.

She had always liked Firesky, to be honest, with his contagious laughter and teasing banter, but Pyrestone had reached her first. She did not really want to consort with the mysterious tom, at first, but his smooth words and honey tongue had caught her. In the end, however, Silverstep had wished she could erase the whole night -- but there was this living creature in her belly now who would, in later moons, mewl and cry and call her "mommy" in such a pitiful way that Silverstep could not help but love her.

Firesky never knew that his mate was carrying his half-brother's kits and if he knew, he would have probably not cared either. It wasn't her fault and anyway, Silverstep loved him and not his foxdung brother. She told him every day and meant it.

• — • — • — • — • — • — • — • — • — • — • — •

It might as well be said now that, from the start, Kindledkit did not hold any such fondness for either of the toms in the nursery - there were the only four of them - and often preferred to be by herself, with bluekit or silverstep. she held a certain disdain for nightkit in particular, even with his smoldering eyes and charming face, but no one could fathom as to why.

it did not matter anyway -- nightkit did not like her much either. he was a kit who preferred to be by himself and it was often necessary for bluekit to pry him from their mother in order to go play in the clearing. nightkit was a solitary feline for the most part and kindledkit's natural charisma irked him.

he thought this for a majority of their childhood and preferred not to hang around when Kindledkit would come over to Bluekit, who was a moon older than her. At first, it seemed as if among the three of them - bluekit, nightkit and riverkit - that Kindledkit was the third wheel, but as he would realize in his warirorhood, it was in fact, not only that Kindledrose did not belong but he did not belong either.

Even in kithood, Bluekit and Riverkit fit together like two pieces in a puzzle -- even their names were similar! both derived from watery features, they shared the same fluid, languid frame and both were slightly larger than most cats; they also stood somewhere above the average, with their secret smile and easy routine, they seemed almost perfect. as kits, he would tease her about one thing or another and she'd glare; as adolecents, he would joke casually, but also dirtily, and she'd hit him; as warriors, he'd say something unknowingly hurtful and she'd smack him hard.

Bluekit, Riverkit and Nightkit all became apprentices on the same evening, while Kindledkit was forced to wait another moon -- not that it bothered her though. Although she liked her 'sister', she could do without the other two toms, one of which was not serious enough and the other who was too serious. On the crisp new-leaf evening, the breezes blowing against their faces, they became Bluepaw, Riverpaw and Nightpaw.

• — • — • — • — • — • — • — • — • — • — • — •

Nightpaw's training with his mentor, Shadowclaw, was not easy, nor particularly difficult. On the first day, Nightpaw had looked up at the whtie she-cat and her chilling onyx eyes, wondering if he had the right cat -- cats with the "shadow" prefix usually were black in color, somthing like himself, but she was white. Then she shifted, revealing an onyx swirl along her foreleg, and touched his nose, which was also black, and he saw, eyes widening, a ebony tattoo printed between her ears. It looked like two claws clashing.

her method of training was different, to say the least. it was certainly stricter than most - lasting till sunrise and sundown with no breaks - and the way in which she instructed, seriously and unmoving unlike the laughing mentors of both bluepaw and riverpaw, was nothing like the others. however, nightpaw accepted her with ease and followed each of her instructions - which would often vary from normalcy in the way that no one would expect - without protest.

because of his trust in her and his ability to follow these lessons throughly, nightpaw soon became a warrior in the three moons she was able to train him. of course, he was not officially labeled "warrior" as a title since he was still young and developing, but the quietness in his gaze and the simple energy in them told everyone that he had seen farther than any other apprentice his age, that he held the wisdom, the same nobleness and strength, of any warrior that was three times his age.

even in the last days of her death, she instructed him and for that, shadowclaw made a fantastic mentor for someone like nightpaw. she died from a small bout of whitecough which turned into greencough because she refused to have it treated. soon enough, nightpaw's mentorship was given to a small, timid tom named whitepatch. the tom was dark in color with pale eyes and it was not only in appearance that shadowclaw and whitepatch differed, but in personality too. he was quiet and soft. soon, whitepatch became more of an apprentice then nightpaw was.


[role-playing example] -- look at fallenstar's bio, please. <3
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forever with you forever in me
ever the same

_{[ever the same by rob thomas]}

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