Availability Foxtrot-ShadowClan: Available for RP, will take offers for mating. Not the type for a fling really. Sunscorch: Available for RP, open for a rped or non-rped fling. Future plotting reserved by Gl!tch~. Shadewhisper- Available for RP, open for rped or non-rped fling or mate offers. Frostkit- Available for friend RP, will need mentor eventually. Not open for future flings/mate plotting. Reserved by Gl!tch~ Coldpaw- Available for RP, could use cats to bother. Not open for future slings/mate. Reserved by Gl!tch~ Stormchaser- Open for anything. Fling, rped or non rped, mate offer, friend RP, whatever. Brightpaw- Needs mentor, available for future plotting.
Flings N/A
Mated N/A
Breedings N/A
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Posted: Fri Jun 20, 2014 11:07 am
Name: Foxtrot Past Names: Foxkit, Foxpaw Gender: Tom Age: Relatively Young Warrior Clan: ShadowClan Position: Warrior Mentor: Tallpoppy Apprentices/Past Apprentices: None
Current Status: Open Mate: Not yet Past Affairs: None Kits: None Parents: N/A Siblings: N/A Friends: N/A
Personality: Foxtrot is the exception rather than the rule in ShadowClan with an inclination for compassion. He's pretty easy going, with an open and welcoming attitude, at least within his clan. To other Clans, he sticks to the general Shadowclan rule of coldness to ward others off, even if he personally finds the illusion amusing. He doesn't quite share his Clanmates' venemous dislike of the other Clans, but doesn't fight it. Still, he makes for an easily trustable warrior and has the making for a good role model. He's pretty rational, with a good problem solving head on his shoulders, but he's not good at being heartless. He has a firm belief that every cat has the right to live and that kits are to be protected, never attacked. He holds high morals, if nothing else. Still, he gets along with his clanmates, even if not all of them share his prerogative. When it's time for action, Foxtrot is quick on the uptake and applies himself well to the tasks he does. He takes responsibility very seriously and tries to look out for others when he can. Foxtrot doesn't do too well with with stubborn cats, usually caught off guard or put out by hostility. He's confident enough in day to day work as a warrior, but he still questions himself and feels self conscious of his shortcomings. Still, he lacks patience for those that would rather argue than act, and can be know to snap at cats with that kind of attitude. Post Color: Fire Brick Other:
History: N/A
Plots: Going to mentor Foxkit(Gl!tch~) RP Log: N/A
Name: Sunscorch Past Names: Sunkit, Sunpaw Gender: Female Age: Young Warrior-Seasoned Warrior Position: Warrior Mentor: N/A Apprentices/Past Apprentices: N/A
Current Status: Available for fling. Mate: Hah. Past Affairs: Not yet. Kits: None. Parents: N/A Siblings: N/A Friends: N/A
Personality: Post Color: Sandy Brown Other:
History: N/A
Plots: Future plotting reserved by Gl!tch~ RP Log: N/A
Obtained: Quote Game - Hunt with SkyClan Colorist: Eauo Design: Eauo Event Cat Generation: 1st Past Stages: N/A
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Posted: Mon Jun 23, 2014 7:17 pm
Name: Shadewhisper Past Names: Shadekit, Shadepaw Gender: Male Age: New Warrior Position: Warrior Mentor: N/A Apprentices/Past Apprentices: N/A
Current Status: Available for anything Mate: None Past Affairs: None Kits: None Parents: N/A Siblings: N/A Friends: N/A
Personality: Post Color: #3c465a Other:
History: N/A
Plots: None yet RP Log: N/A
Obtained: Colorist: Day Drops Design: Day Drops Event Cat Generation: 1st Past Stages: N/A
Posted: Mon Jun 23, 2014 9:25 pm
Name: Frostkit Past Names: --- Gender: Female Age: Child Position: Kit Mentor: Not yet Apprentices/Past Apprentices: N/A
Current Status: Not available. Mate: No Past Affairs: Nope Kits: None Parents: Snowfall & ??? Siblings: Coldpaw(half-brother) Friends: N/A
Personality: Post Color: Other:
History: N/A
Plots: It's a secret P: RP Log: N/A
Obtained: Custom Slots Colorist: Hot Jackalope Design: Custom Generation: 1st Past Stages: N/A
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Posted: Wed Jun 25, 2014 1:58 pm
Name: Coldpaw Past Names: Coldkit Gender: Male Age: New apprentice age Position: Apprentice Mentor: ??? Apprentices/Past Apprentices: N/A
Current Status: Unavalable Mate: None Past Affairs: None Kits: None Parents: Whiteshadow and Ashfall/unnamed tom Siblings: Freezepaw, ??? Friends: N/A
