TGB : Starbuck/Grantaire

& very thank to rainwolfeh for sponsoring me uvu

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Story Updates

Alriyel's Return
Starbuck has chosen to follow Alriyel out of shared belief for his professed vision but is indifferent to Cenek's position as his "leader".

The Cosmic Battle
Starbuck is now indifferent to Alriyel and no longer considers Cenek the leader of Shadow Tribe due to the Shadow Spirit's revocation of the Silver Shadow's status.

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Kit Name: Starbuck
True Name: Grantaire [ gran • tair ; not grant • air ]
Gender: Male

Current Age: 62 moons // 5SC + 2M
Joined Tribes: 50 moons // 4SC + 2M
Birth Season: Mid-Autumn
Born In: Exile

Breed: Moggy
Colour: Brown broken mackerel tabby and white
Coat Length: Medium-short [a very dense, plush coat]
Body Type: Semi-Foreign // Athletic [medium sized, athletic body with medium-long legs; similar to a Snowshoe]
Eyes: Hazel [pale green-yellow with a dark brown ring  around the outside edge]
Height: 12.5" // 31.75cm   [shoulder]
Weight: 10 - 12lbs // 4.5 - 5.5kg
Other Features: Polydactyl [front paws are "mitten paws", & hind paws each have five toes]

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Tribe: Shadow Tribe
Rank: Adult
Active Tattoo: (reference)

Profession: Mineral Collector
Current Apprentice: none
Former Apprentices: Drake

Souldbond: open
Skills: Secondary

Skill 01 : Is This A Name?
You start to learn the meaning of true names and how to use them!

Skill 02 : Seeing The Soul
You can see the flow of energy through the body of other animals, what they refer to as their soul!

Skill 03 : Control Through The Name 1
Using your understanding of souls and names, you start to be able to control small animals and insects by commanding them with their true names! Requires a LOT of energy.

Skill 04 : Understanding Of Emotions
By looking at the souls of other cats, you become able to vaguely detect how they are feeling.

Skill 05 : Control Through The Name 2
You start to be able to control Medium sized animals using their true names! Requires a LOT of energy.

Skill 06 : Meditation
You start to get a strict control over your own emotions, now being able to blend them out completely at will.

Skill 07 : Control Through The Name 3
You start being able to control large animals using their true names! Requires a LOT of energy.

Skill 08 : Lie To Me
You can force anything or anybody to tell you the truth on whatever question you have by commanding them with their true name.

Skill 09 : Mood Chant
With a song you can affect emotions and moods.

Skill 10 : Communication
You can communicate with the spirits of the dead. However this could backfire and result in a terrible time with that said spirit; you can't control who you get to talk to.

Skill 11 : Nightmares
You can create nightmares. This will mostly only work when the cat is asleep, unconscious or very confused and can't tell apart reality and nightmare anymore.

Skill 12 : In Your Head
You become able to control the mood of another cat, and are capable of planting fear or sadness or whatever you desire in their mind as long as you stay concentrated upon them. Only works for a short time, and requires A LOT of energy.

Skill 13 : Summoning of Bones
You call upon the dead and summon an undead creature to your help, it can't be bigger than a fox however.

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Personality & Behaviour:

                                           The Rum Tum Tugger is a curious cat
                                                If you offer me pheasant -- I'd rather have grouse
                                                If you put in in a house, I would much prefer a flat,
                                                If you put me in a flat then I'd rather have a house
                                                If you set me on a mouse then I, only want a rat
                                                If you set me on a rat, then I'd rather chase a mouse

                                                                                     The Rum Tum Tugger is a curious cat
                                                                                          And there isn't any call for me to shout it
                                                                                     For he will do as he chooses
                                                                                          And there's no doing anything about it!

                                           The Rum Tum Tugger is a terrible bore
                                                Well when you let me in then I wanna go out
                                                I'm always on the wrong side of every door,
                                                And as soon as I get home then I like to get about
                                                I like to lie in a bureau drawer --
                                                But I make such a fuss if I can't get out!

                                                                                     The Rum Tum Tugger is a curious cat
                                                                                          And there isn't any use for you to doubt it
                                                                                     For he will do as he chooses
                                                                                          And there's no doing anything about it!

                                           The Rum Tum Tugger is a curious beast
                                                My disobliging ways are a matter of habit
                                                If you offer my fish then I always want a feast
                                                And if there isn't any fish then I won't eat a rabbit
                                                If you offer me cream then I, sniff and sneer
                                                For I only like what I find for myself --
                                                So you'll catch me in it right up to my ears
                                                If you put it away on the larder shelf!

