Post by Slug on Aug 2, 2009 15:06:50 GMT -5
Stonetail~
Name;; Stonekit, Stonepaw, Stonetail
Gender;; Tom
Age;; Thirty-one moons
Rank;; Warrior
Clan;; Fog
Beliefs;;
Stonetail believes that Starclan exists, but that doesn't mean he has to like it. He thinks-- no, knows-- that Starclan has power. It's just they don't do anything with it! They could be saving kits, stopping disasters, the whole sha-bang. But what do they do? They sit on their hides on send them dreams? Could things get any worse?
Parents;; Mother: Francissca (kittypet, deceased) x Father: Stone (rogue, condition unknown) [NP] Adopted Mother: Whiteheart (FogClan Elder) [NP] x Adopted Father: Stormfang (FogClan Elder) [NP]
Siblings;; Adopted Older Brother: Dovefur (FogClan Warrior) [PC] and Adopted Younger Brother: Sandfang (FogClan Warrior) [NP]
Other Kin;; None.
Mate;; Not yet.
Crush;; Not yet.
Kits;; Not yet.
Apprentice/Mentor;; Not yet.
Appearance;;
Stonetail intimidates many with his glaring orange eyes of his; if you actually took the time to look, you'll notice the closer it is to Stonetail's pupils, the more reddish it becomes and on the outside of his eyes, black circles lay. It gives him a slight raccoon look about him, but it seems to only add on to the intimidation.
His fur is short, but thick, and surprisingly plush. It gives him much grief, though, when it comes to sharing tongues; the queens seem to have an issues with personal space at that time... but he allows them to lick his fur and their kits to play with his tail. Afterall, they are the ones who cared for him as a kit, even if he hadn't been clanborn. That's something Stonetail will always respect; thank his lucky crickets for Maternal Instincts.
Stonetail's pelt itself is a light gray-- so light, it's almost white; in the right light, it's silver, or as I like to call "newly washed steel". It covers his thick, muscled body. Long limbs hold this tom up, and enjoys to show off his well balanced, silent strides. Broad shoulders, jutting hips, and a long tail. This tom was graced with looks by Starclan.
Oh, the irony...
Personality;;
Stonetail is the type of tom you want to avoid. Easily angered and easily just as rude, you'd think someone just killed his mother.
Well, actually... nevermind. A story for later.
As I said before, Stonetail is rude. But that would be an understatement, so let me do the remix for you.
Stonetail is a bit of a brute. He has an indifferent attitude toward those who are weaker than him, and believe that if they can't pull their own weight, then leave them behind. He's completely unsympathetic toward apprentices, even though he use to be one himself. "Young, foolish; there is no room for mistakes in this world. It's do or die-- remember that." Too many mistakes have already happened in Stonetail's life. He doesn't need anymore fox-dung to deal with. He's become OCD ever since finding out his mother's murder-- one of the biggest mistakes in his life. He's become... slightly depressed. Almost devoid of emotions, he has to act the part. It brings him much stress to be who he is now, though it will be all worth it in the end. "You have to keep moving. Like a fish. If you stop swimming, you'll sink..."
He also has one helluva temper. The simplest things will set this tom off. Not enough prey? RAAAAGE. Something out of order? RAAAAGE. Apprentices fooling around? No-- especially apprentices fooling around. It's gonna be RAAAAGE, honey! And he'll be absolutely dramatic about it. Stonetail will screech at the top of his lungs, chewing out a cat until they get the point-- and they get it. Fast. If it's to get the tom off their back, then heck yes! Stonetail throws around criticism like it's the new fashion, always pointing out what others did wrong in a shrewd manner and saying how he could have done better if he'd just done that or this.
Despite Stonetail's temper, though, he has a soft side when around queens, kits, or soon-to-be queens. He treats them like royalty, you could say, whenever he's in a good mood. He plays with kits, brings the queens prey every day, and is, well, at ease when he's around them. It doesn't exactly bring him joy, per say, but it does calm him.
Pfft. Joy? Let's not stretch it, K?
K.
Skills;;
Stonetail was born to fight. He can deal heavy blows to an enemy and knock them out, or just sit on them until they suffocate. Great, ja? Wrong. Stonetail may be strong, but he's slow and he has many weak spots. So he's not exactly perfect, but then again, who is? BUT, despite his lack of speed, he makes up for it with his surprising ability of... running away! (-brick'd-) His hunting skills are very lacking, and he can't track worth fox-dung. Nuff' said.
History
To start it off, Stonetail was born as a half rogue, half kittypet.
