“for what it’s worth, if it was gonna kill ya, it would’ve by now.” a showman’s tale/for what it’s worth! a glimpse into your favorite charmer’s backstory, told by the host himself the irp recipient of this story is concealed for plot reasons as of now. this information is not public to tfc cats, only their roleplayers - - “so you wanna know where i’m from, huh? well, buckle up. it’s a ride. it’s a show. it’s a play. heheh.” the golden tom stretched out on his side, spine curving in a lazy arch as if to make himself comfortable, though the way his tail flicked behind him said otherwise. his stage was ready. “i was born in some half-dead barn somewhere past the twolegplace fences. not the charmin’ kind with hay bales and fresh milk n happy mice. i mean, this place was rotting. smelled like mold n blood and wet wood, and the roof caved in more than it didn’t. reeeeaaal cozy. i had two littermates, both just a bit older and significantly more annoying, and a mom who treated us like ticks she couldn’t quite shake off. sweet family dynamic, right? she didn’t really talk to us. didn’t bother to name us either. or if she did, i must’ve been too busy dodging my siblings’ claws to remember mine. but ‘ey, she stuck ‘round just enough to technically keep us alive, so.. mom of the year.” his whiskers would twitch with a dry smirk. a low scoff bubbled out, but he didn’t quite meet your eyes, too busy preening his long golden coat. his voice was almost singsongy. “when i was ‘round two moons, she dragged us into the city. not the shiny parts. i’m talking back alleys, broken sharp things, overflowin’ dumpsters. dogs barking all night, mean alley cats stalking ya if you took one wrong turn, and upwalkers that’d chuck rocks if they spotted you. we lived under a dead monster for a bit. ate outta trash bins. i once tried to eat this weird twoleg thing. might’ve been fish? might’ve been an old sock. hard to say. flavorless either way. thank the moon for squirrels, amiright?” he’d lean back onto his elbow, giving a lopsided grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “anyway, my siblings were the woooorst. constant teasin’, hittin, bitin’ and clawin’, stealin’ whatever tiny scraps i managed to scavenge. but i still tried to make em laugh. tried to make.. her. look at me.” a pause. he picked at the ground absently with a claw, staring somewhere over your shoulder. “stupid, i know, but back then i thought if i just said the right thing or caught the right mouse or acted right, maybe she’d warm up. spoiler: she didn’t.” then, brighter. forced, too sharp, a bit unstable, “then one morning- four moons in and i was living the dream, obviously- i woke up and they was just.. gone. all of ‘em. no goodbye, no warning. nothing. it had rained the night before, of course, because the universe just loves a dramatic exit. how could ya blame it? who doesn’t? their scents were gone, ‘course, the trail was washed away, and i just stood in that gross alley like some half-squished worm under someone’s claw, wondering if maybe they were just hiding. maybe it was a game.” he’d blink, slowly, then chuckled. “it wasn’t.” “i’d waited two days. then i gave up and started walkin’. somewhere along the way i gave myself a name. akio. no big meanin’ to it, it just sounded cool and it made me feel like someone who wasn’t about to die under a dumpster. so. progress!” jig would roll onto his back, paws half-curled, drumming along his bongos lightly. voice drifting just a bit, like he wasn’t fully present anymore. “eventually, i found myself near clan territory. didn’t know that’s what it was, just noticed a lot of cats movin’ ‘round in the same places, marking the same trees, followin’ patrol paths. i started watching. figured if i could figure them out, maybe i’d have a shot at surviving a little longer. plus, they had food. and rules. and structure. wild concept. little me was obviously intrigued.” a wry little grin tugged at his mouth. he tilted his head dramatically. “i ended up trailin’ this one tom, you know the story. big guy, long striped fur, very extra super serious face.” he made a mock stoic face before collapsing into a laugh. “i think i was tryna be sneaky, but clearly the branch i’d been on had disagreed, because i remember that sudden crack. and down i went, crashing right outta that tree and landin’ flat in front of him. ten out of ten first impression. truly nailed it.” he’d let out a low snicker, paw to his chest in silly pride. “his name was nascentseraph. y’all know the guy. didn’t talk much. but he didn’t kill me either, so that was a win. we talked- ehh, well, sort of, and next thing i knew, he was taking me back with him to shadowclan. no idea why. maybe he thought i’d be funny to keep around. comic relief. or maybe he’d seen somethin’ i didn’t. wouldn’t be the first time.”
