A/N: I had idly been daydreaming about what-if Warriors AU designs for JoJo characters almost since I first fell in love with this anime six years ago. Everything really started falling into place about two years ago, when I realized that both series are generational sagas with star motifs representing the forces of good. So naturally I have retellings planned up to Golden Wind and less complete plans for Stone Ocean. It's been great fun so far to return to the fandom that not only first sparked my creativity, but introduced me to the wider internet, and write about dramatic talking battle cats again. I hope that it will be just as much fun for you to read.

Cover is courtesy of tachyon-siber/art/Super-Edition-Cover-Base-589742499 and felidaze's Warrior Cat Creator Picrew. I am a writer, not an artist. :P

RippleClan

Leader: Stonestar: old gray-brown tom with amber eyes.

Deputy: Sparkwhisker - reverse tuxedo tom with rangy build, green eyes, and long black whiskers. Apprentice, Sunpaw.

Healer: Gyrestorm: Longhaired pale tawny tom with white patches and green eyes. Apprentice, Frostpaw.

Warriors:

Rosepelt: Large yellow tom with amber eyes

Shadestep: Sleek gray-black molly with dark blue eyes.

Sorrelclaw: Pale brown and white molly with yellow eyes. Apprentice, Sparrowpaw.

Apprentices:

Sunpaw: Big fluffy blue tom with blue-green eyes and a lilac star mark on his left shoulder

Frostpaw: Pretty pale-gray-and-white molly with blue eyes

Sparrowpaw: Light brown tom with darker flecks and amber eyes

GroveClan

Leader: Dawnstar: Blue-black molly with violet eyes

BeachClan

Leader: Gullstar: Grey-and-white tabby tom

HeartClan

Leader: Pebblestar: Old gray molly

Cats Outside Clans

Brando: Golden tabby tom with orange eyes, some black stripes including tear lines, and large fangs

The Ogres:

Axle: Golden brown tom with amber eyes and scarred muzzle, wears collar embedded with metal and glass shards

Raccoon: Large orange molly with black mask marking

Kempo: Siamese tom

Prologue

An ancient root stretched over a gap between two jagged mountain cliffs. It was as narrow as a kit's tail and swayed precariously in the slightest of breezes. Yet the two cats perched in its center, standing almost nose-to-nose, stood still and perfectly balanced. Though the air was still this sunhigh, their pelts faintly waved with ambient energy. Below them was a small valley closed off from the outside world by piles of boulders from a rockfall untold seasons ago. Shapes of other cats, small as beetles, sparsely dotted it.

The expressions of the two toms facing each other on the Highest Bridge were grave. The older was the first one to speak. "You've done well to survive three seasons of training as my apprentice, and many more serving your Clan as a warrior. You can run from horizon to horizon without so much as raising your breath, and cross the surface of the lake as freely as though it were land. You are fit to be named deputy, and when I am gone to succeed me as leader of RippleClan. I will train you in special techniques that only leaders have the privilege to know."

The younger cat's blue eyes widened. "I would be honored to accept such a position. Thank you, Stonestar."

The gray-brown tom sharply flipped his tail up over his shoulder, a cautionary gesture. "I will say it again, Sparkwhisker. If you continue along this path, the fate StarClan has chosen for you shall be sealed; you will meet an early death. Should you reject my offer, new paths will open up for you."

"Stonestar…" Sparkwhisker was determined. "Please tell me about this path to my death that you saw. Where will it end? When?"

Stonestar turned away. "And what would knowing your fate help to change it?"

A light snow began to drift down from the highest mountain peak, dusting Sparkwhisker's black-spotted fur. "I seek to know the course of my life. Now that I have caught scent of this lead, I cannot let it go. Once I know of my death, I will accept it, be satisfied with whatever may come in the future."

"Very well." Stonestar nodded gravely. "If you must know… I will tell you. I saw a stone serpent biting its tail with terrible fangs, and a young lion, trapped in a cave reeking of death. Your power must become his so that he may escape and drive out a creeping darkness that threatens all the Clans and beyond."

