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.
<font size="4" color="#F5DFC1"><b>BLUE }} jadie </b></font><br> <font size="2" color="#F5DFC1"><p>She’s a diminutive she-cat without an ounce of fat on her, icy blue eyes seemingly too big for her narrow face. Her short, lusterless black coat shows her no favors, highlighting each rib and sharp angle. Blue is not beautiful, but perhaps could have been if she hadn’t nearly starved to death as a kit, the trauma irreparably stunting something in her digestive track. Even after being rescued by a passing League cat, she was never adopted into a family or properly cared for as a kit. She managed to survive by eating scraps left behind by other cats and avoiding direct conflict. As a result, Blue developed a sharp nose and is able to move through most any terrain silent as a ghost, her dark fur and small size further aiding her impeccable camouflage. If only she had managed to stay hidden. A chance encounter led her to catch Funk’s eye and she soon let him into her heart. Predictably, kits soon followed, but she was never more than a fling to him. She knew it from the beginning, but it still broke her heart. Her following promotion to Mage and then Shaman was salt for the wound. She tried to serve him as any League cat was duty-bound to do. She had never really been happy and didn’t think she deserved it... that is, until Miracle came into her life. Her new love taught her that maybe, just maybe, she was worth something to someone, and she ultimately convinced Blue to move to the Regime. Since Miracle is a direct-line Eerie, Blue now finds herself surrounded by the family she always wanted and is finally starting to come out of her shell after years of trauma and abuse.</p></font><br>
rank: Scout (She doesn't have enough self confidence to be a Guider, although perhaps Miracle can convince her otherwise...) mentor: n/a
<font size="2" color="#F5DFC1"><p>Fiercely loyal and terrifyingly trust-worthy, Castiel made a prime candidate to become one of the elite Sentinels of the Regime. Although it was never his dream, he was chosen. Despite being born outside the clans in a rogue group known as The Garrison, Castiel's loyalties have proven to be oriented towards his clan, not to The Garrison. The group had been cut off from all others for most of Castiel's life, leaving him clueless about everything normal for cats. Only a select few were given the ability to leave the curtained cave that made up their camp, and Castiel was not one of those selected cats. Leaving meant exile, and to Cas, the camp was the only thing the world consisted of. It never even crossed his mind that there might be more. He was raised to protect and always look at the bigger picture. Sacrifice must be made to protect whomever you were assigned to. Not a single claw was to be laid on the protected target. Castiel never received somecat to protect, rendering his entire life meaningless. Somehow, the tom cat was passed over, which seems difficult, due to the fact the his blue eyes had seemingly soaked up all color from the sky. Unfortunately, Castiel's brown pelt blended into the muddied walls of the cave, balancing out his magnificent eyes. Still, being forgotten pushed away the tom's loyalty and he took off, unable to bear the inability to do what he was raised to. After moons of lonely travels, he stumbled upon Renegade Regime, where finally his skills would prove to be very useful.</p></font><br>
<font size="2" color="#F5DFC1"><p>Feeling abandoned is a nightmare. Never good enough, never able to impress. It hurts, primarily when it's directed towards the two cats you love most; Your adopted father and brother. Sammy's adopted mother was burned alive in a forest fire when he was old three days old after being kidnapped from an unknown clan, leaving him with his vengeful father, John, and his tyrannical older brother, Dean. Dean and Sammy were raised like warriors, never able to live like the kits they were. The benevolent kitten tried so hard to stay kind and caring, but after being pushed and pushed towards the edge of the cliff, which would inevitably lead to him spiraling down and twisting into a merciless executioner. Desperately trying to escape that fate, Sammy ran away. The starving tom wandered until he ended up in Renegade Regime. Even though he was only eight moons old, he knew how to take care of himself thanks to his upbringing. Hesitantly, the group took him in and watched him. Not only did the young tom know how to take care of himself, but he knew how to lead and care for others. He spent every waking moment caring for the others in his group. He has a warm and kind look, with chocolate brown fur and two warm amber eyes, making him seem kind and trust-worthy. Never again did he see Dean and John, but he adored his new life. After a while, Commander Sean made him the Head Cadet Raiser, and then on to Raiser Superior. He was ecstatic, filling him with determination to do his very best. That was when he met Castiel. The Guider was much older than Sammy, but he still took care of him and watched over him. With the encouragement of his new friend, he began to attempt to make the Regime seem good, trustworthy. Unfortunately, the regime wasn't where he wanted to be, and it would never change. He stayed for a long time, purely to watch Castiel ascend through the ranks. Still, he knew he needed to leave. He desperately needed to run, to escape. So he did. He ended up in Brookclan where he stayed for moons as a higher up. When the clan fell however, he ended up right back where he startedat the regime.</p></font><br>
