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.
VALERIAN-CHAN roleplayed by Cleaver The silken prince of Vera E'tani and Understar, he was better than everyone else from the start. His royal blood afforded him privilege and a comfortable life, and he grew up with the certainty he'd have the best mentors and companions in the League. What he wanted, he got; no cat would dare cross his family, so with only a couple of threats, and later his claws, he learned to get his way. Though he claimed he worked hard for what he got, later in life he would reflect and realize he never put in hard work at all: he didn't work through the endless long nights, fighting his bruised and exhausted body to keep going just a bit longer. He took it easy, faced his training almost as another joke, and relied on his natural skill to get by. It was clear he had inherited some of his father's laziness, as he enjoys nothing more than stretching out on a warm rock to soak in the rays, and tends to wave away any problems. Soon enough, thought, his boredom breed discontentment, as he started to become aware he was missing out on life. As much as he enjoyed sleeping in, the young cat found there he had no idea what genuine hard work was like. He was bored, because he felt like his natural skill was too good, and he had never been challenged. Maybe that was his own fault, for never even trying to give his all; maybe it was just his blood. And so, Valerian started to work on his own. The young hunter asked his friends to gang up on him, fighting two on one, three on one, four on one - and time and again he lost, fell bruised and battered and bloody, but finally he started to see marked success. Slowly, Valerian learned to look back the gifts he had been given, and become something more. A strong, richly colored bengal with yellow eyes.
Mellori-chan Rolepayed by Spottedleaffan21 Mallori 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. Rank: Youngling Parents: Driscal and Corvus
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.
THYME roleplayed by Archerz Sleeping through a fire is nearly impossible. The light, the heat, the smoke; it wakes you up and gets you moving. This is what Thyme hates. Like the rest of his litter, Thyme was cursed. His terrible curse was insomnia and insomnia induced hallucination. In his intense emerald eyes, Thyme sees himself as the fire. Even his bright ginger, flame-like fur alludes to this. His twin sister, Tansy, is the calming fire though, Thyme only being able to sleep when she is pressed against him. Despite everything though, Thyme loves his family. Due to his hallucinations, the tom stays away from anyone, making him seem shy. At times, Thyme will end up breaking down, unable to handle the overwhelming visions. His build is small, which is convenient to Thyme. He's terrified to have a mate, scared he will hurt them or pass the curse to his kits. Hunter
KASDEYA-CHAN 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.
Youngling *Parents: deceased deserters of the League
I CAN'T KEEP TRACK OF MY THREADS! So if I'm not responding fast enough, tag me!
459 posts
Post by brightleaf on Feb 4, 2019 10:59:07 GMT -5
CRASS-CHAN roleplayed by brightleaf Crass has always been an easygoing cat despite his parents and siblings. He seems to be unfazed by anything and shows no interest either. He still wishes for his mother's approval but doesn't quite reach her expectation. He is a fierce fighter, but a not so loyal cat. When he becomes a full fledged member of Primal Instinct, he realizes that this isn't what he wanted in life and goes off to be a rogue. Rank youngling *Parents (Driscal and Corvus)
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POSTEDFeb 7, 2019 1:58:22 GMT -5 TO primal instinct
HANSEL roleplayed by blankslate Cruelty created by solitude, fostered in the dark of ones own loneliness. The world is a broken place, those within toys for others with more power, more influence, more control. But if one is doomed to a life of being anothers plaything then maybe they should prove to be one of the more difficult ones to handle. Maybe they should take their victories where they can get them, small or large, obvious or not. Ignorance festers and feeds mediocrity while knowledge encourages revolution and revolt. Middle ground left undiscovered and unsettled. Two sides face each other in war but there is always an in-between. Hansel walks this line, ready to play hero or villain. Dashing rescuer or crooked thief his moral compass spins in whichever direction leads to the most entertaining outcome. This wavering stance leaves him bereft of a dock, left to weather storms on his own with only his sisters a lighthouse to help mark his way. Always evolving and changing Hansel is a pandoras box of a tom. hunter
GRETEL roleplayed by blankslate Suffering under responsibility. Gretel has always been forced to be a steady rock, a voice of reason, a fun killer as some might call her. Not quite a pessimist but definitely a realist. A warrior queen in her own right and just as fierce as the most unhinged barbarians. But one with an iron control on her own desires and wants; knowing how to neglect herself to keep things on path. In the darkest times of her youth it was her making the sacrifices to keep her twin brother in line and alive. It was her planning moons in advance, keeping track of what they had, watching the tides to know where to steer their ship. She is a lighthouse in the dark waters of uncertainty. hunter
