Post by wolfindisguise on Dec 23, 2009 12:26:39 GMT -5
Name & Clan: Mercurystone ~ Crowclan
Age: about 18 moons
Gender: Male (Tom)
Allegiance: Crowclan
Rank: Warrior
Description: Mercurystone is a sleek black smoke. He is built very thin, and some would say too thin. His ribs are seen clearly through his thin pelt. He keeps his pelt very well groomed, spending nearly an hour a day on it, and it isn't fluffy at all. His fur is silky to the touch, and it's his pride and joy. Mercurystone's eyes are yellow colored and distictly almond shaped.
Personality: Mercurystone may be a beautiful cat, but his personality is anything but. He doesnt have many friends, as he keeps to himself most of the time. He goes by the saying: Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer. If he gets wind of anycat wanting to sully his reputation, he'll do his best to win them over, if only to keep an eye on them. He comes off as harsh and wintery, and even sometimes unusually calm. In his opinion, to show any great emotion is a sign of weakness, and therefore, he has plenty of pent up rage building inside of him. Mercurystone is very warlike, and would gladly join any battle (where he has no qualms about fighting dirty), as it is his only outlet. Just about the only thing stopping him from going on an all out killing spree is his heavy belief in StarClan.
History: Mercurystone grew up watching other family's kits get spoiled by their parents. He was raised by several queens, as his mother was mangled by a dog, and his father contracted a desease. One might think that being raised by more than one 'mother' would cause some extra spoiling, but Mercurykit never got much attention from any of them. They simply fed him, washed him, and protected him. Apparently, they thought that this was enough, but a kit needs love, which Mercurystone believes he never got. He's extreamly resentful of them, and blames them for everything that had gone wrong in his life, no matter how little. When he brought this up with them, they called him ungratefull, and they turned their backs on each other. Mercurystone has never talked to them since, and they have all died of different causes less than a moon apart. SOme might say it was Mercurystone who had a part in their deaths, but he did no such thing, he is a StarClan-fearing cat.
Relatives: No known relatives.
Other: Rp sample:
Murcurystone paced back and forth, his claws unsheathed and becoming more and more frayed with each step. He didn't care, he was beyond caring at the moment, and all he felt was a burning rage deep inside his belly.
He hated them, those wretched fools who suckled him. They watched him struggle to fit in, watched him bullied by the others. They ignored him when he told them of his dreams to become leader, the best one CrowClan ever knew. They told him to stop being a fool, those dreams were nothing but nonsence.
Murcurystone's face had contorted in a look of rage and, noticing this, he took a deep breath and made his expression impassive once again. Such displays of emotion were idiotic. The black smoke tom sat and licked his ruffled fur, which had been bristling. Grooming, he watched his surrogates sharing a peice of fresh-kill, only his yellow eyes betraying the hatred he felt for them.
Age: about 18 moons
Gender: Male (Tom)
Allegiance: Crowclan
Rank: Warrior
Description: Mercurystone is a sleek black smoke. He is built very thin, and some would say too thin. His ribs are seen clearly through his thin pelt. He keeps his pelt very well groomed, spending nearly an hour a day on it, and it isn't fluffy at all. His fur is silky to the touch, and it's his pride and joy. Mercurystone's eyes are yellow colored and distictly almond shaped.
Personality: Mercurystone may be a beautiful cat, but his personality is anything but. He doesnt have many friends, as he keeps to himself most of the time. He goes by the saying: Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer. If he gets wind of anycat wanting to sully his reputation, he'll do his best to win them over, if only to keep an eye on them. He comes off as harsh and wintery, and even sometimes unusually calm. In his opinion, to show any great emotion is a sign of weakness, and therefore, he has plenty of pent up rage building inside of him. Mercurystone is very warlike, and would gladly join any battle (where he has no qualms about fighting dirty), as it is his only outlet. Just about the only thing stopping him from going on an all out killing spree is his heavy belief in StarClan.
History: Mercurystone grew up watching other family's kits get spoiled by their parents. He was raised by several queens, as his mother was mangled by a dog, and his father contracted a desease. One might think that being raised by more than one 'mother' would cause some extra spoiling, but Mercurykit never got much attention from any of them. They simply fed him, washed him, and protected him. Apparently, they thought that this was enough, but a kit needs love, which Mercurystone believes he never got. He's extreamly resentful of them, and blames them for everything that had gone wrong in his life, no matter how little. When he brought this up with them, they called him ungratefull, and they turned their backs on each other. Mercurystone has never talked to them since, and they have all died of different causes less than a moon apart. SOme might say it was Mercurystone who had a part in their deaths, but he did no such thing, he is a StarClan-fearing cat.
Relatives: No known relatives.
Other: Rp sample:
Murcurystone paced back and forth, his claws unsheathed and becoming more and more frayed with each step. He didn't care, he was beyond caring at the moment, and all he felt was a burning rage deep inside his belly.
He hated them, those wretched fools who suckled him. They watched him struggle to fit in, watched him bullied by the others. They ignored him when he told them of his dreams to become leader, the best one CrowClan ever knew. They told him to stop being a fool, those dreams were nothing but nonsence.
Murcurystone's face had contorted in a look of rage and, noticing this, he took a deep breath and made his expression impassive once again. Such displays of emotion were idiotic. The black smoke tom sat and licked his ruffled fur, which had been bristling. Grooming, he watched his surrogates sharing a peice of fresh-kill, only his yellow eyes betraying the hatred he felt for them.
