Duskfall

A stern, hardened tomcat with a strong sense of loyalty and honour. Scarred with horrors of the past, he's learned to accept where he came from and move on in the best way he can. Even if it still haunts him to this day.

Name: Duskfall Clan: Thunderclan Role: Elite Guard Gender: Tomcat Age: 68 moons (just under 6 years) Breed: Purebred maine coon Sexuality: Gay (closeted) with no attraction to she cats. Appearance: A very large, black-furred main coon tom who dons a large dark scar that bisects his left eye, snaking down his face, leaving him half blind, with many more adorning his body. One in particular rakes down the side of his flank, which, despite his thick coat, still presents itself to any cat that would brave getting close enough to him. Despite his mostly jet-black coat, small markings can be spotted standing out against his fur if he stood in the sunlight. A cat known for his ever-present scowl and grumpy looks, his eyes are the colour of stormy water.

Personality: Duskfall is a strong-willed and stubbourn cat who values loyalty and trust. He has an impenetrable sense of justice that has been hardened by his many moons of turmoil, betrayal, and newfound belonging in his clan. He’s on the calmer side and owns a gentle but, albeit gruff, sarcastic sense of humour. He has a natural scowl and sense of protectiveness that he inflicts upon his clan. Dustfall is prone to be quite brutish when he, or someone he deems worthy to protect, is in distress, however despite this, and his emotional scars to bear, he becomes rather gentle and worried about those he’s close with. Around strangers, he can be seen as very blunt or even passive-aggressive, and for the most part, he is, 100%. With this, though, he has learned to enjoy his life and his friends. He prefers to handle things without violence, but is prone to silent resentment and snapping if he is pushed. With his large size, he’d been conditioned not to abuse that power, often lowering his head to speak with clanmates, and fully dropping to his forepaws to speak with kits. This behavior can be easily broken when he wishes to intimidate or simply can’t help but take advantage of his stormy blue gaze, which is said to stare daggers as cold as the moonlight itself when he so pleases.

Backstory: Duskfall came into this world during a time of war. A period where ambushes and violent bloodshed between clans were at its peak. This tom was born within the thick dark marshland of ShadowClan, mothered by a beautiful and diplomatic calico warrior known for her cunningness, as well as her kindness; a rare trait among the cats of the shadowy clan. Roseflower was her name. His father, on the other hand, was from a clan that was heavily debated, but everyone knew his name. Daityahan. Little is known about how he came to father Duskfall or from which clan he hailed. All that was known was that he was a beast. A cruel and characteristically brutish cat. He was known to have led a band of warriors that had been seen attacking all four clans—blaming, tormenting, and ambushing every poor cat they came in contact with. He carried the scent of no rouge, however. Only the scent of blood followed him. The tyrant of a maine coon was around long enough that every clan had stories of the freak of nature that plagued the clans during their most vulnerable moment. Then suddenly one cold night, he vanished. Gone without a trace. Not even a body. Even less is known about who had slayed the horrible beast, “The one who StarClan abandoned”, they called him—but all that is known, is that only a single moon after his reign was extinguished, Roseflower gave birth to two kits. One, a beautiful rosey ginger girl who was a spitting image of her mother, and a boy who had a pelt so black it looked like a black hole against his mother’s warm red one, and bore a striking resemblance to a certain tyrant they knew all too well. This kit was named ”Dustkit”, while his sister was named "Petalkit". Because of the striking resemblance to both Daityahan, and Roseflower's mate, Thrushstep, split evenly, the entire clan assumed that the kits were half siblings. Born from the same mother, and different fathers entirely.