"A young lion… a creeping darkness… Does this have to do with that other prophecy? The Great Prophecy?"

"I must consult with the seers to be sure, but I believe it may. Twin stars will fall to light and to darkness. Ripples of sunlit blood will echo to the end of all things."

"I am not one to doubt the word of StarClan, or of my leader," said Sparkwhisker. "If it is my destiny to find this cat and give my life for him, then so be it. I shall become the deputy of RippleClan, and when the time is right I shall search for him. I'll travel the world if that's what it takes."

"I knew that I could rely on you. It is done. Now that you know, there is no going back from this path!"

The two cats crossed the ancient, swaying Highest Bridge as easily as ants on a blade of grass and skillfully descended the cliff to the RippleClan camp. Stonestar leapt to an outcrop overlooking the hollow, fringed with scrubby lichen. Old though he may have been, his voice carried across the camp as he yowled, "Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather beneath the Stone Arch for a Clan meeting!"

More warriors flowed as smoothly and stealthily as streams into the center from dens and over the boulders. A few gangly apprentices joined them. Amber and gold and green eyes were round with attention and fixed on their leader. Stonestar reflected sadly for a moment on how few faces gazed expectantly at him before he began. "I say these words before StarClan, so that the spirits of our warrior ancestors may hear and approve of my choice. The new deputy of RippleClan is Sparkwhisker."

The gathered Clan sent echoes bouncing off the sides of the mountains with their cheering.

Neither ceremonies nor fate nor prophecies were on the mind of the dun-colored molly. Even if Stonestar's pronunciation to his warrior had happened in the city and not within the mountains that overlooked it, six moons had passed since that time. Within that time, the molly had left her mother, gotten into fights with the strange insular organization of fellow street cats who called themselves HeartClan, gone into heat, and, well… she didn't like to dwell on what followed that. It was deeply unpleasant, as the fleabitten old dump-scrounger who'd tracked her scent down was, but it was just part of life as a female. That's what her mother had always told her.

She tried not to think about it, as she tried to ignore the cramping in her belly and search for somewhere, anywhere, to take shelter. It couldn't be here, not under the stone-and-steel bridge that spanned the slow-flowing, grimy river. All it would take was one heavy rain and her kits could be swept away. The nameless molly took a deep breath, steeled herself, and swam across. The water dragged and tugged at her pelt like the clammy, naked hands of Twolegs. Her body rode low in the water with the extra weight of the litter soon to be born. But she made it across, hauled herself out, and shook herself dry. The rotting smell of the river water clung to her fur and to her tongue as she tried to lick herself clean.

She hissed and curled in on herself as the pains came again, stronger than before. She had to find a nest soon. Up the steep bank she bounded, and sat in the harsh yellow-orange glow of a light-tree as she examined her surroundings. Of the few stars that shone through the Twolegs' constant artificial light, one fell, a sharp streak arcing duskward across the sky.

There was a dark alley across the street; below the ever-present oily odor of cars that clung to everything, the molly could smell rats. Those could pose a threat to newborn kits… or serve as a meal for her. Hunger now cramped her stomach in concert with the labor pains; she hadn't eaten in three sunsets. Something shifted deep within her. It would have to do. Her time was close now.

She found a gap in the oncoming pack of cars and darted through. She escaped only a whisker's breadth from the onrushing hulk; she flattened her ears at the angry bellow it emitted. The molly caught her breath and flitted into the alley. It was like many others in the city: carrion-boxes next to doors on the backsides of buildings that formed its walls, a pile of old color-leaves damp with rat urine, and a large trash-box… standing just high enough off the concrete that a skinny cat could squeeze under it. The molly dragged a hasty nest of color-paper and dead grass under it, but it offered sparse comfort as she gave birth, alone, in the rotten-smelling darkness.

