Post by Cloud of Diamonds on Oct 12, 2009 23:08:56 GMT -5
Name | Kite Kitewhisker
www.margsanimals.com/blogs/media/blogs/reviews/beautifulblack-and-white-cat.jpg
Gender | tom
Age | 77 moons
Rank | elder
Clan | Stream
Beliefs| He believes that StarClan is up there, but that they are powerless and their only ability is to appear in dreams. He thinks that leaders' so-called nine lives are fake, because it's just crazy that DEAD cats could do that. And signs...well, Kitewhisker doesn't really know what to think about those. If they really do exist, he thinks, they're just lucky coincidence, most likely. The whole thing is a bit freaky, in Kitewhisker's opinion. Spirits should not tamper too much with the lives of the living, who knows what scary things could happen.
Parents | Speckle-mother-deceased Tommy-father-deceased
Siblings |brother-unnamed(stillborn)-deceased
Other Kin | None
Mate | None
Crush | Not yet
Kits | not yet
Apprentice/Mentor | Not yet
Appearance | Kitewhisker is shorter-bodied and shorter in stature than most tomcats. His muscles are mostly in his front legs, and they are small too. He has a light, almost frail build, with small shoulders and a small chest. His head is small and rounded, with slightly larger than normal ears on it. His whiskers are short and white, and his tail is short as well. Much of his fur is black. He has a white streak down his face, starting between his eyes, and a white muzzle. He also has a white underbelly and white paws.
Personality | Timid, scared, and nervous all describe this little tom. He is scared of almost everything. And I mean everything. His shadow, the trees, the clouds...and it doesn't help that he has an overactive imagination. If he looks at something, the first thing he will think about is what could it do to him, and often works himself up imagining horror scenes which are usually extremely unlikely to happen. He's also paranoid. He would be the first one to cry, "The Apocalypse is coming! We're all DOOOOOMED!" Yeah. And make a big dramatic fuss about it. He loves his drama, though he will deny this.
He loves the chance to make a big deal over nothing and start predicting doom upon us all. It's his favorite thing, even more than imagining calamity scenes. He's not the most social cat in the world, either. Not that he doesn't like talking. If you give him the chance, he'll blabber on about whatever danger he thinks is going to happen today until your ears fall off. But most cats avoid him because of this. And get this: He actually wonders why. He can't figure out why everyone doesn't appreciate his dire warnings and is always amazed when they come home safely every day.
Maybe he has short term memory loss, because he's also kind of bad at remembering everyone's names. Cloudstar, sure. Stormflower, sure. Thrushfang (his only denmate), sure. Badgernose, of course.
But everyone else is lucky if he remembers their names or not. His normal way of calling an apprentice/warrior is, "YOU, young whippersnapper, I'd like to speak with you, so get your tail over here!" Or some variation of that. And the poor soul is generally forced to obey because-le gasp-he's an elder.
Kitewhisker rather enjoys his (he thinks) exalted position in the Clan, because it means he's allowed to rattle on at length. He does occasionally give advice or tell stories, but it's rare. You really have to make him stop talking first, whether in a nice way or not. Kitewhisker isn't an easily offended cat, but only because he doesn't really know what an insult is. Plus, he figures, they want his advice, so that automatically puts him in a position of power. Maybe he does have some brains tucked away somewhere after all. So he doesn't care about insults, really. He's old, what more can they do to him?
Skills | He's a good tracker, about the only real skill he had besides foretelling doom. He could hunt well enough to feed himself, but now he doesn't do it anymore because he's old and it sort of scares him, so his hunting skills are pretty rusty. His fighting skills are absolutely nix. No way, no how would you ever get Kitewhisker to fight unless his life absolutely depended on it.
History | Kitewhisker grew up as an only kit. His sole sibling was a stillborn brother who he doesn't remember and was never told about. He was born just outside of Twolegplace, under the cover of a large bramble bush. His mother, Speckle, was a rogue who'd fallen in love with a kittypet, Tommy, and was having his kit five moons into their relationship. Tommy was with her when his son was born, but was reluctant to completely leave the kittypet life even for his mate and child.
Speckle was a rogue through and through, however, and wanted to raise her only kit in the wilderness. Tommy was sad that he would never know his son, but liked regular feedings and wasn't keen on the idea of catching all his food. So Speckle was left alone to struggle by herself, but it was easier with only one mouth to feed. She named her surviving kit Kite, in the hope that he would grow to be strong like the large black-and-white bird. She raised him like any mother would, but the biggest thing she taught him was to be careful and how even innocent-looking things like berries could kill you.