<font size="2" color="#F5DFC1"><p>Kutsū. Agony. Have you ever felt pain so brutal and painful that it forced a scream out of your throat? That all you could think of is the pain you were feeling? It overwhelmed you, drowning your mind and soul in torture? This feeling is agony, or Kutsū in japanese. It's something you can't escape of and never will. Agony isn't just something physical, it's mental and emotional too. It's something you feel deep inside. It's terrifying. Kutsū has felt agony his entire life. Being born into a rogue family can do that. They had a happy life, until the dogs came. Kutsū watched his mothers stomach be ripped out of her, his sister get eaten. After that, his father was abusive. The black kitten ran off, terrified of what his father would do to him. That's when he stumbled into the Toxicity territory. He finally felt at home, and adopted the name Kutsū. His past still haunts him to this day. Shadows and fear's his ally and home. His gray-blue eyes are cold and calculating from what was done to him. He is the example of Kutsū; of agony.</p></font><br>
<font size="4" color="#F5DFC1"><b>EARTHA }} Faith </b></font><br> <font size="2" color="#F5DFC1"><p>There’s no one you can trust less than boys, the loser species of the planet. Growing up Eartha came from a respectable family in the Regime, the good kid that raised their paw, was intellectually outspoken, and always time. The perfect daughter to any family in the Regime back then was married off to a tom of great importance. Eartha was always looking for her future soulmate and one day she found it in Oz, a league hunter. Oz was tall, had rebellious opinions she never heard of, and talked about life like he could rule the world if he wanted to. No one in the Regime ever talked in such a way, she was fascinated, hanging onto every word, believing every story he told. In her world there were no liars, no one in the Regime would dare, it was dishonorable, she never imagined he would lie about a thing. But there were lies he told that began to unravel. He said he would only love her, but he lied. He had a girlfriend, but promised her that only made her more special that he was willing to leave his love every night for her. He said all his stories were true, but he lied. Oz would retell stories, but they would change each time, but he assured her he just loved theatrics. He said he would take care of her when she was pregnant. So Eartha waited at the border in the dead of night. But he lied. She had broken the Regime’s code, she was pregnant with an outsiders kits. The Regime imprisoned her on the island, surrounded by so much sewage and sludge she couldn’t even reach the shores edge without losing the contents in her stomach. By the time her kits were born it was hate at first sight, but they were all she had. Growing up the twins she gave birth to learned to live independently fast. Her son was an angel, but her daughter was the devil, the two couldn’t have been more different. By the time she was let out the Regime was under new management. Eartha, like most Regime parents, was hard on her kits, but her discipline methods were brutal and effective. Eventually by the end of her kits time as cadets her son, Sean had become a sentinel and her daughter Lilith had run away to the league. When Eartha grew a bit older she retired from the Regime as a kittypet, but now has returned with more than enough parenting knowledge to keep the present era of Regime kits in line.</p></font><br>
<font size="4" color="#F5DFC1"><b>GALEN-TYKE }} jadie </b></font><br> <font size="2" color="#F5DFC1"><p>Midnight granite accented with subtle champagne speckling. A caress of golden tabby stripes on one side of her face, a splash on one hind paw. Like her mother, Gardenia, Galen has honey-gold eyes and a big bushy tail, but otherwise she’s the picture of her father, Undertow, sharing the exact same facial structure and sleek pelt. She’s the perfect combination of her parents at a glance, but her personality couldn’t be any more different. She’s peppy, cheerful, in-your-face and loud. Her personality combined with a seemingly limitless supply of energy make her extremely overwhelming for most cats. Friendly for sure, but also no angel, she has a reputation of arguing just for the sake of arguing. Galen hates silence, simple as that, and wants to make waves so she can ride them. Because of her sometimes hypocritical nature, Galen comes off as a bit of an airhead, although she is actually far more intelligent than she lets on. She likes to play dumb so others let their guard down around her, but rest assured that she is taing notes, waiting for just the right moment to drop some gossip and repeat the cycle.</p></font><br>
