Post by `Subtle(s)tr!pe~ on Jul 21, 2008 0:20:23 GMT -5
Name;; Subtlestripe
Gender;; Tom
Clan;; BreezeClan
Rank;; Deputy
Love Life;; No one yet (Perhaps Nyxstar?)
Apperance;; Subtlestripe has very sleek, white fur. His long legs are gray, with faded tabby stripes, along with his tail being dark gray. He looks like a storm. His eyes are a very pale blue, which beautifully reflect light. His paws are pure white, and his ears the same color. His face has a few dark stripes leading to his nose. Rather petite for a male, but still as lethal, Subtlestripe posses needle sharp reflexes. He has barely any scars or scabs to show for his battles, because he nimbly avoids attacks with ease. Small paws equip him, along with tall thin legs. He looks rather elegant, and has a voice to go with his body.
Not much food gets to the tom, so he stays fairly skinny, and sometimes looks as if he is sick. But he is quite resilant for looking rather scrawny at times. He could easily be torn apart by raving Tasmanian Devils, that is if they could catch him. His eyes are large and sparkling, but not so huge to look creepy. And he has a strong looking jawline, which is mainly how he attacks. Biting things is how he offensively manuevers, even though his defense is his strong point. It's easy to underestimate this tom, but hard to knock him down.
Personality;; This tom's pelt and name match his personality. Subtlestripe doesn't much like to speak, and expresses himself mostly through looks and body language. When he does talk, his voice is a suave, smoothly cut tone. He needs only himself for company, but likes to be surrounded by others to feel important. When he does speak to you, take it in high-regaurd. Subtlestripe doesn't waste his breath with idle words, so if he has somthing to say, it's important. His inner being is dark and restless, if you could explore his soul you might need a flashlight. He is very intellegent, though...
Much of who he is reflects his thoughts, about how useful felines truely are in the world. What their purpose is. To survive? If that's it, then there is no point in living. He despises the neive, and pities the optimistic. He is often alone, contemplating StarClan. He knows they exist, he could see them in the eyes of Nyxstar. But he doesn't belive they have a purpose, just to guide the living. Subtlestripe spends each day thinking about the next moment, what will happen. He never dwells on his past, but instead looks to the future. But in this knowlege, he only finds uncertainty and no security. Hobbies of his include figuring out other felines, what they are like and what they belive. It is what he does in his spare time.
History;; Kit: Subtlekit carried a heavy burden as a kitten. His sick mother, who was too ill to leave the nest she had made for him and his siblings, needed him to depend on. He brought her food, comforting her and helping her to feed and care for his younger siblings. But one day, his mother died. Subtlekit had been hunting, looking for more prey. He had came back, and his siblings were gone, carried off by vultures. His mother's bones had been picked dry. Shaken to his core, Subtlekit lay by his mother's carcass, ready to die. But after days, the smell was too much, and Subtlekit left, wordless.
Apprentice: Subtlekit arrived, half-dead at the border of BreezeClan. He was picked up by a patrol, who took him back to camp. He was treated for greencough, and was put to work right away. He did as he was told, seeing he had no where else to go. Others his age avoided him, he was a rouge kitten who was not to be associated with. Some came to talk to him on occasion, trying to get somthing out of him. But Subtlepaw mearly listened to the others, eventually boring them to death. He was picked on, called 'Subtledoom' and 'Silentpaw'. But he disreguarded all of it, and never retaliated.
Warrior: After training harder than anyone else, Subtlepaw became a vauable warrior. He didn't know why he worked himself to the bone, he knew there was no point. Subtlestripe just had nothing else today, and had to spend his gloom-filled days doing somthing. For some reason, Subtlestripe became a bit popular with the senior warriors of BreezeClan, perhaps it was because of his silence? No one knows for sure, but the leader, Nyxstar, chose him as her deputy. He was shocked, but it didn't show as he accepted the positon, no smiles or speeches to his clanmates.
RP Example;; It's not so much the pain, it's more the actual knife...
Berry red eyes were the only thing visible, black ebony fur intermixed with the shadows of the night. A plain white streak which ran like lightining across the face of the rouge was only darkened from the void blackness which surrounded it. Muscular legs ran every step of the way, pitch coal paws hitting the soft floor of the forest, tearing at the foliage which stood in the cat's path.
The precision in your voice, eats away at my heart. And your lies, speak to me...
Nyroc wasn't here on business. Quite the opposite actually. He was here to escape it, to escape Nightrider's pompus additude; he didn't say it but he knew that the jet black tom thought low of his followers, minons, lackies, whatever he wanted to call them. Quite honestly, Nyroc found it stupid of himself that he was acctually helping this insane cat bent on destroying everyone. But now he was deeply embeded into the deity that was ShadeClan, and nothing could change that. If he tried to leave, they would go after him or the ones he loved.
The tom slowed to a hault, stopping in front of the stone structure which was once inhabbited by primative creatures known as Twolegs. At least Nyroc considered them primitave. He slowly walked into the house, the door ajar and slightly unhinged. The building was completely deserted; not even ThunderClanners came here often. Nyroc was careful to cover his scent, rouges were stealthy like that.
The building had two stories, a loft as the top floor. Nyroc had been intrested in this particular area, considering big events of his life happened in a loft. His kit's were born in one, and his family was ripped away from him by a cruel fire. He was all over this now, but memories still haunted him. Trendilstep had been the only thing on his mind lately, he hadn't even been focusing on his "clan", he didn't care about it. No one respected him there. Sighing, the tom, with a powerful spring, jumped high and dug his claws into some old floorboards that were meant to be stairs. They were broken now and splintered his feet, but Nyroc ignored it. Reaching the loft, the tom lay down and made himself comfortable in the hay.
