Post by RaattleCaat on Jan 4, 2013 20:01:13 GMT -5
Name: Icetalon
Age: 36
Gender: She-cat
Clan: FrostClan
Rank: Warrior
Picture:
Description: One couldn't call Icetalon's pelt just 'grey', for it would not come close to describing the wide range of shades that mark her soft, short fur. Her icy blue eyes are rimmed by a very thin but striking strip of white, which gradually grows the slightest bit darker as it proceeds to her snout. However, this comes to an abrupt stop about halfway down, where it once again turns a shade of grey so light you'd swear it was white; this colour continues onward from there, marking both her muzzle and the fur around her mouth. The underside of her chin is the same hue as well, and it doesn't end there; rather, the light hairs run all the way down to her chest and cover her underbelly and front paws.
Icetalon has the traditional tabby cat markings; dark, blue-grey lines mark her silvery-blue pelt in various places, creating broken stripes in a variety of places- some stand out significantly, specifically the one going down the length of her spine, and the stripes on her tail. Others are much lighter, nearly blending in with the rest of her coat, generally as they get further from the mid-back area and closer to her underbelly. Due to Icetalon's very thorough, obsessive and time-consuming grooming habits, her fur is generally free of most "imperfections" (so she deems them)- namely ruffled areas or small scraps of moss that don't want to be apart of her nest. The reasoning behind the desperate bid to rid her coat of the aforementioned things and more is simply because she wants to make a good impression, which is a relatively difficult thing to do when one has moss and mud sticking to them, or fleas and ticks jumping around on their backs. In all truthfulness, the she-cat doesn't have anything against getting dirty, as long as there's a good cause for it, like training, hunting, fighting, and so on.
Icetalon's obsession with making a good impression is also noticeable in her build, surprisingly enough. She is determined to keep herself in the best physical condition possible, and tries to do that by hunting, practicing battle moves, climbing trees, and racing around the territory daily. She's built up a considerable amount of muscle with this regular routine, and thanks to her slightly thicker-than-the-average-female build, it is a little more noticeable than one would think. The fact that she's slightly shorter than the norm doesn't really help in making the young warrior look more slender or graceful, instead giving her a subtle, compact look. As stated before, her frame and build isn't significantly different than the average for she-cats, but it's just hinted at enough to be noticeable.
Personality: Icetalon is a difficult cat to describe, although that holds true with every other living creature that has a personality of some kind, and, like everyone in this world, it's made up of layers so to speak. The top layer is the one everyone sees; the cold albeit calm and calculating she-cat who has just the slightest bit of pride in herself, and a considerable amount of confidence in her abilities in regards to hunting, fighting and just plain surviving. The grey tabby's actions and views on life are pretty much solely based on survival, and having had "survival of the fittest" hammered into her since the day she was born, and thus everything she does is carefully planned out and considered. Whilst hunting, she calculates the areas known to have more prey at that time of the year, taking into account the various things that could alter it. While this can be quite useful, when something unexpected occurs or something just follows the trend, all those carefully laid plans collapse, which drives Icetalon absolutely mad... But we'll get to that bit later. In regards to battle, specifically spontaneous ones, she'll often toy with her opponent, drawing out the fight to learn about their combat style before taking what she believes to be the best course of action. While this has worked for her most of the time, it can backfire when she meets a thinker like herself, or the enemy is simply that much stronger or smarter than she is.
As implied above, Icetalon is a meticulous planner and thinker; an over thinker, to be honest. She likes things to line up perfectly, and when they don't, it's generally best to run for cover, for the next most common expression to be shown on the she-cat's face is anger. If a plan fails or doesn't come through quite the way she wanted it, she will most certainly overreact and not only will she become even colder and snappier than normal, but she'll also start sulking and brooding until she comes up with a way to "patch" the issue up. As immature as this behavior can be, Icetalon really couldn't care less; if something isn't right, she has to try and fix either the plan or the problem, depending. This applies to just about everything; prey not being in the right spot at the "right time", enemies pulling odd tricks, training not going as well as she wanted it too, an uneven number of nests in the den, the freshkill pile being uneven... The list is endless, and a lot of the items on it are absolutely ridiculous. Nevertheless, no matter how small the issue, it will most certainly bug the she-cat until it gets "fixed" in her terms, whether by herself or by another.