                                                                                     The Rum Tum Tugger is artful and knowing
                                                                                     The Rum Tum Tugger _{doesn't care for a cuddle}
                                                                                          But I'll leap in your lap in the middle of your sewing
                                                                                          'Cause there's nothing I enjoy like a horrible muddle

     Key Traits
     self-serving | preoccupied with one's own interests
     subjective | placing excessive emphasis on one's own moods, attitudes, opinions, etc.
     caviler | one who raises irritating or trivial objections
     irritable | easily irritated or annoyed; readily excited to impatience or anger
     emotionally isolated | mentally distanced from others, with an inability to create significant bonds or non-superficial friendships

          Starbuck spent the majority of his life, before finally condescending to join the Tribe cats, on his own -- and his personality reflects that with great clarity. He has had, and is capable of having friends, but always are they held at arm's reach (likely without much dismay to them, given his particular temperament). He does very little with any sense of cruelty or meanness, and is not disinterested in the welfare of others, but shows a distinct lack of thought or consideration in regards to their interests or priorities. The excessive importance he places on his own wants and needs also has the unfortunate side effect peevish persistence, wherein he will whine, harass and manipulate others until he finds a way to get what he wants.
          Fortunately, all Starbuck often wants is something to do. His personality doesn't typically indicate it but he is a vigorously energetic individual, and for a cat who has spent so much time alone, he still manages to be terrible at entertaining himself. More than that, he often craves interaction with others -- as long as it's on his terms, of course. Should others have the audacity to appearch him in the way he does others, or to request something of him that he doesn't feel like doing, it's a coin flip as to whether he'll be obliging or insulted.
          His irritability is obvious, but his bravery is rather up for debate. While he would prefer to simply chase undesirables away, he can hold his own in a fight, and actively seeks out anyone that he feels is trespassing. That said, he's very wary of any potential threats that he's not confident he can best (or at least match) and has zero interest in testing his luck against them, or being anywhere near anything he knows is trouble or has caused him grief in the past. Likewise, in a shared space or social situation (short of being backed into a corner) he will avoid conflict at all costs -- even if it means running away from over-friendly kittens. Protective of what he considers to be his, but not actually a particularly aggressive cat, Starbuck's irritability and rough edges belie his otherwise friendly nature, just as his usual put-on show of unflappable composure tends to be disrupted by his conflict avoidance and very obvious anxiety regarding potential threats.

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Friendship & Romance:
     Grantaire is not actively looking for love; he barely knows how to make friends.
     He enjoys the occasional grooming session with cats he's very fond of, particularly if he's tired, or has been alone for an extended period of time, but is otherwise not a very physically affectionate cat. His ideal companion(s) would be someone who could keep him company without crowding him, spar and play aggressively with on clear nights and sunny afternoons, and lavish him with mutual attention whenever he so desires (if only briefly).
     As he has never lived in a social environment, his immediate instinct is to mistrust and be wary of other cats. He's more accustomed to threatening them than making friends with them, and most of his friends over the years have only been around for short periods of time. Despite that, he actually very much enjoys having company, but it does take him much longer to form strong bonds.

Family & Friends: True Name (Kit Name) || Tattoo || Status
Heartchart

     Father
     Hunnicutt (Thicket) || Grey-Light || Unknown

     Mother
     Merope (Jellylorum) || Black-Fire || Presumed Dead

     Littermates
     [sister] Unknown (Pettipas) || Grey-Fire || Unknown
     [sister] Unknown (Trill) || Black-Air || Unknown

     Notable Friends
     [female] Theroux (Nutmeg) || Grey-Shadow || Presumed Dead
     [male] Beaufort (Coal) || Black-Air || Unknown
     [male] Unknown (Squirrel) || Grey-Water || Presumed Dead
     [male] Stump || raccoon || Unknown
     [male] Drake || Petrel || Blue-Green-Shadow || Alive

Genetic Traits:
for amateur genetics nerds like me; very useful for hypokits
     GENE     EXPRESSED     CARRYING
     Bb          black                chocolate
     Dd          dense              blue
     Aa          agouti              self
     McMc      mackerel          mackerel
     Ss          spotting           no spotting
     Pdpd      polydactyl        normal


Extra:
  • Thinks of Starbuck as his name; not comfortable with being called Grantaire
  • Has no idea who his father is, and it's never occurred to him to wonder
  • His "thumbs" allow him slightly better grip, but mostly just make him walk funny
  • Has quite a few old scars, but they're all covered by his fur
  • No particular qualms about getting dirty, but is fastidious in his personal grooming
  • Smells very clean; a combination of light shampoo and face powder
  • His favourite foods are the heads of small rodents; however, he will not eat rats

Memes & Art:
  • Full application image
  • Active tattoo reference
  • Heartchart
  • Kitten meme
  • Hypokits
  • Cat & human sketches 1
  • Cat & human sketches 2
  • iScribble drawing
  • Coloured sketch

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History:
          Starbuck's life began in exile. Not that he had any idea that it was "exile". No, to him it was simply the normal way to be living -- the way of the free cats -- and for a very long time, the idea of cats living in any other fashion seemed downright unnatural. He took after his mother, a strong, graceful black-fire who became disillusioned with the Tribe life and lost all faith in the Spirits during the war, and would warn her kittens against both.