Personality: Coldpaw is kinda snappish, obviously, and he comes off as nasty and mean and condescending and almost cruel. The thing is that's his natural demeanor. What might be intended as teasing can come off as him spitting insults. He's really antagonistic and likes to bug cats and see if he can get rises out of others. So he's a bit obnoxious. He's super protective of his family, in that kind of only I get to be mean to my half-sister way. The way he cares is shown more so through the amount of badgering, and when he gets more serious is when he's actually well and truly concerned and attentive. But he also has a temper that emerges as antagonistic cruelty but as he gets angrier he gets even more aggressive and overbearing than usual, and is likely to keep pushing and insulting and picking at anything he can until someone takes a swipe at him, which he will take as an excuse to start an all out brawl without any remorse. He's not really one to consider the consequences of his actions too deeply or really care all that much. He likes to play tricks and pull tails and make a general nuisance of himself, but hey, he's good at being a warrior, so he has that going for him. He's terrible. Terrible, but he cares in his own mean way, and he's actually pretty physically affectionate. Post Color: #525252 Other:
History:
Plots: RP Log:
Obtained: Custom Slots Colorist: Hot Jackalope Design: Custom Generation: 1st Past Stages: N/A
Posted: Wed Jun 25, 2014 2:07 pm
Name: Stormchaser Past Names: Stormkit, Stormpaw Gender: Female Age: Relatively young warrior Position: Warrior Mentor: N/A Apprentices/Past Apprentices: None
Current Status: Available for whatever Mate: None Past Affairs: None Kits: None Parents: ? and ? Siblings: N/A Friends: N/A
Personality: Stormchaser is quite the character, known best for her foul language and kept far away from the nursery for that very reason. She's all rough edges, with pretty much no verbal filter, so she does her best to just keep from opening her mouth but damn if she doesn't slip sometimes. She almost always has a mental monologue going on, sprinkled with curses and excess tangents, but she withholds from letting it out in the open, after finding her thoughts aren't always appreciated. As a warrior, she comes across as a bit harried, and over time has become a bit of a workaholic to let off her extra steam. She tends to take on a larger workload than one cat should handle, but is undeterred from her tasks. She's treated well enough by her clanmates, but she has few close companions, as most are not wont to expose themselves to the litany sure to spill from her maw if given the chance. While she's brash and bold and horribly blunt, she does understand she has a knack for saying things in exactly the wrong way. While she may be fed up with how others can take every little thing as an insult or criticism, she gets that the way she speaks doesn't particularly help matters. Her thoughts are always running in different directions and never seem to stop, and for the most part, she has to keep it to herself lest she receive punishment for unwarranted harassment. Despite the mild dislike for her, she is more than comfortable in who she is, and doesn't take things personally. If she did something wrong, say she did and she will get on it. If she is presented with dislike or aggressiveness, she's gotten to a point where she's hardly phased and makes it clear she could not care less that the cat dislikes her and that their energy could be better expended than bothering her with it. She does her best not to judge cats and accept that they and herself are not perfect, but she knows she's not there yet. She's a bit crass and crude and her sense of humor very near insulting as it depends on one being able to make fun of themselves, but she's hardworking and she values those that bother to get to know her above anything else. The important thing to not about her cursing habit is that it the expletives are used as tools of exaggeration to highlight her feelings on a matter. They’re used as hyperbole, and when she’s in a stressful situation, it worsens. It’s important to understand that she isn’t necessarily saying that you are a dung stench dog kitter, but at that moment, you’re acting akin to one. Post Color: #c6d2d2 Other: Prompt was "A kit has strayed out of the nursery and into the night. For some reason, you're the only one to notice as the kit slips out of camp out of the notice of the sentries. What do you do?" Response:
Twitching violently, Stormchaser jerked awake, the only thought pounding through her mind that there was an opening in the camp border that could let cats spy on the leader’s den that needed. Fumbling awake, she clumped out of the warrior’s den, barely avoiding stomping on a few tails and bodies in her groggy state.