His mother, Francissca, was an outdoor kittypet. She was fed by Twolegs, but never went inside their nests, though she did belong to them. This would explain why she didn't carry a kittypet scent. She was usually rolling in toadstools and all sorts of herbs. She enjoys the smell of spearmint on her pelt, strong and relaxing. So it was easy to think that Francissca was a rogue or loner.
Poor Stone.
Stone, Stonetail's father, was a rogue and he despised kittypets. The reason? A couple of kittypets got too rough with his kits one day... and they ended up dying. His kittypet mate, Beetle, had left him with their kits; in the night, without turning back, Stone was in for a shock when he'd wake up. He doesn't blame himself for his kit's deaths, oh no. He blames kittypets.
Now you're wondering why I'm telling you all this. Well, read on and you'll understand soon enough.
When Francissca first met Stone, she lied her way into his heart. The lie? "Me? A kittypet? Those furbrains wouldn't know a mouse from a rabbit if it bit them! I'm a rogue, silly."
The lying continued, though Francissca and Stone got closer to eachother with each passing moon. Slowly but surely they finally became mates, but Francissca refused to tell him the truth.
Then one day...
"Stone-- stone!" Francissca called, trotting toward him.
"What? What's wrong?" Stone grumped, peaking an eye open.
"Nothing! I just wanted to tell you..." Francissca trailed off, shifting nervously.
"Tell me what?" Stone urged her, growing excited at a thought. 'It couldn't be.... but maybe...!'
"I'm going to have kits!" The little she-cat beamed at the tom, curling her tails around her paws.
Stone could only grin.
When the kits-- or should I say kit?-- came, Stone was proud as a rooster who just found the hen house.
But then things went down hill.
"Stone...?"
"Yes, love?" The large tom glanced at his exhausted mate, growing worried at Francissca's tone of voice.
'Just come out with it, Fran'' Francissca thought to herself. 'Stone will still love you. Right?'
"...I'm... not really a rogue, Stone." She started, whiskers quivering. As she saw the tom tense, she continued on.
"I'm....a kittypet." She managed, eyes downcast.
Minutes ticked by and neither of them said a word, the only sound was the mewling from a rather big, grey kitten, who was kneeding at his mother's stomach.
Then Stone finally stood up, glancing down at his kit before saying "We need to talk. Alone." He stated, glancing at the grey fluff of fur once more.
"But he can't possibly hear us, Stone! I don't want to leave him all alone." Francissca whined, eyeing her kit.
"Francissca..." The large tom warned, shoulders squaring.
"Understood." Came the meak response, and Francissca pulled herself away from her kit, standing up, shaking at her ankles.
"Behind the bushes." Was the only response the she-cat got, and she slowly slinked away to the said coordinates, Stone right on her heels.
A rather loud, surprised yowl suddenly cut through the forest's silence, and then there was nothing. The kit began wailing, then. Something was wrong, and he knew it.
A few moments later, Stone came padding out from the bushes. Alone. Smiling down at his kit, he wiped his bloodied paws on the grass and then said "We're going to a very special place, little one." And that was that, picking up his kit and padding deeper into the forest.
It wasn't a long walk. Next thing the kit knows he's be dropped onto the forest floor, who cried out.
Stone fled back to safer grounds, leaving the kit all alone.
Minutes ticked by, and then rustling was heard; a few cats came crawling out from the foliage, glancing this way and that. "I smell a rogue." Rumbled one, glaring at nothing in particular.
"I smell... is that a kit?" Another asked, squinting into the tall grass.
"...It is!" He gasped, trotting into the tall grassy area, picking up the strangely silent kit.
"Is that what I smelled?" The first cat grunted, padding toward his friend's side.
Stormfang said nothing, his mouth full of kit, though he managed to somehow grin.
"You better not be thinking what I think you're thinking, Stormfang." Sparrowheart warned, glaring at the kit in Stormfang's jaws.
Stormfang, with a gleam in his eye, merely strolled away back into the foliage, leaving his hunting buddy in the tall grasses.
"IT ISN'T EVEN YOURS, STORMFANG!" Sparrowheart squawked, but nonetheless ran after his friend.
"You just can't go picking up stray kits like that!"
But he did. Stormfang, the kit's new father, had officially adopted him on sight.
Once he got back to ForestClan camp, there had been a long debate with the leader. After discussing, it was agreed that Stormfang could take care of this kit. Giving him to his mate, Whiteheart, for feeding, Stormfang was stubborn about being the one to bring prey to his mate and visiting "his" new kit.