<font size="4" color="#F5DFC1"><b>BRINE-TYKE }} woof </b></font><br> <font size="2" color="#F5DFC1"><p>Take something precious and pretty, add in some pity, and you've got a clear picture of Brine. The son of Gardenia and Undertow, and the runt of his siblings, he was mostly shielded from the horrors the world has to offer and remained oblivious to them for much of his upbringing. It made him invincible-- or so he likes to think. His parents' love acts like armor, impenetrable to piteous glances at his small stature or calico fur, and he's always hurried out of earshot before someone can mention his one clouded eye. His good eye is a beautiful pale green, like a dew drop reflecting new birth in spring, and against the ebony, ivory, and bursts of tabbied gold across his body, it stands out loud and proud. The world is accepted at face value; without anything else to compare his experiences to, he's grown arrogant and snarky, a self-proclaimed prince. But whether he's fit to grow in a king depends on which is stronger: His will to press forward or the world's cruelty to his handicap.</p></font><br>
<font size="4" color="#F5DFC1"><b>TERRA-TYKE }} GidgetGal </b></font><br> <font size="2" color="#F5DFC1"><p>Perhaps it was a bit of a playful joke on the Blind Protector's part, that the eldest tyke of two former Mercenary Superiors would be one of the most outspoken pacifists in the Renegade Regime. Terra certainly would fit the part should she have followed in Undertow and Gardenia's pawsteps: sharing her father's large build and paws, while being the near mirror-image of her mother with her long, flowing bombshell blonde fur and fluffy tail. What separates herself from both are her eyes, a deep green so unusually vibrant that neither are sure where she inherited them. As the first-born, Terra comes across as the most level-headed and responsible of her siblings. Among their peers she is probably the most popular of the four, being generally good-natured and relaxed, with her being seen as the most 'normal' in comparison. However, as her family and closest friends can attest, she is incredibly prideful; a know-it-all at the best of times and unreasonably arrogant at the worst. Stubborn to a fault, she refuses to give up on a goal she sets for herself, regardless of the obstacles in her path, and it takes a near-herculean effort to get her to admit she was wrong about something. Nevertheless, Terra has a genuinely good and kind heart, even with her stubborn ego, and will go any length to help and protect her home. </p></font><br>
Post by strawberrycupid on Nov 2, 2020 18:05:47 GMT -5
updated bio for Huntleigh
Like father, like son; they say. If his father had kept his destiny of becoming a main character, maybe Huntleigh wouldn't have turned out the way he had. That destiny was passed down to him, and Huntleigh's paws are just as shaky as his. His fur is an ocean of shadows that drape across his body like long veils of silk. Along the side of one of his turquoise eyes is a crescent moon marking, peeking out from his dark fur like the moon in the night. The marking is identical to his father Duskslayer's. He has a single white right paw that looks as though his paw was dipped into the lunar moon itself. At first glance, he seems like he's got the world in his paws. Huntleigh carries himself with a shocking amount of confidence and apathy, where he could tell you the sky was falling with such seriousness; you'll need to do a double-take. The undisputed cool kid of his litter, his sense of self-inflated. Huntleigh is always looking for the next big thing, the coolest things to do, and tends to have a foul mouth so he looks even cooler. His dreams of rebellion and being the outlier led to him being left behind in the Regime by his family as they went to Sunclan. Even with the support of his family, Huntleigh didn't know how to cope with it. He felt like his family cared more about Sunclan than him. And his awful coping mechanism turned out to be anger, funneling all the loathing he felt onto one figure. Making a mountain out of a molehill, he despises his immediate family. Especially his father, Duskslayer. Even though he was warned about this road, he still takes it. Spiteful and clever, he'll do anything he can to get even. To be heard. But he's also one to believe wholeheartedly in his friends and family. Huntleigh adores his grandparents, Sean and Shule, as well as his sister Astrid and his friend Rottenpaw. Huntleigh will do whatever he can to protect and help them, no matter the consequences. Or if he won't, another persona of his will. But he can't defeat the monster he made on his own. It's far bigger than anyone expected and is about to lead him down a dark dark path.
