Warrior Cat Clans 2 (WCC2 aka Classic) is a roleplay site inspired by the Warrior series by Erin Hunter. Whether you are a fan of the books or new to the Warrior cats world, WCC2 offers a diverse environment with over a decade’s worth of lore for you - and your characters - to explore. Join us today and become a part of our ongoing story!
News & Updates
11.06.2022 The site has been transformed into an archive. Thank you for all the memories here!
Here on Classic we understand that sometimes life can get difficult and we struggle. We may need to receive advice, vent, know that we are not alone in our difficult times, or even just have someone listen to what's going on in our lives. In light of these times, we have created the support threads below that are open to all of our members at any time.
For generations, callous parables have kept errant kittens from straying during the night. Allegories of inhuman creatures who reside where the bloodstained timber constricts light to shadow, where insanity is standard and compassion, a myth. Beyond the daunting boundaries lies an empire painted with the blood of the fallen, the ground forever stained crimson in a land of smoke and bone. They of Primal Instinct are creations risen from the ashes of their past; their lives gone up in flames and previously left to burn in the glowing embers of their sin. Here they have found the sanctity they were denied, baptized in the sable blood of vengeance and reborn in the league of lost souls. They are the madness that lurks within us all, begging to be free at every moment in our deepest primal mind. There is no nocturnal haven where they cannot tread, for they are the insanity of the night, cloaked in silence. They are what we fear ourselves to be, embracing it in all of its virulent and harrowing glory.
The league is comprised of outcasts, revolutionaries, lost souls, and savages. The only form of power understood within our empire is that of blood and bone; physical strength and royal bloodlines dominate this land. The strongest cat is who we follow. Led by the Nemesis, Solaris E'tan, his word is law. Becoming the Nemesis is the highest achievement possible in our league. He is the most respected and feared feline around here, capitializing our forces and making executive decisions that we do not question. Cross him, and it will be your last mistake. Below him is the Warden, the second-in-command of Primal Instinct. Holding this title does not guarantee a promotion to Nemesis -- not all cats can survive this position. The Warden does all of the Nemesis's dirty work and receives little credit. Mind how you treat them, they could be your next leader. Lower than the Warden are the four Proxies. A Proxy is an elite Hunter who has proven themselves with outstanding accomplishments. To be recognized with this title is an absolute honor: the next Warden is chosen from the four Proxies. They hold authority in the league by organizing patrols, facilitating hunts, and keeping order on the ground.
Next comes the Assassin. The Assassin is a single member of the league entrusted to protect the Nemesis's life -- not that they need it. The assassin is rarely seen in public -- they are spies by nature, and lethal when confronted. The Shaman is a cat with the power of life and death in her paws, and is only ever female. Our equivalent of a healer, but with a twist. Rarely does she heal -- she uses her knowledge of herbs to concoct poisons and potions. She, too, is responsible for training an apprentice: the Mage, who is her daughter. Next come the Hunters, the equivalent of Clan warriors and constituents of murder, the Trainees (apprentices), and the Younglings (kits). We do not have an elder equivalent here, simply because most cats don't last long enough.
Training is the rigorous and ruthless process by which a former Youngling prepares to serve the League. Cats are not promoted until they are up to the Nemesis' standard, and mentors have full authority over their trainees.
Zalaph-kun and Innocentia Stryker-kun and Omega ]] thread Gucci-kun and Batair Versace-kun and Daedric ]] thread Armani-kun and Solaris ]] thread Corax-kun and Arete Dior-kun and Aconite ]] thread Givenchy-kun and Corvus ]] thread Elyon-kun and Nypheris ]] thread
N E W S 4.29.19 Warden [and Proxy] try-outs are now open! See the try-outs tab above.
A L L I A N C E S none, currently
E N E M I E S none, currently
N E U T R A L all groups and clans
S T A T U S
How is Primal Instinct doing? Where are they? How's the weather? What is prey like? Find all those answers and more here, for roleplay purposes.
Location: Island Plans: Return to old territory by the end of July Strategy: Isolationism
Month: May Weather: Warm, humid, breezy Prey: Moderate Overall Health: Good
LEADERSHIP
― NEMESIS― The Nemesis is the highest achievement that any cat in Primal Instinct can receive. They are now the top cat, leader of the entire League and with such comes that responsibility. The Nemesis of the group is the leader and the most respected feline in the entire league they manage every aspect of the group. Each Nemesis has 8 lives and the prefix or suffix "E'tan or E'tani" is added onto their name. Once a Nemesis steps down the Warden succeeds them.
TBA E'TAN roleplayed by blankslate
Lives: 8/8 Mate: none Kits: none Trainee: none Nemesis since May 15th, 2019
bio tba
― WARDEN― Congratulations. You stayed alive long enough to be promoted all the way from Youngling to Warden. These means you know have a whole new load of responsibilities from deeming when Younglings are ready to be made Trainees, what Hunters have shown the necessary qualities to become a proxy, and who your next target is. Be forewarned - it is easy to crack under this pressure and do not assume that once you have this position you will keep it.
TRY-OUTS SOON roleplayed by tbd
Mate: n/a Kits: n/a Trainee: n/a Warden since tbd, 2019
bio tba
HEALING
― SHAMAN― The Shaman is third most powerful cat in the League, the healer of Primal Instinct, she holds the power of life and death in her paws. It is their responsibility to know the territory around them as well as the herbs that grow in it. Once they feel their apprentice has gained enough knowledge, they pass on the title of Shaman and all the privileges that come with it. With the knowledge of the poisonous toxins and herbs, they can be a very dangerous enemy. The Shaman often works with the Pathologist to discuss latest developments in medical research.
MORGANA roleplayed by Blankslate
"If you are clever enough to bring destruction upon me, rest assured that I shall do as much to you." The enchantress, born overshadowed and forgotten within her mothers larger than life's presence. Morgana had to fight to be heard, had to claw her way to renown. She was not born blessed, was not born with her path already set before her. No one took any special notice over her compared to any of her other siblings. Which meant that from the moment Morgana was young she has been fighting her way to the top of the tower, has been clawing at those holding her from a crown of her own. Not afraid to cut out the competition, using any means available to her, the beauty of her pelt and features, the curling temptation of her words, the wicked promises made from a shallow well she called her heart. Morgana stepped over the corpses of those she left behind to claim her right as her mothers heir. Curled her lip towards those who spoke of wrongdoings and cruelty. For Morgana is of the deep seated belief that it is every cat for themselves, so much so that she does not shy from turning those who might seek her care away if she believes it below her notice, or a waste of her time. A lost cause is a lost cause and she would rather not waste resources on them. The mother of ravens, she has always had an avinity for the smart vengeful birds. Often feeding them little scraps and leaving them little trinkets that caused them to bring her some in return, bestowing upon her the moniker the raven queen. So deep seated her affection for the birds she named her only daughter after them, hoping Ravenna would gain at-least a piece of what made ravens such remarkable birds. Her standards are strict, only accepting the best and often cruel in her desire for it; trying to force perfection upon others. Her mate an arranged sort of thing, Morgana having searched the tom out, going as far to spend days away searching for what she considered the perfect tom. Though others might consider him more a monster dressed up pretty. Then again he makes a perfect match to Morgana, a witch pretending to be a patron saint.
Mate: Altaire Kits: Ravenna-chan, Arwan-chan, Altayr-chan, Avalon-chan, Aodhan-chan, Albion-chan, Alma-chan Trainee: Ravenna-chan Shaman since March 3rd, 2019
― MAGE― The Mage is the daughter of the current or previous Shamans. She-cats are the only kits that may become a Mage with a maximum of one kit at a time. They begin to learn the art of herbs, both the miracles and the poisons. It is up to the current Shaman to dream when and if the apprentice is ready to become a full Shaman. There is only one mage at a time in the league and when promoted, they become the shaman and must also train a mage.
RAVENNA-CHAN roleplayed by Effy
"I’m sending a raven with blood on its wings.” Perched upon slim legs, and deadly ivory claws. A creature emerging from a Renaissance painting, with golden rosettes and feathery tufts of fur. A graceful daredevil with her paws in the fountain of life. The breath of faith had her chosen long before she walk or see. Through the blood of the womb no magic could reach her. But her first breath, an innocent star in a dark, ever-changing world, she was bound to light it up. The wind ran her hands through her delicate fur, silent nights brought down from heaven spoke of her bright future. However, unlike her mother and her mother before that, Ravenna was not chosen because of 'faith'. The best, most honorable achievements are those given to you because of skill. Not simply gifted. Perhaps that makes Ravenna all the more intriguing Perhaps she would have still stood out to her mother, Xithymia, the cold scientist of the League. All bengal cats, the mystic creatures with blood ties to greater cat ancestors, look mostly the same. Even those who exude power and confidence. But Reva, with eyes like a lamb's and a voice like bird's song, is an entirely different being. She carries her beloved spotted pelt in an way only replicated by her mother. Unlike her siblings who resemble a cross bred bengal, she looks like a pure devil, someone birthed in the Prime of Pravus Nocte. Her snowy pelt as much as it looks like Xithymia's is softer; less harsh than her mother's dark rosettes, golden and light brown, opened like blossoming roses. Her eyes are as sharp as the top of a mountain, icy and blue but still hold a look that could persuade the most immovable of cats. But unlike her pelt, Ravenna feels no connection to the feline she calls 'mother'. She had always felt neglected by her, or if not that had to live in fear of her. What must one do to endure stress? Is this how it feels to be 'important' in the eyes of the league? One could say this practice of ripping away the innocence of the daughter so she will be reformed to create and destroy is cruel. But is that something Ravenna can miss? After all, this is her whole life. And with a life so demanding of perfection, one must adapt. And so she became stealthy, and flawless. A mysterious beauty cloaked in snow, with viridescent eyes sparkling with rage. The young feline is akin to an ice statue; beautiful and stoic, yet icy to the touch, willing to turn you into one of her many creations if you cross paths with the grim reaper. She is one or the other; all, or nothing. For she is the devil with a mask of gold. Her eyes hide a wonderful kind of sadness, one that keeps you hooked to it. She’ll have you so enthralled in her ridiculous ideas you won’t even realize until you start thrashing. With such demands for her growth, Reva is an intelligent soul. Perhaps wise, to some extent, and always looking for some to challenge her ideals. Someone to argue with the way she thinks. There is, perhaps, nothing more thrilling than having someone disagree with you. However, being pushed to far can have an affect on her too. Ravenna has a certain temper; some may call her impetuous, or, more flatteringly, headstrong. She has a distinct sense for truthfulness, always ready to tell it like she sees it and values others being honest with her above all else. She takes little nonsense from others, even those above her in age, when she can tell they are talking down to her. Despite her spunky attitude, she is able to stay mature, and take her responsibilities seriously, unlike most other felines with her personality.
Mate: n/a Kits: n/a Mage since January 19th, 2019
RESEARCH
― PATHOLOGIST― The Pathologist is the parallel of the Shaman and has domain over death. The Pathologist is not a healer, but rather a researcher, constantly seeking to discover the limits and capabilities of the feline body. Experimental concoctions are created and tested, primitive procedures are performed, and new medicines are discovered. The Pathologist has a large hand in researching biological warfare, manipulating viruses and using various subjects as experimental conduits. The Pathologist often confers with the Shaman to relay developments in medical breakthroughs, and will also work with the Assassin when investigating suspicious deaths. A defining trait of the Pathologist, called the Sight, is their ability to see the haunted souls of the dead, and some may think of this more as a curse than a gift. On rare occasions, the souls will communicate short, cryptic phrases to the Pathologist, often containing a warning or a prediction. The Pathologist will train a Resident, who is the biological son or daughter of the current Pathologist and shows signs of the Sight at a young age.
SOLARIS roleplayed by xxsunlight
Humble origins to ultimate control, Solaris spent his life climbing the ladder of Primal Instinct. To assume that this was luck of the draw would be to underestimate this seemingly taciturn tom. He was born to former rogue parents who had been initiated into the League, and grew up among the cats of Primal Instinct. He learned their ways, became acquainted with their way of life. Trained from a young age to kill, Solaris became one of the best. Part of this is due to his size- he is an immense ginger tom, powerfully built and robust. He learned early to compensate for his slower speed, and gained somewhat of a reputation for his fighting abilities. Over the years, his few outspoken enemies had a tendency to mysteriously disappear. On the surface, Solaris seems more unassuming that the other cats in the League. He is slow to speak, preferring to listen and analyze. When he does speak, his voice is measured and composed, his words carefully selected. He never reacts out of pure emotion, which makes him a different brand of deadly than the typical Primal Instinct cat. Solaris bides his time, he plans and schemes and kills with a lethal intentionality. This former Nemesis has a soft side, surprisingly. He works for the good of the League, and was more connected to the cats of the League than a regular Nemesis. He caught the eye of the last ruler, Vera E’tani, with his training of the weakest cats of the League. Half a year into his reign, however, he was blinded suddenly in a badger attack, and was forced to step down from his position. After he was blinded he gained the elusive and mysterious power of the Sight, and agreed to serve as Pathologist. He has recovered well from his injury, learning to navigate and explore the world through different means. Though he may appear altruistic, you would be wise not to double-cross this tom; he holds enormous power and lacks inhibitions about spilling blood to get his way.