Kite listened solemnly, vowing to his mother to never take any risks or do anything rash. He began to see the world as a frightening place, filled with terrors that could ensnare the unwary. He wasn't as paranoid then, then, though, just extremely cautious. He had a pretty standard kithood, up until the middle of his seventh moon. When the death of his mother happened. He was asleep in their den in a bramble bush while Speckle was out hunting. That day, his mother didn't come back. Kite was puzzled when he woke up, and started to look for traces of his mother.
It wasn't long before he came across her, or what was left of her, beside a Thunderpath. Hit by a speeding monster as she was about to cross. Kite wanted to yowl that it wasn't fair, that how dare his sweet, caring mother be taken from him so soon? He cursed the world, and all things in it. So he vowed to always, always be on guard, watching, waiting. Now that'd seen the proof of what Speckle had said, what the world was truly like, he would not ever drop his watchfulness. Everything, anything, was dangerous. You could only trust your own kind. All of these thoughts became the code Kite would now live by.
He became a nuisance to cats in the area, and was avoided. Twice he was attacked, once by a fox and once by a badger. After this Kite became convinced the world was out to get him, and he believed this even more so after becoming sick one leaf-bare and nearly dying.
So the moons passed. And Kite...survived. Gradually growing more paranoid all the time. He was even scared of the prey he caught, thinking it might come back to life somehow. But his habit of predicting doom didn't come about until he met Holly, another rogue. Holly was serious-minded, but a lover of drama and had somehow attained the belief that she could predict dooms, even though most of the time she was completely wrong, she'd either lie or twist whatever had happened so cats would believe her when she boasted to them of her "skills."
When he met her, Kite was enraptured by her "amazing ability." To him this was rock-hard proof of his beliefs, and more. He too joined in with "predicting doom", and it became a new hobby of his. They traveled together for a while, but one day Holly left him, claiming it was her doom to die beyond this area. Kite was sad, but like the moron he is he believed her.
His life continued as normally as it was-for him. But as he began to grow older, he began to worry. It was a miracle and a blessing he'd survived this long-but what would he do when he could no longer catch his own prey?
When he saw the Clans that had moved into his area, and learned about them, he wanted to join immediately. He would be cared for, and honored because of his age and experience-what could be better? But still, he was nervous. He decided to watch travel for a few moons, watching the clans to be sure they bore him no ill will. He visited each Clan's camp, learning and asking about their way of life. He finally ended up joining StreamClan because they were the closest Clan to where he was living.
www.margsanimals.com/blogs/media/blogs/reviews/beautifulblack-and-white-cat.jpg
Gender | tom
Age | 77 moons
Rank | elder
Clan | Stream
Beliefs| He believes that StarClan is up there, but that they are powerless and their only ability is to appear in dreams. He thinks that leaders' so-called nine lives are fake, because it's just crazy that DEAD cats could do that. And signs...well, Kitewhisker doesn't really know what to think about those. If they really do exist, he thinks, they're just lucky coincidence, most likely. The whole thing is a bit freaky, in Kitewhisker's opinion. Spirits should not tamper too much with the lives of the living, who knows what scary things could happen.
Parents | Speckle-mother-deceased Tommy-father-deceased
Siblings |brother-unnamed(stillborn)-deceased
Other Kin | None
Mate | None
Crush | Not yet
Kits | not yet
Apprentice/Mentor | Not yet
Appearance | Kitewhisker is shorter-bodied and shorter in stature than most tomcats. His muscles are mostly in his front legs, and they are small too. He has a light, almost frail build, with small shoulders and a small chest. His head is small and rounded, with slightly larger than normal ears on it. His whiskers are short and white, and his tail is short as well. Much of his fur is black. He has a white streak down his face, starting between his eyes, and a white muzzle. He also has a white underbelly and white paws.
Personality | Timid, scared, and nervous all describe this little tom. He is scared of almost everything. And I mean everything. His shadow, the trees, the clouds...and it doesn't help that he has an overactive imagination. If he looks at something, the first thing he will think about is what could it do to him, and often works himself up imagining horror scenes which are usually extremely unlikely to happen. He's also paranoid. He would be the first one to cry, "The Apocalypse is coming! We're all DOOOOOMED!" Yeah. And make a big dramatic fuss about it. He loves his drama, though he will deny this.
He loves the chance to make a big deal over nothing and start predicting doom upon us all. It's his favorite thing, even more than imagining calamity scenes. He's not the most social cat in the world, either. Not that he doesn't like talking. If you give him the chance, he'll blabber on about whatever danger he thinks is going to happen today until your ears fall off. But most cats avoid him because of this. And get this: He actually wonders why. He can't figure out why everyone doesn't appreciate his dire warnings and is always amazed when they come home safely every day.
