pafp CORAL CROWN | open

[CHRYSALISWING]

Chrysaliswing flitted through the settling gloom of a late afternoon's indolence, as though the darkness had drooped over the pines and the alders as a pall, a shroud of shadow to keep springtide sun at bay. The chimaeric warrior did enjoy this weather, as it wasn't too hot and wasn't too chilly. The breeze played at his pelt, whisked through the whiskers and winding strands. But even the day could not bay his anger. There was an irritation that sparked through the tom's purling pelage, though it was more than normal for perpetually-pissed-off, like he wore his ire and his wrath as a brandish upon flame-brushed coat. It was evident upon his downturned face, his stalking posture, and his tense quietude. Whiskers twitched as his concentration zeroed in on a curling trail of scent, leading right into the somber shades of a crooning bough, bowed downwards as if to shelter whatever had made its sanctuary there. A mouse. It must be around here somewhere... Blinking, Chrysaliswing glanced about as he calculated how to reach his prey, envisioning his fangs closing onto the paper-thin windpipe of the rodent.

Cherryblossom, the newly appointed deputy (much to Chrysalis' chagrin), had said something to him, though all the half-toned tom could focus on was the focus fading from him as he lost his grip on it. She had told him something rather loudly and proudly, though he paid little heed to whatever it was. Did she think she could boss him around, just because she had become the deputy of the clan? Low growl escaped his muzzle, like his defiance had bubbled from his gut and burst through his maw, for his emotions proved too great and too tumultuous to ever keep within himself for long. "I'm not taking anything from a cat who was only appointed deputy because she's her mother's special little girl who gets everything she ever asks for." Heterochromatic gaze turned towards the calico, though he dared not approach her, as morose verse was usually enough for him. Then, he turned back to the ensnared scent trail. Don't think you're better than me just because Orangestar's someone important. I'm not listening to a cat who was an apprentice not even a moon ago.

𝘯𝘰 𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘴 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘦 ⚠︎ 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘰𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘷𝘦

• Please wait for @Cherryblossom !
  
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  —— CHRYSALISWING / He/They / 24 Moons
  —— Warrior of Skyclan / Mentoring n/a
  —— A long-haired tomcat with chimaeric patterning. His left side is fully black and his right side is black splotched with sunset-orange. He has complete heterochromia, with his right eye being a bright green and his left eye being a glowering yellow.
  —— Abrasive, temperamental, and critical. Approach at your own risk and engage at your own cost. Despite this, he is a hard worker and quick to call out what he finds wrong.
  —— Penned by Tempest. Contact on Discord (naruk4mi) for plots and threads.

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[Cherryblossom]

The low warning dripping from Chrysaliswing's maw, the faint promise of blood, takes her aback. Mismatched ears pin back for a moment, high tail sagging some, before she remembers herself and her rank. The silk bough of her tail lashes thickly as the chimera raises his head, acidic two-tones blaring displeasure from the dark hollows of his skull. "What?" The snap, defensive, is slotted quickly into the breawth between his glare and his voice.

This time, her flattened ears remain so, and the fires along her spine begin to prickle. "All I asked you to do was get some moss for the nursery," the calico crackles. "Is that so wrong to y—hey! Are you turning away from me?" Outrage, petulant and venomous, flares in the pit of her belly. One long stride brings her to the warrior's forefront, a sleek bulwark of white suddenly standing right on his scent trail.

Fully-grown, Cherryblossom does not tower over Chrysalis' ordinary form. Still, she uses the full extent of their meager height difference as she stares him down, daring him to succumb to that momentary anger. "Sorry you're too blind to see what Orangestar sees," she sneers, drowning the tiny heads of doubt in a deluge of acerbity. I haven't gotten everything I've asked for! the kit inside insists. What about Little Wolf? Spiderpaw? Ashenclaw? The names of the dead, scrawled on scraps of paper and crumpled hapzardly, are unceremoniously tossed in the flame trail of her stubborn streak.

TAGS​

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[FIGFEATHER]

Camp has been tense the past few days. After ThunderClan, the promotion of Cherryblossom, and the deaths of Dandelionwish and Applefrost a gloom washed over SkyClan. She could hardly blame everyone, all these changes were difficult to swallow, and among all the drama Figfeather had her own interpersonal issues. Fantastream no longer being her mate still rests heavy on her heart and the grief for her lost apprentice, Wolfpaw, still caused knots in her belly. On top of that, she was watching over her distressed and grieving sister who had just lost her mate.