Standing in the middle of camp, she realized that that was a few moons ago now that that exact thought had woken her up and had already been taken care of. Letting out a silent groan, she dropped uselessly to the ground She heard the elder causing a ruckus, the two night sentries struggling to manage the uproar. She considered going over but was distracted when she caught movement from the side of her eyes.
It was too low to the ground to have been any warrior though, or even an apprentice, and nothing was inside camp or else she’d have seen it. Wow, the brambles really needed to be fixed as a large hole was forming. By StarClan, those lousy apprentices were slacking. Wait a second, that wasn’t what she was worried about.
Alright, so she wasn’t fully awake.
After a few more minutes, she lurched to her feet and lumbered towards the entrance. The sentries were tied up and she could pick up their slack. At least that was what she was going to do until she got to the entrance and caught the traces of a soft milky scent that clung to the nursery. Stormchaser stiffened immediately, her brain finally fully waking up.
Movement. Close to the ground. Smells like nursery. Small. Not queen. Kit.
Kit.
She shot off out of the entrance, her legs eating up the ground as she bounded across the pine needle floor, following the nursery scent until another smell began to clog her nostrils. It burned her mouth and fear trilled through her, forcing herself faster as adrenaline flooded her system, eyes wide and frantic as a heartfelt curse escaped her.
“Foxdung,” She hissed, ignoring the irony of the statements because dear StarClan up above, she could smell fox. It was strong and close, just as close as the kit, and another expletive was pulled from her.
Bursting through the underbrush, she was on them now, could feel the snarl spilling from the fox’s maw in her skull as it vibrated through her ears and it’s muzzle opened to show teeth and the kit was just cowering there. Stormchaser barreled straight at the fox, immediately rearing away from the predator after impact and grabbed the kit roughly by the neck and was off again.
The enraged yip of the fox sounded not far behind her and the warrior could hear the creature give chase. Pumping her legs as hard as she could, she kept her maw clamped around the kit’s scruff like a trap, the little body swinging but in no danger of dropping. Her legs straining, Stormchaser decided they’d gone far enough. She kept running towards her target for a moment longer before springing, momentum helping to carry her as she clawed up the nearest tree in the most ungainly scramble. Her neck craned awkwardly to keep from crushing the kit and the extra weight offset her but adrenaline helped her force her aching body to where the fox couldn’t reach.
Perched above the growling fox, the kit held snugly between her and the tree trunk, she let her mouth unclench. In an instant she was spitting down at the fox with every bit of moxy in her blood.
“That’s right, you maggot-brained dung licker, can’t reach us up here!” She spit, the litany of curses spilling from her on every exhale until her breathing was ragged. The fox called and complained and clawed at the base of the tree but could not make its way up, eventually giving up.
As the fox lost interest, so did Stormchaser, already knowing it would wander away and they could return to camp. Turning to stare at the kit, she thought fiercely about the sentries. Oh, she was going to have words with them when she got back.
Blankly, she realized that there was a reason no cat wanted her near their children and oh boy, oh dear, this kit’s mother would have words with Stormchaser when they got back because she couldn’t even remember everything she’d just said in front of the kit.
Judging from the look of admiration and apprehension beginning to ignite as the embers of fear died out, she may yet have a way to salvage this.