Maybe he has short term memory loss, because he's also kind of bad at remembering everyone's names. Cloudstar, sure. Stormflower, sure. Thrushfang (his only denmate), sure. Badgernose, of course.
But everyone else is lucky if he remembers their names or not. His normal way of calling an apprentice/warrior is, "YOU, young whippersnapper, I'd like to speak with you, so get your tail over here!" Or some variation of that. And the poor soul is generally forced to obey because-le gasp-he's an elder.
Kitewhisker rather enjoys his (he thinks) exalted position in the Clan, because it means he's allowed to rattle on at length. He does occasionally give advice or tell stories, but it's rare. You really have to make him stop talking first, whether in a nice way or not. Kitewhisker isn't an easily offended cat, but only because he doesn't really know what an insult is. Plus, he figures, they want his advice, so that automatically puts him in a position of power. Maybe he does have some brains tucked away somewhere after all. So he doesn't care about insults, really. He's old, what more can they do to him?
Skills | He's a good tracker, about the only real skill he had besides foretelling doom. He could hunt well enough to feed himself, but now he doesn't do it anymore because he's old and it sort of scares him, so his hunting skills are pretty rusty. His fighting skills are absolutely nix. No way, no how would you ever get Kitewhisker to fight unless his life absolutely depended on it.
History | Kitewhisker grew up as an only kit. His sole sibling was a stillborn brother who he doesn't remember and was never told about. He was born just outside of Twolegplace, under the cover of a large bramble bush. His mother, Speckle, was a rogue who'd fallen in love with a kittypet, Tommy, and was having his kit five moons into their relationship. Tommy was with her when his son was born, but was reluctant to completely leave the kittypet life even for his mate and child.
Speckle was a rogue through and through, however, and wanted to raise her only kit in the wilderness. Tommy was sad that he would never know his son, but liked regular feedings and wasn't keen on the idea of catching all his food. So Speckle was left alone to struggle by herself, but it was easier with only one mouth to feed. She named her surviving kit Kite, in the hope that he would grow to be strong like the large black-and-white bird. She raised him like any mother would, but the biggest thing she taught him was to be careful and how even innocent-looking things like berries could kill you.
Kite listened solemnly, vowing to his mother to never take any risks or do anything rash. He began to see the world as a frightening place, filled with terrors that could ensnare the unwary. He wasn't as paranoid then, then, though, just extremely cautious. He had a pretty standard kithood, up until the middle of his seventh moon. When the death of his mother happened. He was asleep in their den in a bramble bush while Speckle was out hunting. That day, his mother didn't come back. Kite was puzzled when he woke up, and started to look for traces of his mother.
It wasn't long before he came across her, or what was left of her, beside a Thunderpath. Hit by a speeding monster as she was about to cross. Kite wanted to yowl that it wasn't fair, that how dare his sweet, caring mother be taken from him so soon? He cursed the world, and all things in it. So he vowed to always, always be on guard, watching, waiting. Now that'd seen the proof of what Speckle had said, what the world was truly like, he would not ever drop his watchfulness. Everything, anything, was dangerous. You could only trust your own kind. All of these thoughts became the code Kite would now live by.
He became a nuisance to cats in the area, and was avoided. Twice he was attacked, once by a fox and once by a badger. After this Kite became convinced the world was out to get him, and he believed this even more so after becoming sick one leaf-bare and nearly dying.
So the moons passed. And Kite...survived. Gradually growing more paranoid all the time. He was even scared of the prey he caught, thinking it might come back to life somehow. But his habit of predicting doom didn't come about until he met Holly, another rogue. Holly was serious-minded, but a lover of drama and had somehow attained the belief that she could predict dooms, even though most of the time she was completely wrong, she'd either lie or twist whatever had happened so cats would believe her when she boasted to them of her "skills."
When he met her, Kite was enraptured by her "amazing ability." To him this was rock-hard proof of his beliefs, and more. He too joined in with "predicting doom", and it became a new hobby of his. They traveled together for a while, but one day Holly left him, claiming it was her doom to die beyond this area. Kite was sad, but like the moron he is he believed her.
His life continued as normally as it was-for him. But as he began to grow older, he began to worry. It was a miracle and a blessing he'd survived this long-but what would he do when he could no longer catch his own prey?
When he saw the Clans that had moved into his area, and learned about them, he wanted to join immediately. He would be cared for, and honored because of his age and experience-what could be better? But still, he was nervous. He decided to watch travel for a few moons, watching the clans to be sure they bore him no ill will. He visited each Clan's camp, learning and asking about their way of life. He finally ended up joining StreamClan because they were the closest Clan to where he was living.
We have a cbox again and we're opening the place up as a closed, members only rp