jig would shrug, one shoulder lifting and falling like a chilly breeze had passed through him. “so there i was, five moons old and suddenly livin’ with swamp cats. gave me the name jigsawpaw. had this big ol’ ceremony. fitting, right? little broken thing tryna piece ‘imself together. i trained hard. yacked harder. kept tryna charm my way into being liked, bein’ wanted. it worked, sorta. nascent had even adopted me, officially or unofficially, i was never sure, though it never felt all that warm.” he’d flex a forepaw idly, then let it drop back onto the ground beside him. “he got busy once he became leader. nascentstar; wasn’t he oh so cool? you know the tale. eventually stepped down and died not long after. we weren’t that close by then, but.. i guess it still sucked. just added to the collection, though, y’know?” his voice would soften. not sad. no, never. just a bit quieter. almost showy, a bit dramatic. “but hey, always a silver linin’, right? that’s when i grew real close to dawnie. dawningpaw, at the time. nascent’s real daughter. technically my adoptive sister, but we grew up side by side like we were born for it. she was smart, curious, real good at laughin’ at all my worst jokes.” he’d smile to himself. genuine, this time. a flash of warmth flickered behind his golden-rimmed eyes. “i.. called ‘er captain chirp. we used to sneak off all the time. heh, it was great. shared prey, went on wild adventures, chased frogs, made a real mess of the territory once or twice. she was the one cat who just.. she got me. didn’t ask no questions i didn’t wanna answer. didn’t care where i came from. we were thick as thorns.” then silence. just a little too long. “and then the volcano happened, not too long ‘go. whole island went up in smoke n ash, and i-“ he’d cut himself off, claws digging lightly into the stone below. his voice would waver just a touch, and then steadied as he’d clear his throat. “ahem. i, uh, didn’t even get to say goodbye. i still think ‘bout her. a lot. maybe even more than pix. not that i’d ever say that to her snout, hah. not really. but. uh. yeah. i miss her. i.. menudo desearía que hubiera sido yo y no ella, pero nunca decimos esa parte en voz alta, eh?” he laughed softly. bitter. almost uncomfortable. made your skin itch. staring at the rock below. “anyway. some boring ol’ moons passed. hey, i was almost a warrior. chirp and i had been close as ever.” the tom was quiet for a while. he gazed at the trees beyond almost curiously, brows furrowed. “then came.. pixiedust.” there had been an odd light in his eyes as he said her name. almost like the ghost of a tear threatening to break surface and go tumbling down his freckled golden snout. but theatre hosts never cried, right? “she was different. didn’t talk much either, but not in the cold and distant way, at least, not to me. more like.. careful. odd, in her own ways. she didn’t push me away. didn’t snap at me like mother had. she’d just sit with me. sometimes she’d teach me bits of words from her language. she had this quiet way of loving cats. like, she didn’t say it, but.. ya knew. i think she was goin’ through ‘er own things. she was the only cat who ever looked at me like i wasn’t a mistake. it was nice. si, bonito.. casi..” he’d exhale through his nose. little shakily. then cover it with a toothy grin. “and then. she was gone too. no one even knew what happened. rather useless rack o’ spies we got. no body. no goodbye. just.. gone. some say she was swept off by the river. and i didn’t take it well. i told everyone i was fine, obvs. made those jokes, shrugged it off, the usual. dawnie was always there to lean on. but i think that was the first time i actually-“ he’d pause, just a moment, head tilted to one side, as if he was actually considering his next words, now gazing at the grass near the spot you sat. “broke. just a little. o tal vez había estado rompiendo todo el tiempo y esa fue solo la parte en la que comenzó a mostrarse.” his ears would lower briefly as he chewed the inside of his gum, looking lost, and maybe a bit angry with somebody. he hadn’t even seemed to notice his tongue had slipped into that other dialect. then they perked again. fakely bright, but practiced well. “anyway. for what it’s worth, now i’m ‘ere, aren’t i? jigsawjinx. full grown warrior. cool guy. shadowclan’s favorite residential advisor and showman. charmin’ and hilarious as ever. maybe a little cracked and dusted up ‘round the edges, but who ain’t?” he’d tap his chest with a claw, tilting his head in mock arrogance. “i’ve got a home, a name, and enough looks to keep people from askin’ too many questions. and.. and i’ve got helleborestar now.” a tiny pause. a predatory glimmer deep within those eyes of his. “so yup. that’s the tragic little backstory of jigsaw the joker. off you go.” the warrior would wink, leaning back onto his paws with a theatrical sigh before swaggering away with a flourish. “hope you enjoyed the show.”
