Post by ♥Goldenheart♥ on Oct 30, 2007 20:48:39 GMT -5
Cat's Name: Paristernist
Gender: Tom
Age: 21 moons
Rank: Fighter for the Path
Clan: RiverClan
Personality: Paristernist has always shown a special interest in the lives of kits, even though he isn't often allowed to see them. They somehow just appeal to him when they are small. However, he isn't the sort to spend his whole life wishing he could see the kits more. He also enjoys gathering herbs. While he will willingly go on a captive-catching mission, he has some deeply buried but also deep-seated qualms about the entire practice of sacrifices. However, he enjoys his life with the Cats of the Roaring Path too much, and sees the alternatives as too awful, for him to want to do anything about it. Other than the small issues of kits and sacrifices, he is very happy and a very loyal cat.
Appearance: He is a medium-large blue-gray tabby, with slightly long and scarred legs. His deep green eyes blaze strongly with whatever he's feeling, making whatever's going on in his mind pronouncedly obvious. Other than his eyes and a nasty scar on his neck, he looks fairly unremarkable.
History: He was born to a street-cat mother who liked her mate far more than she liked her kits. Paristernist, then called Trash Three, was hesitant to leave the day he was weaned, and so his mother chose to throw him out, literally and violently. She picked him up by the scruff of his neck and threw him in such a way that it ripped his skin. Half the day later, he was still lying dazed where he had landed when one of the Cats of the Roaring Path chose to pick him up and make him one of their own. He was healed and trained in the ways of the Fighters for the Path, and the training has apparently paid off.
Example of Roleplay: How many bios have I done by now? More than four, that is certain. Still, I'd like to sample a roleplay of this charrie.
A small kitten known as Trash Three was flying through the air. He didn't quite know what was happening, but somehow he had been rejected. As he lay, stunned, for how long he didn't know, he became gradually aware of a menacing shape looming above him. It was a deadly enemy. It opened its mouth to eat him, and from that dangerous cavity issued a voice, which said, "Paristernist, you're up for sacrifice patrol!"
The blue tabby woke up with a jolt as his friend's voice cut into his nightmare. Blinking the memory-dream away, he reminded himself that he had been flung away many moons ago rather than yesterday, and he was still alive. It was hard to be part of an orderly routine when you kept thinking about things that were anything but orderly.
Other: N/A
Gender: Tom
Age: 21 moons
Rank: Fighter for the Path
Clan: RiverClan
Personality: Paristernist has always shown a special interest in the lives of kits, even though he isn't often allowed to see them. They somehow just appeal to him when they are small. However, he isn't the sort to spend his whole life wishing he could see the kits more. He also enjoys gathering herbs. While he will willingly go on a captive-catching mission, he has some deeply buried but also deep-seated qualms about the entire practice of sacrifices. However, he enjoys his life with the Cats of the Roaring Path too much, and sees the alternatives as too awful, for him to want to do anything about it. Other than the small issues of kits and sacrifices, he is very happy and a very loyal cat.
Appearance: He is a medium-large blue-gray tabby, with slightly long and scarred legs. His deep green eyes blaze strongly with whatever he's feeling, making whatever's going on in his mind pronouncedly obvious. Other than his eyes and a nasty scar on his neck, he looks fairly unremarkable.
History: He was born to a street-cat mother who liked her mate far more than she liked her kits. Paristernist, then called Trash Three, was hesitant to leave the day he was weaned, and so his mother chose to throw him out, literally and violently. She picked him up by the scruff of his neck and threw him in such a way that it ripped his skin. Half the day later, he was still lying dazed where he had landed when one of the Cats of the Roaring Path chose to pick him up and make him one of their own. He was healed and trained in the ways of the Fighters for the Path, and the training has apparently paid off.
Example of Roleplay: How many bios have I done by now? More than four, that is certain. Still, I'd like to sample a roleplay of this charrie.
A small kitten known as Trash Three was flying through the air. He didn't quite know what was happening, but somehow he had been rejected. As he lay, stunned, for how long he didn't know, he became gradually aware of a menacing shape looming above him. It was a deadly enemy. It opened its mouth to eat him, and from that dangerous cavity issued a voice, which said, "Paristernist, you're up for sacrifice patrol!"
The blue tabby woke up with a jolt as his friend's voice cut into his nightmare. Blinking the memory-dream away, he reminded himself that he had been flung away many moons ago rather than yesterday, and he was still alive. It was hard to be part of an orderly routine when you kept thinking about things that were anything but orderly.
Other: N/A
