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Post by yami-chan on Aug 3, 2008 19:10:34 GMT -5
Name: For now I go by the name Jetpaw
Clan: It was whispered Faint
Position: I am just an apprentice until my warrior ceremony
Age: No more than 6 moons
Gender: Male, brute, or just tom
Description:
He is big, no massive for an apprentice of his age.
Hardy packs of muscle developing well under black
fur, long legs like spiders give him his looming
height. Both broad chest and shoulders add to his
bulk, not fat but bulk. his paws are larger than most,
giving him a feared sight as many would imagine that
he could crush anything or anyone with those lordly
parts. the tom is indeed a very strong cat, being
capable of taking down a full grown warrior with the
proper training of course.
With a well rounded face, and high placed cheek
bones, these small features could make any femme
swoon. Ears are long, pointed, and set apart from
each other, occasionally giving a flick either from
irritation or when sound asleep dreaming. Whiskers
thin and spindly, having a silk like look to it, they are
of medium length. Completing the facial disk is a small
black nose, always curious about the many scents
that linger in the air.
Stunning eyes that are ocean dark blue, glittering
like sapphire stones in the sun. Such a perfect blue
for this handsome dark young tom. Many if not all
seem to always look at the eyes first, the round
almond shaped visuals hypnotic. Though be wary as
they narrow into hardened chips of icy malice, the
stinging glare could cut flesh and shatter hearts as
they tremble in fear.
Fur that is hued the deepest coal black, like shadows
that dwell within a cave, stretch across his muscle
clad frame, longer hairs sweep the forest floor with
gentle ease. Always well groomed and clean, the sun
gives his raven black pelt a shiny sheen to it. On
particular nights, when the moon is at it’s strongest
shining point, his fur will indeed take a silvery tint.
His tail a long sweeping perfect plum, it is always
held a head higher or two than many cats, though
none of this really matters since he already towers
over most. Strong boned and snake like in length,
Jetpaw takes pride in his abnormally long tail,
flagging it about in an always victorious manner,
cleaning it down until smooth and soft.
Claws frightfully long hide within those monstrous
sized paws, a simple flick will flay the flesh of his
enemies. Canines pearly white, thick and crushing,
grow with the young brute, his chops snapping to
show off the dagger like weaponry.
Personality:
With a temper as mean as his that is mostly always
active, any cat would wonder if he had any friends at
all. Lucky for Jetpaw friends mean nothing to him;
more of an obstacle, something that would drag
individuals down at some point. The hot headed tom
owns a sharp tongue that blisters skin and is brutally
thrown like knives, uncaring whose feelings are hurt.
The growing young tom would rather spend his time
and focus on honing his battle skills, filling his brain
with bloody knowledge of scared moves handed down
from generations of war trained warriors. His talons
hunger for spilt blood, his canines aching to tear flesh.
Craving this, there is no room for friendship in the
grumpy apprentice’s heart.
One of the golden irritations that will set his fierce
temper ablaze is being treated like a snot nosed kit.
He wishes to be given warrior tasks, things that
others will talk about in the future with praise and
sweet jealousy. Jetpaw sees himself as a leader
and scowls at the thought of having to be a follower,
making it his duty to give out the orders, truing a
blinds eye to his bossy manner. If a challenge is given
to him, be it from his mentor, leader, or a clan
mate, Jetpaw will rise to meet the challenged needs,
having zero intentions of ever turning it down or
giving up.
But when it comes to leaders and possibly a mate,
he will cool down his ravaged anger, seeking a more
calmer disposition, trying his absolute best to be
respectful and nice. Jetpaw, despite his rude manner,
and war hungry cravings, he is very loyal to his clan
and will defend it to the end, though it is hard to see
through his tough armoured shell.
History:
Two rogues clean their newly born son under a
decaying birch, deciding to bestow him the name
Jet, the word describing his raven pelt. Shadow,
his mother; paused in her licking to gaze admiringly
at her squirming son, thrilled to see that he had
inherited her soft and fair long in length pelt, his
spindly legs and snaking tail matching hers. Fang,
the father, beamed pride filled that his son turned
out large, strong, and hardy just as he. Visible packs
of muscle showing through his skin, both sharing the
traits of long talons and canines. Both mother and
father were not in shock that Jet bore a black pelt
just as they did, though stumped by the stunning blue
eyes that neither of them fancied.
