Post by TRIP ! on Jan 19, 2012 7:15:30 GMT -5
blackfeather
she-cat, 39 moons, deputy, timberclan
she-cat, 39 moons, deputy, timberclan
appearance
Blackfeather's pelt has one distinct color: black. It is actually a quite russet shade, full of coppery hues when the sun can reach it. Her head is narrow with high cheek bones, her narrow eyes set just behind them. Like the rest of her body, her stripes are nearly non existent, though you can see the soft hints of silvery gray around her eyes and on her brow. The rims of her large, triangular ears are, however, a dark brown, while on the inside it’s a rusty red color. While Blackfeather doesn't take much pride in her pelt or fondle over it as some vain cats do, it is almost always neat and well-kept. You see, her fur is somewhat short and coarse very easily kept- 'low maintenance' perhaps?
As far as her eyes go, they are bi-colored - somewhat rare in black cats, but her father had them and so does she. One is dark, musty pine-needle green while the other is a dense shade of garnet. Nothing too extravagant there, but they are some what attractive, and in an almond shape. This she cat’s body isn’t muscular, but more of a rabbit-like shape. She isn’t quite tall, and on the petite side. Her muscles are nice and sinewy, rippling underneath her pelt with every step she takes. She was not built for being a buff tank like some felines are, but instead was formed as a hunter. Lean and quick footed, she can move at any speed, be it sprinting or brisk jogging. Her paws are, surprisingly enough, delicate and very much lady like.
personality
Blackfeather is, to say the least, an introverted she cat. Although she may seem full of herself and air headed, through her pretty appearance and the way she holds herself, she is reserved and almost shy. She isn’t the type to start conversations, though she is willing to listen. The she cat has a keen sense of right and wrong, especially when it comes to things she holds responsibility for. She has a clear devotion for duty, and tends to be punctual for everything.
To those who don’t truly know her, Blackfeather may come off as aloof, and somewhat cold. Emotional warmth is sort of a task for her, though she can force herself to do that, depending on the situation. She is perfectly comfortable with just the facts, and employs a step-by-step approach to many situations. Once a plan or procedure has been shown to work, then she will carry it, even at the expense of her own health. Blackfeather is, however, easily frustrated with the inconsistencies of others. Usually, though, she keeps her comments and feelings to herself unless asked. And when asked, she does not mince words. Truth over tact.
Sometimes, though, she is withdrawn from others. They do not interest her, I suppose. With Blackfeather, feelings are expressed non verbally, be it through eye contact, or an encouraging (or less then encouraging) smile. However, she tends to judge those before she truly gets to know them. Outsiders of the clan really ruffle her, and she shies away from those of other clans. Her clan is her, metaphorically speaking, family, and therefore familiar to her. New situations and different cats bother her, and throw her off her ‘schedule’. If challenged, she will fight whatever is threatening her.
She has a grim determination, followed by rules she follows every day that are listed in her head. Foreign ideas and oddities never before seen are bizarre to her, and almost instantaneously she will deny them, perhaps not out loud but still. Mentioning weird things—love is on the top five of strange subjects for her. She has never experienced the ‘butterflies in her stomach’, nor understood why anyone would become lovesick when they were bound to mate with another after their litter. It’s all very silly.
history
Blackkit was born into a family of a disinterested father and a young mother. Gingerfrost--having been an apprentice just a few moons ago--was clumsy and nearly squished her daughter several times. Ripplestream, bless his corrupted heart, found his spawn to be too small for any use, and never visited her, despite her wails. Eventually, she was brought up by another queen, but the damage from lack of attention had already been done. Blackkit rarely played with the other kits, and refused to be touched. Instead, she sat outside, either staring out into space or, if at night, looking up at StarClan. She was a perplexing child, and many rumors spread that she'd snap one day and turn into her father. They were half correct. As an apprentice, Blackpaw was put on the path of becoming him--he was her mentor.
Ripplestream was big to begin with, and Blackpaw was small. It was like staring up at the biggest tree anyone could find. The training was nearly unbearable at first. The constant running back and forth over the territory, striking rocks with her claws until they bled, and being forced into the river whenever it was at its highest level. But she never had to fight him. At least, until she was ready. Or he thought she was ready. And that day came. It was a couple of days before her assessment, and she was pretty strong for such a she-cat. Now, instead of a curious looking kit, Blackpaw had become a cold looking apprentice, and refused to talk to anyone.
That day she could remember vividly. It was about to rain. The skies were dark with clouds looming overhead. She felt chills run through her. Ripplestream stood before her. They charged, rolling in a ball of claws and fangs. It was a bloody mess. Finally, it came to an abrupt end. They had rolled close to the river, and it was at a high level again. She used her hind legs to push her father off and he went into the water. He had been bleeding bad already. He never came up. Blackpaw was made into Blackfeather just a couple days after. No one questioned her. No one asked where that horrid beast had gone off to. But from the small glint in her eye, you could tell. But it wasn't happiness. It was a sort of complete feeling. She had overcome her father, and in a way overcame herself. Blackfeather was here now, and she vowed to be a warrior of great strength. For her own sake.
sample
Nightpaw.
She froze, her eyes widening. No one called her that anymore. She was a warrior- a deputy. No one--
"Eaglepaw!?" It was him. The tom that somehow managed to steal her away. Quickly, she turned around, her legs quivering. There he was, at least a larger version of the apprentice she used to know. "Wh-what..What happened to your face?" A sharp chill struck her, and she took a hesitant step forward. Then, everything came rushing back. Their first encounter. She had been doing laps with her father again. He went off to catch a rabbit he had spotted, and Nightpaw wanted to explore as much as she could without him catching her; and she had managed to find Eaglepaw, wandering just as she was. Or at least she thought so. Regardless, it was an awkward conversation, as they were both young cats with no social lives. Far more interested in things that did not pertain to others, it would seem. She loved him immediately. Well, she declared it nothing more than an acquaintanceship, but it was a crush. Then came the ever blinding love that led to nothing but arguments and stillborn kits.
"Where did you go? Why...Why didn't you come back here?" She started to ramble, shaking her head and lashing her tail. "You were my only friend." Looking away, Nightfall tried to turn around. Tried to leave. But she just ended up turning back to him and trotting close, shoving her head against his chest. "You mouse-brain." The tom was warm, and she rubbed herself over him. Screw the fights, the arguments. The declarations of whose fault it was. Then, she pulled herself away, realizing what she was doing. She was a deputy, for StarClan's sake! This wasn't supposed to be happening. She was a firm, dedicated she-cat! No time for love. But--
But her Eaglepaw was back.
other
I haven't used this character in a while C:
it took FOR-EV-ER to find her bio.
and the rp sample.