Mate: Savagnin Kits: coming soon Trainee: Sable-kun Lives: 6 [former Nemesis] Pathologist since May 15th, 2019
― RESIDENT― The Resident is the trainee of the Pathologist, who spends every waking moment from the time they are appointed working under their biological parent, the Pathologist. The Resident will often do the grunt work of the research, such as subject monitoring, herb observation, and evidence analysis. The Resident follows a rigorous training schedule as well, learning the facts and secrets of the feline body through gruesome methods. From a young age, the Resident is chosen through their expression of the Sight, which is the inborn ability to see the souls of the dead.
SABLE-KUN roleplayed by Faith
If you’ve ever felt that life is so predictable that you can see the future then you’ve walked in the paws of Sable. She could paint the stars on the back of her paws so she could say the universe is like the back of her paw. Dark ashen colors spill across her pelt as if she flew through a storm cloud. She has piercing shades of white like lightning shocking nights into day in a bengal pattern peaking along her long furred legs like moonlight twinkling through clouds. Her marigold eyes are as gentle as flower petals with a featherlight motion that sends beloved chills down anyone’s spine. She has a hourglass figured body with a triangular face and pointed nose. A slow lazy smile descends from her lips and her manicured claws often habitually drum against hard surfaces. She’s someone who carries a heavy heart not like a ball on a chain, but a relic worth possessing. Her souls a bit messy, but an organized chaos. She’s not the type of girl to look nice, she looked like art, meant to make someone feel something rather than stare at a pretty picture. She has a real magic about her, not the fake theatrical kind, but the type you witness in nature in all its messy glory.
Mate: n/a Kits: n/a Resident since January 2nd, 2019
PROTECTION
― ASSASSIN― This cat is the most elite Hunter in the league and trained vigorously in the perfect art of killing. His or her sole purpose is to be the individual fighting force of the league, protecting the Nemesis at all costs. The Assassin is chosen from among the Hunters once the position is vacant but is not in line for the throne, unlike the Proxies.
BATAIR roleplayed by Jetclaw
A charcoal bengal with metallic golden eyes, a demon to be feared in Pravian culture. Kept alive by the blood of royalty flowing through his veins from his father Arden, and his grandmother Vera. He is dramatic, cocky, and flamboyant but just as much of a killer as his kin. He has a flare for the dramatics but his methods of death dealing are subtle, favoring poisons and other quieter means. He is a trickster, and hard to trace. He’ll leave the more brutal killings to his littermates, his theatrics are preferred elsewhere.
Mate: n/a Kits: n/a Trainee: Gucci-kun Assassin since April 15th, 2019
― PROXIES― These are the four most elite of the league who have proved their worth to the Nemesis. They are chosen from the assassin and hunters to become the four cats of which the next Warden will be chosen from. The other three members will stay Proxies for the rest of their lives of until another Warden needs to be chosen. The Proxies will either remain Proxies or will be demoted back to hunters. Two oversee the Hunters, patrols and rule enforcement. One oversees the training of Trainees. The last oversees the Prisoners, Prison Guards, and punishment of trespassers.
ALTAIRE roleplayed by IAN Assignment: Hunters A buff-colored Egyptian Mau, who's coat swirls between darker and lighter rivulets. His gaze, often appearing unimpressed, is a deep yellow. Make no mistake; they are not golden. They are a venomous yellow, sinister in nature. He is a muscular tom, although he is smaller in stature. He is not so small that he cannot stand his ground, though. He is more than willing to put others into their place. Crossing him is probably not in your wisest of interests, although it never is with Primal Instinct felines. However, he doesn't always look like this is true. Out of the group, he perhaps seems to be one of the less sinister. Although truly monstrous in nature, he packages himself well. One might not guess his true nature if they don't look too closely at him, do not look too deeply into his eyes. He can be quite giving. He is an easy cat to talk to, however speaking to him is a grave mistake. He collects the secrets of others, ready to use them to his best advantage. Most of the things that he does are done to his advantage, including his love life. He is the mate of Morgana, the Shaman of Primal Instinct. He was sought out to be the husband of the patron witch. The two are almost perfect for each other in that way, both much different in reality than appearance, however there is no love between the two.
SENESCENCE roleplayed by HONEYSTORM Assignment: Prisoners Crimson tears and a shattered soul. She's loved and lost, and loved and lost it all again. And it broke her, she decided it wasn't worth it. Kindness, justice, morality, they are just the lies we tell ourselves, the selfish creeds we hold ourselves to so that we can call everyone else degenerates and beasts. To Senescence, everyone is a monster at heart, out for themselves and no one else. And she, the feline of blood laced with shadow, with a heart of stone and a mask of apathy, is the worst of them. Daughter of the former Warden, Rake, and the former Deacon, Proxy, Assassin, and now DayClan leader, Green, now called Glowstar, she bears a naturally tall frame, with claws that have seen more death than perhaps any cat in the League. Born to the League as Naveen, she disappeared early on in her youth, to where, no one knows, save for Senescence. She was forced to fight for twoleg pleasure, and resistance cost her both the eyesight in her left eye, and her naive, innocent spirit. It fragmented her, and just when she started putting herself back together, found love and hope at last, she was made to kill yet again, this time her lover, and the father of the kit she carried. Her child taken from her the moment she was weaned, it was this final act that caused the cracks to widen, her soul to fragment into so many pieces it could never be put back together again. She stood atop the ranks of her wretched home, and from there she hatched a plan. Poison, murder, and bloodthirsty dogs released from their cages, killing all the captured creatures within. And then, the building, in the middle of nowhere, went up with flames, no survivors left within to tell the tale, except for one. A creature of shadow and light, blood and fire, with a void's gaze and seared flesh to remember the past. Senescence found her way back to the League in time, with a new name, new face, new attitude, and innumerable scars to hint at the life she'd lived before, though she refused to explain to anyone what had happened, her past wrapped up in an endless mystery cats only dare to guess at. In time, she grew accustomed to her birthplace, ever the uncaring and unfazed she-cat, twice a proxy, a cat who managed to outlive numerous Nemesis all the while putting herself into situations far more dangerous than most would dare to try. She is the grim reaper, a cat who's skills lie in all forms of death and destruction, a being without empathy, kindness, or loyalty to any cause. Senescence would kill a leaguemate as she would a kittypet, kit, or member of her own family. Wild and uncontrollable, and easily picked out of a crowd, if not for the scars, for the mismatched haint blue and blind violet eyes, and for the rusted necklace with it's bloodstained, slate gray stone that rests lightly against her white chest. But a beast chained to one's side is still preferable to one allowed to roam free, and the she-cat is chained by her own apathy. For she cares not what others say, and follows her own whims, though most often does as she is told, simply out of a lack of care to try and challenge the status quo. Yet, a chained beast can still break free and attack it's masters, and it's but a matter of time before Senescence tears her chains to shreds, and becomes a beast who follows no one. The question is, on whom will she turn her claws?
CORVUS roleplayed by BLUE Assignment: Hunters She’s always walked as though she’s above everyone else; always treated everyone as though her blood marked her as inherently superior. It doesn’t matter to her, never did and likely never will, that the lineage she can lay claim to is one only a few know anything about. Few know the name ‘Raven E’tani’, and many of those that do only know her name among a list of those the infamous Vera E’tani killed in her rise to power and the lives of a proper nemesis. But of the even fewer that might know what the ancient nemesis looked like, the resemblance this headstrong she-cat bears is hard to refute. Same sleek black pelt; same icy blue eyes; same silver paw, though instead of only one paw both of her forepaws are marked the same color. The name she claimed when she first wandered into the League as a reckless young kitten following stories passed down from her kin, Corvus, was one given to her in a nod to the she-cat which she seems to have taken after so much. Abrasive, violent, and more than a little unstable at times, she certainly has taken after her ancestor, though it seems she took after all the worst parts. She doesn’t seem to have inherited any of the traits that truly made Raven the nemesis she once was. Where Raven was once sly and manipulative, Corvus is loud and willing to throw her weight, little as it may sometimes be, around to get her way. Where Raven was once a deadly, silent huntress, Corvus enjoys toying with victims that usually ends up only being Leaguemates she has chosen to torment. What she took after was the worst, final moons of Raven’s leadership, with her borderline madness. This modern-day blackbird is determined to leave a legacy of her own, greater even than that of her ancestor. She’s already taken steps to do so. Returned to the position of proxy a second time with a litter of children to carry on her story and that of Raven, Corvus is confident she will get the respect and power she deserves eventually. She never was a very patient sort of cat, though.
NAME roleplayed by USERNAME Assignment: Trainees bio here.
― HUNTERS― Destined to be the ever protectors and primary fighting force of the League, these are the cats who excel at either tracking, hunting, or fighting. They are the first to explore a new territory and fend off any of the dangers that may arise. The code is simple- kill or be killed.
BLYTHE roleplayed by Blue There is a certain beauty in death. The subtle scarlet dye of blood, the passionate final light before their eyes go empty, the vicious throes that eventually grow still as death consumes. No cat knows this beauty more than Blythe. She drapes herself in the shadowy cloak of the reaper, adapting the night to serve under her for her desires, seeing herself as a cat who frees others, showing them the elegance of their demise in the moments before they slip away. When a kit her pelt was a pretty golden, the shadowy spots and stripes dancing across her pelt adopted from her mother, the blood-thirsty Vera E’tani. As she grew older, though, it has grown common to find her pelt spotted in scarlets, the paws of her youth long lost to seemingly be permanently dyed with blood. Her eyes became that of a true artist, the soft green keen on details and certain to be sure every piece fits exactly where it needs to be. It isn’t quite surprising she has developed a lust for murder as she aged, surrounded by a group whose hunger for blood never sates and kin to the deadliest of those cats. However, Blythe has always taken it to a strange level few can say they match. She makes art of her kills, often waxing poetic if ever asked of a life ended by her claws. The scenes she leaves in her wake are often brutal, though she only sees them as beautiful. She creates elaborate, gruesome pieces of her victims’ bodies, making shows of how they are left. If she were no feline she would certainly be labeled a serial killer, her pieces her signature she always leaves behind. With one cat she may carve elaborate designs into their pelt, the thick welling of smooth red contrasting against the rough scarlet where fur has already been stained. With another she may decide to resemble life in death would be a suitable pursuit, though not in the respectful way a Clan cat may try. In a horrible way that forces bones where they do not fit and flesh in shapes they should not become. Regardless of what sort of mutilation they may undergo, it is clear Blythe bears no honor for the dead. She doesn’t even find fault in the taste of cat flesh, all too willing to allow that prey to accompany that which may more commonly fill a cat’s belly. She is a disturbing feline, a twisted mind who sees good in the lives she ends. Or as much good as a cat of Primal Instinct can believe in. She sees no gory mess, no shattered lives, only the beauty in her wake, shards of bone lining her path ahead and streaks of scarlet trailing her path behind.
CROW roleplayed by Blue Left over from a legacy long since faded to little more than a memory. Few cats still seem to linger from the bloodline he can claim descent from, but for a time that didn’t stop his search for the stories. For many moons he wandered from Clan to group to rogue to loner, picking up trails of cats of same blood scattered throughout the territories, known as Crowseeker by the Clans and simply Crow by the others. That was a while ago, though. Before the New Order that forced him to realize how vain his goal was. He had free reign to continue his search at first, able to see where others may lie after the names that first drew him to Primal Instinct seemed to disappear. When Vera E’tani rose to power, however, all that stopped. He couldn’t leave the League anymore as he had before. Not without fear of death. And the stubbornness with which he clung to the ways of a long-dead Clan would likely lead down a similar path. And so he only carries his lineage, that of the once-powerful CrowClan, through his blood. The titles and his mission, to seek out all those that could be considered kin through the blood of Crows, have since been abandoned in favor of adapting to his rapidly changing home. It has been quite some time since he spoke of a tom from long ago named Souris, the child of a See’r and a Scion that he once openly claimed to be his ancestor despite the only evidence being his own word. It never helped him much in the past, and now no one cares, especially since his appearance takes little after the cats he can claim the blood of, possessing neither the brownish gold pelt and blue eyes of Souris or the ginger-blazed black fur and bright green eyes of his ancestor’s mother, Burn. While his pelt is marked with ginger, the black and white that accompanies the rich orange patched across his fur seems to mark him as a calico– though at the genetic level he is more chimera than a genetically abnormal male calico – with a pelt far thicker than either of his more recent significant ancestors. His eyes also don’t speak closely to his history, though perhaps not as far from his pelt, eyes at least a shade towards his ancestor as a chartreuse yellow color. A time ago his personality may have affirmed his lineage at least somewhat, with a sharp tongue and short temper that only ever held back amongst those that shared the same CrowClan ancestry. He rarely held back on his claws if it removed an annoyance, but the New Order seems to have brought about a huge shift in this tom. Where he was once quick to lash out he has grown casual, his old passion for his self-assigned mission fading to what is now a somewhat disheartened tom. He doesn’t show the latter change. Not openly. But he has given up his impossible dream to see the Clan of Crow whole again. It has long since passed from memory to fairy tales to all but those who lived through those stories. And himself. He won’t forget what he’s been told, but no longer are his paws dragged along with only that purpose behind the continued beat of his heart. All that has remained almost untouched by Primal Instinct being turned on its head is his sense of loyalty, the tom hesitant to give that away freely. He may no longer have his head filled with tales of cats long-since gone by, but that doesn’t mean he will blindly remain loyal to every cat. The League has his allegiance, and to an extent the leadership and those of medical skill, but outside of that it will be no easy task to gain his loyalty. You must fight for it. He may have lost his purpose, but even a dispirited crow can find a new place in this ever-changing world.