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POSTEDNov 22, 2020 20:15:15 GMT -5 TO renegade regime
<font size="2" color="#F5DFC1"><p>With her lazy wit and casual defiance, she was always testing boundaries in her youth, and age has only sharpened her senses. Her mother always fussed over her, worried that she would never be fully accepted into their new home if she looked so wild and acted like a common rogue. The Regime wanted proper cats, polite and gentle and dainty, soldiers that obeyed every command— and young Illyn could not tolerate their stifling decrees. She rebelled every chance she was given and her mentor strictly nudged her back into her line, and she endured endless frustrations that she could never best him. Illyn was too young and too eager, and she couldn’t match the trained mercenary in a fight, so eventually she bowed to his will and the rules. Her spirit wasn’t broken, but dormant, and slowly she learned patience. Slowly, she learned to play the long game. Illyn is a gambler, and slowly she’s learning who she can tease and push and who she can’t; she’s guessing which buttons will incite a reaction and which won’t. She likes to cause as much trouble as she can without being called out for it, and she isn’t afraid to take charge. Blunt and forward, Illyn will tell any cat exactly what their problem is and how quickly they need to distance themselves from her. She has a knack for exerting enough willpower and insults to level the playing field and convince weaker cats that she is their superior, that her ideas are more intelligent than theirs, and she is not often wrong. Illyn has a sharp mind for politics despite her lack of interest, and prefers to focus on dancing the lines of offense as often as she can. Short and compact with medium-length muddy fur and dark stripes like splattered clay, her fur is made for camouflage if it wasn’t always so tousled. Her mother was infamous for her tidy beauty before she passed, and in defiance to her image Illyn’s fur is a tangle of broken stripes and dirty smears. Her fur is always scuffed and dusted, her brows thick and wild over narrow brown eyes that dance with defiance, her muzzle curbed and blunted. With her wide cheeks, thick whiskers and torn ears, Illyn isn’t typically beautiful, but she holds a rugged charm and takes pride in her uncouth appearance. </p></font><br>
<font size="4" color="#F5DFC1"><b>CLEMENTINE-TYKE }} turtlenoir </b></font><br> <font size="2" color="#F5DFC1"><p>The Philosopher, drawn to abstracts and the unknown. The youngest of the litter, who can be found always observing others, especially twolegs and kittypets. The orange feline with thin, creeping lines of white that wrap up her legs like spiderwebs and dreamy opalescent eyes, is always lost in her own mind, and can be found often writing and drawing on walls of the tunnels in an attempt to emulate and understand the twoleg language. She's a very spiritual and calm feline, and will always offer a listening ear to anyone who wishes for it, and is most drawn to the eccentric Bian Ayzaria. Makes her own perfumes from herbs and fruits when she can't find a relative to steal her some from twolegplace. Prefers citrusy scents.</p></font><br>
What age is this cat now??
