Post by splashtana ★ on Jun 14, 2013 5:36:28 GMT -5
Name: Sweetkit--Sweetpaw--Sweetleaf
Reason for name:
Gender: Female
Age: 18 Moons
Position: Medicine Cat
Clan: WindClan
Breakdown of abilities and weaknesses:
Appearance: What if one were to, oh I don't know, take a plain white sheet of canvas and splatter it with all the colors found on a tortoiseshell's pelt? Whites, browns, gingers, blacks, the works. It would be really interesting to hang on a wall, but it would do much better as a cover to a small, lean, and delicate set of polished, ivory hued bones. A very feminine feline's frame, the build of Sweetleaf. So, what is missing? You have her frame, her pelt, but alas she has no eyes. How can one survive without optics? They are needed. For her eyes, I'd suggest a pretty hue of baby blue. Baby blue doe eyes, flecked with silver, perfect in every aspect, can be found centered very nicely over her white muzzle. Now, this is not meant to be a Mary Sue bio. It's just that Sweetleaf's main center of attention is her eyes. They're larger than most eyes found on felines, and they have an odd color that most felines only dream of having. The rest of her? Not out of the ordinary. She's small, but so are most WindClan cats, even though she wasn't exactly fully born a WindClanner. But that does not have to do with appearance, now does it? Overall, Sweetleaf can be considered pretty, but she's honestly not much out of the ordinary swing of things found in the world.
Severity and Breakdown of Adaptations:
--Small and delicate build
--Medium-length fur
--Larger than normal "doe" eyes
--Clawless right forepaw
Personality: She's normal to be honest. Nothing out of the ordinary, by medicine cat standards. To warriors? Sweetleaf, often just called Sweetie by her close friends, is awkward. Clumsy, even, as she's not exactly the bravest of cats. Flighty, can't keep focus half the time, and a nervous wreck, the poor little belle, but she makes her life work out for her. Very well, to be honest, but she really can be a clumsy little klutz most of the time. So, you'd expect her den to be quite unorganized and messed up? Well, you thought wrong. Sweetleaf has obsessive compulsive disorder, or OCD, meaning everything needs to be perfect, organized, and in its proper place or she'll have a breakdown. A meltdown, and it isn't pretty. Basically, the poor thing's heart will break from stress. Her heart? It's fragile, meaning she's sensitive and can't help getting hurt easily. Though, she tries to keep a good composure when she's upset, and hides how she's truly feeling most of the time. I mean, overall, she's a pretty good little girl. Innocent, gentle, and quite the smart little thing when it comes to flowers. Leaves, berries, flowers, roots, herbs, healing. Her area of expertise. Any cat would be ridiculous not to trust Sweetleaf with their life, because she's honest, loyal, and quite the companion.
Specific moral Values:
--Loyalty and honesty comes first
--Weak-hearted, but good at concealing emotions
--Smart at anything that has to do with healing and plants
--A pathetic excuse for a warrior
--Extremely clumsy
--Has mild-severe OCD
Relationships: Forbidden.
History: below c:
Timeline:
Kithood
Apprenticeship
Warrior life
Featured in: nothing at the moment, but I'll have some art up as soon as my tablet finishes being a butt.
Assignments:
Extra: Suffers from anorexia.