HAVOC roleplayed by Blue He was born under a different name as a very different cat. He’s always had anger bubbling just below the surface, but in the past that anger was directed towards himself and merely spilled over against his will onto others. He’s never been the most stable of cats, critical and cold, but as his whole world seemed to change his fragile psyche struggled to keep up. And ultimately, it didn’t. It only fractured, into hundreds of rage-filled, vicious pieces. His fur is almost entirely a sleek pitch black, short and outlining his lean yet powerful figure. Long white whiskers break up the shadow of his pelt, and a dash of white outlining what seems the shape of a blaze on his muzzle interrupts what would otherwise be seamless lack of color. The area around his mouth is white, though not quite entirely, a dash of black interrupting along the right side of his jaw. Around his nose and up his muzzle the white creeps further, though the contrasting color is only a faint halo around the top of his muzzle, half-there sweeps of milky fur almost but not quite brushing under his odd eyes. Speaking of his eyes, while they could be referred to as mismatched, at a distance they don’t appear that way. There is only a faint difference, a shade off between the two optics. His left eye is a sickly yet bright yellow-green color, but his right eye seems glossed over with an orange accent, setting it off ever so subtly from its pair. For moons he hated these half-there flaws in his appearance, wishing he hadn’t been born with the asymmetry he could never quite ignore. Then he stopped caring. He used to be MoonClan, answering to the name Risingproblem. Even back then, it seemed someone had seen the horrible path he was destined to follow down into the shadows he has since found himself among. But he’s fallen a long way since then. It started with an outsider arriving in a leaderless time of turmoil, Wastedyouth who claimed herself as an exiled princess of BrookClan. He didn’t trust her, his hesitance only bolstered by the shared mistrust of a Clanmate, Jaynoire. Then she became leader. Yes, she helped protect the Clan from an attack by their rivals, SunClan, but that didn’t mean she deserved to be leader. She was an outsider. Things only got worse from there, the she-cat who dared now call herself Wastedstar accepting another outsider as her deputy. Then she tried to banish StarClan of all things. He couldn’t believe she’d dare try such a thing, and again Jaynoire thought the same. Tensions rose in MoonClan until, the morning after a Gathering suspiciously absent of any of the leader’s dissenters, they broke into battle. Clanmate turned on Clanmate, and for Risingproblem claws were turned on those he had always considered close siblings. Jaynoire managed to kill the unworthy Wastedstar, and yet she revived to exile him and completely change the entirety of MoonClan. He withdrew from his Clanmates, disowning his siblings. His anger bubbled, now focused on the crumbling meaning of the word ‘Clan’ thanks to this rogue posing as leader. His resolution to being a true warrior eventually snapped. He followed her on the solo hunts she so commonly took off on, stalked her to the crescent stone she often contemplated upon, and attempted to steal the remaining lives Jaynoire hadn’t quite taken. He took one, catching her by surprise, but the presence of an unknown onlooker prevented him from taking any more. Sterlingdiadem, the cat that after became Wastedstar’s deputy, stopped him before he could take any more lives. Now it was his turn to be exiled after only getting one part closer to the rogue’s death. He had no more Clan, no more kin. He missed it for a time, but it wasn’t long before he no longer cared. His anger had broken him. Not long after this fracture he heard of the devastating attack on his former home by Primal Instinct, news that turned his paws in the direction of the bloodthirsty League. He didn’t care about preserving Clan life like he had before. Clans were falling to invented Gods and mad customs left and right. He was no longer a rising problem as he had been called as a Clan cat. He has embraced the terror and destruction he had become. All he cares about now is aiding the League in their ultimate destruction. Only out to cause Havoc on the world that has only ever scorned him.
ALEXANDRIA roleplayed by Honeystorm Black panther like pelt with a snow leopard print from her chest fluffing up to her shoulders like a big fur scarf. She has gorgeous frosted green eyes like her mother. She looks even more like her sister Monique. They could each commit a crime, but no one would know which one did it. Despite the beautifully sleek fur and lean, toned body that just screams royalty, Alexandria is a rare breed who seems to fade into the background with nothing more than a secretive smile, only for a cat to wind up dead. Subtle are her methods, sneaking and poison, her Shaman blood sparking curiosity in things more than the ways of claws and tongue. She, more than many others, is not the cat to cross. No, she won't confront you directly, humiliate you in front of your peers, but she will slowly leech the life from you and your loved ones, forcing you to watch everything fall around you before you yourself succumb to the void, only to disappear without a trace, not even allowing such satisfaction as knowing your killer will be brought to light. Quiet, relatively respectful, and seemingly obedient, Alexandria may seem a touch out of place among the rough characters she grew up with, but inside, there's that same, endless darkness just waiting to be unleashed on the world.
FUJIN roleplayed by Honeystorm Finding a free spirit is hard in a place such as the League. Harder still is it to find someone so absolutely energetic and carefree, full of laughter and cheer even in the darkest of moments, one so utterly incapable of seriousness or understanding consequences. Fujin is such a cat. Nothing bothers him. His laughter rings through the trees as readily as his claws rip through flesh, and to him, there is no such thing as fear, worry, or regret. There is only the thrill of the chase, the adrenaline coursing through his veins in every waking moment, the death defying stunts and risking it all. For him, there is no other way to live. As such, he as amassed a sort of cult following, of those who worship his energy and are fascinated by the tom's complete and utter insanity. There is no cat who speaks and ill word to his face, lest their blood paint the ground seconds later to the raucous laughter and joy of those whom he associates with. The brown tabby is the light of the party, his green gaze permanently alight with reckless fervor, always on the edge of losing it all, his white tipped toes almost permanently stained with the blood of his victims. He is the high roller, the careless, the carefree, and the crazy. Now, why don't you come along and he'll show you a good time?
MAIA roleplayed by Honeystorm A mostly gray-black she-cat with wisps of ginger and white running through her thick fur, the huntress is said to be rather pretty, for good reason. Her golden eyes sparkle, entrancing her enemies, while her claws let the blood fly with skillful swipes. Even so, she was not made to be a fighter of the League. No, as destiny would have it, she was always fated to be a mother, to bring to life the new generations of the League and keep the bloodthirsty group strong. Though she first fought her role in the world upon finding out about being pregnant, she has ultimately accepted what life has brought to her, and vows to serve Primal Instinct in the best way she can, by raising worthwhile hunters.
ZAKIYYAH roleplayed by Honeystorm A being of shadow and blood with the secretive smile of a temptress. A crimson devil with angel eyes and a crown of death. As long as she's lived, she has always been the pride of her family. Promised a place among the Regime's spies from birth, daughter of two renowned Sentinels with a powerful lineage on both sides, she's always basked in the limelight while her littermates simply faded into the background. She's never known a situation she couldn't manipulate, a place she couldn't escape from without a moment's notice. Until Kotori tore down everything she knew. Her family was torn to shreds in front of her. Her brother, who had always been in the background, finally given his fifteen minutes of gory fame. Miracle wanted revenge. Shule wanted to forget. And Zakiyyah... well, she wanted to get to the bottom of it all. So when Kotori escaped the certain death of custody by the Regime, she decided to follow, if a bit late, after him. Defecting from all she knew, she left the world where she was everything, to one where her name was hardly worthy of being remembered by friend and foe alike, recognized by a single inhabitant, who, by all rights, she expected to have a dim view of her. Even so, the doll eyed demon is hardly demoralized. Her skills here are useful in a different way. Cunning, with china doll blue eyes that peer deeply into the soul, she is a cat with a silver tongue, quick paws, and a height to be jealous of, allowing her to look down on most everyone around her. Her medium pelt is interesting in its own right, for she wears a deep auburn dress that encompasses her torso shoulders, culminating in a low V down her chest, paired with forepaws gloved in white, leaving the rest of her limbs, tail, and face the darkest shade of ebony, save for a smattering of bloody freckles and scarlet lacing on her ears that connects with a braided band between them, giving the appearance of a tiara to match her regal grace and dangerous tongue. She may be a princess without power, but did it really matter when she could finally, truly embrace life as a crimson devil?
INNOCENTIA roleplayed by Faith She is a small trainee sized she-cat with a big pink bow tied around her neck and a golden bell attached to the ribbon. Do not underestimate her size or looks because it makes this little she-devil that much more lethal. She will often poised as a lost kitten aged kittypet in order to get clan cats to pity her. Once they come near her true strength comes out. She has unusually long and sharp fangs and will EAT other cats. Her insanity went in a downwards spiral after her mother Mouse did not choose her for mage. Her real name is Moth, but her light grey fur as she has aged has changed to an innocent snowy white and is practically unrecognizable. She has a disembodied high childlike voice with yellow eyes that look crippling to stare into.
KOTORI roleplayed by Faith Kotori is a small jet black tom with a half crescent moon face and exotic gilded green eyes like his fathers and a long scar over his right shoulder. He has a high snarky, naturally sarcastic voice that often gets him in trouble. He comes from Renegade Regime, but is a quarter Primal Instincts. This prince of ultimate sass is known as the graduation day serial killer back in his home clan. He killed three retired medicine cats and two of his siblings as well as injuring an elder, three kits, and an apprentice with an a failed attempt at murdering his father. He stole the extra lives of the chamans and leaders in order to have nine for his dearly beloved Cyra to have. His murder all from the result of two star crossed lovers. Silver scars outline his body, desperate defensive wounds his victims inflicted upon him. He may take some offense if someone called him ugly so he often pampers himself, covering up the scars with anything that could blend into his liquid black fur. It’s not uncommon to see him sharpening his claws into a perfect manicure just for him to chew them up again. Despite being a murderer his anxiety levels are higher than he lets anyone know. He often gives backhanded sassy comments towards other people as a coping mechanism and calling him a compulsive liar wouldn’t be far from the truth. His compulsive lies are what brought him to his murder spree, constantly faking tears and smiles towards people he never liked. Repressing back the storm inside of him until it came free on his graduation day as a spy. He is capable of caring for others, but never above his own life, except for Cyra who he will kill and die for. However he holds a distrust towards everyone despite no one giving him a reason to distrust them. He’s often a coward to his own emotions.
AVA roleplayed by Jetclaw Ava lacks the ability to truly feel emotions. Try as she might she can't feel anything, she was brought into the league by Crimson, who suggested that perhaps what she needed was pursuing battle and blood. Unfortunately it is not battle that gets Ava's blood pumping, and truly feel something for once, it is cats. Once she finds a cat she wants she'll do everything to make them hers. Be it as a 'friend' or as a mate. They're hers, but in turn she is also theirs. Fortunately thanks to her training, Ava has plenty of tactics and tricks to get what she wants, or destroy what gets in her way. Ava is a dark tabby she cat with a white muzzle, white paws and amber eyes.
DAEDRIC roleplayed by Primordialhaze The Warlord. Seemingly empowered by a nuclear compression of aggression and fury. A tom blinded by opinion and instinct. Daedric doesn't wast his time thinking through a situation or playing games with compromise. Why dance in the frills of democracy when you could simply demand the respect and fealty of others? Why pray to an unseen being when you could be the being they pray to? From the time he was a youngling nestled in the fur of his mother, Vera E'tani, he had always been forthcoming. Pushing siblings out of the way for the warmest spot in the nest or making his discomforts known to whole of the den. By the time he could walk and talk the clan knew this tom was bound to follow in the direct paw steps of his mother. Bearing a dark golden pelt and distinct black bangle markings he easily blends into his surroundings. His demeanor and coat seemingly weaved from the essence of the league. Perhaps its purest form. Raw in hate, savage need, and primal instinct. While his form and attitude speak a tale of carnage and blood soft moss green eyes could lead anyone to trust. Promising protection, stability, and a fruitful future. No wonder he's so good with the she-cats. His hot headed style makes him less popular with the toms some even including his own brothers who think him always competing for an invisible male alpha prize. On the other paw hes placed himself in a position of protector over his sisters. Scaring off possible mates and sometimes even landing blows hard enough to kill. To him no tom is good enough for them. Specially not one who can't beat him. He considers himself the standard for any possible male suitor. While his sisters may hate him for this, he knows someday they will thank him.
INARI roleplayed by PrimordialHaze Some folks think the night is a charmer. A dark lover who is all consuming yet fleeting when its tattletale brother, Day, tries to peek into the shadows. Inari is like the night, A silver tongued Casanova with one thing on his mind. Perhaps it is the result of the lack of affection in his youth, or perhaps the effect of early unknown abuse. Inari latches onto she-cats for a time, lavishes them in gifts, romance, and all things adoring, then when his eyes cloud over he turns away and forgets her name. Inari is not the type of cat to forge long lasting trusting relationship and by far he is defiantly not the type to raise a kit into a cat. Matter fact he is more likely to claim himself infertile then claim a litter of responsibility. Inari is a large black tom with layer on muscles and built for a good fight. His eyes are a dark warm welcoming amber, his voice deep and rollings. Like his brothers, Raijin and Fijin he has white tipped front paws. He gets along well enough with his brothers but he also has an opinion, Raijin's underlining weakness irritates him yet in a bind Raijin seems to be the more responsible of the three. Fujin is a gambler and Inari thinks someday that'll be his undoing. Though if you ever want a game of who can catch the first trespasser Inari would always place his fortune on Fujin.