          "Not all cats are like us," Merope would remind the three tiny tabbies.
          She had explained tribe markings to them, the curious grey and black tattoos that they had seen on her and some of the cats she associated with from time to time -- but that they lacked entirely. "Tribe markings are something all cats get, when they're older," she had told them. "They don't mean anything."
          "But what's a tribe," the kittens queried, "and why do we have tribe markings if they don't mean anything?"
          "They're vestigial things," was the reply.
          "But what does ---"
          "It means they're useless remnants. They used to a serve a purpose, but they don't anymore."
          The athletic queen told them about the cats with the colourful Tribe markings -- told them that these cats were not to be trusted for any reason, that they were dangerous creatures, to be avoided at all costs. Starbuck was sure this was nonsense. Filled with the ferocious bravery of kittenhood he scoffed at the idea of being scared of another cat, and his arrogance earned him a slap, as well as an extra warning.
          "The Tribe cats can do things you'll never understand," Merope warned, "and they'll use it against you. Stay away from them, always."

          The small family lived on their own, far enough away from any other cats that for the first few moons of their life, their mother was all the three kittens knew. It wasn't until Merope began taking them on hunting expeditions further from the den that they met any other cats, by way of fellow free cats that their mother associated with from time to time. It was a quiet life, idyllic in many respects, but it didn't last.
          Black tattoo still fresh on his face, Starbuck awoke one morning to find himself utterly alone, the overpowering musk of fox wafting in from outside. Terrified that the source of the odour was still out there, he remained in the den, quiet and still. He stayed there for hours, waiting on the return of his mother. She must have known there was a fox nearby, he theorised. She was moving Trill and P'ti somewhere safe, but it got too close. It must still be too close, or she would have come back for me.
          Hours turned into all night, and late into the next day, when his stomach -- and bladder -- finally drove him to venture outside. The smell was mostly gone by now, and Merope nowhere in sight. What looked like blood on the grass, but to whom it belonged, he had no way of knowing. Just as he had no way of figuring out which way his family might have gone. He ventured a small, plaintiff yowl for them, but it was something he regretted immediately. A flash of red in the nearby woods sent him hurtling in the opposite direction. He wasn't sure it was a fox... but he didn't know that it wasn't, either, and wasn't planning on taking any chances.

          Starbuck spent the bulk of the following three and half season cycles on his own. He never did see Merope again, and could only assume she'd been killed. He wasn't entirely alone, though.
          He got lucky early on, stumbling into Theroux's territory. He could fend for himself to some degree -- meaning that he wasn't a terrible hunter, considering his age -- but it's anyone's guess if he would have survived on his own without her help.  Not that the old red female was particularly thrilled about this rambunctious kitten being around, but she eventually took pity on the coltish creature, who seemed to have legs that grew faster than the rest of him. Starbuck never learned much about her, but she kept an eye that he stayed out of danger, and provided him with food when he could find none for himself.
          He spent the colder parts of those first two winters in Theroux's den, but otherwise he kept to his own. They weren't family, and she had no desire for a constant companion -- any more than he wanted to be one. They socialised and played a little, but rarely: Theroux was getting on in years, and though it couldn't be guessed from watching her in action, the youthful energy that overflowed from Starbuck had long since left her. But what was perhaps a more insulting factor was that an older male that Theroux often spent time with seemed to take great offence to the young tabby's presence. Either way, Starbuck was more than happy to live his own life.
          His springs and summers were often spent amusing himself with Beaufort -- a large black male that seemed to live somewhere not far from him and Theroux. Beaufort, he noted, also looked an awful lot like the fellow that Theroux was always cavorting about with.. but whether they were related, Starbuck never knew. As with the red female, he never learned much about Beaufort, despite their frequent socialising. Beaufort's life and history were his own, as Starbuck's was his, and most of it, the tabby spent exploring.