History:
As a kit, she was rambunctious and loud, commenting on anything and everything, always having make her opinion known. It became clear very quickly that she just let loose whatever popped into her head, and despite valiant efforts on her mother's part and complaints from her two brothers and single sister, she never learned to not speak her mind. After, all what was the sense in that? No one could read ehr thoughts so she had to speak them out loud so others heard, right?
It was a dark day in the nursery the day Stormkit learned of the less savory language that existed, meant to express frustration or the degree of another's stupidity. She got quite the scolding when her father came to visit while their mother was sleeping and Stormkit was telling off her brother for complaining about her to mom again.
In her kithood, Stormkit liked to watch the rain fall from the nursery, never allowed to go play in it, held back by her mother's paws. Still she liked the noise of the rain and was fascinated that Starpelt would hide itself and throw tantrums.
As an apprentice, Stormkit practically made her home in the Elder's Den, getting sent there every other day for some commentary a passing warrior took offense to. Joke was on them though because it was the elders that seemed to appreciate her best, amused by her youthful brashness and her explanation from day to day on how she was put on tick duty. The Elder's Den had never been so lively, and while some just wanted their rest, a few welcomed this foul little lady into their midst. It was actually from the tongues of the seniors that she learned worse curses. Then again, there was one elder in particular that took none too kindly to her loud and obnoxious behavior and suggested that a good mouthful of mouse-bile would curb her tongue. Stormpaw and she didn’t get along too well and it created a lasting rivalry that resulted in many shouting matches.
After a particular incident as an apprentice where her tongue slipped and she made some inappropriate commentary about another apprentice's relation with their mentor (yet only in retaliation to their scathing comments about her deplorable attitude), and some rather harsh punishment, Stormpaw began to reel back her speech. For a period of time, she had to be chaperoned at all times, warriors hissed for silence whenever she opened her mouth, her family avoided her at all costs, not wanting to be associated with her despicable behavior, and the elders were ordered to ignore her. It wasn't a pleasant time and it frayed her nerves badly to be so ostracized by her clan. As she grew more and more irate at her treatment, she threw herself into her training, but with an amount of passive aggression that kept her under watch. That and her many attempts to sneak out of camp, the times she did sneak out of camp, and constant hiding game she'd put the warrior on duty to keep an eye on her through.
The times he did escape watch she'd venture deep into the territory and train as best she could by herself until she was found and herded back to camp to get a chewing out for running off.
She began to sympathize with storms, how animals would flee and hide when grey clouds rolled across the sky, blotting out the sun and rumbling ominously. She empathized with how the sky rumbled and roared, despite how many disliked its voice. She took satisfaction in the fact that even though storms passed, they always came back because no one could control or silence them or make them into anything but what they were.
Eventually, she couldn't take it anymore and blew up at her mentor about the treatment during training, raising her voice as he tried to talk down at her and shut her up until she struck out and managed to surprise him. He was stunned by her long enough that she was able to yowl in his face that she didn't do anything wrong, she didn't know why everyone wanted her to change or why no cat liked her and treating her like a prisoner wasn't going to explain it.
The experience actually helped strengthen their mentor-apprentice bond as he came to realize Stormpaw had no clue what was wrong with how she acted. Her distinct lack of understanding was slowly diminished, but she couldn't empathize. She preferred to speak her mind and would like others to do so to her. She finally got an explanation that made it clear to her why she shouldn't let certain things loose. With her mentor's help, she learned to curb her speech, but never seemed to really grasp the idea of filtering her words, so she found it best to keep her thoughts to herself in most cases. The whole experience, while trying and frustrating, helped her grow up and finally got the kind of guidance she needed.
(She finally understands that the allegations she made on her fellow apprentice were wildly inappropriate and against clan etiquette and nearly ruined the mentor-apprentice relation of the other two and it was inappropriate to strike out with as much venom as she had. Didn't regret it though.)
For her insubordinate behavior, she was an apprentice a bit longer than most, but as a nearly grown warrior, she was comfortable in her own fur. Her mentor actually conversed with her and she felt better about who she was took pride that her mind was her own and didn't let anyone take the from her, but understood that there are manners to uphold, feelings to take into account, that she isn't the only one that thought freely, but it isn't her place to judge. She grew up, a lot. Her mentor was very very proud of where she was now and how she'd matured, and you know what? So was she.