The state of SkyClan hasn't been this chaotic since green-cough plagued them nearly a full twelve moons ago. Figfeather is still waiting for the purpose of the hole in the sun last moon to come out and bite them, or was this it? Had StarClan been warning them of the chaos and disruption that was now settling upon them?

She is disrupted by her swirling thoughts by the voice of Chrysaliswing, berating the newly named deputy. Figfeather instinctively lurches to defend Cherryblossom- she'd argue with the tortie tom-cat happily. Instead, by some StarClan blessed miracle, she remains frozen where she stands. She wants to know how Cherryblossom will handle this, will she tuck tail and run? Will she allow herself to fall victim to the warrior? Or will she let her fur bristle and spit right back at him?

She finds herself pleased with Cherryblossom's crackling and sneering. Figfeather watches Chrysaliswing, curious if he'll resign or turn around to hiss further insults. One thing was for sure, her respect in Cherryblossom would increase if she managed to combat the fire breathed right in her direction.

♡ INFO BATTLE

• 
  » Figfeather
  » SkyClan Lead Warrior
  » She/her . AMAB
  » Sire to Sangriapaw & Coffeepaw
  » Mentoring Daisypaw
  » A red tabby she-cat with a mangled leg.
  » ”Speech”․ thoughts ․ attack
  
• 
  » A foe in battle whose ability to strategize can shift tides.
  » Excels in strategizing and pre-planning her battles.
  » Fights defensively and to aid her clan to victory.
  » May powerplay minor harm. Can powerplay healing

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[SLATE]

Even as the new deputy's former mentor, Slate had mixed opinions on Cherryblossom being promoted so soon after her warrior ceremony. Perhaps if the circumstances were different, this would be something to gloat about — his apprentice, the cat he had molded and sculpted, being chosen as SkyClan's future leader. But... this did not sit right with the Maine Coon. Cherryblossom had not been chosen based on proven skill, experience, and merit. In fact, he's still not even sure on what basis she was chosen, which he and the council would hopefully discuss. Slate had not taken Ora as the type of cat to engage with nepotism, but it's an uncomfortable thought that nags at the back of his mind.

So when other SkyClanners begin to publicly state their minds on Cherryblossom's promotion, even right to her face, Slate cannot bring himself to necessarily defend her... or at least defend Orangestar's decision. It did not feel right to him to leave her high and dry, either — to turn his back on the cat he had trained for six moons and leave her to fend for herself. She was young and foolish, bound to make mistakes. Slate wasn't going to keep her from making them, but maybe she could stand to take a word of advice.

Stepping forth from near Figfeather where he had been spectating, Slate grunts, "You can't earn a cat's respect overnight. Only time will tell if you're worthy of it." Time and actions, he should add. Would Cherryblossom shape up to be a decent deputy, after all? Would she be a cat of her word, serving SkyClan dutifully and to the best of her ability? Slate finds it difficult to think so at the moment, as young and inexperienced as she was, but maybe Orangestar would teach her daughter a thing or two about being a deputy. She had been an extremely competent second-in-command to Blazestar, so Slate had to at least rely on the leader's ability to guide Cherryblossom on her journey. Slate had only taken her so far with practical skills like hunting and fighting; he could not instruct her on how to eventually lead a clan. Hell, Slate couldn't even imagine himself in Cherryblossom's paws. It wasn't something that he desired, being responsible for the wellbeing of the clan and being diplomatic and wise and all of that.

But, maybe Chrysaliswing was an exception to the whole "respect" thing. He had always been a punk, even as an apprentice. Obviously, he hadn't changed much. In fact, Chrysaliswing was more insufferable than his former mentor. At least Silversmoke had a brain to back up his words; Slate wouldn't be surprised if a bunch of rat turds populated the chimera's skull. "Don't waste your energy on cats who only know how t' run their mouths." His eyes narrow slightly, letting his words linger for Cherryblossom to digest. Now, what would she do?