While the harsh "survival of the fittest" rule that she abode by as a kit, and still does today (albeit a little less strictly) has done the feline some good, it has also hindered her in one of the most important areas of her life- social skills. Icetalon has spent over half of her life in solitude, and although she spent a good sixteen moons with her family, considering how dysfunctional they were, solitude would have been preferable. Their lifestyle was horrendous, and because of it, Icetalon never learned to love or care for others. In fact, she was taught to hate (or at least distrust) everyone, because you'd never know who might slight your throat in the night. She watched one of her siblings die, and saw another one go marching of to her death. She ended the lives of her parents and one particularly nasty sibling with the help of her remaining two kin, one of which was fatally wounded in the processed. She saved him from suffering by slitting his throat. She sent her only living sister off into the lands they never ventured into, where said sister could very well die... And all throughout this, Icetalon felt nothing. Perhaps a pang of pity at most, but nothing more; her survival was, to her, the most important thing at that time, and she wanted to ensure that she would live above all else. It sounds selfish, and yes, it is, but her kin were brought up the same way, and thinking that way was the only way to survive. She kept herself emotionally detached from everything and everyone so that she could live on and not be weighted down by the grief that would have plagued any other cat. Between this and depending on herself for so long, she neither wanted nor needed to band together with others, and because of this, she has absolutely no skills in interacting with others. She says what she thinks, and that's all there is to it; if you screw up, she'll tell it to you. If you could do something better, then you'll hear what you could improve on too. Of course, it's always the negative; no point in praising the positive, in her eyes, because that will get you nowhere; if you don't work on improving, the "chances of survival are lessened".
So, how in the name of StarClan (which she doesn't believe in, by the way) did such an individual make it into a clan, or even want to be apart of one in the first place? Icetalon won't admit to it, but it's because she was starting to crave companionship. Even the coldest of individuals can feel the pang of loneliness, and after nineteen moons of being near no one, it can be a little overwhelming, no matter how hardened or tough one claims to be.
History: Icetalon's past can easily be considered a tragic tale; even she agrees so, but because of the way she and her siblings were raised, and how she was emotionally detached from the world, it doesn't haunt her at night, per say, or plague her every step. She's not tortured by the pleading cries of her drowning brother, or the wailing of her dying sister. In fact, the only reason Icetalon agrees that it can be called "tragic" is because of the innocent lives lost- not because of the potential emotional trauma it could have bestowed (or has).
Icetalon's parents had a rather twisted view of the world, and believed that only the strongest should be allowed to live, and perhaps it was because of that notion that very few of the family is still alive today. The first kit to die never received a name- he was struggling to push his six other brothers and sisters out of the way to drink his mother's milk- so they quite literally threw him to the crows, and felt no remorse for it either. Of course, Ice and her siblings were too young to even recognize that one of their brethren had been murdered in cold blood, and it wasn't until much later that they learned about this horrible deed. However, by the time they could comprehend it, "survival of the fittest" had been hammered into them so hard that they felt no sorrow at their kin's passing either... With the exception of Thorn.
See, Thorn was a gentle soul, and disagreed with the subject of killing those who weren't nearly as strong as the rest for the purposes of this so-called survival. After all, Wasp and Sparrow had the skill and resources to easily provide for not only themselves, but their kits as well. However, when he was six moons old, this behavior was deemed "unacceptable" and Wasp ordered Hornet -his pride and joy- to drown her brother in the river, and she did so with glee. Hornet's heart was tainted with evil from the minute she was conceived, and she took pleasure in causing others harm- specifically her siblings. Ice and Blaze were the only two capable of standing their ground against the bloodthirsty she-cat, and that was only due to their superior size; but even then, they had some difficulty beating her back. Oftentimes a tag-team was necessary to keep her from "accidentally" killing the rest of her kin. Wasp and Sparrow both applauded this, of course; destroy the competition, and your chances of survival were high. It was a wonder the pair hadn't tried to kill each other off already.
