icon by @brisskwinds; LOW ACTIVITY til 10/22
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fox and Jadie like this
Post by Cleaver on Sept 17, 2021 8:16:49 GMT -5
CYGNUS roleplayed by CLEAVER
Compared to his intelligent brother Orion, Cygnus often feels inadequate. He's a smart cat, but he doesn't learn as quickly as his brother, and he can't understand the quick leaps Orion is capable of making to arrive at conclusions. He has to work through every step slowly, he has to mumble to himself until he eventually comes to the same conclusion. He feels slow mentally slow whenever he spends too much time with Orion - and he loves his fiercely anyway, he wouldn't give him up for the world, but sometimes he gets frustrated with how hard it is for him to retain and use new information. Whenever Orion makes a mistake, or anyone cat exposes they don't know some obscure fact that Cygnus does, he pounces on the opportunity. A little mocking laugh, a disbelieving gasp, he makes a big scene so everyone can see that he is smarter than someone else. Sometimes he'll even use slang and abbreviations he knows other cats won't understand just so he has a chance to be melodramatic and seek that brief feeling of superiority. He tends to brush these situations off after, feeling a little guilty for taking cheap shots at his friends. Yet Cygnus continues to be unintentionally harsh. He often makes jokes at others' expense and if they voice their dislike, he tends to ignore them and keep bringing up the same humiliating story. He can be forgetful and share secrets before he remembers that he shouldn't. He can be a difficult cat to get along with sometimes, but he has a good heart: when he isn't lashing out about his insecurities, he can be great comic relief and very supportive - just like his father, Landon. He won't sit and listen to your problems like his brother will: instead, he'll give a few quick words of advice, then take the troubled cat to explore the city or do anything else to distract them. Often there's nothing he can do to solve everyone else's heartbreak so he doesn't even try, he just moves on to reminding them about the good things in their life. Cygnus tackles life head on and likes to be active and in motion. He gets fidgety when idle and often will zone out, his mind drifting into space and only coming back minutes later when he's completely missed out on what's going on. He has ambition but it's undirected, he wants to be someone important but he doesn't know how to leave his mark on the world. He isn't worried about making the wrong choice in life, he can always change his mind later, he's more concerned with trying everything and perhaps bumbling into opportunity along the way. Cygnus hasn't made a big impact yet, but he's found small ways to let the world know he was one here: a pawprint in drying cement, scratches in the fence, a can of paint he spilled on a restaurant table. Cygnus is a cream tabby with blue eyes, like his mother Urania, though his fur is mottled with white from lying in the sun and a few accidents involving bleach.
Kittypet - Swiftriver Household
Not looking for a mate; widower of Dawnfrost (strawberrycupid)
Pansexual
LANDON roleplayed by CLEAVER
"Our hero, our hero claims a warrior's heart . . . it's an end to the evil and all Skyrim's foes . . . when the darkness has passed, and the legend yet grows . . . by his honor is sworn to keep evil forever at bay! The fiercest foes rout when they hear triumph's shout! Dragonborn, for your blessing we pray!" (The Dragonborn Comes, Malukah) Bold, arrogant, flashy — he was built to be the king, engineered from the ground up with an attitude to match. On the surface, he's unafraid to flaunt himself, from his handsome muscular form to his particular skills; and he loves making clever comments and annoying his sister whenever he can. He's somewhat childish in nature, always joking and playing around, teasing lightly, but it doesn't mean he can't sober up quick: when a serious situation arises, he's learned to reintroduce the protective nature he obtained as a kitten and do his best to protect the clan. He wants to be leader, a powerful cat, to impress his friends and family, and to prove he can be accomplished. It isn't easy to fit into the pawsteps of his parents, not when one is Phoenixstar and the other is a descendant of leaders (and when his polydactyl paws are a bit too big to fit neatly within the pawprint), and he fights every day to make himself a place in the world. A tom designed for power, his sleek black coat outlines a form consisting of large muscles beneath that teasing smirk.
Kittypet - Swiftriver Household
Mate - Urania (GidgetJoy)
Bisexual
SPARROW roleplayed by CLEAVER
He lost his sanity long ago, and with it went his good heart. He is not cruel or cold, and many cats can’t tell he’s different at all, other than his strange personality, but all of the potential of his youth was gone in an instant and it left him an entirely different cat. Sparrowflight is no longer optimistic or playful, isn’t determined to serve his clan or even particularly loyal; he’s got a grim sense of humor, is extremely laid back, and almost callous to the suffering of others. He doesn’t intend to hurt anyone else and is a poor, though scrappy, fighter; he doesn’t do harm to cats, he merely doesn’t care much about preventing it either. He used to be of SpringClan, son of the leader and apprentice of the deputy, until his audacity led him to Toxicity and Chief Ozora took it all from him. He was half-dead when WinterClan found him, held him prisoner until he forgot himself and his mind broke. Lovers cane and went until a guard fell into prison beside him and became his mate, then a healer, and he was dragged out of prison and given a home until they fled to SunClan under the names of Hottie and Handsome. Sparrowflight tends to go with the flow of what Mistyrose wants and he's learned not to question her. It's better that way for the both of them.