DRISCAL roleplayed by Spottedleaffan21 A dark, twisted minded, cold hearted brown and white tabby tom with burning amber eyes with specks of orange as if fire was being held captive inside a deep, glossy prison. He has a broad head, broad shoulders, and half of his ear missing caused by being ripped off by a dog he had come face to face with in the twoleg lands. This particular tom is not one anyone can easily forget. With his ruthless glare, he can send cats fleeing with their tails between their legs with just a single glance. This feline is no cat. The best way to describe him is as a monster. Former rogue, he was imprisoned by the cats of Primal Instinct. Though after requesting initiation he was eventually promoted to being a hunter. However, sometimes he feels that being a hunter is too much of a low position for him. He has ambitions to be more powerful. If that will ever happen, he isn’t sure but it would be nice to watch pathetic cats bow to him and obey his every order.
DESIREE roleplayed by stardance The sun sets on a world of pain and agony and ushers in a night of suffering and fear. It is quite relaxing, isn't it? The stench, or aroma, of fear everywhere, the sticky traces of blood on the walls. It soothes the soul. Desiree is calmed by such smells and actions. She has always been inquisitive, eager to learn what makes something tick, if anything a little to inquisitive. She wants to learn what drives something, but only to learn how to control it. That core personality gives way to other more layered parts of the she-cat. She is prideful of her work, perhaps more so than she should be. Being she was raised in a prime of the New Order, she lacks sympathy in casual conversation. Sympathy is reserved for the privileged, not the weak commoner. After all, she does not want to participate in perpetuating weakness. Such a thing would be repulsive. Her eyes are a frosted jade green. Her fur is primarily red with some black undertones. Silver flecks run down her body as if an ember was fighting for its life. She is the daughter of Belarus and Terrain. She knows she has powerful blood, but she does not draw any part of herself from there. Such a thing would lead to arrogance, which would, in time, evolve into oversight. Oversight would allow others to beat her than she could slaughter. It would be weakness. Obvious, intolerable, and dire weakness.
OMEGA roleplayed by stardance The omega. The weakest one. The submissive one. The disrespected one. The one who no one cares about. The one who is not essential. The one who is underestimated, ostracized and alienated. The one whose desire for strength and revenge is unparalleled. The one whose claws will one day rip out the throat of phony authority, and replace it with a glorious examples of sheer triumph: victory over a higher power, annihilation of a sworn enemy and abolition of an immoral code. The one is Omega. His power and strength is derived from his past self's submissiveness and weakness. Life is the cruelest thing. Omega was born into Toxicity, though as the runt of the litter. He was weak. Helpless. Useless. Not worth protecting. That is law in Toxicity, is it not? If you can't protect yourself, you can't protect the group. You are not worth protecting. It would be easier to just not exist. Less pain, less suffering; but strength has its roots in struggle, not ease. Omega grew faster because he was so weak. His strength became unmatched against his brothers, all of whom died because of disease, blood loss and plain stupidity. He became more authoritative, more of a leader after the death of his brothers, some of the only things acting as anchor to his weak roots. Unbound, Omega's strength is limitless. No more restraints! No more brotherly envy! Only a growing desire for revenge on the apparent lack of authority that allowed a kithood to be thrown into a tumultuous downfall remained. He respects the authority of the Strategos and his superiors, but he doesn't plan on groveling at their paws in awe. He sees the imperfection in Toxicity, and he wishes to fix the broken machine. He wishes to move beyond being a mere gear in a system. Why not be in charge of the system? Why not regulate instead of being regulated?Omega is powerful and calculating, yet he is not without emotion. He empathizes with others, often putting himself in the place of the one who is struggling. Once being the weak one gives him insight on how to help the cat, but he has no empathy for his enemies. He could watch the Clan cats die one after another, but within reason. He is not an indiscriminate murder. Why kill a queen and her kits? Why kill the elders? They can only bring the gifts of life and wisdom to his group. His eyes are the color of the ocean. Its depths unknown, the blue is mesmerizing and mysterious. His fur forms a black stripe along his back the seems to drop spots of darkness onto his dark brown flank which lightens slightly as one moves towards his white underside. His chest is a dirty snow in color, only very slightly grayed. He has a distinctive scar marking his right ear, almost splitting the auditory organ down the middle. He is slightly larger than the average cat in Toxicity, but it is not visible at first glance. Though this cat's intentions may seem a little dark, he wants what is best for his group. Not for yours. He would give up his life and the afterlife in a moment to save what he loves dearest. His days in Toxicity are past, yet he does not regret leaving them. He feels his pilgrimage as brought him new knowledge, and it has only just begun. It is his final wish that he would return to what is now Absum Lux to share his knowledge, but that day is in the future. Not the present. To keep his real name a secret and to mask his path, he now has cats he meets know him as Hades. Only those from his former group and those close to him would know who he really is; however, a persona can only last for so long. He still felt as if he had unfinished business in what was now Absum Lux, so he returned. For better or for worse is all in perspective. After the disappearance of Genesis, his second mate, he felt broken again. It was impossible for him to stay there, so he left Absum Lux/Toxicity for the second time and found himself in SunClan. Omega always knew he could distract himself from his screwed up reality in the hostile group, but it hardly lasted any time at all. He was turned into a servant, so he left the cult for something else. He was in relative peace for a little while in the League, but it was not long until Foxstar found him and removed separated his soul from his body. With the Priestess holding his soul over the edge of the abyss, what moral bounds he had left finally dissolved. The change is allowing him to become the perfect killer, one without remorse or empathy with eyes on the endgame.
EIDOLON roleplayed by Blankslate A ghost with a bloodline tracing back as far as the shaman Pampa. A shade that is known but unknown, one that has always been there, right in the corner your eye but never something focused on. He has no desire to be known, to make himself a presence that others speak of. Content to live in the background, pale long haired bengal coat speaking towards convoluted bloodlines and drowned out by the bright richer coats of those around him. He lives his life as he pleases and to join Eidolon is to get on a never ending ride. There is no uncertainty, no hesitation in anything he does the tom constantly moving forward at a pace others will often never reach in their lives. The freedom he enjoys in his animosity is addictive, something he will hold onto with a death grip. Pale green eyes are seeking new avenues to explore constantly, uncaring of who he has to cut down to enjoy them. Pass times better enjoyed away from polite company and a ruthlessness breed from where he grew up.
SAVAGNIN roleplayed by Blankslate The 'white tiger', she terrorized those who were considered a threat, killed off outsiders before they could know they were intruding, and painted her fur red for the sake of those she considered family. When she finally left her sister Chenin and they both went on their own way she carried her title with a fierce pride. Taking glee in being known within their region as a she-cat to avoid. This pride is carried within her dry wit and snarky responses. She spent her first moons alone without her sister enjoying the freedom, spending long day lounging, a big cat content in it's place above the rest. Until her sister was killed by this inattention, while Savagnin was languishing her sister and her mater were killed by a rouge who was to greedy to stop wanting more. Savagnin hunted him down, but sadly got no opportunity to make him suffer as she wished too; knowing she had to help her sisters kits. They were old enough to hunt, but not hard enough to survive the territory their mother had raised them in due to an influx of rouges. So Savagnin proposed they joined the clans, took them one by one and helped them find new homes. Until finally she was alone again, but without her sister to keep her firmly attached to one place. And she wandered, she explored the territory her nieces and nephews now called home and grew intrigued by the League. A place that held predators, leopards to her tiger. It didn't take her to much deliberation to decide to join their numbers, never having shied away from getting a little blood on her paws.
BLAIR roleplayed by Honeystorm A puppeteer, pulling on the strings as the rest of the world travels obliviously by. Ghostly white fur fading into the fog and shadows, only the faintest gray-blue markings of royalty staining his otherwise pristine pelt. Dolls dance at his will, grotesque effigies of children with sewn up wounds and dry, lifeless fur that keep the eerie tom company. Hypnotic moonstone eyes of the palest, clearest silver draw you in, ethereal, holographic shades of blue seeming to emanating from his eyes that captures your very soul. Can't you see the craftsmanship of his toys? Aren't you jealous? Would you like to join his collection? Blair wants you to be with him.. forever. And what Vera's grandson wants, he gets, at any cost. Resistance is met with tantrums and destruction, crying and whining until he gets what he wants. What is his /is his/, and any who would dare to take that away from him must die. Possessive, childish, cold-blooded, obsessiveness runs in his genes, a yandere who latches onto things and people and refuses to let them go even at a detriment to himself or others. Otherwise sweet, if highly immature, his love for his family rises to insane levels, any who would take them away from him having a special place reserved in his collection. Death has always been a part of his life, from the first life he took, belonging to a kittypet with a cute little teddy bear he quickly claimed for his own, to the dolls he collects, crudely taxidermied cats and creatures of all kinds, kits mainly, cleanly killed, flesh removed to be replaced by feathers, skin laid back over, and set up in his underground gallery. Often, when he works, haunting music can be heard from the cavern, a beautifully child-like voice that mesmerizes. Pravian by blood, and blood before all, though he hardly fits into the neat little box of perfection he is taught to display.
EINRI roleplayed by stardance Think of the world as a petri dish. Everything is seen by some observer, and, to some extent, controlled by the observer. But why to some extent? Simple. The subject can control their immediate future. They can control whether they go up, down, left, or right, kill their neighbor, or flee for their life. Einri is the controller and desires what the controller does not have: absolute power over his lesser subjects. To do that, one only needs one skill: observation. His subjects are almost as foreign as another species. They speak differently and behave as if his family were deities on Earth. To some extent his grandmother, the revered Vera E'tani, was a goddess of death, or perhaps a fallen angel. Every other member of her family, including himself was on the platform in the sky because of her. That simple fact alone gives Einri all the meaning to "Blood before all else." To his family, the tom is eccentric but understanding, but to outsiders, Einri is cold and condescending. He feels detached from the rest of his species due to his god complex, so understanding them can only be achieved through carefully planned interactions. He wouldn't stop there. What good are the norms if he could not manipulate them to his own benefit? Perhaps unlike his grandmother, he does not care for most of the bloody splendor of killing. He enjoys the act, but his kills are clean and simple. Quick and painless. Lethal and efficient. The last thing you may see is this snow Bengal's copper eyes staring back at you as his slits your throat and dumps your corpse into a stream. Don't worry, he wouldn't make a sound.
ARETE roleplayed by Blankslate Never the better half, never the first choice, never the first remembered. Born with her twine brother Argon, and often overshadowed by his bold nature. A bold nature that brought him to an early grave. Leaving Arete to carry her fathers wishes for a child of his own to go on and do great things. For a primal instinct cat Arete is rather virtues, often turning her nose up at the thoughtless torture partaken in by the more barbaric of her league mates. Arete will do nothing without a good reason, without a strong justification. Holding herself to a high standard of excellence and a ridged code of conduct. Often thinking deeply, and pondering the meaning behind things; double guessing intentions and ready to defend herself. At times she'll try an challenge others to higher thoughts even if it often gets her nothing but scoffs. Philosophical she can't help but think there is more to life than what they know.
ALASTAIR roleplayed by Oceanix “He's like fire and ice and rage. He's like the night, and the storm in the heart of the sun. He's ancient and forever. He burns at the center of time and he can see the turn of the universe. And... he's wonderful." - Tim Latimer. Eyes the color of frosty ice that rage with a hidden fire passed through his mother - Foxe's bloodline for generations. They are the eyes shared by a former warden, a past Shaman, and the current Assassin. Along with many past important officials of the League. His fur is dipped in fire and ice. The shaggy appearance of a battle worn soldier. Frosty cream fur with silver highlights. Faded ginger lynx markings on his face and limbs are his war paint. His ginger dipped tail acts as a warning to those that oppose his kingdom. Alastair comes from a long line of Nemesis, Wardens, and Shaman. Alastair was destined from birth to protect the kings and queens of his kingdom. He was graced with a named with a fitting meaning. Alastair symbolizes "protection" and is known as the "Defender." When most gaze upon Alastair they take in his physical appearance. They notice he has the small and lean physical traits of his parents Foxe and Parallax. Although don't let his size fool you. His lean and slight muscular body are almost similar to that of a knight's sword. Like a blade he cuts his victims down in one swipe.Like a knight he is elegant and charming in the way he carries himself. He finds that being polite and formal aid in political situations. Like a knight or a bodyguard he stands there at attention. Never making a sound never talking; just listening and picking up information. Storing the information for later use. Unlike the knights before him that swore their lives to protect the Nemesis. Alistair isn't a brute that shows off his superior power or strength against his victims. Knowing his size puts at him at a disadvantage. He found at a young age that his vast intelligence got him further then brute strength. His intelligence has helped him become a gifted tracker. He notices the smallest details that most over look. Using those details he follows his targets until he find them. Never stopping and never giving up the hunt. He lurks in the shadows like a storm in the night. He silently brews until his lightning strikes out leaving chaos and destruction.