Other;;
Gender;; Tom
Clan;; BreezeClan
Rank;; Deputy
Love Life;; No one yet (Perhaps Nyxstar?)
Apperance;; Subtlestripe has very sleek, white fur. His long legs are gray, with faded tabby stripes, along with his tail being dark gray. He looks like a storm. His eyes are a very pale blue, which beautifully reflect light. His paws are pure white, and his ears the same color. His face has a few dark stripes leading to his nose. Rather petite for a male, but still as lethal, Subtlestripe posses needle sharp reflexes. He has barely any scars or scabs to show for his battles, because he nimbly avoids attacks with ease. Small paws equip him, along with tall thin legs. He looks rather elegant, and has a voice to go with his body.
Not much food gets to the tom, so he stays fairly skinny, and sometimes looks as if he is sick. But he is quite resilant for looking rather scrawny at times. He could easily be torn apart by raving Tasmanian Devils, that is if they could catch him. His eyes are large and sparkling, but not so huge to look creepy. And he has a strong looking jawline, which is mainly how he attacks. Biting things is how he offensively manuevers, even though his defense is his strong point. It's easy to underestimate this tom, but hard to knock him down.
Personality;; This tom's pelt and name match his personality. Subtlestripe doesn't much like to speak, and expresses himself mostly through looks and body language. When he does talk, his voice is a suave, smoothly cut tone. He needs only himself for company, but likes to be surrounded by others to feel important. When he does speak to you, take it in high-regaurd. Subtlestripe doesn't waste his breath with idle words, so if he has somthing to say, it's important. His inner being is dark and restless, if you could explore his soul you might need a flashlight. He is very intellegent, though...
Much of who he is reflects his thoughts, about how useful felines truely are in the world. What their purpose is. To survive? If that's it, then there is no point in living. He despises the neive, and pities the optimistic. He is often alone, contemplating StarClan. He knows they exist, he could see them in the eyes of Nyxstar. But he doesn't belive they have a purpose, just to guide the living. Subtlestripe spends each day thinking about the next moment, what will happen. He never dwells on his past, but instead looks to the future. But in this knowlege, he only finds uncertainty and no security. Hobbies of his include figuring out other felines, what they are like and what they belive. It is what he does in his spare time.
History;; Kit: Subtlekit carried a heavy burden as a kitten. His sick mother, who was too ill to leave the nest she had made for him and his siblings, needed him to depend on. He brought her food, comforting her and helping her to feed and care for his younger siblings. But one day, his mother died. Subtlekit had been hunting, looking for more prey. He had came back, and his siblings were gone, carried off by vultures. His mother's bones had been picked dry. Shaken to his core, Subtlekit lay by his mother's carcass, ready to die. But after days, the smell was too much, and Subtlekit left, wordless.
Apprentice: Subtlekit arrived, half-dead at the border of BreezeClan. He was picked up by a patrol, who took him back to camp. He was treated for greencough, and was put to work right away. He did as he was told, seeing he had no where else to go. Others his age avoided him, he was a rouge kitten who was not to be associated with. Some came to talk to him on occasion, trying to get somthing out of him. But Subtlepaw mearly listened to the others, eventually boring them to death. He was picked on, called 'Subtledoom' and 'Silentpaw'. But he disreguarded all of it, and never retaliated.
Warrior: After training harder than anyone else, Subtlepaw became a vauable warrior. He didn't know why he worked himself to the bone, he knew there was no point. Subtlestripe just had nothing else today, and had to spend his gloom-filled days doing somthing. For some reason, Subtlestripe became a bit popular with the senior warriors of BreezeClan, perhaps it was because of his silence? No one knows for sure, but the leader, Nyxstar, chose him as her deputy. He was shocked, but it didn't show as he accepted the positon, no smiles or speeches to his clanmates.
RP Example;; It's not so much the pain, it's more the actual knife...
Berry red eyes were the only thing visible, black ebony fur intermixed with the shadows of the night. A plain white streak which ran like lightining across the face of the rouge was only darkened from the void blackness which surrounded it. Muscular legs ran every step of the way, pitch coal paws hitting the soft floor of the forest, tearing at the foliage which stood in the cat's path.
The precision in your voice, eats away at my heart. And your lies, speak to me...
Nyroc wasn't here on business. Quite the opposite actually. He was here to escape it, to escape Nightrider's pompus additude; he didn't say it but he knew that the jet black tom thought low of his followers, minons, lackies, whatever he wanted to call them. Quite honestly, Nyroc found it stupid of himself that he was acctually helping this insane cat bent on destroying everyone. But now he was deeply embeded into the deity that was ShadeClan, and nothing could change that. If he tried to leave, they would go after him or the ones he loved.
The tom slowed to a hault, stopping in front of the stone structure which was once inhabbited by primative creatures known as Twolegs. At least Nyroc considered them primitave. He slowly walked into the house, the door ajar and slightly unhinged. The building was completely deserted; not even ThunderClanners came here often. Nyroc was careful to cover his scent, rouges were stealthy like that.
The building had two stories, a loft as the top floor. Nyroc had been intrested in this particular area, considering big events of his life happened in a loft. His kit's were born in one, and his family was ripped away from him by a cruel fire. He was all over this now, but memories still haunted him. Trendilstep had been the only thing on his mind lately, he hadn't even been focusing on his "clan", he didn't care about it. No one respected him there. Sighing, the tom, with a powerful spring, jumped high and dug his claws into some old floorboards that were meant to be stairs. They were broken now and splintered his feet, but Nyroc ignored it. Reaching the loft, the tom lay down and made himself comfortable in the hay.
Other;;