Writing Sample:
And everyone thought he was one to be quiet, proper, and that little teacher's pet he used to be. Key phrase. He used to be like that, but he had promised himself that was done. Living in that perfect world of his, his aristocratic paradise, he'd learned nothing at all. In fact, he couldn't go back to it even if he wanted to do so. Photoflash, Lanijay, and Rangerstar had all gone in and ruined it for him. His sisters had also gone in and ruined things for him as well, causing the petite tom feline to rage quit from it all. Even cut the ties from his boyfriend. Rockpaw. Oh god, he honestly just couldn't. Thinking about the one he loved, even though he had been considered weird and awkward for being homosexual, the lithe snow bengal tom with those dazzling, feminine, periwinkle doe eyes, had loved that other tom with everything he had to offer. Names didn't hurt, nothing hurt, when you were that deeply in love with another. Though, he wasn't gay. He was pansexual, more or less demisexual, seeing as he'd had a deep emotional connection with Rockpaw before they started dating. Now, the reason they broke up? They shared something. Their love for an aristocratic population. The perfect harmony in their own little world. Democracy, politicians, and peace. Not one sole ruler, but a panel, and everything to around with it. Philosophy, mathematics, sciences, and knowing the history of all of the clans. Rather than only RiverClan and SkyClan, their own personal homes, they had studied everything. All of them, seeing as he'd known lots about RiverClan, SunClan, and BloodClan right from the get go. After all, he'd been born in SunClan to a RiverClan mother and BloodClan father. But he'd broken up with Rockpaw to get away from his former views. It hurt, but it was for the better. Or so he hoped.
Fleeing was going to be harder. No, he couldn't stay in his beloved home anymore. It was no longer a safe haven. SunClan was full of those suicidal she-cats, and the home of his children. His selectively bred and aristocratic children. Their mother? Redslippers, the medic there. He'd worked hard with them, but when his world crumbled he sent them away. The snow bengal didn't want to ever see them again. They'd been cast away from him, forever. So, his birth clan was out. BloodClan wouldn't suit him either. All of his notable relations were gone now. Navyseal, the ex-deputy of BloodClan, had been demoted then lost to a suicide so she could be with her first lover, the one who had turned her into a slut, Jarrahwhistle. Man, that must have sucked for Blackbird and Emptyvial. For everyone, even his father. Thinking about Flashflood made him shudder, but he suppressed a sob and pushed the thoughts away, instead unsheathing his thorn sharp ivory claws, raking them with lightning-fast ease over his right foreleg. Feeling the emotions subside, the ten moon old tom sighed, relaxing slightly. Blackbird, his grandfather, had been demoted as well. So, nothing much was in BloodClan for him to go after. SkyClan and Rockpaw. With a single tear falling from the sides of each of his handsome, dazzling, and gorgeous doe eyes, the tom lowered his head, and with a shriek of pure rage, he looked to the sky and screeched, everything coming out. The tears followed the wet paths down his cheeks, lingering on his maw for only moments before dropping down and splashing on his alabaster paws. Splashing down with the blood of his self-induced wounds on his right foreleg, the two liquid substances mingled together. Dripping on past his dewy claws, leaving crimson stains mixed with the handsome hue of his pelt, it was clear he was a wreck. With a final wail from the deepest pits of his soul, he lifted his claws and slashed them over his nose. He would be scarred. Forever. The perfect complexion, symmetry, and everything about his perfection was gone. And so was the cat that so many used to know before the fall of his own hidden world.
Figuring the fits were over and it would be okay, he closed his eyes, allowing himself to breathe deeply for a moment. Wanting nothing more than to just go ahead and join StarClan right that moment, the young troubled thing shook his head and sighed softly, eyes fluttering themselves between open and shut states, clearing his eyes, tears dissolving, and everything about them returning as usual. Noticing that he wasn't sitting anymore, and that instead he was now by the border between RiverClan and HawkClan, he tentatively set one paw over it. Looking behind him, he surveyed his home for one last time. The birches, willows, river, and the homey look to all of it. It wasn't home anymore, it couldn't be home anymore. He was a stranger to it now, and it was a new place. There was no way he would be an intruder to HawkClan cats. He was an intruder to RiverClan. He was an intruder to himself. A stranger. Mother had always said it. Don't talk to strangers. That was his sleep song. With a final glance to the foreign landscape, the tom pulled himself entirely over the border, and sprinted for the cover of the pines in this new land. Because he would never return to there again. Because he was here in HawkClan now. Because he wasn't Snowpaw anymore.
He was Infinite.
