Post by readysetdeath on Feb 20, 2017 20:19:48 GMT -5
Username: ReadySetDeath
Name: Boulderpath
Age: 29 moons
Rank: Warrior
Gender: Male
Personality: Boulderpath is a pensive cat, seeming to think to much before he speaks, and lacking a lot of the passion for strength, fighting, and brawn that seems to come naturally to most of his Clanmates. It's not that he doesn't like it, he just...appreciates it in a different way. He values thinking over brash action, and learned how to fit into the rather militaristic society the only way he could: shut up and listen. He keeps his head down, does what he's told, and does his best to get into the gung-ho mindset of his clanmates. He's wistful, though, always seeking out stories from RiverClan at the gatherings and far too interested in Seer things to be a good, strong warrior. So, he keeps a lot of it a secret, confining most dreams to his head, and works hard. He doesn't expect to ever rise to the rank of deputy, but that's ok, he has enough thoughts to last him more than ten lifetimes. If he sees something he doesn't agree with, which isn't as rare as he'd like, he keeps silent, always watching, always learning, always teaching. It's this perceived patience that earned him his warrior name of "-path", the willingness to listen and wait far too patiently to speak up if he has anything to say at all (he'd heard they'r been considering the "-face" suffix for him, but he knew what that meant, and he really didn't want that kind of connotation or attention). He follows orders well, but keeps a lot of his feelings bottled up; a rather unhealthy habit, he knows, but it's his only way of survival. He dreams of training an apprentice, hopefully two, and really just wants to fall in love and start a family (is that too much to ask?) - in a world dominated by prey counts and fighting skills, almost senseless patrols and order day in and day out, it's the only way his wandering mind thinks will matter after he's gone. There's gotta be more to life than just...hunts and border patrols, right? Maybe he should have been a Seer, but he knows that he would have been crap at it. At least hunting and tactics are something he understands, but he can't bring himself to be proud about it. Maybe that's why he has time to come up with new tactics, has time to think through and practice; he's not concerned with the Clan hierarchy of skill and boasting all the time, something he can be looked down on for at times. Still, there's no doubt his patience and skill with younger cats is practically un-matchable. He just hopes he'll be able to make a difference before the constant droning on of patrols drive him insane. He's got a pretty good handle on his emotions, he can keep most of his wants and needs bottled up pretty much forever, right?
Detailed Appearance: Boulderpath is large, so around average for a ThunderClan cat, leaning slightly to the larger side. He was larger as a kit than he is now, however, contributing to his prefix of "Boulder-". His pelt is dusty brown in color, and his eyes are a knowing burnt orange, always seeming to see more than they let on. His hing legs are shaped and powerful, as expected, and his tail is almost blac at the tip, dark rings running up the length of both his tail and legs (slightly darker on his hind legs than his front, think a brown-black as opposed to dark brown). He had three stripes running across the top of his back, and a few more on each side; the stripes are present on his face as well. The inside of his ears are white, and so are the undersides of his paws, and his fur is sleek and glossy (not too thick for a ThunderCaln cat, but certainly not thin).
Picture: N/A
History: Boulderpaw grew up fairly normally. He was the oldest of a litter of two, with one younger sister, and he was always more fond of watching than doing. He didn't mind doing, but only after he watched, and participated just enough in the rowdiness of kit life to avoid causing his mother or other Clan members worry. He was terrible at play fights at first, but started to excel at them about a moon before and during his apprentice training, always thinking of new ways and tactics to use to keep his Clanmates on his toes. He didn't have a perfect win record, far from it; but his training mates were far too predictable and he quickly became a rather respected fighter. His heart was always in other places, however, not just in the brawn, and his fighting prowess (while still very much there) has declined from the status it used to be as his clan members practiced avidly far more than him. he's far more interested in the art of fighting, the different theories and strategy and styles behind it rather than the actual fight itself, and found himself wanting to teach it to others before he even finished his training and earned his warrior name. He's wanted kits since as long as he could remember, and always found himself doting on the queens slightly more than necessary (a favorite of theirs, you could say). But for now, he'd just hope for an apprentice and pray for the best.
Roleplay Sample:
Boulderpath got ready to head out on patrol, emerging from the warriors den as he shook out his fur after his nap. At least today was warm, the wind chill from yesterday had been terrible. It was too early in leaf-fall for this.
