|Ratstar|WindClan| Aug 24, 2011 20:19:45 GMT -6
Post by Mutant on Aug 24, 2011 20:19:45 GMT -6
walk on, walk on, with hope in your heart, and you'll never walk alone
good men must die, but death cannot kill their names.
Ratkit----> Ratpaw----> Ratfang----> Ratstar
Reason behind name: His dark pelt and scraggly appearance at birth inspired his mother to call him Ratkit, and his skill in battle earned him the suffix "fang". He obviously became Ratstar when made leader.
Age: 3 years
Appearance: A very skinny and elegant cat. He has a long neck, legs, and tail, which he always seems to be in full control of to a point that is almost ghostly. His black is long, flowing, and always immaculately groomed. He's averagely sized and has a very narrow, triangular head. His ears are huge in proportion to his body, and his eyes are pale green. He is a very fine-looking cat; his elegant, flowing appearance is often attributed to water or wind, and many say that naming him Ratkit was a bad idea. It describes the color of his fur, but he has none of the ugliness often associated with the rodents.
Short Description: Handsome long-haired black tom with pale green eyes--PERSONALITY--
we continue to shape our personality all our life. If we knew ourselves perfectly, we should die.
Ambition: Over everything, Ratstar strives to be remembered. He acknowledges that life is fleeting, and although he would never admit it, he is afraid of dying out completely, as though he were never there. He wants to immortalize himself in stories told for generations after he's gone.
- Finality of death
- Listening to elders' stories
- Law and order
- The company of other cats
- Being challenged
- Prejudice based on split heritage
Attitude towards strangers: He's very protective of his Clan. He is very political when it comes to strangers- he is careful not to insult them or be unreasonable. Not because he's necessarily merciful or anything; he just doesn't like to cause unnecessary conflict. If they are rude or aggressive, however, he will respond explosively.
Attitude towards Clanmates/familiar cats: He is a bit distant to those he doesn't know well, but becomes insanely protective once he gets to like them. He does not like to be defied, and will often respond with aggression if someone argues with him.
Three words describing cat overall: Protective, temperamental, stubborn
experience is simply the name we give our mistakes.
Secrets: Ratstar is terrified of death's finality. He would never tell anybody for fear of being called weak, but it influences his decisions very much.
Family: His entire family is deceased, but he got along very well with them when he was alive. He didn't know his father very well, but him and his sister, Larkkit, were best friends, and he was very dear to his mother, Mousetail.
Significant past events: Ratstar had a rather traumatic childhood. He was the product of a forbidden romance between a WindClan she-cat named Mousetail and a ShadowClan tom named Hawkfur. Mousetail was bringing him and his siblings, Larkkit and Stonekit, to meet their father by the border in secret, but a dog attacked them on the way there. Larkkit, Mousetail, and Stonekit were all killed, and Ratkit was on the verge of death. He lay in the forest suffering and surrounded by the dead bodies of his family until the dawn patrol found them. He managed to pull through, but was a very nervous apprentice. What turned it around was one day when he was a young warrior hunting by himself. He ran into that same dog, and fueled by a combination of rage, terror, and incredible fighting skill, he drove it away. He has been very confident and determined since then, and quickly rose to the position of deputy under the former leader, Harestar. When Harestar died, Ratstar took his place.--ABOUT YOU--
and remember, no matter where you go, there you are.
ONLY REQUIRED ON FIRST CHARACTER
What can we call you?: Mutant
How long have you been RPing?: 7 years
How did you find us?: Tiger ^^
Secret word!?: Correct!
RP sample: From a different site, a different character of mine named Littleheart waking up from a hypothermic coma.
The blackness pushed obtrusively around him, no longer the warm pelts of familiar cats but some sort of dark force that crushed him almost to the point of pain. He was paralyzed, suspended in this void that he couldn't see but knew was nothing but gloom. The crowding was less of a feeling and more of an intense instinct; it was impossible to describe in words- but somehow, this nothingness managed to be free of sensation while somehow causing him to distantly see a sense of claustrophobia- see, but not feel. And suddenly, though the nothingness, there came a sensation.
Littleheart gasped as the blood in his veins suddenly seemed to start flowing again. It was a feeling like nothing he had ever experienced- a sudden warmth beating through every vein and artery in his body. He felt the beat of his heart as a convulsion of his entire form; he took in shallow breath to the varying rhythm of that unsteady pulse and suddenly, out of nowhere, there came a great, blinding flash. His eyes were still closed, but what little light came through his clenched lids was more than he could bear. He wanted to open his mouth and screech to the sky; sudden pain ripped like a storm through his small body, a feeling so cold that it burned like scalding water. He was still paralyzed, though, hanging on the very edge of consciousness; he could just barely feel the rough rasp of tongues against his fur, and they hurt like no pain he had ever experienced. Every dead skin cell that came off with their steady licking, every dead hair that came out, felt like a warrior's death blow- and yet he didn't die. He lay there, and his mouth slowly opened, and he pushed hard on his lungs until an agonized moan rose from his chest.