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Post by Flintpelt [Spideh] on May 8, 2006 14:43:39 GMT -5
Name:
Red Needle.
Do you honor?:
No way.
Age:
19 moons.
Gender:
Tom, other word for male.
Appearance:
It's quite easy to tell this tome apart from others.
First of all, his pelt is a brilliant dark red, like flowing crimson, and considerably long. Its hues change slightly, making it seem striped, but it is an almost imperceptible impression. The darker or lighter strips meld into the base vermilion, and so practically disappear.
His fur sticks up all over his body, making him look like a gigantic pincushion. This fact makes him look quite 'poofy' and fat, but it bothers him in the least. He enjoys having original traits that no one else has ever had. It makes him feel different from others, instead of being an endlessly-copied clone of exactly the same thing. However, he doesn't feel different to the point where he refuses to meet others that are not as... 'unusual' as he.
A few markings give new colors to his flaming coat. Both the tips of his ears and the bulbous end of his tail are colored a deep, ebony black, glossy and clean. The top of his audit is also different, for, instead of sticking out in all directions, it obstinately grows upwards, creating a fuzzy onyx tuft.
Another marking is the coloration of his legs. His forepaws, two large, thick things that look like they would be used for battle more than hunting, are colored a deep brown, like that or fertile earth after a refreshing downpour. His hindlegs, longer than the fore but nearly the same, are entirely brown, and of a slightly lighter shade than the paws on his forelegs. The coloration of both ends in thin spikes climbing up the haunches or shoulders, blending into the common carmine hue on the rest of his pelt.
Between the barely visible points of his shoulder-blades is a large white patch of fur, making quite a contrast with the darker and fiercer colors making up his body. It is colored an ivory tone, like old snow or the clouds high up in a summer sky. This area is slightly shorter in matter of floofiness, but its rise is still noticeable.
As for his eyes, they are dyed an intense dark yellow, soft and glowing with warmth. Specks of other colors are also present in the calm pools of his orbs, such as the shining gold of honey fresh from the hive, or the icy blue of a river in winter, frozen by the cold. Often, and most of the time, his eyes are wide open to take in all he can. Though he has been remembering for eight moons now, he still marvels at the wonders of the world, and continues to stare at them with as much curiosity as he did at thirteen moons of age.
Because of his easy life, since he is not aggressive and doesn't bother the Clans very much, living away from them as much as he can, Red has grown a bit corpulent and tubby. However, you could never call him 'fat'. Days of hunting keep him nice and lean enough, though his fur hides any muscle he may have. And his weight doesn't bother him at all, either. It actually makes him look quite happy, even jolly. Ever noticed how monks who lead a happy life are represented as fat, short guys with a circle of hair on their heads? xP
A silly grin of joy is constantly pasted on his content features, creasing his face into a good many dimples and smile-wrinkles. It shows all of his teeth, yes, but he never seems to look angry or savage when he grins.
Though he may be slim enough to not be called 'fat', Red isn't very muscled either. He doesn't always catch his prey, but there's enough where he lives to keep him fit qnd happy. His sinew will probably never grow that much, but he does keep it working just enough to not let it crumple up on itself.
His proportions are quite amazing. In addition to his plumpness and almost complete lack of strength and muscle, he has quite short and stumpy legs carrying him about, as if he had never really changed from what he looked like as a kit. However, opposed to this portly, short and squat image are his tail and neck, surprisingly long for such a bunched cat. Because of the strange length of his neck compared to the rest of his body, Red always looks as if he is leaning forwards in curiosity.
RP Example:
Far in the forest, illuminated by shafts of bright sunlight and hidden from other eyes, was a spacious clearing. It was obvious that it had inhabitants; the moss on the trees was crushed flat, a large pile in interwoven sticks created a den over on a far side, and the scent of cat permeated the air.
The portly figure of a crimson red tom blundered in, short legs stumbling under a massive amount of wood. Most of it was on his back, kept still by his comically long tail, while the rest was kept in the crook of his neck by his bent head and in his tightly locked jaws. Intense yellow gaze wandered over the make-shift 'camp', settling on the small den, and the tom called out in a muffled voice,
"Blohk? Ah oo 'er?"
The thin figure of an elderly she-cat stalked out of the den, eyelids heavy with sleep. She yawned, each section of her maw going away from each other, revealing each and every one of her dirty yellow fangs. Mouth closed shut with a sharp snap, the she-cat smacking her lips, and silvered green gaze rested on the younger tom.
