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.
She loves the feeling of being loves, adores being the center of attention, whether she's humiliating herself or not, because it means she's worthy, she's not being ignored, that in the moment, she wouldn't be left behind. She will perform if her audience will laugh, she will continue to sing and dance even if they are throwing rotting food her way, she will play games with people's hearts because she knows she can win them and because she knows she can quit the game any time she wants. A petite white she-cat, her fur not very fit for a Nightclan cat, but she hardly considers herself one anyway — her kithood was unfortunate, discovered at a young age and taken in after her mother was mauled by a fox. She never felt like she properly fit in, but has tried to force herself since she was a kit, gathering all the information she can and compiling lists of every cat in the clan, their weaknesses, their strengths, their love lives and their problems. A social butterfly, but often her eagerness can be off-putting. It's obsessive, just as she is with everything because she is terrified of losing it. She wears a faux heart on her sleeve and keeps her real one close to her chest, she uses sweet words to keep those she cares about close, to love them a little longer before she moves on. In reality, Oleandercurse is terrified of herself, and even more scared of others finding out why. She knows how shallow she is, knows she isn't kind or gentle, that she only uses people to fill the void in herself, and she is scared that one day she will snap, that she will do something that is irreversible, that she'll do so much damage that she can't ever be loved again. So, she clings onto those she loves, and while she doesn't particularly come off as very kind — more often abrasive and confident — she has a strange system of working to make others happy and then twisting it into her favour, taking it from them and giving it to herself, so that everyone she loves is left with a little piece of them missing.
BADGERKIT (trickery) roleplayed by Honeystorm A black and white tom with green eyes and fur that sticks out at odd angles | a chef. a michelin-starred chef. my god, this young man loves cooking. the nursery is constantly sizzling with delicious smells — or, well, it is in his mind. in reality he’s just sitting in a corner mixing mud and leaves together in a bowl. but ONE DAY, he will be a chef. right now he’s just the menace of the nursery because he’s always pestering the other kits - and the mothers - to taste his horrible food. he cooks when there’s drama; he bakes when he’s scared or stressed; he makes mud cookies for story nights and mud soufflé for clan meetings and passes them around among the warriors. if he has a tight deadline for an order, he’ll often be found in a corner somewhere, frantically mixing batter and sweating. sometimes the medicine den is suddenly missing herbs like rosemary, which would be perfect for garnishing dishes with. he has no idea who took it, though. he has a terror that restaurant critics are going to arrive unannounced and so he thinks every visitor to camp is one. his first question almost every morning, with his fur all mussed up and his eyes still full of sleep, is a panicked, breathless, ‘has the critic arrived yet?’ it’s a perfectly reasonable question to him but no one else has any goddamn idea what he’s talking about. one day, though. one day the critic will arrive.
Leveretkit (SHIMMY) roleplayed by fox A sweet, soft-spoken trans tom with short grey fur, a white underbelly, white forepaws, and milky blue eyes. He’s always happiest when he’s in the wings of life — the sous chef to Badgerkit’s culinary confidence, the nervous wingman, the dresser getting the main actors ready sidestage before they head out to take the spotlight, never expecting a thank you or an acknowledgement, always happy to just smile shyly in the dark and watch them perform. Privately, he has a stash of twoleg comic books that he keeps in a cave by the waterfall; he can’t read them, he just likes to look at the pictures, and he’s a bit of a kleptomaniac. His claws are all but non-existent from an accident involving being raised by a family of sparrows for a week and also from chewing them to the quick; they look more like blunt dog claws than cat ones. That said, he’s surprisingly popular, both for his quiet, side-stage support of others that never craves the spotlight for himself, and his tendency to murmur jarringly witty comments in that tender voice of his. He knows precisely who he is and it’s perhaps this self-assurance, however soft-spoken, that others find attractive.
adding myself because i’m a literate queen booyah baby you know he was backstage crew in high school when everyone else wanted the lead roles
maybe i’ll delete him in a week if i don’t like him but i also said that about kier and look where we are, in hell, fighting for our lives in the trenches
roleplayed by cheetah Fallinghorn is a pitch black short-haired she-cat with forest green eyes. She is known for her strength, her aggressive mannerism and ways of getting things done. The sacrifices she makes for her Clan's wellbeing and her noble always being courage and honesty, even if someone didn't or wasn't with her. She is a believer of the Dark Forest and their ways, to an extant. She doesn't believe in murdering someone to make a point or even using her claws. She will only use her claws if she has too, she is a talk before striking kind of cat. Though when she does fight, she gives the other cat or animal something to think about.