Kittypet
Mate - Misty Rose (ifaith1)
Straight
CHIM roleplayed by CLEAVER
Chim has always been thin, the flesh boiled off his bones until his skin hangs loose and limp, and the traveling life has not served him any better. Food is scarce and difficult to find when you're constantly living in the fridges on unexplored clan territory, but he wouldn't have it any other way.He used to believe it was a mistake that such a colossal failure, a shameful screw-up, could end up the leader of a clan. His whole life had been one mistake after another compiled into one large disaster… and yet he had lived on, clinging to the hope of a better life. He could never repay Violetstar for pulling him from the depths of his despair and giving him purpose, claiming he was special and leading him on to greatness. It was a sweet thought, that he might have a destiny, but one he never believed; one he still doubts to this day, despite evidence to the contrary. He's been told his life has a purpose -- that he lost his eye only once he proved himself capable, so he could see the way forward; that the ripple cough was an omen, that it wasn't an accident he was the only cat to catch it and survive only to die when it returned; that the flood that destroyed his clan was not his fault but another warning for the larger disaster headed his way, paired with the cough for emphasis. Looking back he can draw the connections, see a celestial paw shaping the events that made him…. but how can he fully invest in the idea he caused all that suffering? If he had read the signs, would he have known? Who can truly say they were meant for him? The prophet told him he would rule again after his exile, and so he does, and that is enough for Chim. He doesn't need a divine life, just a happy clan, and he is grateful and relieved to see his family safe and settled at the end of each night. Perhaps it was paranoia that drove his new habits within the clan, to focus on movement and change and communication, to help the frail and the weak and the injured find a new purpose, but he can't say he gives a rat's tail. Proud and ornery as ever, he has a lean hunger-pang frame and his bones, fighting for freedom against his skin, are nearly as sharp as his tongue. Time has not tempered his wit or his sarcasm; his heart may be gentle but that doesn’t mean he acts like it. Cats called him handsome before, though he can’t imagine anyone thought the gaping crater on the right side of his face was attractive to look upon. He used to claim it was his good side, that the ugly mass of scars masked the bitter grief. He still does not believe himself to be handsome, but at least he smiles on occasion, and the bitterness has softened to fondness. Cats see him and they think he’s serious and harsh and immovable— and they aren’t wrong, but he has a warmth inside too that he’s learning to let out. His family saw it, his friends, even his apprentices, but now he trusts his clan to feel his joy.Chim named SwiftClan, he build it from the ground up, and he knows every cat within its ranks intimately. He trusts because he knows everyone close to him. Once, he feared no cat would dare follow him, not after he failed and destroyed his old clan, and yet he isn’t alone. Chim will never understand how he can be so unlucky and yet the luckiest cat in the world at the same time, but he is extremely grateful for every cat at his side. Too gruff to say it out loud, but appreciative all the same. He has never been a fan of cats that command power, and wandering nomads are even more difficult to keep track of and command. Chim is perfectly fine with that, less centralized power suits him anyway, and he trusts his cats to take care of themselves without his governance. Instead, he walks among his cats and greets them and welcomes them, celebrates their lives and consoles their hardships, encourages their growth in his one no-nonsense way. He has never believed he’s charismatic and has always struggled to interact with everyone else, but somehow, they find the patience for him. SwiftClan became his family, everything he had left, but with time they grew independent, and he was finally able to rest. Chim and his mate, Pygmyprawn, retired to a quiet little former prison far from the clans and only visit occasionally.
Loner
Mate - Pygmyprawn (simplylight)
Biromantic asexual
EBONY roleplayed by CLEAVER
Just when EarthClan had lost its medicine cats, a loner showed up at the border. Older, mature, with an intelligent light in his eyes. Long black hairs, multi-shaded gold eyes, and whiskers white with age. He didn't share much about his past with them, and most assumed he was born and raised outside of clan influence; he has no intention to correct their thinking, to explain that he really was born as a pure-blooded EarthClan cat. He's visited many walks of life in his lifetime, and it left him wise, with an appreciation for the simple and the complex. Where he learned the art of herbs he also won't share, but his knowledge is extensive. One could assume he has a long-lost mentor. Ebonygold lives a quiet life, listening and helping, but not often does he share about himself. Where he came from, how he learned what he knows, if he had a family. He may not have one now, but at some point he might've had brothers or sisters. He's old enough any kits he may have had would be a young warrior's age. Over time he opened up only to two - his apprentice, Ambersky, and the SunClan medicine cat Mountainsound. When it came to be that he was forced to leave, he did so, fleeing to the clan of his best friend. There the old tom could not be a healer anyone, and he learned long ago he is not fit of the life of a warrior; and so he found himself retired to the elder's den, taking up the role of the clumsy elder. Attempting to interrogate him will only leave one with the impression he had a mind of stone and will not crack under any sort of pressure, no matter how great the burden. Ebonygold left his clan to join his mate, Mountainsound, in SunClan. When Bloodystar took power, he fled to DayClan to protect their newborn kittens. Moons later he met up with his mate again and they created a happy healing shack on the border between DayClan and SunClan.