Growing up was not a hard task for the kit, now dubbed "Stonekit"; wants he became an apprentice, he was mentored by Stormfang's best friend, Sparrowheart.
Stonepaw, though, was in for a surprise one morning.
Going out to hunt that one morning, when Stonepaw got deep into the woods, a tom appeared before him...
Stone appeared, looking old and haggard. He first called out to Stonepaw, yelling "SON?", and Stonepaw stopped dead in his tracks. Why did this tom seem so familiar to him? And why did he call him son?
Turning around, Stonepaw soon realized, that this tom must be crazy!
"I remember... your scent from anywhere!" Stone began, stumbling forward. "The smell of mint." He sighed, sitting down.
"Just like your mother."
Stonepaw was told by his "parents" that he had been adopted. Though that may be true, they loved him either way. WAS this tom his... father? What about his mother?
"Are... are you really...?"
"Yes." Came the croak, Stone's eyes wary.
It was then they talked; talked and talked and talked. About anything, really. But it was the longest conversation Stonepaw had ever had, ranging from morning to dusk.
Then... Stone told him the truth. About his mother, everything-- it just came pouring out of the large, look-a-like of Stonepaw's, Stone's orange eyes pleading for something.
Forgiveness?
Not a chance.
Stonepaw, horrorfied at the news of his own father murdering his mother, fled. Racing back to camp, he told Stormfang everything.
It was decided that Stonepaw was never to speak to Stone again.
Stonepaw agreed.
He never saw his father again after that, but Stonepaw didn't mind. The farther away Stone was from him, the better.
Soon, Stonepaw became a warrior. Stonetail, named for his surprising, slow gracefulness.
It was then the gossip of the "journey" started, and Stonetail was eager, to say the least. If he could leave this land, the one where he was born, and to get away from his father, then heck yes!
The day arrived and Stonetail joined the group who were going to take the great Journey. He'd thought it be easy.
But no. Many died, and when it was over, few were left standing. But they made it. To their new home. The group split into four, and the name "FogClan" sounded pleasing to Stonetail's 25 moon old ears.
Besides all the tempting things that the other clans had, FogClan was mysterious and the territory was his kind of territory.
"As a Warrior of FogClan, it is my duty to serve StarClan... yeah. Right."
Name;; Stonekit, Stonepaw, Stonetail
Gender;; Tom
Age;; Thirty-one moons
Rank;; Warrior
Clan;; Fog
Beliefs;;
Stonetail believes that Starclan exists, but that doesn't mean he has to like it. He thinks-- no, knows-- that Starclan has power. It's just they don't do anything with it! They could be saving kits, stopping disasters, the whole sha-bang. But what do they do? They sit on their hides on send them dreams? Could things get any worse?
Parents;; Mother: Francissca (kittypet, deceased) x Father: Stone (rogue, condition unknown) [NP] Adopted Mother: Whiteheart (FogClan Elder) [NP] x Adopted Father: Stormfang (FogClan Elder) [NP]
Siblings;; Adopted Older Brother: Dovefur (FogClan Warrior) [PC] and Adopted Younger Brother: Sandfang (FogClan Warrior) [NP]
Other Kin;; None.
Mate;; Not yet.
Crush;; Not yet.
Kits;; Not yet.
Apprentice/Mentor;; Not yet.
Appearance;;
Stonetail intimidates many with his glaring orange eyes of his; if you actually took the time to look, you'll notice the closer it is to Stonetail's pupils, the more reddish it becomes and on the outside of his eyes, black circles lay. It gives him a slight raccoon look about him, but it seems to only add on to the intimidation.
His fur is short, but thick, and surprisingly plush. It gives him much grief, though, when it comes to sharing tongues; the queens seem to have an issues with personal space at that time... but he allows them to lick his fur and their kits to play with his tail. Afterall, they are the ones who cared for him as a kit, even if he hadn't been clanborn. That's something Stonetail will always respect; thank his lucky crickets for Maternal Instincts.
Stonetail's pelt itself is a light gray-- so light, it's almost white; in the right light, it's silver, or as I like to call "newly washed steel". It covers his thick, muscled body. Long limbs hold this tom up, and enjoys to show off his well balanced, silent strides. Broad shoulders, jutting hips, and a long tail. This tom was graced with looks by Starclan.
Oh, the irony...
Personality;;
Stonetail is the type of tom you want to avoid. Easily angered and easily just as rude, you'd think someone just killed his mother.
Well, actually... nevermind. A story for later.
