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!
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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.
So these are RP positions that need to be filled. I want to actually do something with them so I want them filled. Since they are RP positions, it doesn't matter if you hold another position in another clan, you can always tryout for these. There are currently THREE slots open (3 warriors)
DESCRIPTION: An elite group of warriors consisting of Senior Warriors, known as the Lunar Guards, were established as protectors of the Top 3 (the Leader. Deputy, and Medicine Cat respectively). Four cats, in total are chosen, however. The head Guard is known as the "Lunar Captain" and protects the current leader, and is in charge of three subordinates. They normally have the most battle experience. The other two warriors are protect the Deputy and MC. If anything were to happen to the Captain, one of the would fill the role. Members serve for life or until they are challenged and beaten by another warrior.
BIO: "I'm the pretty prince of parties, you're a tasty piece of pastry – you're so lighty, flighty, flakey. I go where the party takes me." He's gorgeous, beautiful, ethereal – moi! Magnifique! With luscious, soft, feathery silver tabby-ish fur that has elements of orange and every other color under the horizon, he tosses his head this way, that way, away from your face because no, and look at that fur flow. Like the silkiest water along the stones in a bank. A brook. A creek. Like a gentle waterfall careening into a pool gracefully. Gracefully falling. His eyes are like honey held in a mason jar; beautiful and sweet, but sticky. They stick to you. They won't let go. Let me help you with that, let's just. Right. You didn't need that hair anyway. He will captivate you! First metaphorically, then literally. Like a bee trap. Buzz buzz. On to the glorious details! "I'm a funky monkey junky, you're a flunky, bunky donkey. You're a picture of the devil's daughter, I'm a pitcher of holy water." Suffice to say, ever since he was just a young child – his coat wasn't nearly as wonderful as it is now – he knew he liked boys. Where the girls of his age would gather around the entrance of the camp, admiring the warriors that walked in dirty and bloody and with scowls on their faces, rating them based upon their mate material – would he be kind? Would he be able to provide? That one smells, that one's a 0, he's only good for his looks – he found himself admiring them along with the girls. They're not too bad, he'd think, maybe a little scruffy but who isn't? He personally liked them scruffy. The rougher they looked, the better. Insert eyebrow wiggle. Because he knew he liked boys from a very young age, he found himself struggling with one thing: did anyone else know? Nooo, they couldn't... could they? He thought he was very inconspicuous and rather subtle, which he was proud of. (He would later learn as an adult that this was a daft belief, he was – is – practically a walking rainbow.) But an even more pressing thought: Would he ever meet his own boy? Would they love him? Dreamy sigh. "Oh, pretty prince pro parties, where's the party now? (I don't know) Oh, pretty prince off parties, where does water go? (I let it flow-ow-ow)" Until he meets his happy friend to spend the rest of his life with him – they would have so much fun, they'd have spa days, they'd go on date nights, and one day maybe even listen to the pitter patter of tiny feet! – he spends his time being the best person he can be. Sure, he does all of that regular stuff, like practicing his hunting, providing for the clan, defending the clan, working on his fighting technique, etc... but it's the really fancy stuff that will win him his suitor. Like practicing his alphabet. Learning to paint his nails with different kinds of berries. (Blueberries are his favorite.) Working on his singing. Playing air guitar. It's all really hard work and at the end of the day it's exhausting, but he knows he's doing it to better himself – and to win a truly quality mate. "Oh, pretty prince of parties, can I come to your party? (No) Oh, pretty prince of parties, where do you get your clothes? (They're made of snow, pretty party clothes crocheted of snow)" Oh, you're wondering where this suitor's going to come from? Well, darling, I'm glad you asked. He's very popular with the boys; they all seem to adore him and fight over him, it's really quite spectacular. He adores it. But he knows that special someone, whoever they may be, wherever they are – they aren't just going to fight. They're going to win. His perfect victor. But until he meets them and subsequently claims them entirely for all eternity, he enjoys the fun he has. He hardly ever is alone; after all, who enjoys being lonely? No one, you're right. And you, Sandra Dee, hush. No one cares. "I'm the Mickey Maori minstrel, you're the high priestess of tinsel. I'm the guru god of ganja. Ramashalanka lanka, Ravi Shankar." Well isn't he spectacular? After this entire autobiography, you'd think he's a god (goddess? either way, he's the only Queen) but it's okay. Everyone thinks that way after meeting him. You can, of course, be his friend. He loves making friends. The more people to giggle with and talk about boys with, the better. But, wait... what do you mean his history? What history? Silly goose, he doesn't have a history. He just wound up here. Phoenixstar found him at the border one day and was like 'Hey, you're pretty.' 'Oh why thank you.' 'Pretty tough.' 'Am I? Oh thank you, doll.' And then that was it. He became a member of MoonClan and... yeah. He still doesn't know what's going on. Why is everyone so grumpy? Why do apprentices not like working? I mean, he doesn't want to break a nail... but wouldn't they rather be out there, alone with all those strapping lads? It's his perfect paradise. Those girls back at the capitol don't know what they're missing. "La la la la la la la la la. La la la la la la la la laaaaa."