How did you find us?: Advertisement
[/sub][/center]Reason for name:
Gender: Female
Age: 18 Moons
Position: Medicine Cat
Clan: WindClan
Breakdown of abilities and weaknesses:
- Speed: 3/5
- Stamina: 3/5
- Physical Strength: 2/5
- Mental Strength: 4/5
Appearance: What if one were to, oh I don't know, take a plain white sheet of canvas and splatter it with all the colors found on a tortoiseshell's pelt? Whites, browns, gingers, blacks, the works. It would be really interesting to hang on a wall, but it would do much better as a cover to a small, lean, and delicate set of polished, ivory hued bones. A very feminine feline's frame, the build of Sweetleaf. So, what is missing? You have her frame, her pelt, but alas she has no eyes. How can one survive without optics? They are needed. For her eyes, I'd suggest a pretty hue of baby blue. Baby blue doe eyes, flecked with silver, perfect in every aspect, can be found centered very nicely over her white muzzle. Now, this is not meant to be a Mary Sue bio. It's just that Sweetleaf's main center of attention is her eyes. They're larger than most eyes found on felines, and they have an odd color that most felines only dream of having. The rest of her? Not out of the ordinary. She's small, but so are most WindClan cats, even though she wasn't exactly fully born a WindClanner. But that does not have to do with appearance, now does it? Overall, Sweetleaf can be considered pretty, but she's honestly not much out of the ordinary swing of things found in the world.
Severity and Breakdown of Adaptations:
--Small and delicate build
--Medium-length fur
--Larger than normal "doe" eyes
--Clawless right forepaw
Personality: She's normal to be honest. Nothing out of the ordinary, by medicine cat standards. To warriors? Sweetleaf, often just called Sweetie by her close friends, is awkward. Clumsy, even, as she's not exactly the bravest of cats. Flighty, can't keep focus half the time, and a nervous wreck, the poor little belle, but she makes her life work out for her. Very well, to be honest, but she really can be a clumsy little klutz most of the time. So, you'd expect her den to be quite unorganized and messed up? Well, you thought wrong. Sweetleaf has obsessive compulsive disorder, or OCD, meaning everything needs to be perfect, organized, and in its proper place or she'll have a breakdown. A meltdown, and it isn't pretty. Basically, the poor thing's heart will break from stress. Her heart? It's fragile, meaning she's sensitive and can't help getting hurt easily. Though, she tries to keep a good composure when she's upset, and hides how she's truly feeling most of the time. I mean, overall, she's a pretty good little girl. Innocent, gentle, and quite the smart little thing when it comes to flowers. Leaves, berries, flowers, roots, herbs, healing. Her area of expertise. Any cat would be ridiculous not to trust Sweetleaf with their life, because she's honest, loyal, and quite the companion.
Specific moral Values:
--Loyalty and honesty comes first
--Weak-hearted, but good at concealing emotions
--Smart at anything that has to do with healing and plants
--A pathetic excuse for a warrior
--Extremely clumsy
--Has mild-severe OCD
Relationships: Forbidden.
History: below c:
Timeline:
Kithood
- Born to a WindClan mother and a kittypet father.
- When her littermates and mother died, father took her to his home.
- Her father died and she ran away, found RiverClan.
Apprenticeship
- Started her training in RiverClan.
- Nearly drowned, and was washed away to WindClan.
- Joined WindClan, met her half-siblings, but did not know it was them.
Warrior life
- Failed at hunting and fighting.
- Had her claws in her right forepaw ripped out in a battle.
- Basically couldn't do anything warriors were supposed to do right.
Featured in: nothing at the moment, but I'll have some art up as soon as my tablet finishes being a butt.
Assignments:
Extra: Suffers from anorexia.
