Posts by warriorcatsruleforever

Go right ahead! c:

Accepted~

I shall make the thread in a second, here!

An odd pain flickered through the ginger tabby tom as he rose to his paws. The grass beneath his pads was soft and velvety, while a light rain fell from the starry sky above. The tom furrowed his brows in confusion as the pain in his head increased. This usually didn't happen when he visited Starclan. But why had Starclan summoned him in the first place? Was it another prophecy? The tabby emitted a soft sigh, flickering his tail behind him. The pulsing at least was so bad. He could ignore it as long as it didn't keep increasing.

"Firestar," A familiar voice snapped the tom from his thoughts, and he was brought to attention. He cast his emerald gaze in the direction of an achingly familiar stout gray she-cat with a pushed in muzzle. She had orange eyes that glowed like the stars in the sky, and her matted coat was dotted with scars. She was ever so slightly transparent. Firestar flickered his ears and slowly approached her, guiltily dreading her next words. After the tabby halted before her, they locked gazes, her eyes glowing brightly and piercing the rain's dimness. "A new prophecy has come afoot, I'm afraid." She growled, apparently wanting to get straight to the problem.

"What is it, Yellowfang?" He asked impatiently, curling his claws into the damp soil. It was currently Newleaf, which meant rain, sun, rain, sun nonstop. Apparently that happened in Starclan too, he observed. Yellowfang looked at him steadily, and the fur along his spine rippled. This was more serious than he had first thought, it seemed.

"A cat of light with darkness in her heart will threaten to destroy the Clans. Many cats outside of this domain will tear away the darkness and regain light. Be careful, for they can easily be turned." Her eyes widened and grew pupil-less, her body convulsing as she stood rigidly. Her voice sounded foreign as she uttered the prophecy words. Firestar took a step back in alarm, pinning his ears back. Slight irritation and fear flickered through him. Why did prophecies have to be so vague?

Before the ginger tom realized it, darkness was enveloping him and the silhouette of Yellowfang was fading. He let out a yowl of protest, wanting desperately to question her as to what it meant, but knew all too well that it was too late.

Firestar jerked awake, inhaling deeply. He shook violently as he scrambled to sit upright, his tail lashing and flickering behind him in distress. He stared at his paws, his breath unsteady every time he inhaled and exhaled. Not another prophecy? Oh Starclan, why... He begged in his mind, shutting his emerald gaze in exasperation.
[hr]

|PLOT|
The Youtubers have been turned into cats and are currently loners. They are found by any Clan you decide, and eventually become apart of their ranks. It is many, many moons later. After the death of Firestar, and when Bramblestar has passed on. It is unknown as to why Starclan gave the prophecy to Firestar so early, but it has now arisen. Though many cats have forgotten, certainly the Starclan cats haven't. As said by Yellowfang, the Youtubers have to save the Clans from being destroyed by a cat of light with darkness in her heart. Will they succeed, or will the Clans perish?

|YOUTUBERS/CATS WITHIN THE CLANS|
Thunderclan
Markiplier (Moony Moon The Wolf)
Jontron (ιяιѕнgя郃ιη)
Moongazer (kitty_barbie)
Foxfeather (kitty_barbie)
CLOSED

Windclan
Jacksepticeye (ιяιѕнgя郃ιη)
IHasCupQuake (GalaxySuicune)
Pewdiepie (Moony Moon The Wolf)
Daz Black (Lightened Vision)
CLOSED

Shadowclan
OPEN

Riverclan
OPEN

Signup Thread: http://warriorcatsrpg.com/inde…1.msg79805380#msg79805380

Start when you are ready!

נσηтяση
The soreness that gnawed at his head stirred him from his seemingly deep slumber. A soft growl of disapproval broke through the bulky man's lips as he lifted what he thought to be a hand to his head. "Dammit...The hell did I do?" He hissed beneath his breath, slowly cracking open his eyes. His vision was irritatingly blurry, but strange mixtures of green and blue was blurred against each other. For a moment, he suspected that he had possibly gotten drunk and was now hallucinating, but immediately scratched that thought away due to the fact that alcohol didn't do that to you, and he didn't remember even taking a sip of it. I don't even have beer... He frowned, trying desperately to search through his thoughts. Nothing. It had just been a normal day after shooting another Jontron episode yesterday.

