camp old gods • october meeting & promotion

[CICADASTAR]

− ♱ ABOUT : the ring around his throat was beginning to scar uncomfortably, healing in a perfect line around where his esophagus clicks on a swallow, jostling the pinkening tissue. it stings, a constant almost - itch he can't scratch. he shakes his head, lips pulling at the way it strains the skin. his wounds were not terrible — mostly of his own doing, thrashing wildly before realizing how resilient his captor had truly been. his recovery had been quick, under careful sunrise eyes he'd healed and his heart is . . tender. the mottled felidae knows what that means, though the thought makes his heart skip, beating an off - rhythm warbeat within his chest. golden - lit features ; ember along white - studded void that brings all too familiar heat rising to sharp cheeks. he is thinking of flame and ash as he ascends the river rock, paws finding familiar place along its flat expanse.

atop the clan, it feels more real. while it had been only a couple of days since their return, the time he'd spent mulling his decision seems to stretch it for eternity. he swallows again, hard, and does not since at the pain this time — he cannot, not up here. the river does not forgive ; it loves, hates, weeps. defies all attempt of capture, rejects all shackles. he rises now before the ripping waters, an imposing figure all - too familiar above his clanmates. hallowed ground, lord of sunbright vine and reed, he stands tall against a halo of sunlight and tips his maw heavenward.

" all those old enough to swim gather beneath the river rock for a clan meeting. "

it's calm, his voice. despite the nerves prickling from anxious thoughts, angry black dogs nipping angrily at his heels for making such a decision — but it was one he stood by, " after thinking it over for a while, i've come to the decision to take a right - hand. " his ears pin, but he lifts his chin, " i understand this may come as a shock, as i've . . refused it before. but this cat has proven themself time and time again a valuable asset ; like the river, she's adapted, overcome. i've watched her grow and adjust to clan life, i've watched her find a place in it. " a voice like rain on gleaming water, but his features do not waver. there is little emotion in the stormy lines of sharp - edged features, lips a firm line with long, curled whiskers never twitching. she was — by force or not, she adjusted. hollowed out a name for herself like a creek, corrosive, " i am not too proud to admit that i need help from time to time, and this cat has proven themself more than able. "

it's a lot for one cat. quiet, smokey words flit over his ears and they burn just slightly, though not from the sun, " i say these words before starclan, so that the spirits of our warrior ancestors may hear and approve of my choice. " a deep breath, a mind gone blank. he thinks of her probation, thinks of lightningstone. what would he think? what would the clan think? he does not say deputy and it is a choice he makes intentionally, as icecap eyes find a white - streaked face amongst the crowd. she was to be his right - hand. his. king of the rivers, he extends his paw and it is with a glimpse of barely withheld disdain. his personal biases do not erase her durability — her strength, drive. knowledge of the river, a fighting force amongst the waves. besides . . it wasn't as if she would no longer be under watch.

" buckgait. "

now, i will watch her myself.

" will you accept? "

out of character information translations

• huge huge huge congrats to @BUCKGAIT. and @lex! !! stay tuned for apprentice ceremonies!
• − CICADASTAR ; he / him. roughly thirty nine months old, riverclan leader
  − handsome, lanky black smoke tortie chimera with curly fur and icy blue eyes
  − gay. speaks with a thick german accent, former marsh cat, penned by antlers
• none.

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[STORMWHISKER]

So far, life had been good for the young tom. Aside from the occasional cat taking him out and making him do things with reassurances that he would have a mentor to do this soon, he had, for the most part, left to his own devices. He spent most of his days trying to convince other apprentices to play with him, pretending not to notice the looks his brother occasionally sent his way and sharing tongues with his sister as he talked to her about this strange new world she had taken him to. Good thing it was only a visit - right?

When Cicadastar announces for old cats old enough to swim to gather he wonders for a moment if he should join. He couldn't swim, after all. After a moment of contemplation, he decides to attend, curiosity getting the better of him. He does his best to listen but he has no idea what is going on. A right-hand why did Cicadastar need that?

Buck. It's a name that he knows. She was there that day when he had first come to the clan. She had stood next to her brother - next to Lightningstone. She was being given a new weird name, a new weird title and he watches with curious green eyes. Maybe on the way home, he could ask his sister if she understood these strange ways a little more. Would he have to refer to her as Buckgait now? He wonders how she feels about that ​

 

[LILYBLOOM.]