<font size="4" color="#F5DFC1"><b> KERS }} turtlenoir </b></font><br> <font size="2" color="#F5DFC1"><p>Average sized silver she-cat with ink black tabby swirls. Her eyes are a rich aquamarine color. Magnificent with herbs, her memory is beyond compare, and she can recite off any herb or growing technique needed in an instant. Constantly, she gets told that she could be Chaman one day, that she has so much potential, but not all potential is ever realized. Painfully incapable of remembering a face, she's learned to recognize others by voice and scent rather than appearance, and she can't understand how someone can know a person just by seeing them. But that's fine, she's always on the go anyway, chewing on something or other and headed this way and that for her job. Or at least, she thinks so. Half the orders and praise she gets are simply the voices in her mind, and the Regime is forced to watch as a cat with so much potential slowly breaks with reality, and there's only so much they can do to stop it if she won't realize there's even a problem.</p></font><br>
<font size="4" color="#F5DFC1"><b>PSYCHE }} AtomHeart </b></font><br> <font size="2" color="#F5DFC1"><p> A ghostly presence with a voice that lulls one into submission. Psyche always seems to be moving in and out of frame, never quite clear enough to get a good look at her. A bit of an enigma to those outside her family and even her family is not always seeing the true Psyche. She is a mad scientist mixed with a gifted orator, not only able to put her plans into action but get others behind her ideas as well. It helps that she is a stunning she-cat with unmistakably good looks. Her silky coat is pure white even in the dirt filled tunnels, with longer fur in just the right places to give her a feminine appearance. Her eyes are truly something different though, they are those of an albino with the red pupils. In lower light they look violet. In daylight they are a stunning crystalline blue, as pale as a clear sky. Psyche simply cannot be confused with any other cat and it would do one well to not make mistakes. She was born outside the Regime though she grew up mostly inside of it. She and her three other litter mates, Zo, Alese, and Kaci, basically raised their younger siblings, Nuelle, Elvira, Breya after their parents died. Psyche is perhaps the most level headed of her siblings, the least likely to rush into anything or act impulsively. Yet she is also the last that one would turn to in search of emotional support, though she is great at getting her siblings out of trouble. Psyche keeps her own hopes and dreams close to her chest, she does not even tell her litter mates of her goals. This tricky albino has big ambitions hidden deep inside and only time will tell where she ends up. </p></font><br> Guider
<font size="4" color="#F5DFC1"><b>TREVET }} AtomHeart </b></font><br> <font size="2" color="#F5DFC1"><p>One of the four offspring of Damaris, a descendant of the Blind Protector, or so the family likes to claim. Regardless of origin they have been part of the Regime for many generations, possibly back to the start of the Regime. Because of this the Damaris family as they call themselves can be blood purists, though Trevet himself is not one of them. Trevet is perhaps the black sheep of the family, not that against welcoming new blood into the family or working himself to the bone for prestige. It’s not that he doesn’t care, he just never had the desire to be put in a true leadership position. It frankly seems like too much work, of course that doesn’t stop him from judging others who lead the Regime. Trevet led the life he was destined to have, a long and productive career as a raiser. He likes to claim he had a paw in raising every cat that now lives in the Regime, never mind that some of the Regime grew up elsewhere. So he likes to think of himself as knowledgeable in the facts of life. If one is lucky to be in his good graces he can be a fountain of wisdom. Otherwise he is just a stubborn old fool who still lives in the past sometimes. Though he is no longer as sleek and muscular as he once was he is still a sight to behold. His coat is somewhere in the medium length category and silvery white. Darker patches coat his face and legs. Black mackerel stripes wrap around his frame, leaving his chest relatively plain. His plume like tail is darker than the rest of his body, with the gauge hint of raccoon like rings. His once vibrant yellow eyes have faded slightly to match the greeting on his muzzle. Yet his tongue is still sharp and Trevet won’t let anyone forget that. </p></font><br> Veteran