As I said before, Stonetail is rude. But that would be an understatement, so let me do the remix for you.
Stonetail is a bit of a brute. He has an indifferent attitude toward those who are weaker than him, and believe that if they can't pull their own weight, then leave them behind. He's completely unsympathetic toward apprentices, even though he use to be one himself. "Young, foolish; there is no room for mistakes in this world. It's do or die-- remember that." Too many mistakes have already happened in Stonetail's life. He doesn't need anymore fox-dung to deal with. He's become OCD ever since finding out his mother's murder-- one of the biggest mistakes in his life. He's become... slightly depressed. Almost devoid of emotions, he has to act the part. It brings him much stress to be who he is now, though it will be all worth it in the end. "You have to keep moving. Like a fish. If you stop swimming, you'll sink..."
He also has one helluva temper. The simplest things will set this tom off. Not enough prey? RAAAAGE. Something out of order? RAAAAGE. Apprentices fooling around? No-- especially apprentices fooling around. It's gonna be RAAAAGE, honey! And he'll be absolutely dramatic about it. Stonetail will screech at the top of his lungs, chewing out a cat until they get the point-- and they get it. Fast. If it's to get the tom off their back, then heck yes! Stonetail throws around criticism like it's the new fashion, always pointing out what others did wrong in a shrewd manner and saying how he could have done better if he'd just done that or this.
Despite Stonetail's temper, though, he has a soft side when around queens, kits, or soon-to-be queens. He treats them like royalty, you could say, whenever he's in a good mood. He plays with kits, brings the queens prey every day, and is, well, at ease when he's around them. It doesn't exactly bring him joy, per say, but it does calm him.
Pfft. Joy? Let's not stretch it, K?
K.
Skills;;
Stonetail was born to fight. He can deal heavy blows to an enemy and knock them out, or just sit on them until they suffocate. Great, ja? Wrong. Stonetail may be strong, but he's slow and he has many weak spots. So he's not exactly perfect, but then again, who is? BUT, despite his lack of speed, he makes up for it with his surprising ability of... running away! (-brick'd-) His hunting skills are very lacking, and he can't track worth fox-dung. Nuff' said.
History
To start it off, Stonetail was born as a half rogue, half kittypet.
His mother, Francissca, was an outdoor kittypet. She was fed by Twolegs, but never went inside their nests, though she did belong to them. This would explain why she didn't carry a kittypet scent. She was usually rolling in toadstools and all sorts of herbs. She enjoys the smell of spearmint on her pelt, strong and relaxing. So it was easy to think that Francissca was a rogue or loner.
Poor Stone.
Stone, Stonetail's father, was a rogue and he despised kittypets. The reason? A couple of kittypets got too rough with his kits one day... and they ended up dying. His kittypet mate, Beetle, had left him with their kits; in the night, without turning back, Stone was in for a shock when he'd wake up. He doesn't blame himself for his kit's deaths, oh no. He blames kittypets.
Now you're wondering why I'm telling you all this. Well, read on and you'll understand soon enough.
When Francissca first met Stone, she lied her way into his heart. The lie? "Me? A kittypet? Those furbrains wouldn't know a mouse from a rabbit if it bit them! I'm a rogue, silly."
The lying continued, though Francissca and Stone got closer to eachother with each passing moon. Slowly but surely they finally became mates, but Francissca refused to tell him the truth.
Then one day...
"Stone-- stone!" Francissca called, trotting toward him.
"What? What's wrong?" Stone grumped, peaking an eye open.
"Nothing! I just wanted to tell you..." Francissca trailed off, shifting nervously.
"Tell me what?" Stone urged her, growing excited at a thought. 'It couldn't be.... but maybe...!'
"I'm going to have kits!" The little she-cat beamed at the tom, curling her tails around her paws.
Stone could only grin.
When the kits-- or should I say kit?-- came, Stone was proud as a rooster who just found the hen house.
But then things went down hill.
"Stone...?"
"Yes, love?" The large tom glanced at his exhausted mate, growing worried at Francissca's tone of voice.
'Just come out with it, Fran'' Francissca thought to herself. 'Stone will still love you. Right?'
"...I'm... not really a rogue, Stone." She started, whiskers quivering. As she saw the tom tense, she continued on.
"I'm....a kittypet." She managed, eyes downcast.
Minutes ticked by and neither of them said a word, the only sound was the mewling from a rather big, grey kitten, who was kneeding at his mother's stomach.
Then Stone finally stood up, glancing down at his kit before saying "We need to talk. Alone." He stated, glancing at the grey fluff of fur once more.