Despite the gloomy mood she found herself in as of late, withdrawing in on herself and isolating herself from her nearest and dearest, Lilybloom did not like to miss a meeting. She sits away from the majority of the crowd, tail curled around her paws, listening intently to what Cicadastar has to say.

It seems the main topic of discussion today will be the announcement of a deputy, or at least that's what Lilybloom thinks it is; the leader stops shy of saying that word outright. Buckgait is called forward. Lilybloom tilts her head in interest. It's s good choice she thinks, the she-cat has proven herself well in the clan, and she thinks that given time she would grow into a fine deputy under Cicadastar.​

 

[CRAPPIEPATCH]

Crappiepaw hates meetings! So much! When the leader calls for one, the tortoiseshell considers making the excuse that he's too sick to get up—but knowing his luck, the medicine cat would just tell him to eat some yucky plants. So the apprentice trudges from the medicine den with a huff, settling down beside Clayfur to listen to the meeting.

Clayfur seems particularly excited when Buckgait is announced to be RiverClan's deputy, going so far as to let out a short "whoop!" in celebration before the she-cat has even accepted the position. Crappiepaw rolls their eyes and grumbles, but the buffoon at their side isn't paying enough attention to notice.
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[ FORTUNE LOVES THE BOLD ]​

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[GARPAW]

Late. Slinking in in the back of the crowd the apprentice would drop a fish off at the fresh-kill pile as water was flung from her pelt. Several npcs would cast her an annoyed glance as they became wet, only to be met without sympathy from the girl as she sat. Catching the tail end of Cicadastar's opening statements, lifting her head in surprise as she heard the announcement. Buckgait as our deputy? Interesting. Only moons after the others have announced deputies. A slight shake of her head would be hardly noticeable, her eyes searching for the warrior to give them a nod of her head in congratulations.
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[BUCKGAIT.]

MY NAME IS BRUTUS AND MY NAME MEANS HEAVY ✧​

there's a sudden ache in her, far different from the one that still resides in her healing limb. something heavier, something damning. there'd be shock on her face, but she's still so angered at the world. a deep furrow of a nonexistent brow. others would be greatful, gleeful...a smile bursting upon their features and buck couldn't even manage a smile. just watching the crowd, some of pure acceptance and joy...others of confusion. a part of her wants to tell cicada to eat his own tail, that he alone should bare the weight of the clan he founded. yet something halts her from saying the words.

she hates cicada. she is being switched from one ward to the another. the earthen-pelted woman does not miss his word choice, his eyes that hold anything but the warmth he extends to his subjects. she can't find it in herself to care for his approval. she can hear clayfur celebrate her, but her eyes are heavy upon lightningstone. if anything, to just see his reaction. if he's proud...if he's bitter. she could not blame these cats if they are; but now they have to acknowledge her and bare her in some light.

"i accept." there's no excitement in her echo, no high emotions that cause her to fumble and weep. just the sureness of duty.
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[SMOKESTAR]

The shadow was not sure what he expected when he answered the meeting's call, but he was pleasantly surprised. Pride goeth before the fall, but he was thankfully there were those to catch rather than watch the phantom sink into an abyss of his own making. The fact Cicadastar finally named a deputy was only slightly lessened by who he chose; while he personally admired Buckgait her strength and sensibilities she was surely a cat who would not hesitated to fight the tortie tom on every issue presented them and he wondered vaguely if her devotion to the river would overshadow the clan itself.
But still, a deputy was good-it was a weight lessened and he could almost see it begin to work already at the earthen she-cats calm acceptance. There was another cat to help organize patrols, another cat to handle inner clan issues and keep track of things...it was surely better than watching the mottled leader continue to struggle alone. Despite his pride, Smokethroat hoped this would be a step in the right direction.
There was no congratulations rolling from his tongue preemptively, for all her stature she was still only now being relinquished her cage and let to roam and he'd no sooner offer her a word in good humor only to have it spat back into his face later when she made her stance clear. But for now a quiet nod of acknowledgement would suffice. He wasn't going to act like he was thrilled at this new authority but it was for Cicadastar and for him only he'd hold his tongue.