Sighing tiredly, he staggered to his feet, only to realize he was unbalanced. Stumbling, he froze as the world spun around him. As his vision refocused, a chill ran down his spine. He saw the thick emerald foliage, and the grass underfoot. The sound of birdsong filled the cool air. "What.." Was all he could utter as he glanced about. He didn't even notice that he had looked down at what seemed to be his paws. No, he hadn't recognized the fact that he was a cat. Not yet. In fact, he was still trying to process the fact that he had woken up in the middle of the woods. And not woods that he recognized, either.

נα¢кѕєρтι¢єує
"Christ, my head.." Sean groaned, gripping his throbbing skull and kicking out his legs in exasperation. He dreaded the thought of starting the day out with a migraine. Boy, would it be fun making videos while your head was exploding! He thought bitterly through the pounding, cracking open his eyes. A blinding light hit his optics, only burning them and making him curse louder as he quickly shut them again, wincing. What the hell is my room light doing being on? Clawing half-heartedly about until he found his footing, he stumbled upright, wheezing. When he allowed his eyes to open, his vision was of course blurred and unfocused. Wonderful. But then he noticed something. He didn't have to get out of his bed. And his bed felt...grassy. Bladey, if that was a word.

"What the hell..." He hissed, staring in alarm and amazement at his sleek black paws that just looked like blobs at the moment. When his vision finally cleared, all he could do was blink in awe at his new body. He snapped his gaze to his body, and then to the massive territory he stood within. A blistering wind tore at his fur, making him feel amazing. "I'm a cat!" He cried out, not caring if he sounded stupid. This had to be the best dream ever! And it felt so real!

Roleplay Thread: http://warriorcatsrpg.com/inde…3.msg79840725#msg79840725

And they will wake up as cats~

And accepted!

You need to put the codeword to show me you read the rules, then I shall accept you.

נσηтяση
Only until he noticed that he could sense everything with a sharper..."tang" did he realize he was much different. He snapped his gaze down at his large paws, and emitted a startled yelp of alarm, stumbling clumsily backward. The fur along his spine pricked upright, and he flexed his claws. Oh, God. This had to be a dream. This had to be. He stood there rigidly, unsure as to how to react to this. Should he be scared? Confused? Angry? Possibly a mixture of both.

"You! What are you doing here, rogue!" A startling voiced hit his ears, and he whipped around, instinctively unsheathing his claws. A definite wave of fear crashed down upon him when he saw three felines stand before him, all looking muscular and frighteningly battered and scarred. The cat who had spoken seemed to a be a large, graceful calico with cold emerald eyes. The one on the right side of her was a small dusty tabby brown cat, and on the other was a particularly bulky and menacing ruffled gray tom.

Jon was in utter shock. This was all too real. Talking cats! "Jesus Christ.." The brown tabby breathed, eyes wide like full moons as he took another step backward. He had no idea what to do. He didn't know how to be a cat--and he didn't know why he was a cat. The calico she-cat emitted a soft snarl, her feathery tail lashing behind her, clearly impatient for his response. Jon swallowed down the bile that was rising in his throat. "I swear, I have no goddamn clue! I-I just woke up here!" These cats definitely weren't Mimi. They were clearly intelligent...and dangerous.

נα¢кѕєρтι¢єує
Sean cast his gaze about, realizing with start that he was on the open moor. It seemed to stretch for forever, and even from here he could see the distant silhouettes of mountains. The wind continued to claw at his black and white coat, and he lifted his chin to the air. "This is fuckin' awesome!" He shouted at the crystal blue sky, perking up his tail to the air and inhaling deeply. This felt amazing. It was if he was on top of the world. If this was a dream, he wanted it to never end. Suddenly, the sound of cracking grass and twigs snapped him to attention. Bristling his fur, he looked in the direction, nostrils flaring. Lazily hopping a good distance away from him was a dusty brown rabbit, chewing on weeds and grass blades. Sean could only stare. Jesus, they're huge in a cat's eyes! He thought, flickering his ears. No, he didn't ever want to wake up. Strangely enough, being a cat was fun!

He heard a voice and he turned around, eyes widening. Another cat! And it could talk! This a weird dream... He observed, before hesitating. That voice was startlingly familiar. "...Mark?" He breathed.

Accepted~

נσηтяση
The cats paused, and the calico raised a brow. Jon immediately began to wonder if they knew what "goddamn" was. Before he could continue to search through his thoughts, the calico spoke once more. "You are a strange cat," She observed, and Jon found himself to be slightly offended. "State your name and business." She ordered, and the brown tabby couldn't help but feel a bit pissed off. No one controlled him like he was some toddler! He lashed his tail behind him, narrowing his golden eyes coldly at the three.