Stormchaser never stopped working hard, finding herself still looked down upon by many of her clanmates for her past behavior, and she sought to prove them wrong. Aside from just that, rather than voice what would be taken as criticism, she took it upon herself to take care of the problems she saw by herself.
She holds suspicions that her mentor had a paw in giving her her warrior name, though not directly per say. She had seen him go to the leader's den to talk on multiple occasions, and the habit seemed to start about half a moon before she became a warrior. Stormchaser is almost certain her mentor was reporting her progress to the leader and working on convincing them to let her have her ceremony already. She guessed he had shared some of the details of her and her mentor's talks, where she told him some on how she wanted to follow the dark clouds as they passed sometimes and how she was persistent on picking her own path in life. At least, that is what she though, but thought better than to pry after those particular details, she was pretty sure she was never supposed to see him visiting the leader, especially since she had been spying when she had seen. Oops.
Still, she saw the symbolism and it never failed to make her smirk. She was like a storm, rumbling and loud and unyeilding, impossible to ignore, but storms came and went, transforming into innocuous clods that skittered by on the edge of your attention. She could certainly chase others away in a manner befitting of a storm, but she though it may be more in reference to her unalterable chase of being the storm, proud and loud and nothing but itself. She would chase her own path as a warrior.
Plots: None RP Log: N/A
Obtained: Concept Contest - Adventure with ShadowClan Colorist: Day Drops Design: Day Drops Event Cat Generation: 1st Past Stages: N/A
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Posted: Wed Jun 25, 2014 2:14 pm
Name: Brightpaw Past Names: Brightkit Gender: Male Age: Young apprentice Position: Apprenticw Mentor: N/A Apprentices/Past Apprentices: None
Current Status: Available for stuff when older Mate: None Past Affairs: None Kits: None Parents: ? and ? Siblings: N/A Friends: N/A
Personality: Brightpaw really takes after his name, with a bright sunny personality that isn’t too common for ShadowClanners. He’s predisposed to optimism, always looking at the bright side, thinking positively. He holds his mother in high regard, keeping her lessons close at heart, and is often teased as a mama’s boy. She always told him to remember who he is and where he came from. To protect his heart from the shadows of the world, to shine light wherever he can. To not be afraid. Of course, that’s all easier said than done, he’s just a new apprentice, he’s young. But he wants to live up to her expectations, to make her proud and happy of who he is. But he is afraid. He tries to stifle it, but he’s so afraid. He’s afraid that he isn't wanted by others, he’s afraid to speak up, he’s afraid he won’t be a good warrior. He’s so debilitatingly scared that sometimes he doesn't ever get to sleep at night, just staring at Starpelt and hoping his ancestors can grant him strength. It's like he can be this bright happy guy, but doubt festers in the back of his mind and if he fall into a mode, his fears go crazy and overtake everything. He’s shy, hesitant of new cats and of intruding, but most times, he forges on anyway and tries to put in his word and tries to cheer up whoever seems gloomy. It’s almost aggravating how optimistic he is, but he backs off when others ward him away and doesn't shove his shiny optimism down your throat. He’s an unobtrusive presence, so most are okay with his presence.He remains hopeful in the face of hardship, impossibly so, because he won’t breath a word of any doubts in his mind. After all, if you don’t have anything good to say, don’t say anything at all. Post Color: #b44e0e Other: Used doing my own prompt, his mother has caught the plague; this is him reacting to that discovery.
He tried. He really tried to think that it'll be okay, it'll get better, but the reality of the situation pressed in around him, stifling and choking.
Brightpaw scuffed his paws lightly on the dirt in front of him, staring unseeingly towards the den on the other end of camp. It’s gaping entry was like the maw of some dark creature that had spawned from the Place of No Stars itself, consuming any breathed too deeply the rancid breath it exhaled. Like a clouded haze of death, the scent of sickness swirled around the monster, caressing those it held in its mouth, its whispers rattling the chests of those it held captive and forcing their bodies to rebel against them.