Alas such happiness would not last between the
small family, because as you know kits grow, and
when they do the strange world becomes filled with
things that must be explored. Despite his parents
warnings and tales of badgers and foxes that would
love to have lost kits for dinner, Jet ventured out alone
for the first time, marvelling at almost every tree and
rock, chasing after anything that moved. When the
young adventurer returned home, stories to tell his
parents, he was unaware of a following sour tempered
rogue. Confronting the small band of three, Jet’s
parents already in a state of shock that their son had
disobeyed them, nearly jumped out from their skins
when the mangy cat attacked. Fang the mighty was
left to chase away the hindrance, ears opened to the
threats their unwanted visitor threw with venom.
All three bearing minor scratches, it was decided that
a rogue’s life was unsuited for their nosy son. Both
mother and father wanted a better life for Jet, fearful
that their rogue ‘friend’ would return the victor. Off at
once, without a seconds thought, mother and father
sought out a more suitable life for their beloved son,
the first idea was to have Jet become a kittypet. It
hadn’t been difficult to find a Two leg nest that would
welcome the raven pelted kit inside, it was having the
tom contain his destructive side that proved harder.
The idea had been immediately scraped when they
found their son inside a card board box just outside
of the Two leg nest, knowing that he was unwanted.
The final idea that could not fail was to take him to a
clan. Jet, already in quite a state was
reluctant to leave his parents, though he had no
choice in the matter and was immediately taken to
Darkclan. The clan at first was reluctant to take in the
stray, no surprise to either Shadow or Fang; but their
pressed and desperate pleads brought forth the leader
of the clan, her decision allowing the kit to take refuge
in Darkclan.
At first the kit’s clueless excitement allowed him to get
along with others pretty well, his manners a little sloppy.
As the days progressed, the newly named Jetkit
became confused and depressed, his parents never
returning for him. His fiery temper and sharp tongue
beginning to take form, taking out his rage at the kits he
played with, never turning down his rough housing. Eager
to become stronger to prove to his parents that he was
never weak, forming a plotting revenge for his ungrateful
mother and father, Jetkit became obsessed with training,
wanting to be better than any cat alive.
Through his secret solo training sessions, he caught
the eyes of many clan mates as his battle skills and
hunting skills spanned greater than a kits knowledge
of any of those two subjects should be. Apprentice
ceremony came and went, holding the new name
Jetpaw with pride, his skills already surpassing that
of a normal warrior in training. But with the lack of
mentors, poor Jetpaw was made to wait, rising angst
sticking with him like glue. He began to doubt that
Darkclan’s leader could properly manage a clan, wanting
the power for himself, thinking that he could do a much
better job at leading.
Their came a day when young Jetpaw discovered an
amazing power that would set him apart from others.
Though it mattered not to him, since he had already
worked hard to isolate himself from his clan mates.
Determined and angered, the young apprentice
practised none stop, continuing with his solo training
sessions since a mentor could not fulfill his war hungry
appetite. Upon whirling to face escaping prey, locking
his stunning dark blue hues with the small black beady
eyes of a mouse, the small creature fainted, dropped
dead. Taking to the power immediately, Jetpaw began
practising the new found move, gradually gaining control
of it, adding strength to it each day, keeping in mind that
he had to train in battle and hunting as well.
Eagerly awaiting a mentor, Jetpaw continues his secret
training, strengthening both body and mind, building on
the discovered power. Awaiting the day when he can
emerge from the forest a powerful warrior, and put forth
his plotted plans for revenge.
IC:
Talons bit into the loamy soil, his lordly frame circling a
young rabbit; it had come time to try using this power
on a higher level. Mice were becoming far to easy, the
special move had to grow larger in strength. Dark
oculars of blue caught the switching gaze of the hare,
the creature’s hunches rising, preparing to leap. A
slight shiver passed through it’s spine, bones locking
into a frozen state; making contacted with the ground,
it’s limp body jerking before death clamed it. Jetpaw,
a malicious grin passing his chops, loomed over the
carcass with beamingpride, dragging it over to the
already dug pit. He would bring it back to camp after
battle training was over, having already completed
hunting and power training.
Facing the scathed oak trunk, the burly bark scored
deep with overlapping claw work, he squared broad
shoulders and began going through the daily routine
that was war training. Cackling gleefully as he imagined
his talons ripping through cat flesh, Jetpaw knifed
forward with fierce killing blows, each stroke becoming
faster than the last. Drawing to a satisfied end, the
hardy young tom stalked away from the trunk, grabbing
up the half buried rabbit. Burning anger blistered his
pads, infuriated that he still had not yet been assigned
a mentor. Stupid leader!! Canines bore deeper
into the stringy flesh of the rabbit, malice reflecting
through dark oculars; Silverstrike would pay, just like
his parents would when he bore a warrior name.
Notes:Jetpaw will stay in Darkclan until Faintclan
has been completed.
Adopted from Jetclaw. MODIFIED by Nighteh.
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