IDEAS / PLOTS / SUGGESTIONS / ETC: solstice celebrations, more traditions, clan-wide plots that incorporate more fun topics that allow more users to be involved on a grander scale.
Bio: He was never the biggest tom in the world. A small dark brown and white tabby tom with light yellow-green eyes and delicate voice that most mistake for a she-cat. A frail little sparrow struggling to fly in the heavy winds. He learned hardship from a young age, having to take on raising his five younger sisters alongside his littermates, Petaldusk and Mouserunner, after their parents tragic deaths. He was taught both the harsh reality of the world around him and the responsibility of being a provider. A sparrows songs of struggle and peace in acceptance for the cards he has been dealt. As a kit and apprentice he struggled to hold his own in training and battle. His bones were weak and frail, breaking at any small shove and push to the ground. Mocked and ridiculed for his small size and completely weak structure, he was doomed for failure from the very beginning. Sparrowstep always held his head high, though, and dedicated his life to proving the naysayers wrong. This is also when he learned that he prefered the romantic company of a tom as opposed to a molly; liking the attention he got from bigger, stronger toms, letting them protect him while he fell into the role of a submissive caretaker to them. He strengthened his bones with constant exercise and made up for his small size in muscle mass, he heighted his senses with the help of Petaldusk lending her blind wisdom, he learned patience and virtue from the struggles of playing big brother and father figure to his young orphaned sisters: Tinyblaze, Ashpelt, Springswirl, Feathercloud, and Honeytail; strengthened his body and spirit with intense training and rebutting his critics. A sparrow gets stronger and stronger, smarter and smarter, until he finally finds the spirit to make the skies his own. Sparrowstep has learned to use his charisma and wit to sway violence in his time as a scrawny young tom. Despite his intense training to strengthen his bones and muscles, Sparrowstep is still susceptible to fractures and sprains, having to be very careful with the fights he picks and chooses. He uses his title as Lunar Guard, one that he worked hard to earn, to prove that anything is possible with dedication and high spirits. Even the weakest of fledglings struggling to fly can outrun the falcons if they will it.
Ideas/Plots/Suggestions/etc.: maybe traditions or celebrations or some sort of plot for eclipses. maybe a celebration of life for a solar eclipse and a death celebration with a lunar eclispe.
Bio: A handsome desert rose forced to flourish underneath cool night sky, white moonlight and twinkling stars. Dipped in a sea of sleek ebony velvet fur. His chest, throat, face, belly, paws, and tail tip all highlighted is royal shades of dark silver to luminous white. Dotting the areas of blank white canvas is a pattern of tiny black swirling rosettes. Along with his odd fur pattern is his strikingly tall height similar to his father Phthaloabyss and grandfather Kabraxis. Besides his strikingly tall height, his trademark feature is the pair of oversized ears that stand proudly on top of his head. Built with a slender body and a long snake like tail. Echeveriajinx could have made an excellent Hunter someday. A dream that he had hoped to achieve from the days he was old enough to dream of becoming a future warrior. Having the chance to follow in the pawsteps of his Deputy mother Sterlingdiadem or possibly take after his Lunar Captain father Phthaloabyss. Alas the Lunar God had set out other plans for his future at the beginning of his birth. Being that of a uncommon birth. Echeveriajinx and his siblings were born during the midday rather than at night like so many other litters in Moonclan. Echeveriajinx has known about this fact since he was young. A fact that he has mulled over and twisted around in his head. Convinced that he was somehow cursed by the Solar God. Echeveriajinx has set his life work determined to proving his worth to the Lunar God. Making him forever a stickler to the rules. Walking a straight line in life the former Medicine Cat Apprentice found the medical life not one for him especially after he couldn’t save his best friend from dying. Rather to become more like his father and mother. To strive for a position similar to their’s so he could protect rather then heal his clanmates.
Ideas/Plots/Suggestions/etc.: I think Moonclan needs more traditions that are uniquely to them. Ones that maybe revolve around the Lunar Calender or Lunar and Solar eclipse.