<font size="4" color="#F5DFC1"><b>ADNET }} AtomHeart </b></font><br> <font size="2" color="#F5DFC1"><p>He looks positively ancient, a short, somewhat stocky looking body with wild fur and gnarled whiskers. His long fur is nearly all black with white tuxedo markings. Though his white markings are uneven on his front legs with his left leg only have white on the paw while the right goes up to his elbow. The white goes up to his muzzle stopping just under his nose white a splash of black drips down his chin. It looked like a mustache or perhaps a goatee of sorts, depending on how you look at it. Regardless it gives him a dignified air. His flat face is offset by large coppery orange eyes that don’t miss a single thing. Adnet was born outside the Regime to abandoned kittypets, he is a full blooded Persian after all. Yet he joined when he was cadet age, not wanting to live the life of desperation anymore. It was then that he realized he had a knack for healing and helping others. He resigned himself to being devoted to only the Regime, not having caught the eye of any other cat. Yet fate would have that he did one day find a beautiful she-cat and they quickly became besotted with each other. Eventually they found themselves expecting, though there were concerns since both of them were close to retirement. His mate and mother of his children died bringing them into the world. Adnet was left with a daughter, Bifrost, and a son, Dagan, to raise alone. He relied heavily on the raisers not knowing how to raise kits himself. It was then that he came into contact with Trevet, a raiser who himself was soon to retire. The two slowly became enamoured with each other and became mates to the horror of Trevet’s family. Adnet is not discouraged though as he still tries to have got relations with his new extended family. He is a kind and gentle cat who likes to help those around him. There is a fiercely protective streak though for his children and his mate, that can border on annoying or stifling at times. Regardless Adnet was a valued member of the Regime while he was working and now he is an esteemed veteran who has boundless knowledge to share. </p></font><br> Veteran
<font size="4" color="#F5DFC1"><b>AXIOM }} Jadie </b></font><br> <font size="2" color="#F5DFC1"><p> A shorthair black smoke tabby tom with frosty blue eyes. While most of Axiom’s fur is a stormy black, he has a few white patches: An off-center blaze, a splash on his chest and even a few of his toes, all snowy white. He doesn’t have a lot of meat on his bones but still manages to be incredibly cute, what with his boxy face and large, striking eyes. Axiom’s unique looks are thanks to his rare bloodline: His family - the Starkfields - are among the few remaining descendants of Avalon Everlasting, Renegade Regime’s sister group that has been lost to the ages. The unofficial historian of the family, Axiom tries to learn all he can from his mother and Renegade veterans of his bloodline’s history, all the way back to the founding of the two groups if he can. However, he is also deeply interested in other groups’ histories and lore, often disappearing for long spans of time to expand his knowledge base. Axiom loves to tell the stories he’s learned, both fairytales and histories, and finds it a thrill to see the excitement on his audience's faces. He gets really into it and is actually an amazing actor, so much so that most kits in the Regime tend to crowd around him whenever he is near, begging for a performance that he is always keen to give.</p></font><br> Guider
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POSTEDDec 7, 2020 19:47:32 GMT -5 TO renegade regime
<font size="4" color="#F5DFC1"><b>ANANASSA STARKFIELD }} AtomHeart </b></font><br> <font size="2" color="#F5DFC1"><p>The last remaining piece of an empire, Ananassa is perhaps the only living cat left from Avalon Everlasting. She was born to the last president Cyto Starkfield and an anonymous mother who deserted her. The leaves her carrying on a powerful bloodline, that of Abana and Tarak. The founder of Avalon Everlasting and her brother the first leader of Renegade Regime and the blind protector. Avalon was in its final days when she grew up there, believing in the democratic ideals that were the cornerstone of the group. Yet when Avalon crumbled and merged for a short period with Renegade Regime to form the Republic, she deserted the group. It was no longer what she had hoped for, it became a controlling upper class that lorded over the Regime cats. Ananassa set off to either regroup other AE cats or create her own group, she was not quite sure. Of course she was young and barely able to survive herself. So she spent several years with different loner and rogue groups. Most ended in failure, leaving her to find others. Eventually she found a mate, Larken, and had a single kit, Zenia. From there her life finally turned in the right direction. She had another litter and finally had grandkits. Unfortunately her eldest daughter died giving birth. That left her with the devastating choice to find help to keep the kits alive. So she made her way to the only group she knew that still existed. Now she moves around the tunnels, a ghost of a long past group and yet holding stronger ties to the Regime than perhaps anyone else. Her coat is a trademark of Starkfield members, black and white. Her long fur is smoke black with faint tabby stripes. White masks her face and neck with matching white hind paws. Pale icy blue eyes seem almost haunting when paired with her soft, melodic voice. She is a powerful force to be reckoned with sharp tongue and a love for a good fight. </p></font><br> mercenary