Fallinghorn was born on December, 30, 2021, in NightClan to Two NightClan Warriors named, Eveningshine; her mother and her Father, Fallenforest. Both parents spent most other time out of the camp hunting and fighting. Neither of them really cared about her, nor wanted her. She was raised mainly by the other queens, who took pity on her.
Fallinghorn grew into an apprentice and later on a warrior, that her Clan and home could depend on. She likes to hunt and eat squirrels, mice and frogs, as they are the most challenging to get, which makes it a challenge for her. If she catches, everyone is able to eat it. She hates fish and snakes as she can never really catch one and doesn't like the smell or taste of them. Fallinghorn likes to wear flower crowns because it makes her feel like a queen.
Fallinghorn hopes to have a family someday and to become the best warrior that she can become for her Clan. She is willing to accept any high ranking position if she is asked to, else she is just content at being a warrior.
SITH roleplayed by Stark Raving Mad A medium furred, white tom with red ears. A cat of few words and stoic in nature, he tends to carry a neutral aura about him. Not many things catch his interest, and he doesn't go out of his way to befriend or do nice things for others. Honestly if it weren't for his unusual appearance he would likely fade into the backdrop. Unfortunately he stands out, and not in the best way. Hard to overlook and unforgettable. Sith has always hated this about himself, and hates being the center of attention. Due to this he doesn't fit a leadership type, though when he has one he is very goal oriented and will do whatever it takes to succeed. He prides himself on his keen senses and sharp claws, both of which make him an exceptional tracker. Fueled by fear quite literally, he lives for the thrill of the chase. Once he smells fear he can't help himself, he becomes insatiable and will say and do anything to keep the terror flowing. Warrior?
BLACKKIT (frost) roleplayed by cheetah A cat who is cold and calculating, very logical, Blackfrost is someone who would not steer clear of a battle. A tom who is ready to fight for his clan no matter what. Blackfrost is a logical thinker, even in battle. He would never kill a cat on purpose unless it is for self-defense, and he had no choice. Instead, he would find other ways of harming a cat to try and get some sense into their fox-brained heads. He may seem like a cold cat to others outside his Clan but inside, that is a different story.
Blackfrost is a lover, a leader, and someone to rely on for any problems that lay inside his home. He volunteers to lead patrols, hunts, battles, and training new warriors. His love for his clan has no bounds. He would die for his Clan if he has to.
Blackfrost was born in December 2021 in NightClan to two NightClan cats who were found outside camp mutated and dead. The scent of rogue cats was all over the place. One of the rogues was found nearby dead, giving the Clan the evidence of the slaughter. His parents, Gloomyheart (His Mother) and Charredface (His Father) were buried with honors, and he was raised by the rest of the Queens of the Clan.
Blackfrost hopes to have a mate and kits someday and to maybe adopt kits that need a Father as well as maybe become the next leader of the Clan, through hard work and dedication. For now, he is just enjoying his life as a kit and then onto becoming an apprentice then a warrior, which he hopes that his parents and family would be proud of.
Blackfrost is a medium-sized tom with icy blue eyes. His fur is short and sleek to the touch. As a kit he was skinny and ate only a bit of food, wanting to remain sleek and slender. To this day, he remains this way, only eating until he is full and never eating until all the Clan has been fed first. He follows the Warrior Code and never seems to stray from it. Believing that the Code is a guideline for how he should act and what he should do and should never do. He believes that the Warrior Code should never be challenged. This makes him a great warrior and a true Cat that StarClan can trust and honor. A Clan-cat that will follow the ways of the Ancient Clan Cats until he dies.
