private got those evil eyes // ghostkit

[✧ Siltcloud.]

THERE'S A HOLE IN MY SOUL ( CAN YOU FILL IT ? )
siltcloud | 14 months | female | she/her | physically medium | mentally hard | attack in bold #905d5d

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Siltcloud has been watching. This in of itself is nothing odd, nothing strange, nothing out of the ordinary - she's a quiet feline, withdrawn from the others now that she has graduated from being her brothers second shadow. But it is who she is watching that matters. It starts as curiosity as an idle pastime - she cannot fathom what could possibly make starlingheart of interest to granitepelt, cannot see why he tolerates her out of all of brairstars bloodline, when they'd loathed the lot of them until now. A wonder of what it must be like, to bear kits, to pass on your bloodline so assuredly - when loampelt was still to busy thinking. And then it's turned into something more - seeing herself, seeing what, perhaps, she could've been. The child does not have the pretty to look at gaze of her namesake, but there is something inhuman about those eyes. she likes it.

So she waits, patiently, until the childs parents are busy, until she is alone - and isn't that concerning? Slight figure slinks very, dull green gaze flicking up to deadlock onto blue - expression dull, blank, lifeless. but it all hides something more - a cold glint she can no longer fully contain, fully hide from prying eyes. "Hello ghostkit," she says - a quiet greeting to the niece she has decided to claim as her favorite - hers, the only tolerable one of the bunch. Because ghostkit would be someone someday, she knows it well.

// @GHOSTKIT
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[GHOSTMASK]

†—— ghostkit is playing alone in some secluded corner of camp, as she often is. she is young, and her ability to conceal the distaste that rises in her throat like bile when she interacts with her clanmates is still developing—she's found it easier to fake when she gets time to herself as well. her mother is busy with some errand or task of her healer role or another, and well—granitepelt is never near her when he can help it. so, here she is, tracing odd shapes in the muddy ground of camp idly amongst the ferns. she likes it here, in this shadowy corner, where nobody can see her. or so she thinks.

slinking pawsteps in the muddy ground, a quiet voice in greeting; dull green eyes meet her own when she looks up with a quick snake-twist of her neck, as though she's been caught doing something wrong instead of playing in the mud. her aunt, then; siltcloud, all dull fur and duller eyes, colors like nettlekit but somehow less. she fixes the warrior with an appraising gaze, sharp and burrowing with its dark intensity, all too analytical for such a young child. an ugly thing, her aunt, she thinks without much emotion; all scrawny limbs and dull colors and a kinked tail, nothing like the beauty afforded her by her father's sharp face or her mother's beautiful features. still she returns the greeting, tone sweet without much effort, "hi, aunt siltcloud."

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┏━•†˚୨୧⋆ OOC ꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷ INFORMATION ⋆୨୧˚†•━━━━━┓ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ♡ ༘*.ﾟ

• ooc: ——
  

• 

• † ghostkit — named after the deceased ghostpaw she/her ; afab cisgender female — shadowclan — kit — 2 ☾s —— ghostkit is the daughter of the soft-spoken medicine cat starlingheart and her possessive mate, granitepelt. she looks just like her mother, and while she can be a little difficult, there's nothing really wrong with her ...... right? —— smells like milk, herbs, and .... iron? ; sounds like tbd ; speech in #EB80B7 ; thoughts in #253DC6 —— peaceful / healing powerplay permitted ; attacks/contact in underline ; won’t start fights ; will flee ; will show mercy ; won't kill or maim (kitten) —— too young for romance ; open to enemies, "friends", tormenting other kits, plotting ; not open to battles, romance penned by dejavu— desklamp9 on discord for plots

• shhh don't look here (battle info will go here at some point)

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[✧ Siltcloud.]

♡​♡ SOLD HER SOUL AT SEVENTEEN ♡♡​

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siltcloud & 14 moons & female & she/her & shadowclan warrior​

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Siltcloud is just as cold in her own opinions - se finds ghostkit hard to look at really, with her white face and black fur. Too much like her mother - like all of briarstars line. But she's polite at least - and really, it's a surprise. Her brother has always been blunt and rude - this child is not. "What are you playing today?" she asks, head tipping to the side as she sits, tail wrapping around her paws. A safe topic for now, to get to know the kin she'd thought she'd hate. But she doesn't, and she's fascinated.