<font size="4" color="#F5DFC1"><b>SYMPHOROSA }} AtomHeart </b></font><br> <font size="2" color="#F5DFC1"><p>A stunning she-cat with ghostly black smoke tabby fur. Her long coat is a soft grey with black tabby stripes and dark limbs. Her black face has a crooked blaze that slips down to her chest. Her eyes are a vivid sapphire blue with faint silver specks. She has one white paw on her front right leg. Overall she is clearly a Starkfield with her black and white coat with blue eyes. She was born to Ananassa, one of the last cats born in Avalon Everlasting and the daughter of the last president. Symphorosa was born long after the end of AE and grew up in various loner groups with her mother. She learned all her history from her mother and now has fantastical ideas about leaving as equals with a leader who is voted into place, not chosen. Yet she followed her mother to Renegade Regime after the death of her older sister during the birth of her kits. Now living amongst a group with different ideas, she has learned to adapt. In those chances she has allowed herself to express herself and indulge in her own desires. No longer does she have to contain herself for the better of others. Though she has thrown herself into her new job with merciless dedication, often working herself to the bone. At the same time she has her indulgences that now with others around her to pick up the slack she is able to enjoy fully. Symphorosa has her mother’s sharp tongue and a love for a good argument, though she won’t avoid a fight if the need calls for it. </p></font><br> scout
Post by Flurryofstars on Dec 7, 2020 23:23:00 GMT -5
<font size="4" color="#F5DFC1"><b>CADET NUELLE }} Flurryofstars </b></font><br> <font size="2" color="#F5DFC1"><p>A white tom with chocolate splatters down his back and large, pale blue eyes. Born a member of the Soulaine family, Nuelle was raised from a young age to dislike those of the Hearte, Damaris, and Eerie bloodlines, as well as Shule and Sean. While he has always shared his family’s view that the Regime runs on nepotism, he’s also equally disturbed by the Soulaine’s hypocrisy on the matter and makes a point of treating his relatives the same as he would any other cat. Despite being raised by his older siblings, Nuelle has always felt distant from them, and the competitiveness forced upon him by his littermates has made it all the easier to feel emotionally uninvolved with the whole lot. Perhaps this is just how he is with everyone. Long and lean, Nuelle has the practical body of a scout and uses it to his advantage. Although, he’s been known to hoard most of his prey for himself as he is almost always hungry. Regardless of his gluttony, the tom never seems to gain any weight; however, he does try to limit himself on occasion. To stave off the cravings, Nuelle chews on the stems of flowers and blades of grass to the point where there’s always something in his mouth. This quirk paired with his social awkwardness, bluntness, and indifference makes him somewhat difficult to befriend. He’s extremely loyal to the friends he does gain though. Nuelle, like his family, is very intellectual and inquisitive. He’s also very organized and good at planning ahead, but fickle, which ends with his plans changing often or even last minute. </p></font><br> Scout Cadet
<font size="4" color="#F5DFC1"><b>WY }} Cleaver </b></font><br> <font size="2" color="#F5DFC1"><p>It took Wy a long time to find his place in life. He knew from the start he wanted to be an inventor: he always had a keen eye like his older sister Thunderstorm, and a sharp mind to go with it. His mind wasn't centered around memorization, but exploration: he comes up with creative solutions to problems and can rotate and bend his mental images to perform complex calculations he isn't distinctly aware of. When he looks at a rock, he tilts his head back and forth to gauge the height and analyze the composition before he jumps: is it a loose, sandy cliff that will crumble away beneath his paws, or is it solid stone that will hold his weight but offend his claws when they strike against it? He isn't consciously aware of the choices he's making, not after following his instincts for so long, and he's learned to follow his compulsions wherever they may lead. Occasionally, that's straight into trouble. When his brother was chosen as the inept, uncaring deputy, he wanted to support Chim, but he felt his family was just enabling his poor behavior. When the leader's mate came along, asking for support and gently suggesting they replace their deputy, Wyverndelirium thought he was making the