HADYN roleplayed by Oceanix Fortune favors the bold - a sentiment by which he directs his life. A loosely adorned sculpture, the stone-tough muscles clad about his figure are hidden beneath a shawl of dark coal fur. His thick coat gives the impression of a dangerous set of weapons beneath it, of defined ropy muscles to which conflict is not unknown; despite his slightly smaller stature, he holds an imperial look and distinct coldness to his expression. He doesn't think he's better than some other cat , he knows it, the conviction running deep within his bones. His bloodline and his own attitude make him aloof and superior to those that are not him. Quick and sharp, his signature battle moves stuns and astound opponents, his technique rendered nearly flawless after moons of honing and refining. But despite his kingly appearance and outward soul, his disposition is not of the icy-cold heart of a Nemesis. Risky and on high alert, his exterior facade melts away in subtle ways to gradually reveal more of himself. An innate risk-taker, determined and mentally set, and always ready to go; there is no fearful tendon or nerve that will betray him when inhabiting his element, perched in dangerous places or elevated spaces.He's light on his paws and quick, mentally defy and rather capable. He takes it all by storm, a comment quick as lightning to roll off his tongue nearly as swiftly as his flight from branch to branch to evade authority and command. Hadyn is different when he reaches himself, tunes in to that inner ear -; he's full of fire, the open flame of a bold leader. Hot and brash, willing to do whatever it takes to free himself from the chains of humility and expectations, to relax with a friendly quip exchanged between brothers and a warm bite to eat, to blaze and bare his soul. The herald of a new age and the tiger burning bright, drawing in supporters like a moth and bathing them in his merciful light. Hadyn seeks to make his fortune and achieve fame, by thievery in the night or inspiring others; everything is attainable and nothing in fixed in time, unable to escape his grasp. Fortune comes to the bold. He loves independently of his family, unwanted, ignored, or undesirable - his typical sharpness too on point and blunt to be considered civil. When costs in ice he can be reasoned with, by that possessive family of his mother's side ,Nova the Shaman and her ancestors , but when he bursts free, he is a hurricane, a volcano. Hadyn was not born noble, his birth an accident, the product of anger between the Shaman and her Warden sister; a regrettable fling with Satara's mate, Legion. The dark tom fathered them for a short while before he was driven by his needs from the clan, left to wander alone and grow tougher. He has found, however, being a mistake merely can be shaken off his whiskers and is almost adored by some of his short following. Hadyn is by no measure a revolutionary - his friends and following shrinks as often as it grows, with every beat of his heart pulsing along blood through his system. At no time does he have more than three or four friends, but he accepts this, bidding goodbye freely and frequently.Hadyn's thoughtful side rarely shows, his strategies often present at the forefront of his mind however. He avoids romance and other conflicts of interest as best he can, focusing on the tasks at paw. His closed self was not always present at birth, but rather at the event following: of his siblings - Nadia, Byre, and Avira -Avira was the favorited, and thus the one brutally stolen by the jealous Satara. His two other sisters dying shortly afterwards. His mother's death followed the death of his siblings. He had always maintained a bond with his family, but after the unfortunate event, a fleck of ice chipped his heart and began to freeze the fire. He left the league to search for his father, but all trails came up cold. Only to join the league when he was older.
MATRICES roleplayed by Oceanix A picture of elegance and class. Picture perfect short sleek ivory fur. Grey and brown tabby markings adding personality to his evening coat. His indigo colored eyes are a trademark that link him to the powerful lineage of Indy. Being the son of the Nemesis he had a reputation to uphold. He became a great actor as he grew up. Learning to be kind to the important ones. He is rude to the lesser ones on the pecking order. Not afraid to speak his mind and having no filter. His mouth can sometimes get him in trouble with the wrong crowd. He grew up believing Micah was his father. He respected and looked up to the tom for guidance. His siblings are Quarel, Indigo, Sonnet, and Doree.
MEPHISTO roleplayed by Oceanix Hatred for others slowly can corrupt the soul. While it may corrupt the soul Mephisto lives and breaths hate for others. Many would chalk it up as him growing up with his father Deal being absent from his life. Or his mother Savannah being a Proxy at the time of his birth causing her to leave her litter to the Spies of the nursery. Mephisto how ever doesn't believe this. He believes that he was born with hatred being already apart of him. While most find comfort in family Mephisto doesn't not find comfort in his family. At the time of his birth two other litters fathered by Deal were born in the Primal Instinct nursery through Katie and Supernova. With each litters birth being in close proximity to each other. They were raised in the nursery together by their mothers. Turning the nursery into shark infested waters. Each litter competing to be the better litter. This allowed Mephisto's hatred for his family to grow. When he was a trainee and his brother Azmodan was dying at his paws from poison. Instead of jumping to help his littermate he just stood there. When his younger look-alike littermate Duriel became a Deacon. His jealousy for his younger brother grew. Leading to him rebelling and leaving the league. Through his moons as a rogue he was able to father a single daughter name Thana. During the short reign of Lazarus E'tanMephisto rejoined the League and hooked up with Seraphina Song.
NEOTELOS roleplayed by Oceanix 'Neo-tell-us' it didn't not take long for his name to become a inside joke where any of his siblings would use his name as a play on words as his name sounds like someone asking 'Neo, tell us'. When he attempts to explain or speak there always someone who says "Yes, Neo-tell -us all about ..." His didn't even leave kittenhood before he became sick of that joke. If his name sounds made up then you'd be completely right - it was made up and his name is the combination of 'Neo' and 'telos' literally Greek meaning 'new end'. Well where to being with this mini enigma? For starters, he likes collecting bones. Any kind of bones, for they are the only thing that 'survives' death. Some bones even seem to be too big to be from a bird or any 'normal' kind of prey but he insists everything he finds are just the poor remains left exposed to the harsh elements, re-purposed by him to be visual decor of his nest. His own personal goal is to one day find a cat skull and add on to his collection, probably until someone gets sick of his hoarding and tell him to get rid of it all but he's likely to only listen to the Nemesis. He has a 'tame' obsession with death and could begin a conversation on how death is purifying and invincible, and so on. Not everything he does revolves around the concept of death, he will however, advocate how misunderstood it is and death is nothing to fear, yet even he is not so eager to be 'terminated' either. Death is merely one of many changes, just more permanent and signal no turning back. The ending to one story, can pick off as the beginning of the next. It isn't necessarily so literal either, as it often brings renewal, a time of significant transformation, change and transition. Death is merely a teacher to let go, and to move forward, to break away from harm and go across into the positive frontier. Neotelos is the connoisseur of the inner mind, he has a pretty clear view of how things works and is fascinated with the things he doesn't understand like any type of mental abnormalities as simple as OCD. Neotelos has a knack for picking up on other cats's "auras" and while he doesn't mean to be rude, he can't ignore a sad soul and will places himself in other people's business with the intention to give them the push forward they need, but he isn't enough then he shall leave them to wallow and pull themselves out of despair. Neotelos is selfless, he has a heart, but he keeps it as detached as possible, perhaps influenced by being brought into the world in such a mess of a 'family' considering both parents want nothing to do with any of them and have no intention of actually having to raise them. This 'family' deteriorated before it even had a chance. Neotelos likes to think he's pretty sane and well-rounded compared to other PI cats and the most mature, stoic, neat, and even a little proper. He even occasionally tries to make an effort to make them more . . . 'family-like' but mostly in vain. His relationship with his father is as distance as expected, they never would've talked at all if it wasn't for the fact he was genuinely concerned Adelaide has no desire to raise them or be attached at all - funny how it's fine for him to be that way and such a game-changer when the mother isn't. Perhaps this is all the start of a new beginning? Their talk is small and seem more of acquaintances than father-son. His connection with his mother is much more complex and strained. Neotelos is one of 27cats based on the Tarot cards; his card is Death. His parents are Uta (of PI) and Adelaide (of PI). His littermates are Noose, Equilibrium, Bondage, and Crisis. (written by Shadowblade~Moss~sky)
NOOSE roleplayed by Oceanix While his littermate Neotelos is mature, neat, and proper. Noose is very much so his opposite. He joined his others siblings Equilibruim, Bondage, and Crisis in the mocking of their littermate's name Neotelos. It was actually Noose who started the "Neo-tell-us" joke amongst the littermates. He is a chaotic wild fire that will burn you if you get too close. He very much so suffers from commitment issues similar to his father Uta. While his struggles stay committed to almost every thing in his life he at the same time struggles to let things go after he finally commits. Leaving him to become a victimof his own personal struggles. His connection to his siblings is his dark brown tabby pelt. His connection to his father is his dark rich amber eyes.
RIMANETTA roleplayed by Oceanix When two old bloodlines clashed Rimentta and her siblings became the product of selective breeding. Rimanetta's smaller then average sized frame almost didn't make Shaman Raelynn's standards if it wasn't for her youngest sister Venisca-chan being born half dead. With her sister's sacrifice it allowed Rimanetta to grow into the beautiful and deadly force that she became. She was graced with the beauty of her mother Naida's dark and rich brown pelt which is similar to her grandfather's Legion's. Her unique copper eyes sets her apart from her brother Serpentine and her sister Heria. Their unique hue is was connects her father Cyder. Through Cyder and Naida she comes from a long line of Nemesis allowing her to draw her bloodline back to cats like Metra E'tani, Indy E'tani, Katie E'tani, Ryssa E'tani, Seraphina E'tani, Jynx E'tan, and Quartet E'tani. While she proudly upholds her bloodline that is frowned upon in Primal Instinct. Causing her to meet any challenge head first to prove to others in the League that she isn't just some number that has became apart of the bloodline. Mother to Veda, Apollo, Ridge, Moira, and Nia.
TATLIA roleplayed by Oceanix "I don't want your broken lullabies, your burdened dreams. I have my own curses, and you have only uncovered the beginning."Her siblings, Tansy and Thyme may be twins, but this she-cat is Thyme's polar opposite. He suffers from staying up, hallucinating from a lack of sleep but unable to put his troubled mind to rest because of thoughts of fire that dance through his head. She envies his problems though, because in her eyes she struggles more than him. It's difficult to stay up for her, always being lethargic and wishing for the sweet embrace of rest. Yet she has wishes to be the best of them all, dreams of conquering the world with her unlimited power. There's no way to gain that strength while she is asleep through it all. Even if the small she-cat wanted to stay up, her mind shuts itself down. Without control, she can be up and running one moment and asleep the next. She's narrowed her problem down to one cause though; stress. Whenever her heart begins to race, her eyes begin to close. This doesn't bode well for her hopes to be stronger than the rest. Even if she was stronger, what use would it be if the moment she steps into a battle field she falls asleep? She's not blind to why she carries this burden though, as unfair as she sees it. She was born to an ex-medicine cat, of whom ran from her duties once finding that she was carrying kits. Hazel. As much as she wants to love her mother, she also blames her and is much less forgiving than her other siblings. Hazel has clearly stated to her that Starclan has cursed her siblings and her because of their mother's deed of running from her duties. As for her father, his name was Desolate. She met him when she was young, and at first was fearful but warmed up to him. Yet she didn't get to know him long, and even now can barely remember his face. When Duriel was still deacon before his rise to nemesis, he took a rather normal hunting patrol out. Among the patrol was Desolate, Gravity and Pact. Four toms left camp, and only Duriel returned alive claiming that they had been attacked by rouges. She hates when anyone tells that story, shivering at the thought that rouges could take away those that seemed so strong. Yet she lives on, trying to conquer her weakness of sleep. Unlike the rest of her siblings, she is more hyper aware of where they are. She knows that those here don't mind ripping the weak to shreds, and that they see her family as very weak. She acts like the older one for all of them. The defender. Yet if she's the voice of the family, it seems like a very weak voice as well. Her siblings are Poppy, who has anxiety, Comfrey, who tends to injure himself more than others, Juniper, who always tends to be the sick one of the bunch, Willow, who doesn't seem cursed on first appearance until she stumbles from blurred vision, Tansy who probably has the least of the damage by just being unable to tell a lie, Thyme who is Tatlia's polar opposite with insomnia and Peppina who has abrupt moments of being unable to breathe. They're all named after herbs because of their mother's past with medicine. To her, it feels like a lash to the face considering that's why they're all troubled in the first place. As for why Tatlia and her sister, Peppina have non-traditional herbs as their names, there's a special reason. Their mother is a pure breed of what two-legs apparently call Chartreux. Yet she has green eyes, which for some reasons two-legs dislike in that breed. Tatlia has copper eyes, and Peppina has golden eyes which is much more acceptable to the breed. This, of course, means that Hazel was once a kitty-pet which is why the story behind their names often goes untold. It was so long ago, and Hazel was so young that the only memory she has is being spared from being killed, instead released into the wild. Since the pair has much more traditional eyes, and the common blue pelts, Hazel decided to name them after herbs that only Primal Instinct uses as a way to look past all of their pasts and into the future. Yet, even then, Tatlia doesn't see a bright future.
ZANDER roleplayed by Oceanix A mixture of his mother Adanna and his father Liam . He is a knight, a warrior of Primal Instinct. He is forever loyal to the place of his birth. His armor of choice is his thick short fur. That is grace with a light tan color decorated with a beautiful chocolate leopard pattern. His eyes are dark and stunning and take on the hue of warm honey. His weapon of choice are his massive paws decorated with deathly dagger like claws. He has the heart of a lion and the strength of a tiger. He is large muscular frame. He is protective of his siblings and won't let anyone mess with them. He is the closest to his brother Liam Jr.
