Post by ---d e a t h p a w || on Sept 13, 2011 17:52:19 GMT -5
Deathfate
[/blockquote][/blockquote]names: Deathkit//Deathpaw//Deathfate
gender: she-cat
age: five and three-quarter moons
clan: ThunderClan
rank: Kit
personality: This tiny black kit has a lot to make up for in size rather than personality, for one being an actress, it's hard work sometimes.
Bold,1. not hesitating or fearful in the face of actual or possible danger or rebuff; courageous and daring.
2. not hesitating to break the rules of propriety; forward; impudent
Deathkit is the one you want to challenge in a contest --that is, if you actually want a challenge. She is tough for her slim figure and can be fearless in the heat of danger. She loves danger, and is much of a rule-breaker. Though, she isn't far above herself that she would rush into a battle unprepared. She knows her own limits, however much she hates them. And something would have to be severely precarious for her not to undertake the task.
Stubborn,1. fixed or set in purpose or opinion; resolute
2. difficult to manage or suppress
Easy to image, as she is prideful, she is edgy around what would make her loose her pride, thus making her absolutely stubborn. Her stubbornness tends to get a little out of hand sometimes. Like-so, a lasting fight, she would still continue to give the 'cold-shoulder' to the person, just because that would mean she had caved in, if she decided to be nice --ridiculous things like that. Also consisting of changing one's mind.
Logical,1. reasoning in accordance with the principles of logic, as a person or the mind
2. capable of or characterized by clear or valid reasoning
She will not be sure of anything unless logical facts deem something absolutely possible. This limits her adventurousness and stubbornness to a degree; but she can also be a bit of a hypocrite to this claim. She likes to know exactly how everything is made or consist of --though not openly. If something wasn't logical, or didn't have the slightest logical agreement, she would break down completely.
Inconsiderate,1. without due regard for the rights or feelings of others
2. overhasty; rash; ill-considered
Not entirely, but unconsciously, she can be a little too honest. She goes about everything with 'their aura' and she has gotten it into her mind that someone should know if they 'really suck'. She isn't like this at all times, but can be like this occasionally [and that's if your character really sucks :3].
Lonesome,1. depressed or sad because of the lack of friends, companionship, etc.
2. lonely or deserted in situation; remote, desolate, or isolated
The usually upbeat kitty, can get a little lonesome, which would be an understatement. If she feels lonely or un-cared for, she goes into a state where she won't talk to anyone and would refuse to eat.
Closed,1. (of the mind) to make imperceptive or inaccessible
2. self-contained; independent or self-sufficient
She's normal right? I mean, all these attributes, she has to be normal! Right?! No. Obviously, no. Deathkit is an excellent actress, and it is quite easy for her hide any of her true feelings or emotions. Only few can penetrate her black hole of a mind.
Decoy,1. a cat by which Cricket named unto which degree is captive by the insanity of greed and dark dreams.
2. basically, an evil cat.
Pretty much describes her. She's cold and ruthless and won't hesitate to kill. She never loved her clan, how ever much she stays loyal to it. She will sink low enough to kill a cat in cold blood, but her moves are sneaky and discreet. She would even go along with another cat as his/her 'follower'; but they better watch out when she finds the perfect chance.
appearance: Deathkit is a glossy black she-cat, from the tip of her tail, to the end of her whisker, she is as black as night with a new moon. One cannot say that there isn't any shading done to her, but it is hard to see, for her pelt blends in well with mixtures and ranging of black. As some would say that one could see a starry sky, a good representation of her pelt, I would have to disagree. Her pelt is more of a black hole's, forever pitching into silence. Only one tuft of hair is different from the never ending black. A small spot on her chest is the only thing that breaks the 'silence'.
Her eyes may seem unlikely to place equally and as a normal cat. Her eyes are a varying shade of purple, for they can be described as stars, they glow like a hot fire, not warming, but cold and dark for the most part. Openly, she really cannot tell if she likes or dislikes her eye colour, for they are mutually different; but inwardly, she hates it and judges it as too girlie.
She is a small and lanky, pretty little thing, not one to be said to look like she could battle a lion, much less one of her denmates, as they outsize her deeply. She is small, very small, at the age of even eight moons, one might mistake her for a kit. One wouldn't even think of her heading for them straight on, and she wouldn't, for fear of being crushed.
Her hind legs are what make up the most part of her. It makes it easy to swim, hunt, and jump. Preferably jumping
history: Whisperkit. That was her first name. Whisperkit. It was soft and undoubtedly fit her entirely to all those who knew her. She had two sisters, Mothkit and Yellowkit. She, being the runt of the litter, was doted on a lot by her mother, and in return, was shunned by her sisters for their lack of attention. Now, her mother was the type to care for any cat that was poor and helpless. She would care for the cat over any other healthy cat and would remain loyal to them until they were well enough to live by themselves; and then she forgot about them, moving on to another helpless creature. The day Whisperkit was born, her mother found her the weakest, and immediately spoiled her with special treats. It was Whisperkit this and Whisperkit that. And to say that her sisters were all understanding would be a downright lie. No. Her sisters were consumed by jealousy by her attention. And as they were not past the point of plotting some way to get rid of her, they quickly thought up a plan.
Two moons later, they called Whisperkit out to play with them. Excited that she was finally being noticed by her sisters, she obliged and they flew down to the ShadowClan border together; but, her sisters' plan did not go accordingly. As they crossed into enemy territory, they were met by a patrol. Or what they thought was a ShadowClan patrol --but it was odd, there was only two cats, and they smelled different then their surroundings; but the kits didn't give it too much thought. Pitifully, they pleaded to the 'ShadowClan' cats to let them go, but the cats didn't see it that way. They wanted to have some fun.