right choice in joining with it. It led to a brief stint of deputyship for Wy… that ended in tragedy when he realized too late that he couldn't circumvent his new leader's evil, and was just falling down with him. After that mistake, he was lost, and he never really found himself again until he visited the Regime and found an old rogue friend, Undertow, had adapted to a new life there. After a near-death experience he made the brave choice to leave home once again and try again to find himself. Wy is an inventor that doesn't believe in the permanence of the world around him: it's made to be sculpted by his paws into something new and unique, just as they all leave their marks on the world, subtle as they may be. Even his mistakes eventually pay off, for him or for his family. When he was younger, watching his family fall in love, he often wondered if it would ever happen to him; he was intrigued by the idea, though he didn't feel necessarily compelled to follow it through. Wy didn't have time for romance, and other than a brief fling across borders with a friend, he hasn't found anyone to settle with. He isn't as handsome as his family - not sharp and watchful and dangerous like Chim, not sleek and rougish like Landon, not lithe and graceful like Swangrace - and once he thought that might be the reason for his failing love life, but he wonders if that isn't too conceited on his part. Surely some cats are capable of looking past his imperfections? Rounded and scruffy with golden-brown fur and pale green eyes, Wy is of average height with a medium-length coat that was once sleek from his fish diet. Now it's free and fuzzy, obscuring some of the unseemly scars under his fur. The deep bite marks on his throat aren't as easily hidden, the fur is bleached and stiff and the short hairs bend away form the marks like they're toxic, but he survived the wound and he isn't ashamed of it. Nor is he ashamed of the faint hazy covering over his left eye; his eye had always been faded and unfocused, and if affects his eyesight, he's never known any differently to realize it. There's a quiet, simple charm to his unassuming appearance, and perhaps if he put his mind to it, he could find someone else to love. He's still calculating if a mate is worth the investment. </p></font><br>
rank: guider
<font size="4" color="#F5DFC1"><b>ISADOR-TYKE }} Cleaver </b></font><br> <font size="2" color="#F5DFC1"><p>Unassuming at first glance, the only part of his midnight-and-white coat that sticks out is his brilliant blue gaze, haint at the edges creeping in toward cerulean. His fur is long, not quite long enough to hide his sensational fleshy shape, though he carries the extra weight with a distinguished pride. You won't catch Isador taking extra prey - he sneaks it in the middle of the night, ashamed of his natural hunger and instincts. Many cats take one look at him and see he's only the assistant to the crimes of his more outspoken siblings, but Isador is more than capable of executing his own schedules, he just needs more time to do it. He's a quiet strategist and he takes note of other cats' strengths to take advantage of. Need an escape from the tunnel you're blocked within? Isador probably found the secret exit a few moons ago and wandered the full length of the auxiliary tunnels. Wondering who should accompany you on your hunting trip? Isador raised half of the clan - he knows which cats are best at stepping softly upon the snow. He's a planner first and foremost, and he prefers to supply details to everyone else's schemes instead of coming up with his own. His family can be the creative types, he'll just make them practical. Indeed, his planning makes him an excellent strategist and leader, though he would deny it endlessly. Polite and clipped, there's a strange distance to Isador, like there's always something else on his mind, something on the tip of his tongue he's tempted to say before he changes his mind. He doesn't like to share his feelings or take any of the attention onto himself. He denies vehemently his own important or usefulness if it means avoiding a crowd. Too much pressure, too many sets of eyes on him, and he cracks. As much as he hates being in the forefront, he isn't a bad leader at all: his caring, observant nature makes him a compelling and charismatic leader, if only he knew how to voice his thoughts sooner instead of mulling over his exact phrasing and searching for the right vocal beats to influence his listener. He isn't intentionally manipulative, just using the tricks he's picked up from others, but sometimes the line blurs. That's why he needs his family to keep him straight and protect him from cats that might put his abilities toward harming his group instead of teaching them all how to be safe. His grandmother is Ananassa Starkfield, related to the founders of Avalon Everlasting (Abana and Tarak) through Ctyo Starkfield. His littermates are Nerissa, Leland, and Vaska. </p></font><br>