STRANGEMATTER Roleplayed by Stark Raving Mad They say the most dangerous substance in the universe comes from the heart of a neutron star. Ordinary matter, in its base form, is created by quarks, but in the collapsed core of a supergiant star, there exists a higher form of matter, more stable than our own, and under the pressure of colliding celestial bodies, strangelets can escape and being the ideal state of matter. The problem with that is once it's out, it may convert everything else into strange matter of its own, only ever being stopped by the crushing pressure of a black hole. In a way, Strangematter differs from his namesake. He's not particularly stronger, or heavier than most other cats; his paws are large and his square set form seem don't exactly lend itself to brute strength as much as it leads to clumsiness, his curious hazel eyes wide and full of light don't seem like much of a threat. His short russet fur doesn't puff out into a large form either; there's not much that's intimidating about this cat at all. However, like strange matter, he can be extremely convincing. Emotional stability is his middle name; he's always the calm face of reason, the one who gives orders with such confidence that he seems in charge even when he isn't. They say that when strange matter comes into contact with something, it can only convert everything to what it is, and in a way, Strangematter embodies that. He's idealistic and sees the world in black and white; there's only his way and he'll do anything to prove how right he is, but he understands the power of being liked, and the power of showing over telling. He values looking at a bigger picture and keeping things in the right place; he sees himself as the dark matter that holds together galaxies. Warrior
He exists as the night, as everything that is dark and secretive and lost is him. One should not trust his kind features so quickly. A trans tom; his pelt is a soft white, though the bright orange can be distracting. Sparse patches along his body, but the vibrant hues that splash across his eyes, ears, and muzzle give him a masked look. The colours are dark and blazing like fire, his eyes are a light olive green, and his fur is soft yet messy, knotted, like he doesn’t have enough time to clean it. As a kit, he had wandered too far one day, and waited too long until his family had gone on without him on their constant stream of travels, their never ending movement. His old name, Amos, was one he chose when his old one no longer fit, but it unused, though not forgotten. He tried to keep his sister's face secure in his memory, because he had convinced himself they would meet again one day. Under the safeness of dusk, he built himself along his solitary travels, measured and constructed every vital part, every minor thing, until he was something that could survive. When his kitten fluff soon wore off and he was unable to get most of the commons to pity him, he learned to be useful, to do anything and do it well because it kept him around long enough to get their scraps. A jack of all trades, there doesn’t seem to be a single task he can’t complete. There’s a hint of charm, hidden amongst friendly faces and sarcastic quips, but who knows if it is just another mask. He has a collection, each porcelain thing chosen precisely based on whoever he’s talking to. He had no need to stand out in a crowd, it would get him nowhere, and so he learned to blend in, hid himself among them. And, like how a moth is drawn to the light of a torch despite how it will burn him, he’s always liked the excitement, the danger, the things he could do when he cut fear from his life. Though he moves with purpose, he enjoys the whimsical feeling of a simple existence — enjoys making others laugh, because their joy is so infectious that he feels it too, and watching the clouds, and chasing fireflies. He appears as two halves of a whole that haven't quite come together yet. There is something young about him, and perhaps it’s his hidden playfulness, or the way he gets irritable and temperamental, or his small collection of trinkets he’s taken “for the road,” and yet at the same time there is something aged and ancient and wise, calculating, rough, weathered. He is a kind soul if it can get him by, and a cruel one if it will do the same.
A pale unblemished creature, with a heart-shaped face slashed by a canopy of black lashes, she gives the impression of danger shrouded in its most seductive form. Her frame is supple but muscular, a curvaceous shape that evokes walking steel, or paradoxically, the delicate material of a ghost woken from its slumber. Her speech is measured and precise, with a lilt that suggests intelligence, completely at odds with a brutality that she so rarely shows; perhaps that’s what’s most dangerous about her. Her honeyed heart is tempered by a wolfish waggishness enunciated by the curves under the silk of her coat. The shocking hue of her bright sapphire eyes speak of the life and the luster that fills her soul. But be warned: as a spider, draped in silk, she spins her sweet deception.
The hardest battles are the ones you fight with yourself. What use if your pride when it only ever gets you hurt, why not surrender it for the betterment of your own existence. What use is your own throne of self-confidence if it only brings you misery. It's a pitiful mindset in her eyes but one she has taken up. Leaving behind that throne, that crown that held her head high in the face of dispute and firm in her morals and opinions. Now she is a puppet that speaks for others benefit, carved out by her own loss and anguish. Left to be filled by others rhetoric, their desires strengthening her spine and keeping her standing. A lean black she-cat with pale sea-green eyes she fits right into Nightclan even if as time passes she feels more and more of a sham. The loss of her first love and then the birth of her stillborn twins ruined her. Having to bargain, in the end beg, for Kier to let her leave the torture of the nursery and join the warriors once more broke those ruins to pieces and left her crumbled to dust. Nothing better than a puppet at times she wonders at times why she bothers. Tigerlily used to be a credit to her name and now she is nothing more than an embarrassment.
EVENTHORIZON roleplayed by ian At the center of a black hole exists a point where the escape velocity is faster than the speed of light. In layman's terms, it's the horizon beyond which one cannot sea. Within it, you can find the singularity, a point so dense that the laws of physics breaks down. In other words, to truly embrace the impossible, one must go past the point of no return. Eventhorizon's fur is as dark as the black hole in which she was named after, her eyes silvery white like the light that orbits it. One often sees a black hole as a mystery, as the violence that the universe is based on, yet it exists at the center of galaxies, the largest formed by quasars we didn't know once existed. She's mysterious, the kind of cat who observes first and acts later, but she has that gravitational pull, her mystery doesn't result in aloofness; rather, she's kind when it matters. She's empathetic to others' struggles and their problems, the kind of cat who listens and tries to give advice, but she's also a cat who rarely lets others sway her decisions. Stubborn to a fault, it's others that get eaten up by her gravity, not the other way around. She understands the value of her choices, and understands that in some cases, sacrifices must be made. Her moral backbone–however different it may be to what's right–hardens in the face of adversity, and at the end of the day, she's willing to go past the point of no return and bend the laws of physics to do what needs to be done.