When they were born, their mother did everything she could to shelter Dustkit and the truth of his conception, but all it took was one look at the kit, and they knew… he was his. His mother, despite herself, was indeed a fierce warrior, so she kept her clanmates in check who did not approve of Dustkit’s existence for a long while. Petalkit was well loved by the clan, looking like the perfect cross between her mother and her mate, a respected warrior and the deputy of Shadowclan, though Petalkit was very stern on never leaving her half-brother's side. They grew to be about 11 moons when no more could be done for Roseflower. By this time, she had grown very ill and weak, no longer was she able to protect her little boy. With this, and the half siblings becoming apprentices, Petalpaw felt it was her duty to protect her brother, and stand up for him at all costs. She was certainly a fiery one, she. Her strong will and sense of justice often led her into trouble, but if you asked her, she wouldn't regret one thing. That is one thing Dustpaw admired about his sister. But this intuition, would soon lead Petalpaw to her untimely passing. One a one brutal leaf-fall, green-cough had plagued Shadowclan, claiming life after life. Some said it was HIS genes who kept Dustpaw alive, being ill with green-cough for almost two whole moons when the sickness usually claimed lives in little less than seven sunhighs, but either way, it was Petalpaw who, despite herself left the clan all alone to fetch more herbs for her dying clan. Come sunrise, the little apprentice returned with fatal wounds delivered by what anyone could see as a badger. She collapsed in the middle of the camp, bloodied herbs clenched in her maw. The herbs were enough to save her brother and more, though she ultimately died due to her injuries the following moon-high. Dustpaw was utterly heartbroken, mourning the loss of his sister for many, many suns. Without her sister to protect him anymore, fending for himself was much, MUCH harder, the following moons. He had hit his lowest, fully believing that a life of being hated and beaten and shunned from his clan would be all his life would ever be, until one fateful night, Dustpaw, in all his apprenticeship, was betrayed. Tricked by his clan’s warriors (without his mentor’s nor sister's knowledge) into running straight into a planned RiverClan ambush. This night is when he earned his deepest scars that decorate his face and his flank. Forevermore, a reminder of how his mere existence was deemed a curse upon his clan. Bloodied to near death, and the line bordering StarClan and life slowly blurring, just then, a ThunderClan patrol planned to attack that very same RiverClan patrol, which emerged from the flora, overpowering the latter clan. In the mess of blood and claw and fur, an older warrior of ThunderClan stumbled over the body of the trembling black cat. Amidst the yowls and screeches of battle in the pale moonlight, the warrior dragged the apprentice away and to a safe cage of brush to be hidden until the skirmish had ended. The next thing Dustpaw knew, he was curled up in the medicine den of a foreign clan, poultice caking his face and his body. It took him many, many moons to recover, and during that time, he’d met his savior. A senior Elite Guard named Stormbreak. With the leader’s permission, StarClan’s blessing, and a great show of trust, the injured, frail tomcat was accepted into ThunderClan. He adopted a new name, it being his only wish with becoming part of ThunderClan, and from that point forward, he was known as Duskpaw. With that, he was taken under the wing of Stormbreak, the worn, white-furred guard becoming more than a mentor for him. His training was… rough to say the least. He became a warrior very, very late, being among the oldest of apprentices to become a warrior at 16 moons. Stormbreak had passed away just two sunrises prior. He did not get to see his little apprentice become a warrior. Through his years of shameful glares, distrusting murmurs, and much, much to prove, Duskfall has made himself an established warrior, and his loyalty lies solely with the cats of Thunderclan. He’s become a very well-respected warrior and an excellent protector, bringing the clan a feeling of safety. The horror stories of his father and his band of barbarians slowly faded from the maws of each clan, and Duskfall has learned to move on from his past. He misses his sister dearly, and thinks of her often, though he finds solace knowing that she, and his mother are both looking down at him from StarClan, waiting very patiently for the day the he would join them, and so many of the friends he's lost. Despite his appearance and demeanor seeming to stick out amongst his sunny forest clan, he feels at home and dares not to stalk down the same path his father did.

Mentor / Apprentice: His previous mentor in ShadowClan, (now deceased) was named Groveheart, and honourable lean tabby warrior. His ThunderClan mentor was, of course, Stormbreak, (also deceased) the fluffy white senior warrior. He has mentored only two apprentices before, the first a fiery tortoiseshell shecat named Yarrowpaw (now named Yarrowtail), and after that, a scrawny tuxedo tom named Flintpaw (now named Flintfeather). It has been about 16 moons since he's last mentored anyone.

Mate / Kits: He’s never had a mate, so he's never had kits but silently wants a kit of his own dearly.

Abilities / Strengths: Dustfall is known to particularly excel at combat, both offensive and defensive, which makes him a great warrior and a treacherous opponent. Despite his large size, he can also hunt fairly well. Not the greatest, of course, because of his long coat that rustles every leaf and massive paws that crunch every stick they fall upon, but he does manage the best he can. His bite is particularly nasty, being notorious for being able to bring a swift end to any trespassing cats that come his way. Despite his short temper, he is very cunning as well. All of this is due to his experience, of course, as he was very much not as insightful a warrior as he is now.

Weaknesses / Flaws: He is a strong and dependable warrior; this is true, but he does, in fact, bear many emotional scars, leading him to lash out or crumble in on himself when faced with direct emotional impact. When overwhelmed, and when things really get under his fur, he is prone to making brash decisions that often get his friends and those around him hurt in the process. He doesn’t handle emotions very well, as he’s been more than hardened by his dismal life. Along with this, his large size makes it hard to hide or sneak around if it is not night or in a heavily shadowed area. There is also the fact that he is completely blind in his left eye, which makes his vision considerable worse, and makes his susceptible to blind spots, but his other eye is as sharp as a hawks, so he finds ways to manage in both battle, and everyday life.

Rivalries / Friendships: He's relatively good friends with everyone in ThunderClan, having great bonds, but only have a few close friends. Other than that, he keeps himself rather closed off, and doesn't really try to be anything more than a protector to the others. (He has a permanent quiet resentment for all RiverClan cats, and is… indifferent about ShadowClan.)

Roleplay Hooks / Goals: Duskfall has many stories to tell about his time in the forest, and is determined to serve his clan with all he’s got. This tom would be more than honoured to be a supporting wall for any cat that needs it. He is easily flustered and susceptible to flirting + being notoriously horrible at it, which puts him in a few awkward, but albeit strangely charming positions. His goals would be to never lose sight of what he’s fighting for, and eventually, very, very slowly, learn to love again.