The sun was positioned in such a way that shadows reached out from the horrific beast that sat deceptively idle in ShadowClan camp. Brightpaw could almost see the dark distended paws reaching slowly across camp, landing on its next victim, claiming their breath as it’s own, causing them to collapse in weakness, choking on the once clean air around them now infested with living death itself as it spread. Invariably it spread and claimed whomever it chose with no regards for those that would be left behind. It did not care that it was taking mates away from each other, mentors from apprentices, or kits from their families.
No, the infestation of rot and death and plague did not care that it was taking his mother.
Because the sickness was not alive, but Brightpaw could imagine it was. He could imagine its gaunt haunting face, sunken in and skin sliding off bone. Gums rotting so sharp spires of fangs stood out against black flesh. Eyes yellowed and sick, their color faded and pupils blown from the engulfing dark that shrouded it. Limbs too long, bones too thin, threatening to break with every movement, to just fall off. Flies flocked around it’s back, laying their eggs in the festering wounds that broke through patchy falling off fur.
It’s dead hopeless eyes turned, meeting Brightpaw’s own and it’s stretched and ruined mouth stretched into a macabre smile, a grin of all teeth, hatred and laughter spilling from it’s tongue as a raspy broken whisper of a voice coiled around Brightpaw’s ears.
“I’m taking your mother.”
Brightpaw gasped, immediately snapping back to reality, his heart rattling in his chest, still frozen to the spot he’d been in when Foxtrot had first padded over to he and his brothers sharing tongues and informed them with the utmost pain constricting his voice that their mother had been moved to the medicine cat’s den. The one that no longer had any healer to watch after it, just a place to put the breathing dead.
He quivered in fear, staring at the imposing entrance to the den his mother was now restricted to (it’s hard to breath), and braced himself (don’t let her see), straightening up his spine as he tried to stand as tall as his short stature could (feeling something crack and shatter on the forest floor as he raised himself to his paws), and put on a shaky smile that steadied as he strode forward (don’t show how scared you are).
He hopes to Starclan that she wouldn't see. He hopes to StarClan she wouldn't notice the spiderweb cracks spreading across his soul.
History: Brightkit was named for the radiant gold pelt he bore, unlike his brothers that took after their mother’s more brown and muddy fur. His brothers, both older and bigger than him were competitive and stubborn and clashed with each other a lot. Brightkit acted as a mediator, doing his best to turn whatever argument they started into a game or cheer up whoever was sulking because mom scolded them. Still, his attitude wasn’t always appreciated. Sometimes his brothers were just too riled up to be calmed down and would turn on him instead. Sometimes they just weren’t in the mood. Still, he tried, never let their grumpy demeanor pull him down, but a stern telling off or too sharp of words would send him into prolonged periods of awkward silence, unsure what to do with himself when he was so unwanted.
Their mother always kept an eye on Brightkit. She loved all three of her children, but Brightkit needed a special eye. He was too genuinely nice and upbeat combined with an innate shyness that would make warrior life tough for him. He’s a born and bred ShadowClanner, he would be a powerful warrior someday, but she was concerned that her beautiful bright beacon might get broken along the way. So she catered to him the most, even though she knew she shouldn’t. He got teased and taunted by jealous brothers and other kits in the nursery, but he took it in stride. Brightkit’s mom told him stories of all the cats she knew of, past ones she’d known and ancient tales. She especially told him of the strength and perseverance needed to survive, whispered life lessons in his ears, and built his walls strong, hoping he could sustain who he was with her blanket of support surrounding his mind.
Brightkit became Brightpaw on a sunny day in leaf-fall, the sun shining off his well-groomed coat, and his mother was so proud as he touched noses with his mentor for the first time. She prayed to StarClan he’d be okay.
Plots: None yet RP Log: N/A
Obtained: Concept Contest - Adventure with ShadowClan Colorist: Day Drops Design: Day Drops Event cat Generation: 1st Past Stages: N/A