Three moons passed before another of the siblings died, and this time it was Killdeer. It was a nasty leafbare at the time, and the prey was scarce; she returned home with nothing to eat, and deeming her useless, Sparrow came up with a plan to kill off the "weak" link. She told her kit about a part of the forest that contained an incredible amount of plump prey. Coincidentally, a bear lived in that part of the forest as well, but Sparrow neglected to mention that. Gleeful, Killdeer raced off, and never returned. It didn't take a genius to guess what had happened to the poor kit. Actually, the minute she returned home with empty jaws was the minute that Ice, Blaze, Otter and Hornet all realized that yet another of their kin was about to die. The first three felt pity, but not sadness; after all, only the strongest could survive in the small forest, and if Killdeer couldn't support herself, she was better off dead... Right?
More moons passed- five, to be exact. By now, the four remaining kits, at fourteen moons, were not kits, but rather full fledged cats, and with it came the final test; an all out family brawl. While it was intended to be a one-on-one, it quickly became three-on-three; despite what they had been taught, Blaze, Ice and Otter had banded together in order to survive and fend off the relentless attacks of Hornet, who was too much for them to handle on their own. But fear does strange things to cats, and perhaps because of it, the bloody battle ended with not only Hornet down, but Wasp and Sparrow as well, but not without a price. Blaze had been gutted, for lack of a better word, and was dying slowly. He and his sisters shared one last goodbye before Ice ended his suffering herself; her wickedly sharp claws dripping with the blood of not only her brother, but her evil sister and twisted parents as well.
That same night, Ice and Otter found refuge on the other side of the forest, where they lived and worked together for a considerable amount of time. They didn't love each other like siblings are supposed to- their lifestyle had ruined any chance of that. They viewed each other as equals, and once it became obvious that neither one of them needed the other, a scuffle broke out. Not a serious one, but rather an act to decide who stayed and who had to go. Ice won, and thus Otter left the forest, headed to make a place for herself, and in turn, leaving Ice alone. The she-cat didn't feel alone at first, however; despite having been surrounded by cats all her life up until this point, there was no emotional attachment to them. They were just there, and that was all; obstacles at most. As such, she had no issues with settling in, and since she was already well-accustomed with the climate of the region, she was set to go.
Nothing overly exciting happened afterwards, apart from the occasional intruder (both feline and not feline), and a few close calls with thin ice on the river. No matter what happened, Ice always walked with her head held high, and kept her wits about her; she harbored no feelings, ill or not, towards her parents, but was grateful that she had been taught more than what was necessary to survive, even during the toughest of leafbares. Perseverance was the key (along with ignoring her empty stomach), and Ice certainly persevered.
However, it couldn't last forever. One day, a small group of twolegs came to the forest during the night, and built a fire in a clearing not too far away from where Icetalon lived at the time. She kept an eye on it, having seen this sort of thing before, but still concerned nonetheless. At about moonhigh, a scuffle broke out among the twolegs, which started the chaos. Sticks and stones were thrown, and then a long, shiny cylindrical can that smelled foul and contained poison to kill off small creatures. Icetalon had hit the ground running when she saw the one twoleg reach for the thing, and it was a smart move on her part, because his aim was terrible, and the can hit the fire. The result was a lovely explosion and fire; fire everywhere. Despite having a bit of a head start, Icetalon barely made it out of there and away from the danger alive, although she had burned the bottom of her one foot whilst trying to escape, and had inflicted several small scratches on herself when she got ensnared in a thorn bush. Trying to get out of that one had been tough, not to mention terrifying.
The she-cat had wandered around for awhile afterwards, seeking out a new home, when she stumbled onto the clan cats. She spent a few more days watching them, wary of them due to her past experience with groups of cats, but curious as well, and after realizing that they weren't hostile at all, took another few days to decide what to do. She didn't know the area, was alone and hurt, and hungry as well.
RP Example: Give an example of your roleplaying style with this character. At least a paragraph. More is encouraged, especially if you plan on having a high ranking character.