"Ah, Red. I see you've got the load. Nice job, nice job. Cummon, set it down and get yourself some prey. Ya deserve it."
She flashed him a toothy smile as he dropped the sticks, immediately scooting over to the small pile of food the two prepared, small cries of joy escaping his throat. Chuckling, amused as always by his overreactive behavior, she set out on rolling the sticks to the den.
It had originally been a small hole in a bush, but the she-cat had made it bigger by adding sticks and ripping off branches. When she was the only one who could fit, they could now both sleep inside the tiny den. Smiling to herself, she began her work, the tom, Red Needle, crying out in joy as he ran about after his meal. What a wonderful day.
"Vweeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! Me wanna play, me do! Play, Blank?"
Red had rolled over onto his back, and was now supporting himself with hi upside-down head. He gave her a silly grin, crimson paws waving about in the air, the puffy look to his pelt trampled and flattened after his constant rolling. Shaking her head, the old she-cat answered regretfully.
"Sorry, Red. Gotta finish my work first."
Seeing that she was sad about this, Red rolled back onto his stomach, heaved himelf to his paws and licked her cheek affectionately.
"Aww, that's okee. I'll go ta the River, keh?"
"Keh."
Knowing that she was happier now, Red set off, stumpy legs flying, vermilion fur flapping in the wind created by his run. He laughed out loud, happy to be alive, perfectly alive, and happy to have a friend. His new life in this world, after having found out he could not remember the things of before, would have been sad and miserable if he hadn't found her. Grinning to himself again out of pure contentment, he stopped in his tracks, deciding to eat the blackberries off a bush before continuing. It was a beautiful day for both of them.
Clan:
None.
Rank:
He's a loner.
Breed:
I would say Norwegian Forest Cat, though his pelt is quite different. Perhaps a Norwegian Forest/tabby mix?...
Personality:
The single word you could use to completely describe Red's entire personality is actually quite simple -
Insanity.
He's a complete raving maniacal feline. Hardly a thing about his actions is normal. On only one or two very rare occasions has he shown any sign of his being sane, and he probably didn't even do it on purpose.
There are many examples of this fact. For one, he talks to himself as if he had a companion right beside him, and answers his own questions or comments. His 'usual' side will always be quite amiable, while the other, the one he takes up when he replies, could be anything from suicidal to downright cruel. But he continues talking, keeping himself company in the meandering corridors of his twisted mind. Maybe this is because he misses the voice of the old she-cat who took care of him, misses the feelings he gets from talking to a real being, and so attempts to replace it all with his own monologues.
Another is that he sometimes thinks he's a squirrel. He runs up a tree at the mere sight of any predatory bird or animal, screaming 'runrunrun' to himself, perches on a branch and begins chitter-chattering as if his very life depended on it. Anycat would take it as an act, something he did to make others laugh, but the wavering look of complete fear in his strange yellow eyes and the tremors shaking his entire body, the raised hackles along his spine and the low, rumbling hiss in his throat. He would stay up there until all danger had disappeared, and then would clamber down head first, many times missing the last bit and landing on his already troubled head.
One last hint of his madness is that he chews on his tail, especially when he's nervous. He just nabs it, sticks it into his maw and chews it with gusto until all that is left of it is a soggy, bruised thing that looks as if it had been dragged through a thorn bush, dipped in mud and left out in the rain for three suns. He doesn't know why he does it. It's just one of those habits he had from the first sun he awoke and could remember nothing. One of those last vestiges of his past life.
And then there are a few things which would be put on the borderline. Not quite weird, but strange enough.
Red has an unusual liking for crickets. They are one of his most hunted prey, and give him enough excercise for him to drop of a few pounds. But he regains them afterwards anyway. He eats the little insects whole, and is often seen with a cricket leg hanging from the corner of his mouth.
He has an unreasonable fear of thunder, lightning, and anything to do with storms or rain for some reason. It must be because of a happening in his past life that has imprinted a strong enough mark in his decayed memory to have lasted as a few blurry pictures now and then. His intense hate for fire is another such thing. Whenever he sees a two-leg fire, he begins hissing and spitting like a cat at a fox. It would seem quite unnerving to cats around him, but it is perfectly natural to him.
And then there are the things which seem perfectly normal, but are quite a strange presence in a feline such as he. For one, he could be the clumsiest tom you've ever seen. He trips over his own paws, trips on his tail, trips on roots, trips on trees, trips on branches, trips on any obstacle that may have the bad luck to be in his path. But, taking it as perfectly as a cat would take a compliment, he gets right back on his paws and continues on, sure to trip once more a few steps away.