His eyes scanned the camp, lingering over the fresh-kill pile for a bit before moving over to a group of warriors talking in the sun. He could see the little dark markings on the underside of some of the s' bellies; he noticed that a lot of the mice near the ShadowClan border had gotten them recently. He shouldn't be too concerned about that, right? But still, what if they were carrying some weird disease...at any rate, there'd been a lot of them recently, so disease or not, he should avoid that area in order to make sure the mice population near there didn't die out too quickly. If they were diseased, then he hoped ShadowClan would eat them all before they did.
His wandering gaze finally rested on two kits sparring in the clearing. They were old, almost old enough to be apprentices; it wouldn't be longer than a moon at most before they started their training. His tail swished behind him as he studied their moves, watching as the tabby avoided the tom's swipe, jumping backwards out of the way as she got ready to retaliate. Her strike landed well, hitting the male's shoulder firmly as he raised up to meet her, paws outstretched as he knocked her over and pinned her to the ground. Here, he had won, but in a real fight, it all would have depended on the severity of the shoulder wound. There was a rather advanced trick he'd been perfecting where she could have used his own lunge and weight to turn as they fell so that he was pinned to the ground instead, but then again, that technique was most effective against the heavy ThunderClan cats. All of his tactics seemed to be most useful against a big, strong ally - maybe it was because all he did was watch his Clanmates spar. They probably did it too much.
"That was good," he said, smiling lightly as he padded over to the two, turning to address the wide-eyed tabby. "Gingerkit, next time you rear up on your hind legs like that, try turning your back foot out to the side, like this," he said, showing her the motion with his front paw. "I like to call it 'turning out'. It helps you keep your balance," he finished, filing away the rest of what he had to say for a lesson he hoped to give to an apprentice someday. Too much information would overwhelm them, and she'd understand how to fully utilize the technique with practice. He watched as she nodded, still wide-eyed, thanking him with a smile before he padded off, replaying their fight in his head. How would he have responded, he wondered...
Other: If anyone wants siblings he's up for grabs (but I'll still be playing him) and/or he can just have none (or, if the need arises, I can make someone for the adoption thread)
Number of Cats: 2
Name: Boulderpath
Age: 29 moons
Rank: Warrior
Gender: Male
Personality: Boulderpath is a pensive cat, seeming to think to much before he speaks, and lacking a lot of the passion for strength, fighting, and brawn that seems to come naturally to most of his Clanmates. It's not that he doesn't like it, he just...appreciates it in a different way. He values thinking over brash action, and learned how to fit into the rather militaristic society the only way he could: shut up and listen. He keeps his head down, does what he's told, and does his best to get into the gung-ho mindset of his clanmates. He's wistful, though, always seeking out stories from RiverClan at the gatherings and far too interested in Seer things to be a good, strong warrior. So, he keeps a lot of it a secret, confining most dreams to his head, and works hard. He doesn't expect to ever rise to the rank of deputy, but that's ok, he has enough thoughts to last him more than ten lifetimes. If he sees something he doesn't agree with, which isn't as rare as he'd like, he keeps silent, always watching, always learning, always teaching. It's this perceived patience that earned him his warrior name of "-path", the willingness to listen and wait far too patiently to speak up if he has anything to say at all (he'd heard they'r been considering the "-face" suffix for him, but he knew what that meant, and he really didn't want that kind of connotation or attention). He follows orders well, but keeps a lot of his feelings bottled up; a rather unhealthy habit, he knows, but it's his only way of survival. He dreams of training an apprentice, hopefully two, and really just wants to fall in love and start a family (is that too much to ask?) - in a world dominated by prey counts and fighting skills, almost senseless patrols and order day in and day out, it's the only way his wandering mind thinks will matter after he's gone. There's gotta be more to life than just...hunts and border patrols, right? Maybe he should have been a Seer, but he knows that he would have been crap at it. At least hunting and tactics are something he understands, but he can't bring himself to be proud about it. Maybe that's why he has time to come up with new tactics, has time to think through and practice; he's not concerned with the Clan hierarchy of skill and boasting all the time, something he can be looked down on for at times. Still, there's no doubt his patience and skill with younger cats is practically un-matchable. He just hopes he'll be able to make a difference before the constant droning on of patrols drive him insane. He's got a pretty good handle on his emotions, he can keep most of his wants and needs bottled up pretty much forever, right?