Age: 36
Gender: She-cat
Clan: FrostClan
Rank: Warrior
Picture:
Description: One couldn't call Icetalon's pelt just 'grey', for it would not come close to describing the wide range of shades that mark her soft, short fur. Her icy blue eyes are rimmed by a very thin but striking strip of white, which gradually grows the slightest bit darker as it proceeds to her snout. However, this comes to an abrupt stop about halfway down, where it once again turns a shade of grey so light you'd swear it was white; this colour continues onward from there, marking both her muzzle and the fur around her mouth. The underside of her chin is the same hue as well, and it doesn't end there; rather, the light hairs run all the way down to her chest and cover her underbelly and front paws.
Icetalon has the traditional tabby cat markings; dark, blue-grey lines mark her silvery-blue pelt in various places, creating broken stripes in a variety of places- some stand out significantly, specifically the one going down the length of her spine, and the stripes on her tail. Others are much lighter, nearly blending in with the rest of her coat, generally as they get further from the mid-back area and closer to her underbelly. Due to Icetalon's very thorough, obsessive and time-consuming grooming habits, her fur is generally free of most "imperfections" (so she deems them)- namely ruffled areas or small scraps of moss that don't want to be apart of her nest. The reasoning behind the desperate bid to rid her coat of the aforementioned things and more is simply because she wants to make a good impression, which is a relatively difficult thing to do when one has moss and mud sticking to them, or fleas and ticks jumping around on their backs. In all truthfulness, the she-cat doesn't have anything against getting dirty, as long as there's a good cause for it, like training, hunting, fighting, and so on.
Icetalon's obsession with making a good impression is also noticeable in her build, surprisingly enough. She is determined to keep herself in the best physical condition possible, and tries to do that by hunting, practicing battle moves, climbing trees, and racing around the territory daily. She's built up a considerable amount of muscle with this regular routine, and thanks to her slightly thicker-than-the-average-female build, it is a little more noticeable than one would think. The fact that she's slightly shorter than the norm doesn't really help in making the young warrior look more slender or graceful, instead giving her a subtle, compact look. As stated before, her frame and build isn't significantly different than the average for she-cats, but it's just hinted at enough to be noticeable.
Personality: Icetalon is a difficult cat to describe, although that holds true with every other living creature that has a personality of some kind, and, like everyone in this world, it's made up of layers so to speak. The top layer is the one everyone sees; the cold albeit calm and calculating she-cat who has just the slightest bit of pride in herself, and a considerable amount of confidence in her abilities in regards to hunting, fighting and just plain surviving. The grey tabby's actions and views on life are pretty much solely based on survival, and having had "survival of the fittest" hammered into her since the day she was born, and thus everything she does is carefully planned out and considered. Whilst hunting, she calculates the areas known to have more prey at that time of the year, taking into account the various things that could alter it. While this can be quite useful, when something unexpected occurs or something just follows the trend, all those carefully laid plans collapse, which drives Icetalon absolutely mad... But we'll get to that bit later. In regards to battle, specifically spontaneous ones, she'll often toy with her opponent, drawing out the fight to learn about their combat style before taking what she believes to be the best course of action. While this has worked for her most of the time, it can backfire when she meets a thinker like herself, or the enemy is simply that much stronger or smarter than she is.
As implied above, Icetalon is a meticulous planner and thinker; an over thinker, to be honest. She likes things to line up perfectly, and when they don't, it's generally best to run for cover, for the next most common expression to be shown on the she-cat's face is anger. If a plan fails or doesn't come through quite the way she wanted it, she will most certainly overreact and not only will she become even colder and snappier than normal, but she'll also start sulking and brooding until she comes up with a way to "patch" the issue up. As immature as this behavior can be, Icetalon really couldn't care less; if something isn't right, she has to try and fix either the plan or the problem, depending. This applies to just about everything; prey not being in the right spot at the "right time", enemies pulling odd tricks, training not going as well as she wanted it too, an uneven number of nests in the den, the freshkill pile being uneven... The list is endless, and a lot of the items on it are absolutely ridiculous. Nevertheless, no matter how small the issue, it will most certainly bug the she-cat until it gets "fixed" in her terms, whether by herself or by another.