Only two kits were born alive: two golden-furred toms, and a small misshapen thing that never took a single breath. The molly felt a pang of sadness for it, but was deep-down relieved that she wouldn't have to feed quite so many extra mouths. She turned her attention back to her two living kits. Their fur color and features were quite similar, though one was much smaller. His skinny body and tiny clawed paws reminded her of a lizard. The larger kit had black tear lines from his tightly closed eyes to the corners of his muzzle, and already the beginnings of a fluffy golden mane. He kicked out blindly and squealed with all the ferocity he could muster even as the molly freed him from the remains of his birth sac; already she knew he would be fierce. So she came to think of the smaller kit as Lizard and the larger as Lion.

It was a difficult life they were born into, in the Twolegs' world. They were the ones who built the city for themselves, and few of them looked kindly on street cats. Every other creature that clung to life in their concrete jungle, from dogs and foxes, other cats, down to the rats and crows would be vicious rivals for every scrap of food and shelter the kittens could scavenge.

When Lion and Lizard were a moon old, they and their mother were chased out from under the trash-box by angry, disgusted Twolegs. While those kits followed their mother across the city on still-wobbly legs, a purebred British Blue queen gave birth to her own litter, attended by her owners, in a warm nest box lined with plush blankets and towels. Before she had retreated into it, she was sitting at the windowsill, where she noticed a shooting star arc toward the rising sun.

They were all fine, healthy kittens, sure to grow up into wonderful pets for loving families. Their fur color was the same pure, uniform blue as their mother. The only exception was the largest of the five, who had a curious spot of lilac on his shoulder. Reportedly, the litter's sire sported this mark as well. The queen's owners remarked among themselves that it resembled a five-pointed star.

Seasons later, far away in the mountains, Stonestar saw two more shooting stars. One fell toward the light of the rising sun. The other, in exactly the same heartbeat, streaked across the darkness that remained and fell to the night that clung to the other horizon. He watched them, transfixed, and called his deputy into the leader's den. "Did you see it too?" Sparkwhisker nodded. "StarClan spoke to me. The time draws near. Twin stars have fallen to light and sarkness. The one who is instrumental to your fate - to RippleClan, to all things - now lives and has been set on his path. The Stone Collar that took so many warriors from us remains, and has tasted blood once more. Where either of them may be, I cannot say. Will you seek them out?"

"Of course. I shall begin preparation for my journey at once."

"You know what this means, then."

"I made peace with my fate long ago. I shall proceed toward it without fear." Moonlight glowed on Sparkwhisker's white fur as he ducked out of the leader's den, making the black splotches on his muzzle, chest, paws, and tail stand out even more. Familiar amber eyes caught his attention as he trotted briskly across the camp. Rosepelt stood at the entrance of the warriors' den. "So you're leaving, then?" the yellow tom meowed quietly.

Sparkwhisker nodded. Rosepelt had been his apprentice, and remained his close friend and training partner even after earning his warrior name. "I've told you, you mustn't join me on this journey. Not only will it be long and fraught with untold dangers, but RippleClan already has so few warriors to its name. For one as strong and dependable as you to leave would be a serious blow."

"I had no such plans. I only wanted to see my mentor and friend off." Rosepelt touched his nose to Sparkwhisker's shoulder. "May the sun and stars light your path."

Sparkwhisker returned the gesture. "And yours as well," he purred. "If I ever need your assistance, I will see to it that word reaches you."

"I will offer you my life if I must. Now go. Pursue your destiny."

A young warrior sitting vigil atop the Fallenstones turned her head toward the tom as he passed, moss packet of traveling herbs held in his mouth. He nodded, assuring her that he would return. Then he leapt down, toward the other side of the mountains, and was gone.

A/N: I write and update very sporadically, half of which is the good old 'tism and half the fast-paced medical certification program in which I'm currently enrolled. I have a backlog of about 6.5 chapters at this point, one of which will be posted weekly (let's say on Fridays, in honor of Jojo Fridays) as available. Hopefully I'll find time to get the next one out on AO3 and here before November...