Writing Sample:
And everyone thought he was one to be quiet, proper, and that little teacher's pet he used to be. Key phrase. He used to be like that, but he had promised himself that was done. Living in that perfect world of his, his aristocratic paradise, he'd learned nothing at all. In fact, he couldn't go back to it even if he wanted to do so. Photoflash, Lanijay, and Rangerstar had all gone in and ruined it for him. His sisters had also gone in and ruined things for him as well, causing the petite tom feline to rage quit from it all. Even cut the ties from his boyfriend. Rockpaw. Oh god, he honestly just couldn't. Thinking about the one he loved, even though he had been considered weird and awkward for being homosexual, the lithe snow bengal tom with those dazzling, feminine, periwinkle doe eyes, had loved that other tom with everything he had to offer. Names didn't hurt, nothing hurt, when you were that deeply in love with another. Though, he wasn't gay. He was pansexual, more or less demisexual, seeing as he'd had a deep emotional connection with Rockpaw before they started dating. Now, the reason they broke up? They shared something. Their love for an aristocratic population. The perfect harmony in their own little world. Democracy, politicians, and peace. Not one sole ruler, but a panel, and everything to around with it. Philosophy, mathematics, sciences, and knowing the history of all of the clans. Rather than only RiverClan and SkyClan, their own personal homes, they had studied everything. All of them, seeing as he'd known lots about RiverClan, SunClan, and BloodClan right from the get go. After all, he'd been born in SunClan to a RiverClan mother and BloodClan father. But he'd broken up with Rockpaw to get away from his former views. It hurt, but it was for the better. Or so he hoped.
Fleeing was going to be harder. No, he couldn't stay in his beloved home anymore. It was no longer a safe haven. SunClan was full of those suicidal she-cats, and the home of his children. His selectively bred and aristocratic children. Their mother? Redslippers, the medic there. He'd worked hard with them, but when his world crumbled he sent them away. The snow bengal didn't want to ever see them again. They'd been cast away from him, forever. So, his birth clan was out. BloodClan wouldn't suit him either. All of his notable relations were gone now. Navyseal, the ex-deputy of BloodClan, had been demoted then lost to a suicide so she could be with her first lover, the one who had turned her into a slut, Jarrahwhistle. Man, that must have sucked for Blackbird and Emptyvial. For everyone, even his father. Thinking about Flashflood made him shudder, but he suppressed a sob and pushed the thoughts away, instead unsheathing his thorn sharp ivory claws, raking them with lightning-fast ease over his right foreleg. Feeling the emotions subside, the ten moon old tom sighed, relaxing slightly. Blackbird, his grandfather, had been demoted as well. So, nothing much was in BloodClan for him to go after. SkyClan and Rockpaw. With a single tear falling from the sides of each of his handsome, dazzling, and gorgeous doe eyes, the tom lowered his head, and with a shriek of pure rage, he looked to the sky and screeched, everything coming out. The tears followed the wet paths down his cheeks, lingering on his maw for only moments before dropping down and splashing on his alabaster paws. Splashing down with the blood of his self-induced wounds on his right foreleg, the two liquid substances mingled together. Dripping on past his dewy claws, leaving crimson stains mixed with the handsome hue of his pelt, it was clear he was a wreck. With a final wail from the deepest pits of his soul, he lifted his claws and slashed them over his nose. He would be scarred. Forever. The perfect complexion, symmetry, and everything about his perfection was gone. And so was the cat that so many used to know before the fall of his own hidden world.
Figuring the fits were over and it would be okay, he closed his eyes, allowing himself to breathe deeply for a moment. Wanting nothing more than to just go ahead and join StarClan right that moment, the young troubled thing shook his head and sighed softly, eyes fluttering themselves between open and shut states, clearing his eyes, tears dissolving, and everything about them returning as usual. Noticing that he wasn't sitting anymore, and that instead he was now by the border between RiverClan and HawkClan, he tentatively set one paw over it. Looking behind him, he surveyed his home for one last time. The birches, willows, river, and the homey look to all of it. It wasn't home anymore, it couldn't be home anymore. He was a stranger to it now, and it was a new place. There was no way he would be an intruder to HawkClan cats. He was an intruder to RiverClan. He was an intruder to himself. A stranger. Mother had always said it. Don't talk to strangers. That was his sleep song. With a final glance to the foreign landscape, the tom pulled himself entirely over the border, and sprinted for the cover of the pines in this new land. Because he would never return to there again. Because he was here in HawkClan now. Because he wasn't Snowpaw anymore.
He was Infinite.
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