          Starbuck explored extensively, traveling throughout the vast land that the free cats called their own, learning what would amount to just a fraction of its many wonders and dangers. And he met many of those other cats along the way, making friends and enemies alike of them, the latter of which included, he believed, his sisters. He came across the pair early one morning during one of his expeditions. Certainly there was something vaguely familiar in their scent -- but more than that, what made him so sure of it was Trill. While Pettipas could be mistaken for a hundred other cats (he'd mistaken other cats for her more times than he could count), Trill was not so run of the mill with her distinctive white markings and unique vocalisations. He sat watching them for some time, not sure of what to do. The two females made the decision on his behalf when they caught wind of him.
          Whether Pettipas and Trill recognised him or not, Starbuck doesn't know. But clearly, it was no concern to them, whichever it was. They wasted no time in rushing him with rather vicious intent, and so he fled, taking care to avoid the area in the future. Still he didn't let it put a damper on his explorations. Indeed, he was sure he would never stop exploring, and was equally sure that he would never want to stop -- until something happened which seemed to give him little other choice. The day the Tribes came.
          Theroux had disappeared, gone off to die somewhere, Starbuck assumed. She'd been ill for some time, and he would stop by every few days to bring her food. The old male had been coming about on the regular, so he wasn't too concerned about her as far as that went. But one day she simply wasn't there, and he didn't try to find her. Possibly, of course, the older codger had taken her off to where ever he lived, but Starbuck doubted it. He took over her territory -- it had been his to some degree, of course -- but let her den grow cold. And now, with the dangerous Tribers taking over their land, the land of the free cats, much of the time that would've been spent grieving the loss of Theroux otherwise was instead spent enraged at the arrogance and audacity of the Tribe cats, and dedicated to making sure that what was his would remain his.
          It was not always an easy task. The free cats seemed to be falling on top of one another at times, as all those that lived in the annexed land were pushed out by the Tribe cats, either by their immediate arrival, or over time as they spread out and began to explore, claiming great swaths of territory in the names of their strange "Spirits". He couldn't believe it when he heard that many of the free cats were succumbing to the invasion by joining the Tribes.
          Beaufort was not among them, but he was gone all the same. Starbuck doubted any ill had befallen the large black cat, but he knew that Beaufort wanted less to do with the Tribes than even he did. Maybe with all the crowding, he had been pushed out of his territory. Probably he had simply moved further afield, regardless. Starbuck couldn't blame him. He'd seemed to have had first-hand knowledge about the tribes, and while he assured the younger tabby that they were not, in fact, as monstrously awful as he thought they were, he still had more than enough reason to avoid them. Beaufort, of course, never was a terribly brave fellow, so Starbuck didn't figure it meant all that much.

          The milestones in Starbuck's life are marked with arrivals and departures, and with Beaufort's departure, came the arrival of Squirrel.
          Where the little ball of grey fur had come from, he didn't know, but he was sure it was impossible for any cat to ever be that small -- or that persistent. Wherever he went, that creature seemed to find him. Perhaps it was too young, or simply too stupid, to understand what all of Starbuck's hissing and growling meant, but none of it seemed to faze the little thing -- so instead, Starbuck would end up fleeing from it. If nothing else, it at least couldn't keep up with him.
          Squirrel carried on in such a way, avoiding predators by pure luck, and surviving on the prey left behind by that big tabby cat that he wanted so awfully to be friends with. He missed other cats so much. And as would become the norm, Squirrel eventually got his way. Starbuck awoke one evening to find the little ball of grey fluff curled up next to him in his den. And he sprang up, and hissed, and growled, as he was wont to do, but he didn't chase the kitten away, or run away himself. And that was that.
          The relationship that began with Starbuck barely tolerating the little longhaired kitten grew over the next year into the closest bond he would ever know in the free lands. If anyone had told Starbuck just how much his little friend was going to grow, he wouldn't have believed him. Though Squirrel started out at half the size a kitten his age should have been, his body seemed to have bigger plans than that. Before he'd completed his first season cycle, he was nearly the size of Starbuck. Despite that, though, simple Squirrel just wasn't blessed with the skills or senses that all cats should have. His hunting was abysmal, and his obliviousness, downright dangerous. That anything could be harmful to him didn't seem to cross his mind, and no amount of warnings or lessons seemed to help him remember.
          Starbuck did what he could to protect him. He spent most of his time with grey cat, keeping him away from dangerous places and creatures, and making sure he didn't try to befriend the wrong cat. But he couldn't watch him all the time. The amount of time Starbuck spent hunting had to be doubled -- both to keep them both fed, and to make up for all the prey Squirrel would unwittingly scare off. It was a full time job, but he didn't notice just how much of his life Squirrel had taken up until the longhaired cat was gone.
          The black-shadow returned after a particularly long day of hunting, but something was immediately, horribly amiss. Squirrel was gone, which was never good but not uncommon. The big grey cat often got bored and wandered off while Starbuck was away. But this time the smell of blood was everywhere, and he had no doubt to whom it belonged. He found the source, not far from their den, but no Squirrel. No nothing. Just blood that didn't seem to go anywhere -- or perhaps, seemed to go everywhere -- and the occassional tuft of fur, saved from the wind by grasping weeds. He spent the next several days searching, but found nothing. Perhaps some great bird had gotten Squirrel. With no sign of him, and no one having seen him, it was his only guess.