NYPHERIS roleplayed by Effy Manipulation is an art form not many can pull off, and definitely not something you'd want to be a victim of. A small, haunting, dark colored bengal she-cat, she is a phantom when she performs. She is the smallest of Pravian Empress Vera Etani's second litter, not to mention the weakest and the smallest. But don't be mislead, Nypheris will break you down just as fast as she builds you up. Don't be ignorant enough to think she's just a pushover because of her age and size, the atrocities that Nypheris can make possible would make you gasp in disbelief. The snake like bengal is a quiet soul, calculative and unforgiving plans running the gears in her brain. However, when she finds her target, there is no mistake that they are a mouse caught in her mousetrap. She will dazzle you, with kindness, and honesty, and pure loyalty. She will always win them over, a true mistake on the victim's part. If you trust this she-devil, you'll let her know things you'd never imagine sharing with another living being. Your darkest sins, they're all part of something greater than you- her presence is a haunting one, it'll make you remember your morality, the greatest betrayals of yourself and others, your secrets and mistakes. Her greatest attribute is being able to find weaknesses and turn them against you. She will stop at nothing to make you feel guilt and manipulate you to blame yourself for a tragedy she caused. All that you've told her will always be used against you, blackmail of the highest degree to keep you on your toes and guessing all the time. Nypheris has an interest in her Pravian heritage, often coming up with questions and then attempting to answer them to the best of her ability. She has a brilliant brain, an intelligence usually sought out for. She has ambition and adrenaline pumping through her veins, a two-faced devil, a witty assassin of souls, a wraith lurking beneath the shadows. She is impulsive and usually stubborn, and doesn't seem to mind her siblings a whole lot. Her weakness can be a bit offputting but she never lets that stop her path. Nypheris's pelt is creamy, rosetted bengal spots painted on her physique like a piece of art. Her mesmerizing eyes are those of a sage, emerald green, that look like they house a powerful source of mysterious power.
TAINT roleplayed by Effy Any who believe her name is from the inky splattering of gray across her bleached pelt is sadly mistaken. Her name is because she is a disgrace to her family line. She was conceived of an ill-considered relationship between a pure-blooded League member and a charming rogue, and with her birth her mother was robbed of life entirely. The grandmother that raised her was a stern and strict cat, disapproving; her name is a reminder of her mixed blood and the stain her existence is on the family legacy. She was kept in line with harsh words and the occasion cuff or strike, taught early on never to question her superiors and keep her head down, meek and quiet. A kit is best seen and not heard, they'd say, so she saw and looked as pretty as she could and wished she was a fool so she could endure this treatment with a genuine smile upon her face. But Taint is clever, too much so for her own good, and it gets her into trouble far more than a proper lady would. Turquoise eyes, marred by a chip of gold in her left iris, are demure and beaten down when in the presence of cats older than herself, but young or those her age see a different side of her; they meet a challenger, a cat unafraid to start a fight and prove her merit. Toms have never shown a romantic interest in her, nor do they have reason to, but she's rather shy about her sexuality. Instead, she finds them to be constant and funny friends worth keeping in her life. Her grandmother always swore that she would find a nice tom from a pure family to settle down with, being the only one that can continue their line; her hope was that after giving birth to kits Taint would promptly die off and stop troubling her, but this has yet to be realized. A hunter of average looks, her witticisms and sarcasm are her main traits, and her love for a good match keep her from settling down with one of the respectable toms her grandmother always dreamed of. In truth, she clashes with her group, and loves the league all the more for it.
FLAME roleplayed by Spottedleaffan21 A beautiful dark red she-cat with turquoise eyes. She may be attractive to most but her heart is cold. She was born in Moonclan, her father being Leopardblaze and her mother being Silvershine. Always being second best, never amounting to anything important, and constantly being picked on had made her bitter. She felt that she was made for something much more than what her clan saw her as. As Moonclan became weaker to nearly extinction, she refused to be a part of it any longer. She became friends with a Primal Instinct cat when she was only an apprentice and had dreams of joining them. Once she was awarded her warrior name, she betrayed her clan and chose to leave and join the league.
MYSSA roleplayed by Faith Sing to me for I cannot fly, give me rose petals so I am warm. Hearing the chorus of an entire clan sing with their rose petals bleeding from their fur is the most beautiful thing to experience. But often enough it will be a lone singer that you will stalk out in the middle of the night. A singer that is unaware of your presence and oblivious to the beauty that lies within their voice. And I, the Scarlet Slasher, will allow you to harmonize with me. We will sing together until you grow weary and you are but an empty stub, naked of your rose petals that you have spilled out to me. Murder is not something I do out of cruelty, anguish, or rarely out of love, it is for the passion. Everyone has their own thrills and enjoyment and mine is simply murder. Like any passion I enjoy to murder in different ways, poison, suffocation, drowning, heights, fire, I enjoy experimenting with the variables and with the cats. Cats of clans, rogues, groups, and cats of different backgrounds such as leaders, apprentices, queens, I want to hear all their lovely melodies. I want to see the true them. In the darkest hour of your life, are you composed, are you silly, are you brave. It’s interesting how the elegant of people say the most foulest of things in their last moments. How the most powerful of toms wither and cry. How the foolish of cats will bravely face death. Murdering is really getting to know the true person. It’s to hear their song straight from the soul and to see them for who they truly are, inside and out.It is not impossible to believe how people maybe allured to someone even as deadly as I, the rose with one thousand thorns. I was named after the fierce dictator of Primal Instincts, Ryssa E’tani and the the merciless Misty of Water Clan, combining both together my mother gave me the name Myssa. The only two she-cats that had managed to outplay my mother in the game of life. I was blessed with sun-kissed radiant wine-red swirled with mixed layers of strawberry blonde fur with black gnarled root like markings that climb across my fur from my legs to my sides like dark roots of a forest slowly covering my body. A golden heart shape beams against my chest that looks as though thorns are prodding into the heart that is protected by the dark bramble root like shapes. By my golden heart shape I have golden speckle like spores floating around near the marking. My fur is glorified with a golden rune design at the tip of my tail in a V shape across my neck. I have a C shape resembling a kiss mark at my neck and I have a golden and black streak across the lid of each of her green eyes that carry a copper reddish reflection. The sides of my fur are complete with a big lotus flower petal shape on either side. Small triangular lotus petal shapes form inside of the bigger petal pattern. Much like my eyes, my fur is captivated by the sun creating a fiery flare that lights up my iridescent fur. My blooming lineage stems from past Warden Rake and past Deacon Green/ Glowstar. Sing with me and lend me your voice, let me see your rose petals, let me see you for who you really are.
LUCISTIC roleplayed by Faith He’s the most handsome version of hell you’ll ever meet. Liquid black fur coats his body like a dark sea reflecting night. His acid green eyes are like poison, tempting to stare into, yet can burn right through you. A trick of the light or a shadow cast the wrong way and you could swear his eyes flash copper. His build is staggering, a whole foot tall with two extra inches on him with a long slender body. His voice is sly and taunting with gentle low rhythm. There are demons in his lungs and chaos singing in his brain. Genetics that infest his soul, cling to his chest, and burrow deep inside. He was born in the land of shadows, Primal Instinct, to the most dangerous proxy couple this planet ever had the great dissatisfaction of knowing. Rake was born to a group of cats that inspired horror stories, a cat with a demon inside of him much like his son. Green or Glowstar as DayClan has come to know her was a lethal assassin who took her rightful place as reaper of the forest. He was kidnapped as a kit and experimented on in Toxicity’s camp. Insanity raked wounds into his chest and soon pure emotions could be confused with delusions of evil. Cats would be driven to death by experiments like what he went through, but he makes broken look so beautiful it’s hard to see the pieces missing in his heart. He masters in mimicry, capable of mimicking not just animal sounds, but that of other cats voices. Sometimes he'll lure his prey out through mocking wounded sounds whether they be cat or prey.
ERAISUITHIEL roleplayed by Sinful "An Elven-maid there was of old, a shining star by day: her mantle white was hemmed with gold, her shoes of silver-grey. A star was bound upon her brows, a light was on her hair as sun upon the golden boughs in Lórien the fair." Within golden wood, under fading light of day, she twirled in pleats of silk; a maiden bright as the sun itself, a smile on her face. Her heart doth sing the tales of old as she pranced along the dell, until she stumbled across a sight that left her feeling unwell. Darkness had devoured her friends of the wood, leaving behind not but bone. In her fury she found herself screaming for vengeance, her heart wilting to stone. As her tears abated and her skin had thinned, she lay within the blood, for as she dreamed her spirit faded until but a wink was left. "Her hair was long, her limbs were white, and fair she was and free; and in the wind she went as light as leaf of linden-tree. Beside the falls of Nimrodel, by water clear and cool, her voice as falling silver fell into the shining pool." Come morning when crystal eyes peeled open, blinking away the dust, she'd found the world had changed around her and she'd been left in the muck. Dragging to a stand and gazing 'round what was once her home, she found herself lost once more, the bones of her friend grown in the ground. She swayed from here to there, merry a destination in mind; where she found harbor, they soon found slaughter, their voices stolen from cut throats. Her grief was solid, like iron and ore, and she left a silver trail behind her. There seemed no end in sight for the maiden who drifted through hell. "Where now she wanders none can tell, in sunlight or in shade; for lost of yore was Nimrodel and in the mountains strayed. The elven-ship in haven grey beneath the mountain-lee awaited her for many a day beside the roaring sea." Once more she awoke, time having passed in the eons, and the eidolon found herself freed; no longer was her heart enslaved by Death's viselike grasp. The light returning to her once more, her lips quivered with the effort; yet no matter how far or long she tried, she couldn't muster a whimper. Condemning herself to a vow of silence, she continued on her wayward trek; she wandered near, far, to the ends of the earth and back until she stumbled across a land of black. Burnt and broken it was up until the edge, where past the crest of an ashen hill she discovered life at last. It wasn't the carefree spirits she'd been born and raised beside; instead they were darkened, battered and bruised and filled with the malevolence of Morgoth. There she instilled herself, finding purpose in a long life wasted, where she hid among their murderous ranks, spreading care and warmth where she could. "A wind by night in Northern lands arose, and loud it cried, and drove the ship from elven-strands across the streaming tide. When dawn came dim the land was lost, the mountains sinking grey beyond the heaving waves that tossed their plumes of blinding spray." Her days and nights were blended, punished for the occasional show of weakness; but through it all she smiled, for this was where she belonged. Yet still, underneath, she longed for the release of white sails and seas, knowing one day she'd be drawn back to them and live a life of peace. Until then she dreams of her lover – handsome, courageous and graceful, bearing the mark of Eraisuithiel and calling for her 'till morrow. Evermore her heart beats for him, no other existing in her sight; her life is dedicated to her task until she might say goodbye. Her love haunts her dreams with his flowing hair and brilliant blue eyes, his smile of radiance, his outstretched hand towards hers, his lips upon her cheek. Despite their distance her heart sings for him, as it has and always will, but until that day when Amroth comes she will wait and plan. "Amroth beheld the fading shore now low beyond the swell, and cursed the faithless ship that bore him far from Nimrodel. Of old he was an Elven-king, a lord of tree and glen, when golden were the boughs in spring in fair Lothlórien. From helm to sea they saw him leap, as arrow from the string, and dive into the water deep, as mew upon the wing. The wind was in his flowing hair, the foam about him shone; afar they saw him strong and fair go riding like a swan. But from the West has come no word, and on the Hither Shore no tidings Elven-folk have heard of Amroth evermore."
OZAKAR roleplayed by Oceanix When your mother is the Shaman, your aunt is the Nemesis, Uncle is the Assassin, and your other aunt is one of the four Proxies. League members no matter what age learned to respect him. While probably mostly in fear Ozakar gives them many reason on why they should respect him. Always proving his family and the League his worth to society. More so his mother Raelynn than his uncle or aunts. While he grew up surrounded by the other kits in the nursery clowning around each day learning valuable social skills. He was shut out by his mother and sister Piroska. Each morning shoved outside to allow his sister time to learn the ways of being a Mage. Each day only adding fuel to the jealous fire that burned under his dark sandy leopard pelt. His sage green eyes only growing colder as the moons and seasons passed.
FAE roleplayed by xxsunlight If you've ever seen the sparkle of fool's gold, you've seen the appeal that Fae has. Bright, bubbly and notoriously flirtatious, Fae seems to know everyone and anyone. She doesn't appear to fit in within the League, amusing and clever and sociable as she is. But having been born and raised here, she can think of no other place she would want to be. At least here, she stands out, like a sparkle among the sharp edges of Primal Instinct. She is fairly attractive, with a thick cocoa tabby coat, dancing yellow-green eyes and a diminutive frame. She can make conversation with the stoniest of cats, but her attractiveness goes no farther than skin-deep. Fae is shallow, uncaring and unsympathetic to the plights of others. Her mother was quite the same, and Fae never quite matured. She is a talented fighter, but catty in personal feuds and childish when she doesn't get her way. Still, she draws toms with her looks and her upbeat nature, but never manages to keep them when they see her truer self.
KASDEYA roleplayed by xxsunlight The first thing that one notices about Kasdeya is her unique appearance- coating her wiry frame is a coat of cream fur, with a gray tail tip, one gray ear tip, and a gray semi-circle on her cheeks and underneath her chin. Her eyes are both brilliantly colored, one bright orange, and one a vivid blue with a large brown spot. Almost immediately after noting this, one would catch the sullen, fiery gleam in her discolored eyes. Kasdeya was born to two League cats who deserted (and were killed for it) shortly after her birth. Her sibling, the runt of the litter, was put down by the Shaman as well. Kasdeya grew up alone, among several prominent younglings of the nobility. This conspicuous she-cat understood the environment she lived in, and was a self-preservationist from day one. Warped to fit the League, Kasdeya is antagonistic, biting, clever and brutal. If you look at her the wrong way, she shoot back a shredding remark. If you cross her, she won't hesitate to rip your claws out. Not unstable enough to be called insane, yet not quite stable enough to form relationships, Kasdeya's loyalties lie with herself and with the discord she creates.