Loner
Mate - Mountainsound (Honeystorm)
Demisexual
UNDER roleplayed by CLEAVER
He was named for his black-and-white coat, but the formidable ropes of taut muscle beneath his skin match the badger all the same. Swirling grey vortex markings mark his underbelly, with a skeletal mark on his right back leg and slashes across his ribs that rarely display their true white: grass rubbing once dyed them green, but the golden fields of DayClan left them luminous, and the dark pursuits of his youth left them splattered with scarlet. In his new icy province they’ve adapted a muted ivory, with the occasional snarl of black mud. His eyes are a radioactive green speckled with a reddish copper and are as toxic as the rest of him. When the League born tom moved to the clans to guard his mother from her opposers, he found himself in a transformed, surreal world: instead of the careless lifestyle of bloodshed he had grown accustomed to, the warriors were scrupled, ignorant, and mere fledglings to the art of war. They amused him, like pathetic kittens traipsing underpaw, and as his siblings drifted back to their murderous games he restrained himself in favor of infiltrating their clan and infuriating the resident healer. This could only hold his attention so long, however, and when the life grew tiresome he moved on. He never intended to be tied down to the clan and preferred to be on his own, but when he happened upon one ripe for the taking, he couldn’t resist—even reluctantly embracing their naming customs. Machiavellian, surly, and rude, he is nobody’s first choice for a friend, and that suits him well enough. Undercliff does not have friends, barely takes allies, and the cats that mistrust him are the only wise ones in the clan. He likes to play the wild card and does as he likes, making the only predictable indication of his next action how it benefits himself. The survivalist playing with clan games knows how to rescue himself before he gets in too deep and is unlikely to sacrifice himself for anyone, merely walking away instead. Not even his own family is enough to earn his life, a fact that puts him at odds with his unstable siblings, though he frankly does not mind. While some may see him as detached and rational, the only member of the family that might hold onto strings of sanity, he has not forgotten his youth: not the thrill of the chase nor the satisfying crunch of a victim in his jaws. Understar is an excellent strategist and as far as WinterClan leaders go, not the worst; he has the grim determination to protect his home until it becomes too much of a burden, and is too proud to abandon it in the midst of a great battle. War is what he lives for and he has a mind for tactics and bold plays, a willingness to make sacrifices and cut the most brutal of path to establish his dominance. Cats are nothing more to him than pawns to be used, and he overlooks their pettiness so long as they will still march when he commands. Those that don’t might find their end a little sooner than they anticipated. Rightfully, when he first took over most cats didn’t trust him, and still don’t: the first time the clan saw him he murdered their clanmates, and he lived in DayClan and has League blood, two of the clan’s enemies at the time. To smooth over his transition Understar made a few key, private moves. His mother was the leader of DayClan, so it was no issue for him to steal kits from one of the clan’s queens, as payback for the kits they had stolen from WinterClan moons ago. He arranged for an apprentice to be his deputy, an unlikely scenario, but it was exactly that he wanted: someone easily molded to what he liked. He made a secret alliance with the assassin of the League, correctly guessing his true purposes, and finally leveraged this connection to kidnap the son of the Nemesis herself, Vera. To the she-cat this would no doubt be an unforgivable slight and welcome war, but with Ruslan’s help they covered their tracks too well for anyone to do anything but guess that what happened. He made an ally of the she-cat whose son he had stolen by leading his clan against his old home to massacre them and teach a lesson, though his cats mostly watched instead of participating, which suited him well. His methods may be unorthodox and seemingly random, but the calloused leader knows exactly what he’s doing as he slowly shifts everything into place to cement his reign.
Loner
Single, not looking
Sexuality unknown
KROSIS roleplayed by CLEAVER
A curly-furred, scraggly tabby tom with glaring green eyes. Krosis was a NightClan warrior before he left the clans to live in a quiet cave with his mate, Saltpile. They've allowed many cats to pass through and live in their clan, and he continued this tradition after her death protecting her half-brothers. Krosis was born mute.
Loner
Single, not looking
Sexuality unknown
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