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[BEESONG]

Beesong had been one of many who'd disagreed with Cicadastar's decision to not appoint a deputy the night after the first official gathering. So, it is to his pleasant surprise that the curly-furred smoke has renounced his previous declaration. Seated near the front where he could hear Cicadastar well enough, Beesong blinks approvingly up at the leader, a hum reverberating in his throat. A deputy is good. Cicadastar might have eight lives left, but no cat lives forever. One day, Cicadastar would be six feet under, and RiverClan would need an heir to the throne.

Although, Beesong will admit that Cicadastar's choice in second-in-command is... unexpected, given the gaping maws and confused looks around them. Buckgait. A cat who has butt heads with Cicadastar plenty of times, and a cat that Cicadastar had trusted so little that he'd assigned a guard to watch over her day and night. But, she's proven herself as a valuable asset... And, if their prophetic dream about the albino buck with flowers blossoming underneath it's hooves is anything to go by, they could only assume that StarClan approves of Cicadastar's choice.

It'll be interesting to observe how Buckgait grows into her newfound position of power, either way.

Beesong swivels his head towards Buckgait, offering her a small smile. "Don't let the power rush to your head too quickly," he jests, before his voice morphs into something more genuine. "Congratulations, by the way."​

 

[Bounceheart]

bounceheart ✧ she/her ✧ riverclan warrior (=˃ᆺ˂=)
A call from their leader meant that she was to abandon her thoughts. Giving a soft sigh as she got up, it was evident she had other things on her mind. She ambled over on light paws, stealing herself a seat in some random spot far enough away from others as to not feel confined. A fog lay behind her eyes as they gazed up at their leader. It was as though she was seeing him for the first time; her eyes the size of saucers as he spoke. Half of his words flew right out her ears as they entered, while others rang in her ears, crisp as church bells.
'Buckgait.'
A moment of clarity washed over her as she refocused on the other. This was something very important. It would be one of the most important nights of her life; but she took it with dignity. She dipped her head in recognition of her feats, and looked about expectantly. No howling? No hoots and hollers to congratulate their newly-appointed deputy? Everyone took it all with quiet acceptance.
"Congratulations," she had raised her voice just a bit, trying to send it across the camp. It was all she had to offer.​

 

[HOUNDSTRIDE.]

❝ Like many'f the others, Houndsnarl takes to the announcement without a word. Dead and dreadful silence, though there's a narrowing to his eyes. The cat herself's a fine enough warrior. But not one he'd trust at his own side, much less that of their leader's. Perhaps it's protectiveness. Perhaps it's somethin' akin to jealousy, that there'd be yet another name the leader turns to before him. He knows he'd never– ah, but words never tell the truth of what he feels. The quiet, black longing that swallows up his heart. A glance to him, then a glance down, and he readies himself for all that'd come. She was a good choice. That's where his focus lies. He inhales, then exhales, and shakes out everything else. She was good choice. His tongue would still not be convinced to stir from its grave at the bottom of his jaw, but he finds her in the crowd and nods. No doubt she's too busy with whatever's going on in her own mind to seek it out and answer, but it's all he's left to offer.

†  ooc notes information †

• 
  ooc: —
• ──── houndsnarl. trans male, he/him pronouns.
  ──── approximately 30 moons old, or 2.5 years.
  ──── bisexual with firm male preference; single.
  
  ──── a chocolate tabby with ( stylized ) low white and intense lime eyes. lean and lanky, with whiplike musculature and a long, quick stride. hound's notable features include his impressive height, the long scar across the left side of his face from nose to jaw, his very deep, dense fur, and the confident manner with which he conducts himself.
• "speech"

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[DARKWHISKER]

Upon Cicadastar's call, Darkpaw trots after his Uncle Clayfur and settles down next to him, placing his pebble in it's own seat. This meeting seems like it's going to be more interesting than usual; Cicadastar is finally announcing a deputy! Shifting in his seat, Darkpaw stares, wide-eyed, up at the leader. Oh, he hopes it's his dad, or his mom! How cool would that be?

It's not.

Cicadastar announces Buckgait as the next deputy, and Darkpaw falters for only a heartbeat. Oh. Buckgait? That's cool, too! Yeah, he likes Buckgait! (He likes everyone, except for one particular cat who he refuses to think about.)