QUARTZ roleplayed by Lavender. A pretty crystal with no real value. Quartz's mother treated her like a novelty, fun at first then discarded her once she grew bored. Her father is unknown to her as he never came into to see her. She did have her siblings though and they grew closer than most do in the League. The four of them worked on raising each other, building up each other’s weaknesses. Quartz became the ringleader of the group, always leading the charge into mischief or outright danger. They stayed together as trainees, though it was a struggle when her sister nearly passed due to an accident. Quartz ended up being promoted earlier than the rest of her siblings, something that stuck a small wedge between her and her siblings. Yet when the other three were promoted the rift seemed to heal. Quartz learned to take a step apart from her siblings and develop into her own self. She often keeps her thoughts to herself, not willing to share her deeper thoughts with others. That’s not to say she isn’t sociable, Quartz does make conversation and friends. Fully aware of others she does her best to fit in, neither standing out or falling behind. Not drawing unwanted attention is her specialty. She has learned to take in her surroundings and observe her league mates. All this she takes in and stores it away to use later when necessary. At times she can appear cold and unfeeling, but she is not bloodthirsty. Quartz would much rather trick and deceive, using mental pain instead of physical. Deception is her favorite game. It brings her joy to weave tales out of thin air to have others believe. Quartz desires to have more than what she started with, to improve upon her. While it doesn’t have to be power she needs more. Smaller than the average cat, a long thick coat helps bulk her up. Alabaster white fur is accented with faint grey and cream patches, most of which form faint tabby stripes while the rest seem to highlight her frame. Her tail is almost solid grey with thin white stripes. Her delicate face is accented with a soft pink nose and large white ear tufts. Her fur grows just slightly longer on her chest giving her a curvy look. Silvery eyes with the faintest hint of ocean blue give her a doll-like look. The thin black outline around her eyes only makes them stand out more.
EXSPERAVIT roleplayed by Peepingpeeper "You are going to save the world, precious angel", is what his mother always said to him. He was the only surviving kit out of her litter of two, a tufty-furred swirly grey tabby tom with dull, greenish-yellow eyes. His fur his knotted and dirty, he seems to always have his eyes wide and alert. A gift from the heavens, his mother called him. Guinea was a disillusioned loner, and driven by the recent loss of her kit she lost her mind even more. She believed that Exsperavit was a hero, a god, that he was going to save the world and everyone knew his name. He grew up on that, which caused his extreme egotism and confidence. He cared little for anything other than himself and his mother, to some degree. He believed he was magical, that he could control the elements. It never worked when he tried, but his mother convinced him that they would develop in time. Exsperavit wasn't violence or aggressive, he was chillingly cold, quiet and cunning. He studied others, learned about them as much as he could, and could read someone like an open book.
"He's after you. Him and his accomplishes, they want to kill you," his mother had told him one day. She told him they wanted his power, they were going to suck his life-force from him and he will die. He believed this, sure, but he said he could fight them off. He was all powerful, indestructible. So his mother decided to hide him. She scoped out an old shed, abandoned by twolegs. Guinea kept him in there, a small space with an abundance of mice and rats, locked him in for as long as she could. He drove himself crazy, with no communication with anything and nearly died of dehydration before the rain came. But it collected in a puddle and would last a little bit as the shed was musty and damp itself. He stayed for moons, moons, and didn't even realize his mother was gone. She had died guarding that door, determined to protect her son from her own delusion. He entered that shed at around 16 moons old and left when he was 32 moons old after some kids entered the shed to see what was in there and he made his escape. He was never really the same afterwards. He was more paranoid and believed he was dying, that they had gotten to him. He traveled as a loner, quite content with it actually, and met many cats who told stories of the Clans and Groups. He wanted to join them, be their leader, save them before he "died." He discovered and joined Primal Instinct.
Paranoid to no end, Exsperavit still believes he is a god that will save the world. He sticks to himself but when talking to others he tends to put himself above them. He is good at reading others but not understanding or connecting to them. He's the definition of disorganized. The way he talks and acts, thinks and feels, how he even takes care of himself. He's a little ball of chaos. He's bothered with constant thoughts that he can never quite grasp and, at the odd time, voices that swarm him. He's slowly driving himself into insanity and believes the world has gone mad, that's it's being destroyed. He isn't very friendly, or trusting, but if he manages to form a bond he would cherish them miles more than he does with anyone else.
FABLE roleplayed by Medusa Fable is a she-cat most don't want to have to deal with, after all the cold and bitter cat isn't exactly a best friend to anyone. She's a very manipulative cat; she enjoys bending others in a way that will benefit her and further her on her path to redemption. She isn't the nicest cat and most learn that very quickly. She is strict and often demanding on what she wants done and when she wants it done. She plans everything out to a obsessive compulsive level. No detail can be left untouched. She also comes off as a very cold cat, lacking common compassion towards others even when it comes to them being hurt. She's also very blunt; she doesn't try and beat around the bush, she just goes straight to the point. The entire front isn't so much a cover up as it is her basic need to be stronger and better. When she does warm up and actually doesn't feel the need to constantly outdo herself she is a bit of a better cat. She's warmer and it is revealed that she enjoys the concept of family and can often be protective towards others. Fable was born thirty-two moons ago to a rogue cat and a clan cat. Unfortunately her mother rejected her due to the fact she could not pass as another clan cat's child. She was taken in by her father and the two traveled alone. From the start it was clear that Fable was bitter and cold, just as her father was to her. Her father often pushed the young she-cat further past her limit to which Fable would only retaliate with angry words. So at six moons, her father had enough and took the bruised and beaten Fable at the time to Primal Instinct. She was left with Primal Instinct for six moons and in that time developed good relationships within the clan. She was actually a bit functional within the group, due to them being of similar nature to her. Now, she resides there as a hunter, and she is more than proud of how far she has gotten.
KARMA roleplayed by sinful "I am the keeper, I am the secret, I am the answer, I am the end. Dragged by the wind, taken by the stars, carried with the madness and scars." The hum of a spacecraft as it hovers above the interconnected circles in the field; it is motionless, awaiting approach by those curious enough to dare. Thunder and lightning crackle ahead, the friction shivering in the still air. A soft ding! accompanies its presence before it's off like a rocket into the atmosphere, disappearing with a flash into the space above. Unidentified, uncertain, unacknowledged, untrustworthy. The extraterrestrials range in the media between those you fear and those you long for. What is the reality we face? It may be closer than you'd like to admit. "Tear down the hallows, take back eternity. Puppets learn to pull strings and cut down the user's lead. Don't stop, don't think, move up, don't blink now. On your knees, pray for rain. Don't breathe when you take your aim." A silver bengal form slinks through the fields, approaching the front porch of the home – only a single flame accompanying her form, flickering behind the glass of the front light. She's unwelcome in this ghost town, where only the dead may roam. This is the purpose of her life; to be driven away, used and manipulated. To be torn until there's nothing left but blood and bone. She is the embodiment of the deserved punishment in the world and her body displays it excellently. Scars riddle her form, causing the silver bengal hair to form unusual ridges where they don't belong. Tears have long streaked down her cheeks until they've left dark ravines – divots in her cheeks that will never heal. She has a purpose, though, one she won't so easily give up. "So climb up and come clean now. Blow back that smoke screen. It's all here, it's all you. Get clear on the darker view. Don't stop, don't think, don't look back. You're a bolt of lightning in the sky now. Don't stop, don't think, don't look back. I've pulled you in, nowhere to hide now." She was a mistake; never meant to exist, never meant to make it to this stage of life. Born to Siobhan, once an honored and respected deacon of the league, and an unknown tom that was undoubtedly a short and meaningless fling to the cold she-cat, she was abandoned within the league's territory upon her birth. Her mother, on the run from prosecution and undoubtedly execution, believed her to be a liability. She was better off losing her life to hypothermia or starvation than living a life as an outlaw with her flesh and blood. At least this was the perspective of the she-cat who left her with an unconventional goodbye – naming her only living child Karma, in honor of the regret and guilt she felt for having betrayed her deceased lover. There she was left, bizarrely silent, only snuffling for warmth, her small body shivering. "Don't stop, don't think, don't look back. You're a bolt of lightning in the sky now. Don't stop, don't think, don't look back. I've pulled you in, prepare to die now." There, within the territory of the league, she was cared for by a tom she considered to be her father. The only being on this planet that loved her more than life itself. The only being that she cared for and trusted with her very life. Altaïre. He cared for her, brought her food, taught her how to slink throughout the territory undetected. It was of utmost importance that she was to never be detected; not until she was old enough to care for herself, not only for survival but to prove her worth. Everything fell to ruin when she was discovered, however. It began the long days of her torment, as her tears continued to flow down cheeks. The pain, the bloodshed, the broken bones only built her to become who she is today. She wouldn't go back and change anything, for through the glimpses of gorgeous Death and beautiful white hot fury, she would not be who she is today. "I am Dark Matter. Your road to ruin. I am Dark Matter. I'm your undoing. Bring me your soul, bring me your hate, in my name you will create. Bring me your fear, bring me your pain, you will destroy in my name."
― TRAINEES― Every group needs members to fight and hunt as the need of Primal Instinct cats rise. Every dawn there are new members joining and the useless ones are disappearing into the night. These trainees learn the basics of hunting and keeping a lookout for enemy cats. They will stay trainees until the Warden oversees a patrol with them and deems them worthy of becoming full fledged members and hunters of Primal Instinct.