The big tabby, his paws a strikingly familiar white, put his paws on her eldest sister. Whisperkit watched calmly, as the tom tore her sisters apart slowly, guts hanging out of their ripped belly, bones twisted the wrong way, blood dripping into her face. And all she did was watch, as calm as if she were watching a ladybug hop from leaf to leaf. As the cat then neared her, she didn't flinch, only calmly blinked her eyes.
As the cat asked what the mousetails was wrong with her, she simply replied, "In my life, I have not experienced anything so exhilarating." And with that, she quietly turned around and marched back to camp.
As she entered the den, it was only to step into a pool of blood --her mother's and the other queens'. Apparently, the second cat with the tom with the white paws had come to 'have some more fun'. Suddenly, in her mind, it clicked. Yes, she didn't mind this kind of stuff, or particularly not like it, but others would see differently and outcast her. Perhaps she would feel much better if she did something like this too, just plan it carefully and at the right time. A regular kit would be screaming right? With that, she wailed and raced around camp, most likely waking every cat in a mile's radius up.
All pitied her but the old medicine cat. He knew what she had done, and later that night, he spoke to their leader, and her name was changed to Deathkit --the only reason why, was because of an omen he had and that was why her family died. He said nothing else, and died a short while later.
sample rp:
I was at center stage now, the spotlight --the all becoming. Oh, dear, what to do, what to do. Urg, how I hated the spotlight. I was built for the shadows and not the light. The center of attention just didn't suit me well. Sure, I liked dramatic entrances and a little bit of a role --but the main character? Please. Think of it as a play. You have the main protagonist, the spotlight, either everyone loves them, or everyone hates them --an either, or, just really doesn't fit there. Then you have the sub-character. You know, the one that the guy fights against, or the guy helping the spotlight. He's not the brightest star, but he's the second. Then you have the townsfolk, or the filling background characters, who play no specific part what-so-ever. Finally, and then there's me; the one person excluded from the 'townsfolk' or chorus background group. I play the part of the one-lined character. The character was necessary to the plot, but appeared once. She had one line, one seemingly eternal line to shine --and she would be sure to use it well.
So that was my role, in this game. The one necessary accessory. Hey, I'm not the one to complain though. I would play my job well. Life was a game, was it not? All these twists in turns were like the putting together of a puzzle. You didn't know the real picture until it was completed --typical. I mean sure, you could figure out the general idea time from time, but sometimes there was a piece missing and what were you supposed to do then? Yup, that's my job, fill in that stupid piece. It was time to do my job.
Okay, yes, I am a skin walker, and skin walkers are known to be, well, not on the bright side or the nicer side of the game; life. Keh, I was the two percent that could be considered neutral --I didn't pick sides easily. I did my best to survive and all that crap, and then moved on to the next step as quickly as I could. I was just the pawn in the game, not the king, or even the queen. My life had no purpose to one in itself. Give me a piece of clay and tell me to mold it into something? Hell no. I couldn't do that, or nothing worth keeping, likewise; but tell me to fix this person's life, bleh, I would have to do it, it was how I convinced myself that I was useful here. Urg, but things didn't always go as planned sometimes. I can remember this one time, where I tried to help this poor pathetic human with fourteen burns on her stomach. Her tribe tried to kill me after I pretty much healed her and fed her. Geez, I've got to say that really pissed me off. Though, I heard that she was living happily anyway --wow, great for her, big woop.
Now I, once again, was faced off into two similar choices. Should I help the two, or shoot them? I looked the jaguar in the face, and my eyes narrowed with concentration. She seemed like the kind to get rid of, there was something about her that screamed 'kill me now' it was my instinct, and I couldn't hesitate on it, there was also something else, but I didn't feel like searching anymore. To tell the truth, I was tired a bit from traveling, and all I really wanted was a nice midnight rest for a bid --common, can't at least a pawn get that much respect? I hoisted my bow up, it wasn't a really strong bow, and it was one of the worsts I could choose. I sighed, I guess you could say I was really lacking some serious concentration today. I notched another arrow, this one with a poisoned barb, and let it fly.
Oh shit. That I guess you could say, was the first thing that came to my mind. Well I'll be damned, the sense that I had about the freaking jaguar was something else entirely from the 'kill me now' that I had see before. Urg, did it have to be this one? Whatever I had seen before, I reflected on now, as all the stupid puzzle pieces came together, right before it was about to die. Damn. What I saw, was none other than purpose. Purpose. Unlike my many other foes who had nothing in their life, and had the aura around them that screamed 'die!' this one had to have the stupid purpose. It was a split second thought, the blood rushing to my head --and I did the practical. I sprinted after the arrow, my feet light. I caught it a foot before the jaguar's maw, and I stood cautiously, for I was much closer than I would have liked.
Urgency was in the mind's eye as I backed up and did the stupidest thing and turned my back on the enemy. Yeah, I know, but hey, I was pretty convinced that she wasn't going to kill me --of course there are a lot worse things than killing. Oh well, woe is me if I get attacked, eh? Slowly, I walked over to my bag and stash of weapons and necessities. I caught the woman's movement out of the corner of my eye. Do you have a place to stay tonight,...miss? I was trying to be nice, but I just wasn't buying my act, open hostility coated my voice. Urg, I wasn't doing this because I wanted to. Or, are you the women that lives in the shroud a few miles down? You know, the one next to the lake? Alright, now I was very much indeed failing at trying to be nice, and I raised my hands and let them drop quickly in a gesture of exasperation. Oh, whatever, just at least let me give you a knife, I rolled my eyes.
I gathered up my things, Hey, you, jaguar girl, why are you out over here anyway? Smalltalk, my feeble, failing attempt at conversation....
characters: Deathkit.
c-box name: Evєиιиg