MIDNIGHTGARDEN roleplayed by Klee Midnightgarden is a white and brown she-cat with glowing blue eyes. Midnightgarden is standoffish and clumsy. She has difficulty with keeping a conversation going and is often awkward when trying to make new friends. This makes it difficult for others to warm up to Midnightgarden and as a result Midnightgarden is often found on her own. Although Midnightgarden tries to appear as put together as possible, she is actually riddled with anxiety and depression. She struggles with her self-confidence and is very critical of any mistakes that she makes. Anything less than perfect is unacceptable to Midnightgarden. She grew up as a rogue in the city along with her mother and five younger siblings. Her mother had a difficult pregnancy that resulted in Midnightgarden and her sister being the only kits not born a stillborn. Her mother was heartbroken over the stillborn kits, but was determined to take care of her remaining two. At first Midnightgarden had an easy upbringing where she was constantly doted on and taken care of. She had a close relationship with her mother and often confided in her mother when she first started experiencing severe anxiety. Midnightgarden loved her sister unconditionally, even though they butted heads often, and the two of them would regularly explore the city when their mother would go to complete her daily duties. It was during one of these outings that Midnightgarden and her sister carelessly decided to race to the top of a two-leg structure. As the duo hopped from one metal beam to the next rain began to pour and caused her sister to slip on one of the metal railings. Midnightgarden watched in horror as her sister plummeted to her death. After this tragic accident her mother became more critical and demanding of Midnightgarden. She was to hunt for their food, find material to make their nests, and patrol the surrounding area of their home to ensure no other rogues tried to take what was theirs. Midnightgarden's mother wanted her to become stronger and learn to take care of herself, fearing that if she wasn't harsh and critical of Midnightgarden's mistakes then she could have a tragic end like her sister. Meanwhile, Midnightgarden's mother would be gone for hours or sometimes even days at a time with little explanation of what she had been doing. During one of these trips Midnightgarden's mother returned home pregnant and a few moons later Midnightgarden became the older sister to five siblings. After the birth of her mother's second litter Midnightgarden became the main caretaker of her brothers and sisters while her mother continued her mysterious journeys. She would hunt for them, clean their fur, ensure they had a warm place to sleep, and protect them from dangerous predators. All while her mom continued her harsh criticism and critiques for various mistakes she might have made along the way. As the kits became older Midnightgarden felt her mental health steadily decline before she eventually cracked under the pressure placed on her by her family. Eventually believing her family would be better without a screw-up, Midnightgarden left for her own journey for a few days, where she traveled the farthest reaches of the city to clear her mind and spirit. When returning Midnightgarden discovered her home in shambles and one of her siblings brutally murdered by a local group of rogues who had wanting their territory in the city for awhile. This leads to Midnightgarden running away entirely before her mom can return to punish her. As she wandered the unfamiliar territories filled with trees and snow, she eventually falls into a cenote and so begins her next adventure. warrior
TENDERWRATH roleplayed by Klee Tenderwrath is a orange and gray calico Scottish Fold tom that has short stubby legs with a body that ripples with muscles. Tenderwrath doesn't have the appearance of a threatening tom with anger issues. Instead he appears to be an innocent teddy bear like tom with wide piercing golden eyes and folded ears that press against his skull. Looks can be deceiving though. Underneath the wholesome appearance is a tom who has trust issues and struggles with outbursts of anger. Anyone who mistakenly triggers Tenderwrath could be met with an intense show of rage and an golden gaze that seems to boil straight through your skin. Once the anger subsides Tenderwrath becomes more gentle and vulnerable. Often following his meltdown with a huffed apology and clear signs of embarrassment. It is clear to most that he doesn't like to show this side of himself and is mostly an unconscious effort to protect himself. Not many people know about Tenderwrath's background, but he grew up in the city as a loner and used to be a part of a gang of rogues before eventually being caste out for unknown reasons. Tenderwrath doesn't like to talk about his past and usually becomes easily triggered when the topic is brought up. One of Tenderwrath's favorite hobbies is stargazing and wishing upon passing comets. This hobby is what led Tenderwrath to wanting to join Nightclan so that he can participate in his hobby on a more regular basis. Warrior