— a beautiful and broken mess ♥

• Actions && "Speech," && ' Thoughts/Quotes '
  
  ooc: —
  tw/cw: —
  
• 
  — a dust hued cinnamon tabby with white markings and sage green eyes. her fur is dull and unkept, her figure frail and slight. she's usually quite passive, and rarely makes eye contact or speaks above a whisper. she has five toes upon all four paws.
  
  — physically medium && mentally hard
  — non-violent powerplay allowed && healing powerplay allowed && minor injury powerplay not-allowed
  — please attack using [b][color=#905d5d]action here[/color][/b] and tag account

 

[GHOSTMASK]

†—— ghostkit fixes dark eyes on her aunt's white-marked face, blue eyes dancing across the planes of her expression to read it, as she's learned to do. she knows siltcloud is her father's sister, not that she usually knows much about her father at all. she knows she has a lot of family, living and dead, by her mother, but siltcloud appears to be the only living member on granitepelt's side. as such, the masked she-kit supposes she must learn to tolerate the dull-furred thing she calls an aunt.

after a short pause she shuffles her paws in the dirt, careful to keep them away from the idle shapes she's been drawing in the mud. she mimics siltcloud and sits, wraps her tufted white tail around her two-toned forepaws as pointed black ears flick in consideration. "just playing in the mud. drawing things, nonsense things," she replies, tone silken and sweet, pausing to think on her next reply. a white-dipped head tilts as she appraises siltcloud. her aunt's passive demeanor, dull mussed fur—who would listen to her? "i don't really like playing with the other kits. they're all ... they don't have a use. they're not important," she confides with a flick of her neatly curled tail, blinking up at her aunt.

I WILL CARVE MY WAY OUT (†) 𝑾𝑰𝑻𝑯 𝑶𝑵𝑳𝒀 𝑴𝒀 𝑻𝑬𝑬𝑻𝑯

• ooc: SO late sorry </3
  
• disclaimer: it is extremely important to note that ghostkit is an exceptionally cruel and immoral cat and her actions and thoughts do not reflect my own opinions as a writer. the way she behaves and thinks is morally reprehensible, and i do not condone these actions outside of roleplay in any way. she may refer to other cats in demeaning ways, including as "things", and this is not an attempt to oocly dehumanize anyone's character, but a reflection of her unfortunate outlook on the world.
  
  ghostkit is also a budding skilled manipulator who is already very good at concealing her true feelings. as such, other characters will generally not be able to detect the fact that she's falsifying her behavior unless it's specifically noted in the post to be visible. this includes "gut feelings", "intuition", or suspicion with no ic basis.
  
  again, all opinions & thoughts are ic only and do not reflect my thoughts and opinions as a writer.
• 
  — ghostkit
  — she/her ; kit of shadowclan ; 3 ☾s
  — "speech" ; thoughts ; attacks
  — penned by dejavu
  

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[✧ Siltcloud.]

♡​♡ SOLD HER SOUL AT SEVENTEEN ♡♡​

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siltcloud & 15 moons & female & she/her & shadowclan warrior​

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The molly cannot help it- she laughs, the sound slipping out before she can stop it, lilting and much louder than it should be. She's been proven right, she thinks - an undertone of smugness coiling through her. The child that her brother has cast aside as useless by simple namesake alone, has proved better. She knows he's petty, a brash feline who'd slaughtered his mentor over simple slights (though really, can she say now that she wouldn't have done the same, had the dogs not gotten to flickerfire first?) - and he's over looked the serpent oiled up in his own nest.

"They aren't, are they? But you are. We are -" and for a moment, she is not just speaking of them, of a dust hued feline and a pale-faced child, but of their bloodline. Of a group of survivors who will stand tall even after sootstar brings shadowclan to it's knees... well, if she's successful. Siltcloud certainly doesn't share granitepelts blind confidence in the woman's supposed greatness, but she does know this place is cursed - the cats around them frail and weak, useless. And... well, she'd like to be on the wining side for once. She has ats she cares for now, that she wishes to protect - that she will protect. Even from themselves if need be.