"But he can't possibly hear us, Stone! I don't want to leave him all alone." Francissca whined, eyeing her kit.
"Francissca..." The large tom warned, shoulders squaring.
"Understood." Came the meak response, and Francissca pulled herself away from her kit, standing up, shaking at her ankles.
"Behind the bushes." Was the only response the she-cat got, and she slowly slinked away to the said coordinates, Stone right on her heels.
A rather loud, surprised yowl suddenly cut through the forest's silence, and then there was nothing. The kit began wailing, then. Something was wrong, and he knew it.
A few moments later, Stone came padding out from the bushes. Alone. Smiling down at his kit, he wiped his bloodied paws on the grass and then said "We're going to a very special place, little one." And that was that, picking up his kit and padding deeper into the forest.
It wasn't a long walk. Next thing the kit knows he's be dropped onto the forest floor, who cried out.
Stone fled back to safer grounds, leaving the kit all alone.
Minutes ticked by, and then rustling was heard; a few cats came crawling out from the foliage, glancing this way and that. "I smell a rogue." Rumbled one, glaring at nothing in particular.
"I smell... is that a kit?" Another asked, squinting into the tall grass.
"...It is!" He gasped, trotting into the tall grassy area, picking up the strangely silent kit.
"Is that what I smelled?" The first cat grunted, padding toward his friend's side.
Stormfang said nothing, his mouth full of kit, though he managed to somehow grin.
"You better not be thinking what I think you're thinking, Stormfang." Sparrowheart warned, glaring at the kit in Stormfang's jaws.
Stormfang, with a gleam in his eye, merely strolled away back into the foliage, leaving his hunting buddy in the tall grasses.
"IT ISN'T EVEN YOURS, STORMFANG!" Sparrowheart squawked, but nonetheless ran after his friend.
"You just can't go picking up stray kits like that!"
But he did. Stormfang, the kit's new father, had officially adopted him on sight.
Once he got back to ForestClan camp, there had been a long debate with the leader. After discussing, it was agreed that Stormfang could take care of this kit. Giving him to his mate, Whiteheart, for feeding, Stormfang was stubborn about being the one to bring prey to his mate and visiting "his" new kit.
Growing up was not a hard task for the kit, now dubbed "Stonekit"; wants he became an apprentice, he was mentored by Stormfang's best friend, Sparrowheart.
Stonepaw, though, was in for a surprise one morning.
Going out to hunt that one morning, when Stonepaw got deep into the woods, a tom appeared before him...
Stone appeared, looking old and haggard. He first called out to Stonepaw, yelling "SON?", and Stonepaw stopped dead in his tracks. Why did this tom seem so familiar to him? And why did he call him son?
Turning around, Stonepaw soon realized, that this tom must be crazy!
"I remember... your scent from anywhere!" Stone began, stumbling forward. "The smell of mint." He sighed, sitting down.
"Just like your mother."
Stonepaw was told by his "parents" that he had been adopted. Though that may be true, they loved him either way. WAS this tom his... father? What about his mother?
"Are... are you really...?"
"Yes." Came the croak, Stone's eyes wary.
It was then they talked; talked and talked and talked. About anything, really. But it was the longest conversation Stonepaw had ever had, ranging from morning to dusk.
Then... Stone told him the truth. About his mother, everything-- it just came pouring out of the large, look-a-like of Stonepaw's, Stone's orange eyes pleading for something.
Forgiveness?
Not a chance.
Stonepaw, horrorfied at the news of his own father murdering his mother, fled. Racing back to camp, he told Stormfang everything.
It was decided that Stonepaw was never to speak to Stone again.
Stonepaw agreed.
He never saw his father again after that, but Stonepaw didn't mind. The farther away Stone was from him, the better.
Soon, Stonepaw became a warrior. Stonetail, named for his surprising, slow gracefulness.
It was then the gossip of the "journey" started, and Stonetail was eager, to say the least. If he could leave this land, the one where he was born, and to get away from his father, then heck yes!
The day arrived and Stonetail joined the group who were going to take the great Journey. He'd thought it be easy.
But no. Many died, and when it was over, few were left standing. But they made it. To their new home. The group split into four, and the name "FogClan" sounded pleasing to Stonetail's 25 moon old ears.
Besides all the tempting things that the other clans had, FogClan was mysterious and the territory was his kind of territory.
"As a Warrior of FogClan, it is my duty to serve StarClan... yeah. Right."
We have a cbox again and we're opening the place up as a closed, members only rp