STRYKER-KUN roleplayed by Blue Everything about him is wrong. Primal Instinct had just destroyed MoonClan, slaughtering cats and leaving the survivors mangled and shattered, when a cat named Risingproblem decided to side with the League. He had been once part of MoonClan before the destruction of his former Clan occurred and he realized from news of the attack that he wanted to aid in the seemingly inevitable downfall of the Clans. He became a prisoner initiate as was expected of a former Clan cat, but while still in the pits of the prison he met a cat of high importance in the place he sought to call his new home, a cat named Karissa. It was while he was still all but the lowest sort of cat of the League when the beginning of this destruction of unspoken laws was conceived. Stryker is a smaller cat than his aunts and uncles, the Pravian blood from his mother half diluted by commoner blood from his father, the cat now known as Havoc. Half of a sort often scorned by the League and half the cats no cat dare cross, he would’ve faced enough if that were all that was wrong with him. However, his parents’ colorations blended in all the worst ways. The black-furred hunter and bengal-pelted huntress that lead to him made sense to lead to a color that, to the maternal heritage he may claim, means no less than a demon brought upon the earth. Perhaps it’s no surprise a litter with such scandelous origins would suffer from the hellspawn of Pravus Nocte, and not from only one. His fur is laid in charcoal, dark gray across his pelt patched with the signature shadowed spots of a Pravian bengal. The dark basing his pelt seems to not quite reach his face, the stripes marked along that point stark against white and paler gray. His eyes took more after his father, one pale yellow and the other dull orange. He’s a lean cat, seeming to dance in the midst of a fight, claws flashing as he skips just out of reach of retaliation.Cold, calculating, and intelligent, his mismatched eyes seem to pierce the soul of any caught in his gaze. In some ways he might be lucky to have been born into his circumstance, in a group that doesn’t care about the minor errors a cat may make to a bloodline that rises him above consequences for much of the more significant wrongs he may commit. After all, he certainly doesn’t shy from bending and fracturing the limits placed upon him. Or maybe it is his circumstance that led to his almost universal disregard of what rules may be put before him. Or maybe it is due to the neglect of his parents. Karissa was never going to love him properly, being a cat of many brief flings and litters rarely given enough time to properly raise before another came along. He grew up alongside his older half-siblings after all, the older children of Karissa all still younglings by the time Stryker and his siblings were born. Havoc, too, was all but guaranteed to pay his children little mind. The tom was never one to care too much, heart consumed by anger and frustration until there was no room for love or even give his own blood a second thought. Stryker adapted, though, cold and distant to all but his littermates, Kasdeya, Pralynn, Ronika, Vega, and Voss. He holds no true loyalty outside those cats. They were all he truly had as he grew up and, even with a family as extensive as his, he’s all but certain they’re all he’ll truly have in the foreseeable future. MENTOR: Omega [ Stardance ]
MELLORI-KUN roleplayed by Spottedleaffan21 Mellori is a small black she-cat with mesmerizing blue-gray eyes and a white tail-tip. She's very shy but her reason for being that way isn't because she is afraid of other cats, it's because of the twisted thoughts that go on inside of her mind. She may look cute and innocent from the outside, but on the inside, she is probably going over all the ways she could end your life. This psychotic feline is skilled in battle. Though he may look like she couldn't do much because of her size but she uses her size to her advantage. Before you could blink, she will be at your throat. She may not be very strong but she is insanely quick. If you want to survive, do not cross this crazy she-cat. MENTOR: Innocentia [ Faith ]
ZALAPH-KUN roleplayed by Honeystorm It is rare to find a coward in the League. Let alone one born into it. Zalaph, however, was unlucky enough to be one of those few. Gray-black, with ginger smoke stripes running through her pelt, and wide sage green eyes, she's rather pretty, if unremarkable. A cat who sticks to the shadows due to fear, she isn't a cat who will face you head on. Rather, she lurks at the edges of battle, striking while your back is turned, then disappearing to find another target. She is the support to the braver cats, helping to weaken their opponents, not even the main character in her own story. Zalaph also happens to be a pathological liar. Whether its about how much prey she caught, if she killed someone, or even her own name, you can be certain she's lying about it. Though useful when dealing with enemies, able to easily come up with stories on the fly to disarm them, it's less useful in the day-to-day, seeing as it's hard to trust a word she says, and no one's exactly sure where one lie ends and the truth begins. Why she lies is easy. It's simply self defense. She's a coward, an unremarkable being not cut out for a place such as the League, so she lies to keep herself alive. Lies about her skills and accomplishments, about her failures and the like, to the point she can't even tell the difference anymore. All she knows for certain is that she needs to keep herself safe, first and foremost. Everything else she can think of later. MENTOR: Innocentia [ Faith ]
CORAX-KUN roleplayed by Blue She was born into a dark world. From her first breath, she was expected to only make it darker. The League she calls home wants her to become the same kind of bloodthirsty killer they all are, her mother wanting her to continue the bloodline she has inherited; wanting her to rise up as the next cat of power within Primal Instinct when Vera E’tani’s iron claws finally loosen their grip. She’s not the only one to face these expectations, her two living littermates, Crass and Mellori, under the same pressure from their mother. Corax has always struggled under this weight, though, uncertain who to work to impress or if she should strive to her own goals. The voice that lingers at the back of her thoughts at all times does little to ease this indecision. It’s a voice unlike the sort most with unwelcome dialogue may have. This voice, unlike most others, belongs to someone once-living. It’s a voice not invented through instability, one that comes from a feline who hasn’t walked the grounds of the League in seasons upon seasons and has still found a way to secure a place back in her ancient home. The very blood her mother insists rises her above the rest of her Leaguemates is what connects her to the voice, the ancient Raven clinging onto the scrap she calls granddaughter, even if their relationship is many more generations removed than that. Sometimes Corax wonders why it was she who was chosen by her ancestor, longing to know a life without a voice whispering dark suggestions and blood-stained advice always in the back of her mind; wishing for nothing more than to be unfamiliar with the sensation of being trapped in her own mind when Raven decides her descendant’s choices don’t please her. It doesn’t help with how impressionable Corax can be, especially with the sideways threats offered to her. Her lenience will only turn her into the League’s plaything, the edge of softness something that’ll only get her killed. Though she might not realize it, Corax is lucky in some ways to have a voice much better suited to the darkness of the League to guide her pawsteps. She could be a formidable huntress if she shed the hint of softness, the hesitance towards confrontation, her ancestor tries to force out of her, pelt dyed all a continuous, sleek black without even the signature silver-white paws that trace back all the way to Raven. One eye is a pale, almost white yellow color, but the other mimics the icy blue of her mother. The same icy blue of Raven. She’s never been entirely certain if this feature is really her own. She can never really know how far her ancestor’s influence goes. Was she really born this way, or is it just a visible sign of the power the voice in the back of her head holds over her? Honestly, Corax can’t even begin to comprehend the nature of her relationship with Raven. For all she knows, she could merely be a toy to the former Nemesis, her continued control merely a game before her ancestor decides she’s done playing ‘mentor’ with her young descendent. She has certainly considered the possibility, though. The thought terrifies her. And Raven knows. MENTOR: Arete [ Blankslate ]
ELYON-KUN roleplayed by Jetclaw Born to the traitorous Crimson, a former huntress who had left off in the night with Elyon's smallest sibling. Elyon has been forced to go without her mother and a father that barely is around. So she's instead found security in her siblings, Cornelius, Deimos, and Caleb. Elyon is a golden tabby she cat with blue eyes. She acts very innocent and is extremely curious but more than often this is the guise she hides behind. She has just as much of a desire for conflict and battle as her mother had before her. She uses her cute looks and seemingly innocent visage to her advantage allowing her to get the jump on her enemies. Though she is often a little naive and can be easily misled. Particularly by the word of her brothers or by those who claim to be close to her and her brothers. MENTOR: Nypheris [ effy ]
ARMANI-KUN roleplayed by PrimordialHaze The grandchild of Vera E'tani, born to her crippled son Daedric and philosophical hunter Arete. Armani is a sandy based black spotted bangle with pale amber eyes. Much like his father he has some darker tendencies. He tends to not desire to dirty his paws, instead using the light witted fools below him on the Darwinian food chain to do his bidding. Preferring to be the boss head of a small internal gang than a simple minded ghoul. Armani keeps his pelt clean and tidy. Quiet, cool headed, and put off. Armani would not stop heinous acts from being done but rather sit back and watch it all pan out. He doen't find his siblings or other cats annoying but rather a waste of space. He cares for them but wonders why they are here. A bit silently self absorbs. While lacking in common knowledge of the real world he does his part to care for his siblings and parents. He is particularly protective of his mother Arete. He is a deep thinker like her but does not understand her much nicer streak. His siblings are: Givenchy, Dior, Valentino, Gucci, and Versace. MENTOr: Solaris [ xxsunlight ]
VERSACE-KUN roleplayed by Blankslate If his mother Arete was asked to describe him she would call him playful. If his father Daedric was asked to describe him he would call him sadistic. Some might describe his mothers love as unconditionally blind. If asked to describe himself the soft mink snow bengal would call himself playfully sadistic. While he schemes and plots they are often set up to fail, the tom not actually seeking to do permanent harm to his siblings despite what his actions might portray otherwise. In fact Versace is rather protective of Armani, Gucci, Givenchy, and Dior. Though he would rather be caught murdering a loner than to admitting he feels anything but resentment towards them. If Versace cares for you you might just find problems in your life conveniently disappearing, the sleek pelted tom taking care of them. A little far south of sane he comes off as unhinged and a bit manic at the best of times, moods changing like spring weather. Tread carefully around this tom, or he might just be the last thing you see. MENTOR: Daedric [ PrimordialHaze ]
GUCCI-KUN roleplayed by xxsunlight Gucci is a tom who knows what he wants from life. A descendant of Vera, and son of Daedric and Arete, Gucci grew up in a big litter with a fairly good family life. He didn't taste hardship as a kit and he has no desire to now. He's rather hedonistic, simply seeking out the easiest and more amusing paths in life. Work is a bore for him, words like 'duty' and 'responsibility' leaving a bad taste on his tongue. Gucci instead prefers play, sleep, food, and fun. He can be incredibly innovative and clever when it comes to getting what he wants, but it's a rare day when that skill is used for the good of anyone other than himself. He's a great conversationalist, and enjoys talking with other cats, but he easily rubs others the wrong way when they realize he wants nothing more than to lay around in the sun all day. He's an attractive tom, with a silver Bengal pelt and icy blue eyes, with a medium frame. He's neither fit nor fat, treading the middle ground of the easy life. MENTOR: Batair [ Jetclaw ]
DIOR-KUN roleplayed by ian The second born to Arete and Daedric out of a litter of six, nothing is particularly striking about this tom upon first glance. After all, he wears a similar white bengal pelt to his siblings, and his pale blue gaze is not shocking nor particularly exciting at all. Yet, despite being just another bengal in a sea of them, getting to know the tom will make one aware of his little... eccentricities. What might they be, one may ask? Dior falls in like with the blood that runs through his veins, finding a mannerism quite similar to the she-cat of his family to which the marbled coat owes its dues: Vera E'tani. Although he is a hunter over fighter, Dior acts eerily similar to his paternal grandmother. This mannifests in two ways. The first is that he enjoys bloodshed perhaps too much. He likes to be challenged, in order to put others in their place. Despite having a penchant for the hunt, he is unafraid to use his claws when necessary, and even when not. It also manifests in a second way; it makes him a cold and calculated beast, one who believes that weakness should be weeded out at all costs. He presents himself as always put together and his image appears to be often the only thing he cares about. He creates a wall between he and the world through this presentation, keeping his inner thoughts and mechanisms known only to him. MENTOR: Aconite [ PrimordialHaze ]
GIVENCHY-CHAN roleplayed by arethusa A Siamese point tom with a cream marbling on his pelt that vaguely reflects his Bengal ancestry. His optics are a green and yellow mix, as if someone surgically removed chartreuse into its two separate palettes. Yellow streaks at the rim of his eyes, the green pooling in the center. Despite his long and occasionally lanky appearance, he is a pretty-boy sort of handsome on his thin but muscular features. MENTOR: Corvus [ Blue ]
― YOUNGLINGS― We begin with the youngest members of the League. These are the newborn kits that are overseen by the hunters when they are currently not on duty. Use this time well to begin strengthening your fighting skills because it is from here where your path of life will begin.
ALTAYR-CHAN roleplayed by xxsunlight Duality is a tricky thing, and when one is given to fits and tempers, it makes like a tad more complicated. Altayr was named after his supposed father, the Proxy Altaire, though he was really fathered by a Hunter named Hansel. He could not differ more from his namesake, who was cool and collected. While he shares Altaire's well-spoken and self-assured nature, he is far more impulsive and impatient. He's a smaller tom, and a little more spitfire than the average cat. Altayr knows what he wants and if he doesn't receive it upon request, he's prone to verbally degrading the people around him. It's caused more than one conflict in his family, among his five other siblings. This tom is beautiful and he knows it- with soft cream and cocoa fur in a Siamese coloring and captivating sapphire eyes, he uses his physical blessings to captivate the hearts of she-cats, though he doesn't quite care if he keeps them, or if he ends up with kits. Altayr has always felt his shortcomings in fighting and hunting keenly, and has a very temperamental personality, vain and hot-headed despite his charming and clever front. PARENTS: Altaire [Hansel] and Morgana
ALMA-CHAN roleplayed by blue Sweet little Alma. The tiny daughter to inherit the signature striping that marks out her heritage, even if only a pale chocolate ghost against ivory fur. Soft brown bengal stripes against white link her to her mother and, though a pawful of generations removed, the long-lived reign of Pravians that still fill the League. Though the cat to truly bring power to cats of her blood has since left the League, delicate Alma has inherited a different sort of power. Daughter to the Shaman of the League, Morgana, she has the birthright to lay claim to the position of Mage is she so desired. She’s rather content, however, to leave that role to her half-sister. In the shadows abundant within the League, she could seem almost a spectre of death, an ill omen, and to many that is the case. Her twisted curiosity is easily sated, but often it is at the expense of others. She is a dealer of the death she is so intrigued with, alongside her equally twisted brother, Arwan. Together they are a menace, her a vulture picking over the remains of the weak and vulnerable that fall to her claws and him a sweet-talking demon leading the gullible to their own deaths. She’s a tiny little thing, seemingly fragile as glass, able to be knocked over by a hard breeze or shattered by the slightest touch. She uses this apparent vulnerability to her advantage, though. She’s far tougher than she looks, with a backbone of steel and a mind clever and sharp enough to leave scars. She carries some semblance of concern for her littermates, mostly her partner in crime Arwan but also to a lesser extent her other littermates, Albion, Altayr, Aodhan, and Avalon. She may enjoy pushing her ‘queen’ sister, Avalon’s, buttons by constantly challenging her unofficial authority, but even she does Alma somewhat care for. The same goes for her mother and adopted father, Altaire, and even her sister Ravenna. However to any other cat, especially her true father and aunt, Hansel and Gretel, she is distant and detached. It’s far easier to test the limits of others if you don’t allow yourself to become attached after all. PARENTS: Altaire [Hansel] and Morgana
AVALON-CHAN roleplayed by ian Striking and beautiful, with cream fur that is marked by darker point. The hues transition across her pelt from pale and milky to deep coffee colored, as if she was a cup of brew that had not yet been stirred after cream was added. Her eyes are glassy and blue, like the ocean. One looks towards Avalon and pictures a future, perhaps gets a feeling of calm; of peace. Avalon herself is a serene she-cat who is unbothered by the opinions and concerns of those around her. The woes of the world roll off her shoulders, leaving her completely unaffected. This suggests, to many, that she is a pacifist. However, they couldn't be more wrong, and when push comes to shove, they would be met with sharp teeth and wicked claws. Although she is outwardly charasmatic and doesn't seem to be cruel or mean, there is something darker that lies behind her baby blues. Like many in Primal Instinct, like her supposed father, Avalon holds a monster within. Willing to go to drastic measures to protect herself and those she cats for. Avalon is the daughter of Morgana and supposedly Altaire, but reality begs to differ. PARENTS: Altaire [Hansel] and Morgana
― PRISON SYSTEM― Kept in the darkest pit of the camp, the prison system thrives. Guarded by trusted members of the league, the Prison Guards are listed on the left. Prisoners of war who are not eligible for initiation can be found in the center. Cats who have entered the iniation system are found on the right. To read more about the prison system, see the New Order info tab.
GUARDS SENESCENCE roleplayed by Honeystorm CAPTAIN KASDEYA roleplayed by xxsunlight
TRUE PRISONERS --
INITIATION
Prisoner Initiates OMEGA roleplayed by stardance OZAKAR roleplayed by Oceanix KARMA roleplayed by sinful