"Granitepelt doesn't think much of you, does he? He wouldn't, not when your namesake wasn't much more than a pretty face to stare at, not a thought drifting about his daft mind," her words are sharp as she speaks, saying more than she has in a long time - but the venomous gossip might as well be spilled, even if it is to a child. She settles in for the conversation now, posture loose and languid, gaze sparking with life for once as she smirks. Besides - who would believe her anyways? The word of a strange little child that had granitepelt for a sire; or that of a slip of a thing who'd never done any wrong, who'd never hurt a fly, who'd always been an obedient little puppet. "You could be great, you know. Important - it's in your blood,"

— a beautiful and broken mess ♥

• Actions && "Speech," && ' Thoughts/Quotes '
  
  ooc: dont worry haha, im so slow w activty rn too fr
  tw/cw: —
  
• 
  — a dust hued cinnamon tabby with white markings and sage green eyes. her fur is dull and unkept, her figure frail and slight. she's usually quite passive, and rarely makes eye contact or speaks above a whisper. she has five toes upon all four paws.
  
  — physically medium && mentally hard
  — non-violent powerplay allowed && healing powerplay allowed && minor injury powerplay not-allowed
  — please attack using [b][color=#905d5d]action here[/color][/b] and tag account

 

[GHOSTMASK]

✶—— the girl's eyes are serpentine, cut-glass shining falsely, polished blue jewels as she regards her aunt's laughter. it's a lilting sound that cuts harsh and loud into the air and for a moment ghostkit's face is an utter blank before she makes it animate, lifts one muck-laced paw to mimic her aunt with a girlish giggle. she will do whatever it takes to make siltcloud happy, for now—the dull-pelted woman is a strange creature whose mood ghostkit cannot quite place—but her opinion isn't improved by the sharp laugh. it's a motion, a sound, that defies composure and all that comes with it, something appropriate for siltcloud and her dull ugliness; if she learns nothing else from her aunt, she is learning how not to behave.

"we are," she copies her aunt's enunciation, eyes animated with a false sparkle over the veneer of dullness beneath. it is a lie, of course—she is the only one who is useful. she is the only one who is truly important, who is truly real. that siltcloud thinks she is of that standing is more than idiotic, it is stupid to the level of abhorrence; in a thousand lifetimes, in a thousand generations, her aunt with her dirt-blood could never hope to have a shred of what ghostkit does. but, of course, she has learned all too quickly not to say that - not to curl her lip in her disgust. instead she offers a small, demure smile alongside her glass-shard gaze.

her aunt is a clingy and pitiful thing indeed if it takes only a child's words to have her spilling her guts like a fish, but that doesn't surprise ghostkit. siltcloud seems like someone happy to survive, to occasionally grasp at a romance or a promotion, to live the sad and short life of every cat in the forest. ghostkit would never be like her aunt—the girl would not, will not be happy with mere survival, with the whispered promise of a future or a concept as banal as a family. she will be the best, or she will be nothing - and she is not someone who will be nothing; she was born for this, born important and real. the cats around her? they are nothing in comparison, nothing at all - every pathetic creature like siltcloud is a writhing insect she might mercifully crush.

"i don't think so. he doesn't talk to me as much as the others, but i don't care," the girl mews, her fine swanlike neck arched instead of loose and settled like siltcloud—but then again if she had inherited siltcloud's dull ugliness instead of her own beauty she, too, might have resigned herself to slumping about. her smile remains polite, white-masked face tilted ever so slightly as she does her best to remember these words. her aunt is a pitiful beast indeed, but at least she knows the right words to say, the correct words to say to someone like ghostkit. finally the girl replies, "i will be great. i was born to be great - i'm the only one who can be. everyone else is nothing."

I WILL CARVE MY WAY OUT (✶) 𝑾𝑰𝑻𝑯 𝑶𝑵𝑳𝒀 𝑴𝒀 𝑻𝑬𝑬𝑻𝑯

• ooc: ic opinions only </3 she is so horrible
  
• disclaimer: it is extremely important to note that ghostkit is an exceptionally cruel and immoral cat and her actions and thoughts do not reflect my own opinions as a writer. the way she behaves and thinks is morally reprehensible, and i do not condone these actions outside of roleplay in any way. she may refer to other cats in demeaning ways, including as "things", and this is not an attempt to oocly dehumanize anyone's character, but a reflection of her unfortunate outlook on the world.
  
  ghostkit is also a budding skilled manipulator who is already very good at concealing her true feelings. as such, other characters will generally not be able to detect the fact that she's falsifying her behavior unless it's specifically noted in the post to be visible. this includes "gut feelings", "intuition", or suspicion with no ic basis.
  
  again, all opinions & thoughts are ic only and do not reflect my thoughts and opinions as a writer.
• 
  — ghostkit
  — she/her ; kit of shadowclan ; 3 ☾s
  — "speech" ; thoughts ; attacks
  — penned by dejavu
  

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