          Starbuck's only company over the following months was a particularly passive raccoon that took up residence irritatingly close to his den. He had no interest in seeing any other cats anymore, and rarely ventured out save to relieve himself and, less frequently than he should have, to get something to eat. He wondered if this was what the word exile meant. If Squirrel had been with the Tribe cats, wouldn't he still be alive? After all, with all those cats... surely there would've always been someone to watch out for him. Starbuck wasn't so sure about that. But he did know that he was alone now. Even that dumb raccoon would be moving on when the seasons changed, and that meant there were only enemies left around him -- including a pale grey tom tabby who was quite aggressively insistent on taking over his territory. There didn't seem to be all that much freedom left in these lands; certainly he didn't have much left to lose.

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Roleplay Example: [Babak and Lillith Ashoka from MEETyourMONSTER with Greenpolarbear47's Cassie Volkov and Ace]

    Babak's antennae waggle, raising and lowering slowly. "Aahhhh...." His mouth gapes as he exhales the sound, "yes, I must be, Babak." His voice is deep and slow, the grating of stones; if mountains could speak, they may sound something like he does. The words tumble into a rolling laughter that seems to echo from within him. "Hello, little girl.." He pauses, winking an eye at Ace, "hello, littler monster," the words leading into another chuckle.
     "Aahhhh..." Again the slow steam-like exhale, "litt-le Lil-li... yess..." The monstrous head bobs, "today, to-day, she spins, on the frozen water. 'Hauk-ee'," he pauses on the strange word, "'hauk-ee', she calls it... Litt-le Lil-li...." His head bobs again, looking at them. "West, and north, and north again... above Jimmie's Pool."

     "Hauk-ee," Cassie said under her breath, "Oh Hockey! She's playing hockey just above Jimmie’s Pool." She smiled at the monster, "Thank you so very much, Babak. It was such a pleasure to meet you. I hope to see you again sometime, good bye."
     Ace simply nodded at Babak before he and Cassie started to make their way to where Lillith was playing hockey.

     "Cassandra, I don’t see why we have to go all the way out here just because of a note," Ace grumbled, as he dragged his hooves in the snow.
     "Because it was a very nice thing for Lilli to do and I want to thank her for it," Cassie as explained to her monster.
     "Couldn’t we have waited until it was warmer...?"
     "Stop being such a grump."
     "I am not a grump..." Ace muttered.
     It was not too long until they made it to the pond past Jimmie’s pool. Cassie looked around for Lillith. "Hello? Lilli are you here?" she called.

     Babak rumbles to them as they leave. It sounds like it could be something like a strange purr.. ..or maybe just indigestion.

     From the small frozen pond just north of Jimmie's Pool, shots echo as Lillith's hockey stick slaps at rocks, firing them between a pair of sticks jammed in the snow at one end.
     Hearing the voice, she hesitates mid-shot, head looking up sharply in Cassie and Ace's direction. Between her hat and a pair of aviators, most of her face is obscured. She doesn't respond, but she stands upright, leaning on her stick and staring at the pair expectantly.

     Cassie waves at Lillith and thinks out walking over to her but stops. She decided that walking out on the ice may not be the best idea. She didn’t want to slip and fall, she was already cold enough. "Hey, I came to talk to you, Lilli," she called, still standing on the edge of Jimmie’s Pool, inches from the ice. "I would come out there, but I’m afraid I might slip."
     Ace just stood there, uninterested in the whole thing. Besides he had no idea what was going on. Ace didn’t know what the note said or even who this girl was. He should have just stayed at his tree in the badlands and read a book.

     Lillith stands stock still for a long moment, just staring at them blankly, and then lets out a quiet, vaguely derisive sort of noise, something between a huff and a grunt. But she pushes off the ice with her stick and skates over to the edge of the pond with a casual ease, coming to a gentle rest about a foot away. She leans on the stick again, butt end on the ice, and with her other hand lifts the sunglasses to rest on her hat.

     She eyes Ace warily for a moment before flicking her eyes back to Cassie. "Yeah, all right. What's up."

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