Detailed Appearance: Boulderpath is large, so around average for a ThunderClan cat, leaning slightly to the larger side. He was larger as a kit than he is now, however, contributing to his prefix of "Boulder-". His pelt is dusty brown in color, and his eyes are a knowing burnt orange, always seeming to see more than they let on. His hing legs are shaped and powerful, as expected, and his tail is almost blac at the tip, dark rings running up the length of both his tail and legs (slightly darker on his hind legs than his front, think a brown-black as opposed to dark brown). He had three stripes running across the top of his back, and a few more on each side; the stripes are present on his face as well. The inside of his ears are white, and so are the undersides of his paws, and his fur is sleek and glossy (not too thick for a ThunderCaln cat, but certainly not thin).
Picture: N/A
History: Boulderpaw grew up fairly normally. He was the oldest of a litter of two, with one younger sister, and he was always more fond of watching than doing. He didn't mind doing, but only after he watched, and participated just enough in the rowdiness of kit life to avoid causing his mother or other Clan members worry. He was terrible at play fights at first, but started to excel at them about a moon before and during his apprentice training, always thinking of new ways and tactics to use to keep his Clanmates on his toes. He didn't have a perfect win record, far from it; but his training mates were far too predictable and he quickly became a rather respected fighter. His heart was always in other places, however, not just in the brawn, and his fighting prowess (while still very much there) has declined from the status it used to be as his clan members practiced avidly far more than him. he's far more interested in the art of fighting, the different theories and strategy and styles behind it rather than the actual fight itself, and found himself wanting to teach it to others before he even finished his training and earned his warrior name. He's wanted kits since as long as he could remember, and always found himself doting on the queens slightly more than necessary (a favorite of theirs, you could say). But for now, he'd just hope for an apprentice and pray for the best.
Roleplay Sample:
Boulderpath got ready to head out on patrol, emerging from the warriors den as he shook out his fur after his nap. At least today was warm, the wind chill from yesterday had been terrible. It was too early in leaf-fall for this.
His eyes scanned the camp, lingering over the fresh-kill pile for a bit before moving over to a group of warriors talking in the sun. He could see the little dark markings on the underside of some of the s' bellies; he noticed that a lot of the mice near the ShadowClan border had gotten them recently. He shouldn't be too concerned about that, right? But still, what if they were carrying some weird disease...at any rate, there'd been a lot of them recently, so disease or not, he should avoid that area in order to make sure the mice population near there didn't die out too quickly. If they were diseased, then he hoped ShadowClan would eat them all before they did.
His wandering gaze finally rested on two kits sparring in the clearing. They were old, almost old enough to be apprentices; it wouldn't be longer than a moon at most before they started their training. His tail swished behind him as he studied their moves, watching as the tabby avoided the tom's swipe, jumping backwards out of the way as she got ready to retaliate. Her strike landed well, hitting the male's shoulder firmly as he raised up to meet her, paws outstretched as he knocked her over and pinned her to the ground. Here, he had won, but in a real fight, it all would have depended on the severity of the shoulder wound. There was a rather advanced trick he'd been perfecting where she could have used his own lunge and weight to turn as they fell so that he was pinned to the ground instead, but then again, that technique was most effective against the heavy ThunderClan cats. All of his tactics seemed to be most useful against a big, strong ally - maybe it was because all he did was watch his Clanmates spar. They probably did it too much.
"That was good," he said, smiling lightly as he padded over to the two, turning to address the wide-eyed tabby. "Gingerkit, next time you rear up on your hind legs like that, try turning your back foot out to the side, like this," he said, showing her the motion with his front paw. "I like to call it 'turning out'. It helps you keep your balance," he finished, filing away the rest of what he had to say for a lesson he hoped to give to an apprentice someday. Too much information would overwhelm them, and she'd understand how to fully utilize the technique with practice. He watched as she nodded, still wide-eyed, thanking him with a smile before he padded off, replaying their fight in his head. How would he have responded, he wondered...
Other: If anyone wants siblings he's up for grabs (but I'll still be playing him) and/or he can just have none (or, if the need arises, I can make someone for the adoption thread)
Number of Cats: 2