₊ ⋆ * ⊹ ₊ ☾ —— 𝙅𝙐𝙎𝙏 𝙉𝙀𝙀𝘿 𝘼 𝘽𝙄𝙏 𝙊𝙁 𝙇𝙐𝘾𝙆, 𝙂𝙀𝙏 '𝙀𝙈 𝙐𝙋

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  ₊ ⋆ * ⊹ ₊ ☾

  slate
  

  — he/him; lead warrior of skyclan
  — a hulking, scarred charcoal-black colored maine coon with amber eyes
  — "speech", thoughts, attack
  — link to full tags; @ on discord or dm @beaaats for plots!​

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[Honeysplash]

It was like everyone was in free-fall mode. No one knew what was going on, no one was questioning anything- it was all so- strange. Cherryblossom had been promoted much to everyone’s shock only to follow the deaths of Dandelionwish and their sister, Applefrost. Now everyone walked like eggshells littered the ground and one wrong move could set off a domino effect in a way. One bad thing after another and it was starting to feel like this was going to be a horrible new-leaf into green leaf.

There was then voices from camp and they looked up from where they had been crouch in sun. They had been feeling rather tired and very awfully sick with food being the main enemy it seemed. So they had hoped some sun light would make them feel better but it was rather uneventful to say the least. Regardless, the voices belonged to their niece as she defended herself against- Chrysaliswing.

They hadnt spoken since Honeysplash told him of the kits, since he ran away from them days prior. Though should they really be surprised? The tom had a knack for picking the worst fights with everyone and anyone around him. The cream warrior felt this surge to speak up and defend her niece, but Figfeather was also nearby and Slate spoke up instead. The young patched cat flicked back their ears and adverted their gaze down to their paws.

Against their better judgement they found themselves speaking, “I’m sure Orangestar had her reasons for her decision” They assured Cherryblossom and glanced to the chimera tomcat before back to her delved niece, “Like Slate said, it’ll take time but im sure you’ll do exceptional”

Speech​

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━ TOYHOUSE ━ BIOGRAPHY ━ SKYCLAN WARRIOR ━ TWENTY NINE MOONS​

 

[CHRYSALISWING]

The defensive "what?!" fell on almost-deaf ears, as was customary for those besieged by his lashing tongue, for it was normal for a hit beast to cry out in pain. In fact,the chimaeric tomcat had hoped that she would fall into the easy trap of instant rebuttal, of karmic satisfaction to be lapped up thirstily. It certainly did not make her look any more mature nor qualified for the deputy role. Immediately did snow-white overtake his field of vision, and heterochromatic gaze angled slightly upwards to meet Cherryblossom's smoldering glare, of which his own coal eyes sputtered out fury. She stood just a hair taller than he, but size differentials hardly bothered the flame-brushed feline. "Tell me, what exactly does Orangeblossom see in appointing a deputy that, just a moon or so ago, was training underneath a warrior?" Chrysaliswing growled with half-toned face matching his ire, like wrinkles and curves curdled in his umbrage, broiling and bending beneath the weight. Melting metal of his heart swirled and swam along iron veins and steel bone. He wasn't about to let an actual child (in his eyes) get the last laugh. "Get out of my way."

He attempted to push past the newly-made deputy, with a rough brush against her shoulder for good measure, his anger blinding him to any possible consequences that could result from the altercation. The warrior hadn't a direction as to where he would go - perhaps just somewhere where he could clear his mind and not think about the absolutely idiotic decision to appoint such an ill-tempered molly to the council. Then again, he was hardly any better. He turned his head back to spot Slate, Figfeather, and Honeysplash saying something about what he had done, but there was little time nor space for him to bemoan further, like he had already filled the empty air with his smokestack breath. Those were some of the cats that he wished he weren't anywhere near, but fatewas often cruel to him, just as he was cruel to it. He continued walking away, feathery tail trailing behind him, with a gait one could only describe as 'arrogant.' Whatever she did next, he knew it would only fulfill the mental image of her that he had already plastered onto his brain.

𝘯𝘰 𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘴 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘦 ⚠︎ 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘰𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘷𝘦

• He's not out yet, he's still able to be interacted with! / IC opinions ofc
  
• 
• 

  —— CHRYSALISWING / He/They / 24 Moons
  —— Warrior of Skyclan / Mentoring n/a
  —— A long-haired tomcat with chimaeric patterning. His left side is fully black and his right side is black splotched with sunset-orange. He has complete heterochromia, with his right eye being a bright green and his left eye being a glowering yellow.
  —— Abrasive, temperamental, and critical. Approach at your own risk and engage at your own cost. Despite this, he is a hard worker and quick to call out what he finds wrong.
  —— Penned by Tempest. Contact on Discord (naruk4mi) for plots and threads.

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