<b>TEDDYBEAR-KUN</b><br>
<span>RPED BY GOLDCREST</span><br>
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Does a star know it’s destined to die? Does a star know its explosion will give way to future galaxies, to newer stars, to nebulas and black holes? One could argue Teddy, the star of his own life, was unaware; others could argue that he was already living in it. He came into the world with his destiny handed to him on a silver platter and all he had to do in return was to sit nicely, to look adorable, to be judged and tested and stared at by prestigious audience members and judges alike, to win ribbons. The first two shows he attended, he did just that — second place, then first. In his third show, he didn’t place at all, and his final ended abruptly when he nearly took the eye out of the judge handling him. He ran. Teddy had received attention his entire life, and not once had it ever felt so exhilarating. With wide, pale green eyes and a tufty, consistently curled pelt that is a mix of soft greys and oranges, he looks everything like a doll and nothing like the reckless egomaniac he truly is. The colours on his face are interrupted by a delicate white that goes from his nose bridge to his stomach, with small white paws to match, and his head has a particular square shape to it. He can give you the sweetest, most sincere look and mean nothing of it. He is spoiled rotten, and even though he left his lavish life the attitude carried over, and now he acts more as a mean, pretentious, lazy burr; annoying and bratty, small things irritate him and some would say that, where his brain should be, there was simply an image of himself, for it’s all he seemed to talk about. He has a flair for the dramatics and wants to cause as many problems as possible, still stuck on the adrenaline high of his final show, of disobedience, being so pretty yet so horrid. He is everything he isn’t supposed to be, and he wants nothing more.<div class="charstats"><div><b>HUNTING</b><div class="statsbar"><span style="width:40%"></span></div></div><div><b>FIGHTING</b><div class="statsbar"><span style="width:50%"></span></div></div><div><b>STRATEGY</b><div class="statsbar"><span style="width:30%"></span></div> </div></div><div class="linechar"></div>

me realizing all my pi cats are going to nc ..

but i want to test .. this boy! 

<b>HAWISE</b><br>
<span>RPED BY CHILDE</span><br>
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A flower in bloom, beautiful and so full of live one can't help but stop to stare. It's hard to be around her and feel like she belongs in the shadows of the leagues home. Surely there is some mistake, surely she is just a little lost on this crazy plain of life and will find her way soon. Wander off this land of darkness and death to find the sun she so clearly belongs under. Thoughts and comments such as these make her laugh, a beautiful bell like sound that has others holding their breath. A wink, perhaps a flirty smile, and she simply shakes her head with some amusement only she understands and moves on with her day. Or she'll boldly declare that she takes after her kitty-pet father who was such a handsome thing her mother took him as her own despite his kittypet origin. She'll leave out that her mother then murdered her father and left Hawise and her brother Wendel orphaned and abandoned. It ruins the appeal of the story she understands, and she would hate to ruin a good tale with something so tragic. This unspoken ending would help many realize the truth between Hawise's pretty facade. But as with most of her unspoken words it instead hides her vulnerable parts. She won't speak of the things that could let others learn of her, won't let others see the real her. Hawise has her plans and her goals, and anything to achieve them is shrouded in a veil of secrecy. Because in truth Hawise is no flower but a weed like many of her half siblings and extended family. Broken by her circumstances and so so bitter. But instead of speaking of this she will flutter her lashes and share a ready laugh. Hawise will carve out her own opportunities and make her own success, she needs no one and is content with no one knowing the monster that lays curled in her heart.
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Assassin successor

<b>KURMA</b><br>
<span>RPED BY VEXINGODE</span><br>
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Slinking in the shadows like a tiny gray panther, with a sharp golden gaze. Kurma is cold, and rigid on the outside. She lives by a strict self imposed code, and works hard to be the best she can be. You have to be the best in a world where the strongest survive. Her father was weak, gave in to his petty desires and abandoned her and her sick mother. Eventually even her mother could not stay strong and was overcome by her illness, leaving Kurma alone. With a lean body made for hunting and steady muscle ready for fighting. Kurma isn’t a cat to be trifled with, though she has her weaknesses just like any other cat. This cold cat has a soft interior, she can’t help her motherly instincts, despite never having had a litter of her own. Never would she allow a kit to suffer, willing to put herself at risk. Always desiring kits of her own, she found and raised shiver, a white Tom kit she spotted lost in the forest, probably abandoned by a loner. Putting aside her own struggles and memories of her painful past she dedicated herself to this helpless cat raising him to be strong, hoping he would never feel her pain.
 Hunter
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<b>SHIVER-KUN</b><br>
<span>RPED BY VEXINGODE</span><br>
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Stronge, tall, and a bit of a meat head, shiver is your everyday, run of the mill jock. He is all about being fit, and fighting techniques. His coat is long and white, with pale blue eyes and a big goofy grin. Having been raised by Kurma, he followed her code. Rule one, no kit should ever suffer. Rule two, always strive to be better and stronger than you currently are. And rule three, survive. Despite being a big meat head, he was actually quite soft, sensitive, but that part of him was reserved for those he trusted, and to be quite honest, he isn’t as dumb as he leads you to believe. He is actually quite good with strategy, much to others surprise. Shiver also learns quite quickly, he just can be a bit stubborn about it. 
trainee 
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EDEN-KUN
RPED BY SUNLIGHT
There was a serpent in the Garden of Eden- a cunning, wicked creature that cut through perfection to exposure insecurity. A sower of discord, a starter of problems, casually cruel and chaotic. Perhaps it was divine inspiration or merely irony that bestowed the name Eden upon a serpent reincarnate, a purebred picture of perfection with a deep desire to cause trouble. This she-cat comes from an innocuous background, a pedigree kittypet of the Havana Brown breed who found herself terribly bored with her pampered life. She left her old life behind to find her own garden of eden, a playground for her impulses and desires. It’s not so much that Eden is sadistic. She doesn’t seek any particular reward, she has no ulterior motives or desire to destroy. Rather, Eden is curious. She wants to know how far she can push others, what flaws she can exposure and manipulate. She wants to be entertained, to find stimulation in the pursuit of potential outcomes. Physically, she’s rather unassuming- silky brown fur, round green eyes, a build of medium height and weight. Mentally, she’s a surgical needle in the hands of a spoiled brat, bright and witty, selfish and petulant.