While the harsh "survival of the fittest" rule that she abode by as a kit, and still does today (albeit a little less strictly) has done the feline some good, it has also hindered her in one of the most important areas of her life- social skills. Icetalon has spent over half of her life in solitude, and although she spent a good sixteen moons with her family, considering how dysfunctional they were, solitude would have been preferable. Their lifestyle was horrendous, and because of it, Icetalon never learned to love or care for others. In fact, she was taught to hate (or at least distrust) everyone, because you'd never know who might slight your throat in the night. She watched one of her siblings die, and saw another one go marching of to her death. She ended the lives of her parents and one particularly nasty sibling with the help of her remaining two kin, one of which was fatally wounded in the processed. She saved him from suffering by slitting his throat. She sent her only living sister off into the lands they never ventured into, where said sister could very well die... And all throughout this, Icetalon felt nothing. Perhaps a pang of pity at most, but nothing more; her survival was, to her, the most important thing at that time, and she wanted to ensure that she would live above all else. It sounds selfish, and yes, it is, but her kin were brought up the same way, and thinking that way was the only way to survive. She kept herself emotionally detached from everything and everyone so that she could live on and not be weighted down by the grief that would have plagued any other cat. Between this and depending on herself for so long, she neither wanted nor needed to band together with others, and because of this, she has absolutely no skills in interacting with others. She says what she thinks, and that's all there is to it; if you screw up, she'll tell it to you. If you could do something better, then you'll hear what you could improve on too. Of course, it's always the negative; no point in praising the positive, in her eyes, because that will get you nowhere; if you don't work on improving, the "chances of survival are lessened".
So, how in the name of StarClan (which she doesn't believe in, by the way) did such an individual make it into a clan, or even want to be apart of one in the first place? Icetalon won't admit to it, but it's because she was starting to crave companionship. Even the coldest of individuals can feel the pang of loneliness, and after nineteen moons of being near no one, it can be a little overwhelming, no matter how hardened or tough one claims to be.
History: Icetalon's past can easily be considered a tragic tale; even she agrees so, but because of the way she and her siblings were raised, and how she was emotionally detached from the world, it doesn't haunt her at night, per say, or plague her every step. She's not tortured by the pleading cries of her drowning brother, or the wailing of her dying sister. In fact, the only reason Icetalon agrees that it can be called "tragic" is because of the innocent lives lost- not because of the potential emotional trauma it could have bestowed (or has).
Icetalon's parents had a rather twisted view of the world, and believed that only the strongest should be allowed to live, and perhaps it was because of that notion that very few of the family is still alive today. The first kit to die never received a name- he was struggling to push his six other brothers and sisters out of the way to drink his mother's milk- so they quite literally threw him to the crows, and felt no remorse for it either. Of course, Ice and her siblings were too young to even recognize that one of their brethren had been murdered in cold blood, and it wasn't until much later that they learned about this horrible deed. However, by the time they could comprehend it, "survival of the fittest" had been hammered into them so hard that they felt no sorrow at their kin's passing either... With the exception of Thorn.
See, Thorn was a gentle soul, and disagreed with the subject of killing those who weren't nearly as strong as the rest for the purposes of this so-called survival. After all, Wasp and Sparrow had the skill and resources to easily provide for not only themselves, but their kits as well. However, when he was six moons old, this behavior was deemed "unacceptable" and Wasp ordered Hornet -his pride and joy- to drown her brother in the river, and she did so with glee. Hornet's heart was tainted with evil from the minute she was conceived, and she took pleasure in causing others harm- specifically her siblings. Ice and Blaze were the only two capable of standing their ground against the bloodthirsty she-cat, and that was only due to their superior size; but even then, they had some difficulty beating her back. Oftentimes a tag-team was necessary to keep her from "accidentally" killing the rest of her kin. Wasp and Sparrow both applauded this, of course; destroy the competition, and your chances of survival were high. It was a wonder the pair hadn't tried to kill each other off already.