He's always lost and confused about something or other. His mind, muddled from all the falls he has taken, finds it hard to answer any question or find a solution to any predicament - except run, run, run.
Though fear and hate inhabit his portly body, Red also holds an endless affection for all he holds dear or knows. He would save your life for a simple smile, lay down his own time to have you be happy. He'd do anything, anything at all, and would trust you til the end. And that, actually, makes him quite a bit dangerous.
And then there is the matter of his curiosity. He's always curious, up to a point where he almost seems kittish and quite a bit stupid. However, he takes it as nicely as he takes his tripping, and it doesn't matter to him in the least.
History:
More than half of Red's life has been completely erased from his mind. He awoke one day and couldn't remember what had happened before, except for a few fleeting pictures in his confused mind.
Rain...
Falling, falling all around him. Wet. Rain is wet.
And fire.
The only things he truly knew about himself was that he was thirteen moons old and he wasn't a Clan cat. But he wasn't a rogue, either. He didn't even know StarClan existed. So you could have called him loner, even back then.
He set off immediately, looking for company. He tried making friends with a squirrel, two mice and even a vole, but they all got scared of him and ran away. So he had to wander, alone, so very alone, for two moons.
He met the old she-cat by the River. She was grooming herself, and hadn't noticed him creeping up to her side. But, for some strange reason, she wasn't at all surprised when Red pronounced a word of greeting.
"H'llo, ma'am."
"H'llo, young 'un."
Those two simple sentences were what started their friendship. The she-cat gave him a name, since he did not have one, honoring the state of his pelt. Red Needle. Quite a catchy and strange name. Red liked it immediately.
He lived with the other feline for two moons, before the she-cat died from old age. He grieved for her, but could do nothing except make her a grave, and so he did it. He left, regret heavy on his heart.
He's been wandering everywhere since then, amiable and talkative even with his insanity. For a few moons now, Red has been hanging around Windclan territory. Maybe he's thinking of joining his fellow cats once more, and creating a new beginning for himself.
Codewords:
Que tengas suerte, I do believe, and Masked. And, just to be sure, Zeik and The Ancient Ways. Please tell me if another code is somewhere, because I may have looked over it as I went over the modifications in the rules.
Red Needle.
Do you honor?:
No way.
Age:
19 moons.
Gender:
Tom, other word for male.
Appearance:
It's quite easy to tell this tome apart from others.
First of all, his pelt is a brilliant dark red, like flowing crimson, and considerably long. Its hues change slightly, making it seem striped, but it is an almost imperceptible impression. The darker or lighter strips meld into the base vermilion, and so practically disappear.
His fur sticks up all over his body, making him look like a gigantic pincushion. This fact makes him look quite 'poofy' and fat, but it bothers him in the least. He enjoys having original traits that no one else has ever had. It makes him feel different from others, instead of being an endlessly-copied clone of exactly the same thing. However, he doesn't feel different to the point where he refuses to meet others that are not as... 'unusual' as he.
A few markings give new colors to his flaming coat. Both the tips of his ears and the bulbous end of his tail are colored a deep, ebony black, glossy and clean. The top of his audit is also different, for, instead of sticking out in all directions, it obstinately grows upwards, creating a fuzzy onyx tuft.
Another marking is the coloration of his legs. His forepaws, two large, thick things that look like they would be used for battle more than hunting, are colored a deep brown, like that or fertile earth after a refreshing downpour. His hindlegs, longer than the fore but nearly the same, are entirely brown, and of a slightly lighter shade than the paws on his forelegs. The coloration of both ends in thin spikes climbing up the haunches or shoulders, blending into the common carmine hue on the rest of his pelt.
Between the barely visible points of his shoulder-blades is a large white patch of fur, making quite a contrast with the darker and fiercer colors making up his body. It is colored an ivory tone, like old snow or the clouds high up in a summer sky. This area is slightly shorter in matter of floofiness, but its rise is still noticeable.
As for his eyes, they are dyed an intense dark yellow, soft and glowing with warmth. Specks of other colors are also present in the calm pools of his orbs, such as the shining gold of honey fresh from the hive, or the icy blue of a river in winter, frozen by the cold. Often, and most of the time, his eyes are wide open to take in all he can. Though he has been remembering for eight moons now, he still marvels at the wonders of the world, and continues to stare at them with as much curiosity as he did at thirteen moons of age.