[ I'll probably come back and edit these bios after I rp them more. Still playing with their character ideas. ]
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POSTEDFeb 7, 2019 2:16:43 GMT -5 TO primal instinct
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. hunter
Post by finchwhisker on Feb 8, 2019 0:01:38 GMT -5
EUGENE roleplayed by finchwhisker A large, scrawny black tom with dreary black fur, prominent ribs, and watery green eyes. There's something haunted about them, something hollow and numb and afraid - where once they were beautiful, there is now only quiet, fragile grief and a shivery mania suspended in them like dust motes in pale sunlight. Most cats notice this and, frightened, keep a wide distance. He doesn't mind - scarcely notices, really. He's lonely, certainly, but he works himself raw to the bone and, more often than not, that helps to forget. Quiet and unassuming, he has an involuntarily twitch that affects the left side of his body, particularly his eye, his lips, and his front leg. And yet, he has such an incredible capacity for hope - he believes so strongly in the right thing, and in the fundamental goodness in all creatures. However, the right thing is not always necessarily the good thing. He believes in goodness, yes, to the extent that he almost worships other cats - or, rather, the holy innocence he projects onto them, the purity, the virtue. This blind veneration verges on mania - he wants to take them apart, inspect their insides, untangle their nerves and find piety in their veins. He wants to understand them, know them. He surrounds himself with death, spends his nights huddled over corpses, muttering and quivering and whispering and pleading with them for forgiveness. Oh, he loves them a little too much - and dead things can't hurt him. Dead things can't leave. Dead things, he can pretend, love him back. The hope, you see, turned to obsession, and the obsession turned to madness. Growing up as a rogue on the streets with his sister, Littlestep, he was the quiet optimist - their lives were difficult, but their stomachs weren't empty; they saw suffering, but they witnessed the strength of life; the nights were cold, but they always found warmth. He was tentatively happy, softly hopeful. And then he learned that there was such a thing as death. He tasted blood on the air, saw murder - learned that he was fundamentally so very, very weak. He tried to nurse cats back to health, tried to bring perfect strangers back to life with quiet pleas and a breaking heart. But he was useless. He couldn't save them. He could never save them. He wasn't enough. There was only death. When he was seven moons old, his sister abandoned him in the dead of night. He awoke to find her gone, and learned another lesson: he is not worth staying for. Alone on the streets, he fell victim to the torment of others. They scorned him and left him bleeding in the gutter more than once. The warmth of his kithood was over, and real life crept in, cold and empty and Christened in blood. He eventually found his way onto EarthClan territory, and tried to leave all the ghosts of the cats he couldn't save behind. But while he lived as a Clan cat, he could never stop thinking about all that death - about all the things that weren't yet understood, about all the things he wanted to know. It evolved into an obsession. He began to dissect prey, studying their guts and falling ever more infatuated with the mystery of why things die. Eventually, before he was able to start studying the cadavers of kits, the Clan caught wind of his unsavoury fascination and drove him from the territory. He finally ended up in Primal Instinct, where he is free to conduct his studies undisturbed. But it isn't morbid, you must realise. It isn't sordid or macabre or sadistic. Oh, no, it isn't anything like that at all - he loves them. He grieves for them. He kills them, but he does it because it's what's best for them, because it will make them better, because life is sick and messy and only death is clean and pure - and each time, his heart breaks as he pulls out their organs and inspects all the things that used to make them tick. You have to understand. He's only trying to help you. Hunter
i hope that's all g (sorry it's so long pfff)!! i'll skip the initiation process if that's okay <33
Edited Feb 13, 2019 0:29:35 GMT -5 By finchwhisker
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POSTEDFeb 17, 2019 17:54:30 GMT -5 TO primal instinct
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. hunter
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POSTEDFeb 22, 2019 17:01:00 GMT -5 TO primal instinct
LOVETTA roleplayed by Arethusa A middle-sized dark grey she cat with green eyes. Her appearance has really nothing of note. She's a reserved cat, introverted but not shy. Hunter