TRAINEE

<b>RASALAS</b><br>
<span>RPED BY WRENPANSY</span><br>
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White mitts like satin gloves, black tuxedo made for a ballroom scene. They fit the atmosphere like they were born of it, a figment of it. The heartbeat memory of a sprawling oak floor, that soft string note of a melody you remember in some golden haze of chandelier lighting, the glare of cutting silver on the wine glass rim. And a burning gaze, like charcoal dimming, dimming into nothingness, in some distant figment of some upper class reverie.
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waving my arms frantically. THIS IS THE ONE! THIS IS THE ONE THAT STAYS!

<b>SINCLAIR</b><br>
<span>RPED BY GOLDCREST</span><br>
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He met the darkness and the divine; they gave him a choice: sleep for an eternity, or wake up for a lifetime. Sinclair opened his eyes, met with the fearful, bewildered stares of his family just above where he was supposed to be laid for rest. He climbed out of his grave, gave a nod, turned and left, and didn’t look back. He spent months wandering in isolation, testing his perceived immortality in increasingly extreme ways, unaware it was a false belief. He is shrouded in scars without stories, as when he rose from his unfinished grave, he seemed to have left a part of himself in there. His mind is dotted with blank spots, there’s memories, feelings, faces and names missing. Even now he is forgetful and inattentive, often dropping tasks in the middle of doing them for something more interesting. Draped mainly in black, there are streaks of white or grey that run through his coat, giving him a mottled look, and around his neck hangs a mane of completely pale fur, all matched with earthy hazel eyes. Despite the strange way he carries himself, as if he’s still unused to his own body, he is strangely polite, calm, and open. He seems almost unbothered. His face doesn’t portray a lot of what he feels, the quiet sense of guilt, of confusion, bitterness, and unworthiness, and he only offers up as much as he needs too — there is nobody he fully trusts. But nevertheless he is friendly, not overbearingly quiet or loud, and is surprisingly persistent when it comes to the pursuit of knowledge. Stubbornness runs as deep as his recklessness, his disregard for his own life wrapped up in the lie he’s fed himself that he’s indestructible, immortal. Though he is calm, he’s not above impatience, wanting to hurry through one thing to get to the next; he has a a constant will to distract himself. His absent-mindedness leaves him unpredictable and messy, both in the emotional and physical sense — he loses track of his emotions just as much as he loses track of the time or the things he was doing. He’s quaint, blunt but optimistic, morbid and apathetic, able to overlook darkness and tragedy because everyone has dealt with it, everyone must deal with it, and everyone will experience it. The natural flow of life intrigues him. His guilt sits over his head like a rain cloud, feeding him bizarre ideas, making it seem he has to earn his life or something terrible will befall him again, one without an escape. There’s a sense of emptiness to him, but if you asked him about it all he would do was laugh, smile, or give an offhanded remark.
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I PROBABLY SHOULDNT RELLY HERE BUT TO HELL WITH IT! But thank you !! Totally down for them meeting plus I wanted to play out him joining so maybe Verne can be the one to bump into him or something c: !! I’d love for them to meet too 

<b>PESMERGA</b><br>
<span>RPED BY UNKNOWNHEARTS</span><br>
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It's been a long time since anyone has seen his face. Most of the cats that populate the League wouldn't know of him, and those that do would most likely not recognize him. He grew into those large limbs he had, though his once patchy black and white fur has revealed gorgeous black rosettes on a charcoal pelt. Like pencil scratchings on a paper. He's extremely striking, and deeply reminiscent of times gone. His light green eyes are the nail in the proverbial coffin. Not that he hides his heritage. One of the firstborn sons of Funk E'tan, his memories of the once nemesis are hazy. Maybe the lineage made him a bit snobby, not as appreciative of what he had. He became a wanderer, like his father. Coming and going whenever he felt like it, though it's his first time coming back since the League has moved back to the mansion. He's learned a lot, but it's mostly boiled down to it being better to mind his own business. He doesn't talk much, stoic and intimidating. Still mostly observing those around him. He once had a strong sense of family and unity, but now that they're all gone, that part of Pesmerga has extinguished as well.
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BELMONT
RPED BY Dot
tall tom with messy black fur and lighter brown highlights. Pale green eyes and elongated canine teeth. His rather goofy appearances adds to his very strange personality. He's a cat that just sort of showed up one day and weaseled his way into the ranks of the League. He doesn't ask questions keeps his nose down and likes to avoid conflict. He is an introverted nerd that can spill many random facts about birds or other wildlife. He spends many of his days wandering the woods.
RANK: Hunter

HUNTING: 4/10
FIGHTING: 3/10
STRATEGY: 5/10

x.x sorry I'm doing this on my phone and originally attempted to write this in the code format but kept messing up. Also his bios sucks but idk what I want to do with him yet.