Not quite reading the room, Darkpaw jumps up onto his paws. "Yay! Congratulations, Buckgait!" His cheers rip through the near-silent clearing, accompanied only by his uncle's.​

 

[GLOOMPAW]

*:･ﾟ✧☁ ⋯ Gloomkit's not old enough to swim -- well, she hasn't tried, but she eavesdrops anyways. She wonders if drypaws aren't allowed to listen if they haven't swam. She's already decided she is one, the spray of the water too close to home, more a rebuking than a welcome kiss. Hopefully, though, not-swimmers can listen. Cicadastar is loud enough for them to hear, anyways, so it seems counterproductive.

She barely registers the tom's words, but she catches right-hand and sees Buckgait step up. There's only so many rite of passages a cat can go through in their life. Apprentice ceremonies, warrior namings, yet Buckgait earns a new, additional one. So, like a leader's apprentice. She hopes the new deputy doesn't have to sleep in the apprentice's den, especially when Gloomkit has already snuck in to pick out her own nest.

The congratulations aren't loud screams, some whoops, but the majority is contemplative, a hum of the celebration word. "BUCKGAIIIIIIIIIIIIT!" she shrieks, stomping the ground to applause. ​

 

[RAINWHISKER]

By following her younger brother's scent, Brook locates him with relative ease. Wiggling through a few cats she sits down next to him and jeers her head forward. She fails to make coincidental eye-contact with Cicadastar, but her ears are ever so slightly perked, showing that she was in fact listening intently.

From what Brook understood, "deputy" was second in command. Buckgait was named their deputy, and the blue tabby finds herself lacking an opinion. She doesn't know her well enough, hasn't been in RiverClan long enough to have one. But it sounds like it's been recieved well by her clan-mates? She wonders what Lightningstone thinks... she'd have to ask him.

She bears a polite, congratulative smile on her face. though Buckgait was unlikely to witness it. ​

---

Spoiler: TAGS | 10/18

( casual character / "speech" / ic opinions )​

╰ ★ ჻ 001 GENERAL INFORMATION ,
· BROOK, female — she / her
╰ ‣ 23 moons . ages on the first
╰ ‣ windclan leader . marsh-born . believes in starclan
╰ ‣ former soldier of the marsh group

╰ ★ ჻ 002 VISUALS & AESTHETICS ,
· DOMESTIC FELINE, smells like heather and wet dirt , status — 100%
╰ ‣ blue smoke . blue eyes . blind

╰ ★ ჻ 003 MENTALITY & MANNERISMS ,
· ISFJ-T ❝ DEFENDER ❞ , Slytherin, Lawful Evil
╰ ‣ Observant, reliable, hardworking, overcommitted, humble, takes critique personally
╰ ‣ finds minimal difficulty in relating to others . quick to show mercy, unless her family is at risk of harm
╰ ‣ Doesn't appreciate most proper titles, doesn't feel deserving of them

╰ ★ ჻ 004 INTERACTIONS & RELATIONSHIPS ,
· NPC x GRACE, sister to Lightningstone & Stormpaw
╰ ‣ bisexual.
╰ ‣ skilled fighter . average hunter .
╰ ‣ unlikely to start fights . unlikely to flee .
╰ ‣ attack in underline . penned by user @ava.​

 

[LIGHTNINGSTONE]

He's been quiet, quieter than usual. With his charge holed up in the medicine den healing, he's tasted freedom for the first time in moons. It's not as refreshing as he'd imagined, not when thoughts of her threatened his mind at every waking moment. He fights the urge to visit her in the medicine den, fearing the sting in his heart would only grow if he saw her limp in a nest, healing. It doesn't suit her. She's Buckgait, for crying out loud, far too strong for lying around with poultices wrapped about her body. And yet he avoids her gaze, only turning his head briefly to greet his sister when she comes to sit beside him.

He listens idly as Cicadastar announces he'll be taking a right-hand. He doesn't use the word, but Lightningstone knows he means a deputy, just like the other four clans. Curled ears prick with mild interest, half-lidded eyes only slightly lifting from their usual boredom. He tries to imagine who the leader will pick. Probably one of his lead warriors. Willowroot or Smokethroat, either would be an acceptable choice, in his opinion. He is perhaps one of the most surprised to hear the name that actually spills from their leader's mouth, though.

Buckgait.

He tenses, eyes flickering in an attempt to look at where he knows she's sitting but he fights them back to Cicadastar. So, he is officially free from his chaperone duty permanently. Now he must take orders from her, he supposes. What an ironic twist. Hiding his shock, he turns his head away from her, eyes closing as a steady exhale leaves him. He can move on with his life, finally.​