Because of his easy life, since he is not aggressive and doesn't bother the Clans very much, living away from them as much as he can, Red has grown a bit corpulent and tubby. However, you could never call him 'fat'. Days of hunting keep him nice and lean enough, though his fur hides any muscle he may have. And his weight doesn't bother him at all, either. It actually makes him look quite happy, even jolly. Ever noticed how monks who lead a happy life are represented as fat, short guys with a circle of hair on their heads? xP
A silly grin of joy is constantly pasted on his content features, creasing his face into a good many dimples and smile-wrinkles. It shows all of his teeth, yes, but he never seems to look angry or savage when he grins.
Though he may be slim enough to not be called 'fat', Red isn't very muscled either. He doesn't always catch his prey, but there's enough where he lives to keep him fit qnd happy. His sinew will probably never grow that much, but he does keep it working just enough to not let it crumple up on itself.
His proportions are quite amazing. In addition to his plumpness and almost complete lack of strength and muscle, he has quite short and stumpy legs carrying him about, as if he had never really changed from what he looked like as a kit. However, opposed to this portly, short and squat image are his tail and neck, surprisingly long for such a bunched cat. Because of the strange length of his neck compared to the rest of his body, Red always looks as if he is leaning forwards in curiosity.
RP Example:
Far in the forest, illuminated by shafts of bright sunlight and hidden from other eyes, was a spacious clearing. It was obvious that it had inhabitants; the moss on the trees was crushed flat, a large pile in interwoven sticks created a den over on a far side, and the scent of cat permeated the air.
The portly figure of a crimson red tom blundered in, short legs stumbling under a massive amount of wood. Most of it was on his back, kept still by his comically long tail, while the rest was kept in the crook of his neck by his bent head and in his tightly locked jaws. Intense yellow gaze wandered over the make-shift 'camp', settling on the small den, and the tom called out in a muffled voice,
"Blohk? Ah oo 'er?"
The thin figure of an elderly she-cat stalked out of the den, eyelids heavy with sleep. She yawned, each section of her maw going away from each other, revealing each and every one of her dirty yellow fangs. Mouth closed shut with a sharp snap, the she-cat smacking her lips, and silvered green gaze rested on the younger tom.
"Ah, Red. I see you've got the load. Nice job, nice job. Cummon, set it down and get yourself some prey. Ya deserve it."
She flashed him a toothy smile as he dropped the sticks, immediately scooting over to the small pile of food the two prepared, small cries of joy escaping his throat. Chuckling, amused as always by his overreactive behavior, she set out on rolling the sticks to the den.
It had originally been a small hole in a bush, but the she-cat had made it bigger by adding sticks and ripping off branches. When she was the only one who could fit, they could now both sleep inside the tiny den. Smiling to herself, she began her work, the tom, Red Needle, crying out in joy as he ran about after his meal. What a wonderful day.
"Vweeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! Me wanna play, me do! Play, Blank?"
Red had rolled over onto his back, and was now supporting himself with hi upside-down head. He gave her a silly grin, crimson paws waving about in the air, the puffy look to his pelt trampled and flattened after his constant rolling. Shaking her head, the old she-cat answered regretfully.
"Sorry, Red. Gotta finish my work first."
Seeing that she was sad about this, Red rolled back onto his stomach, heaved himelf to his paws and licked her cheek affectionately.
"Aww, that's okee. I'll go ta the River, keh?"
"Keh."
Knowing that she was happier now, Red set off, stumpy legs flying, vermilion fur flapping in the wind created by his run. He laughed out loud, happy to be alive, perfectly alive, and happy to have a friend. His new life in this world, after having found out he could not remember the things of before, would have been sad and miserable if he hadn't found her. Grinning to himself again out of pure contentment, he stopped in his tracks, deciding to eat the blackberries off a bush before continuing. It was a beautiful day for both of them.
Clan:
None.
Rank:
He's a loner.
Breed:
I would say Norwegian Forest Cat, though his pelt is quite different. Perhaps a Norwegian Forest/tabby mix?...
Personality:
The single word you could use to completely describe Red's entire personality is actually quite simple -
Insanity.
He's a complete raving maniacal feline. Hardly a thing about his actions is normal. On only one or two very rare occasions has he shown any sign of his being sane, and he probably didn't even do it on purpose.