Three moons passed before another of the siblings died, and this time it was Killdeer. It was a nasty leafbare at the time, and the prey was scarce; she returned home with nothing to eat, and deeming her useless, Sparrow came up with a plan to kill off the "weak" link. She told her kit about a part of the forest that contained an incredible amount of plump prey. Coincidentally, a bear lived in that part of the forest as well, but Sparrow neglected to mention that. Gleeful, Killdeer raced off, and never returned. It didn't take a genius to guess what had happened to the poor kit. Actually, the minute she returned home with empty jaws was the minute that Ice, Blaze, Otter and Hornet all realized that yet another of their kin was about to die. The first three felt pity, but not sadness; after all, only the strongest could survive in the small forest, and if Killdeer couldn't support herself, she was better off dead... Right?
More moons passed- five, to be exact. By now, the four remaining kits, at fourteen moons, were not kits, but rather full fledged cats, and with it came the final test; an all out family brawl. While it was intended to be a one-on-one, it quickly became three-on-three; despite what they had been taught, Blaze, Ice and Otter had banded together in order to survive and fend off the relentless attacks of Hornet, who was too much for them to handle on their own. But fear does strange things to cats, and perhaps because of it, the bloody battle ended with not only Hornet down, but Wasp and Sparrow as well, but not without a price. Blaze had been gutted, for lack of a better word, and was dying slowly. He and his sisters shared one last goodbye before Ice ended his suffering herself; her wickedly sharp claws dripping with the blood of not only her brother, but her evil sister and twisted parents as well.
That same night, Ice and Otter found refuge on the other side of the forest, where they lived and worked together for a considerable amount of time. They didn't love each other like siblings are supposed to- their lifestyle had ruined any chance of that. They viewed each other as equals, and once it became obvious that neither one of them needed the other, a scuffle broke out. Not a serious one, but rather an act to decide who stayed and who had to go. Ice won, and thus Otter left the forest, headed to make a place for herself, and in turn, leaving Ice alone. The she-cat didn't feel alone at first, however; despite having been surrounded by cats all her life up until this point, there was no emotional attachment to them. They were just there, and that was all; obstacles at most. As such, she had no issues with settling in, and since she was already well-accustomed with the climate of the region, she was set to go.
Nothing overly exciting happened afterwards, apart from the occasional intruder (both feline and not feline), and a few close calls with thin ice on the river. No matter what happened, Ice always walked with her head held high, and kept her wits about her; she harbored no feelings, ill or not, towards her parents, but was grateful that she had been taught more than what was necessary to survive, even during the toughest of leafbares. Perseverance was the key (along with ignoring her empty stomach), and Ice certainly persevered.
However, it couldn't last forever. One day, a small group of twolegs came to the forest during the night, and built a fire in a clearing not too far away from where Icetalon lived at the time. She kept an eye on it, having seen this sort of thing before, but still concerned nonetheless. At about moonhigh, a scuffle broke out among the twolegs, which started the chaos. Sticks and stones were thrown, and then a long, shiny cylindrical can that smelled foul and contained poison to kill off small creatures. Icetalon had hit the ground running when she saw the one twoleg reach for the thing, and it was a smart move on her part, because his aim was terrible, and the can hit the fire. The result was a lovely explosion and fire; fire everywhere. Despite having a bit of a head start, Icetalon barely made it out of there and away from the danger alive, although she had burned the bottom of her one foot whilst trying to escape, and had inflicted several small scratches on herself when she got ensnared in a thorn bush. Trying to get out of that one had been tough, not to mention terrifying.
The she-cat had wandered around for awhile afterwards, seeking out a new home, when she stumbled onto the clan cats. She spent a few more days watching them, wary of them due to her past experience with groups of cats, but curious as well, and after realizing that they weren't hostile at all, took another few days to decide what to do. She didn't know the area, was alone and hurt, and hungry as well.
RP Example: Give an example of your roleplaying style with this character. At least a paragraph. More is encouraged, especially if you plan on having a high ranking character.