There are many examples of this fact. For one, he talks to himself as if he had a companion right beside him, and answers his own questions or comments. His 'usual' side will always be quite amiable, while the other, the one he takes up when he replies, could be anything from suicidal to downright cruel. But he continues talking, keeping himself company in the meandering corridors of his twisted mind. Maybe this is because he misses the voice of the old she-cat who took care of him, misses the feelings he gets from talking to a real being, and so attempts to replace it all with his own monologues.
Another is that he sometimes thinks he's a squirrel. He runs up a tree at the mere sight of any predatory bird or animal, screaming 'runrunrun' to himself, perches on a branch and begins chitter-chattering as if his very life depended on it. Anycat would take it as an act, something he did to make others laugh, but the wavering look of complete fear in his strange yellow eyes and the tremors shaking his entire body, the raised hackles along his spine and the low, rumbling hiss in his throat. He would stay up there until all danger had disappeared, and then would clamber down head first, many times missing the last bit and landing on his already troubled head.
One last hint of his madness is that he chews on his tail, especially when he's nervous. He just nabs it, sticks it into his maw and chews it with gusto until all that is left of it is a soggy, bruised thing that looks as if it had been dragged through a thorn bush, dipped in mud and left out in the rain for three suns. He doesn't know why he does it. It's just one of those habits he had from the first sun he awoke and could remember nothing. One of those last vestiges of his past life.
And then there are a few things which would be put on the borderline. Not quite weird, but strange enough.
Red has an unusual liking for crickets. They are one of his most hunted prey, and give him enough excercise for him to drop of a few pounds. But he regains them afterwards anyway. He eats the little insects whole, and is often seen with a cricket leg hanging from the corner of his mouth.
He has an unreasonable fear of thunder, lightning, and anything to do with storms or rain for some reason. It must be because of a happening in his past life that has imprinted a strong enough mark in his decayed memory to have lasted as a few blurry pictures now and then. His intense hate for fire is another such thing. Whenever he sees a two-leg fire, he begins hissing and spitting like a cat at a fox. It would seem quite unnerving to cats around him, but it is perfectly natural to him.
And then there are the things which seem perfectly normal, but are quite a strange presence in a feline such as he. For one, he could be the clumsiest tom you've ever seen. He trips over his own paws, trips on his tail, trips on roots, trips on trees, trips on branches, trips on any obstacle that may have the bad luck to be in his path. But, taking it as perfectly as a cat would take a compliment, he gets right back on his paws and continues on, sure to trip once more a few steps away.
He's always lost and confused about something or other. His mind, muddled from all the falls he has taken, finds it hard to answer any question or find a solution to any predicament - except run, run, run.
Though fear and hate inhabit his portly body, Red also holds an endless affection for all he holds dear or knows. He would save your life for a simple smile, lay down his own time to have you be happy. He'd do anything, anything at all, and would trust you til the end. And that, actually, makes him quite a bit dangerous.
And then there is the matter of his curiosity. He's always curious, up to a point where he almost seems kittish and quite a bit stupid. However, he takes it as nicely as he takes his tripping, and it doesn't matter to him in the least.
History:
More than half of Red's life has been completely erased from his mind. He awoke one day and couldn't remember what had happened before, except for a few fleeting pictures in his confused mind.
Rain...
Falling, falling all around him. Wet. Rain is wet.
And fire.
The only things he truly knew about himself was that he was thirteen moons old and he wasn't a Clan cat. But he wasn't a rogue, either. He didn't even know StarClan existed. So you could have called him loner, even back then.
He set off immediately, looking for company. He tried making friends with a squirrel, two mice and even a vole, but they all got scared of him and ran away. So he had to wander, alone, so very alone, for two moons.
He met the old she-cat by the River. She was grooming herself, and hadn't noticed him creeping up to her side. But, for some strange reason, she wasn't at all surprised when Red pronounced a word of greeting.
"H'llo, ma'am."
"H'llo, young 'un."
Those two simple sentences were what started their friendship. The she-cat gave him a name, since he did not have one, honoring the state of his pelt. Red Needle. Quite a catchy and strange name. Red liked it immediately.
He lived with the other feline for two moons, before the she-cat died from old age. He grieved for her, but could do nothing except make her a grave, and so he did it. He left, regret heavy on his heart.
He's been wandering everywhere since then, amiable and talkative even with his insanity. For a few moons now, Red has been hanging around Windclan territory. Maybe he's thinking of joining his fellow cats once more, and creating a new beginning for himself.
Codewords:
Que tengas suerte, I do believe, and Masked. And, just to be sure, Zeik and The Ancient Ways. Please tell me if another code is somewhere, because I may have looked over it as I went over the modifications in the rules.