"And why would I tell you?" He dared to retort, and after he said these words a feeling of regret washed over him. These cats could do literally anything to him, possibly even kill him, and yet here he is, cockily spitting in their faces. I'm just asking to get my ass kicked... He scolded himself, only for his eyes to land on the bulky gray tom at the calico's side, who decided to snarl at the response. Jon quickly decided to change his words. "I--uh, mean--What will you do with the information? I-it's not like I'm of any importance. I am a rogue, after all!" He pointed out, deciding not to "state" his business. He had already mentioned why he was here! He had no fucking clue!

נα¢кѕєρтι¢єує
A hope fluttered inside him. This was Mark! But...why was he in his dream? Before he could get another thought in his whirling mind, he heard the all-too aggressive voices. He whipped around, fluffing up his sleek black pelt in alarm at the sight of the felines. Oh, God. Talking cats. Suddenly, he heard Mark's tone pip up again, and he cast a glance over his shoulder to him, hoping for some back-up just in case they had to show these cats who's boss. Instead he saw a terrified cat-Markiplier fleeing across the moor. "H-hey, wait! Ye can't just leave me here with them!" He cried out, even more dread seeping into his shaking body.

He looked back to these strange cats, taking a shaky step back. He nervously chuckled, unsure as to how to act, now. Some help Mark was! "Your territory?" He stammered, pinning his ears back flat against his skull. Fuck! I'm in deep trouble, now! He thought, alarm streaking through him like a bullet.

Shí lowered his large snout to the icy ground, nostrils flaring as he felt around with his lips for the minty green tufts of grass he had previously spotted. Finally, he felt the frozen blades and ground his teeth against the stems, clasping it firmly as he began to feed. Ah, the frigid temperatures up in the mountain peaks brought little food, but the yak managed. He was built for this. He could survive several weeks without a single frond or stem. His little friend, however, could not. She was not built for this climate, but she managed. She seemed to like to believe that without Shí she would have died. The yak, however, thought the latter.

He flicked his ears at the flakes falling from the air, huffing in slight irritation. He sensed another blizzard to arrive, much to his distaste. Every blizzard it was difficult for the odd duo, and they always just managed to survive. "Just" was not Shí's comfort, but Yèzi insisted that it was better than dying. Suddenly, he felt a small body shift beneath his thick, shaggy coat, and Shí emitted a snort of slight annoyance, but focused intently on the grass shoots.

Yèzi stirred from her deep sleep, shifting ever so slightly. She found herself lazily curled within the black depths of her friend's fur, which was not to her surprise. It was the only way to survive for a civet built for warmer temperatures. If she had to act like fleas in order to not freeze to death, she wouldn't complain. The civet hesitated, hearing the gurgles of her friend's stomach and the convulsing of his throat and chest muscles. Eating, perhaps? The small creature scrambled out from the matted cords until finally her head broke through, and was immediately met with an uncomfortably cold breeze. Huffing, which sent a cloud of steam, she slowly but regretfully made her way out until she was perched upon his spine.

She curled her claws into his fur, highly doubting he would even notice the feeling of the sharpness. Curious and hungry, Yèzi slowly peeked to her friend's right to see him chewing on a clump of grass. Her stomach immediately growled at the sight in anticipation. "Is that carex I see, Shí?" She asked casually, carefully making her way to the horns atop his head so she could see the food better. Her yak companion snorted in response, lashing his long tail in irritation. This was the usual.

One may think that a civet and a yak couldn't possibly talk and understand each other. Being the fact that they have been together for a year and six months, however, they now completely understand the other's language. The fact that Yèzi had been abandoned at birth from her family also helped, of course, she hadn't truly had time to understand the civet language.

Spinner nodded quietly, turning to a nearest tree. It would be better if he traveled within the branches to lookout for danger, and so he wouldn't get in the way. Being small was often an annoying concept that the green arachnid had to deal with his entire life. Someday, though, I'll be the biggest, baddest, most awesomest Ariados! He thought with deep determination. With that in mind, he darted clumsily with the bag to the nearest Wepear Berry tree, climbing up the chocolate brown bark. As he entered the dusty brown leaves of the berry tree, he led a long thread of string as he began leaping from tree to tree. If something was to be following him or the group, he would sense it with the string.

|PLOT|
Expect the unexpected is what is always told. Ah, but for the Spore creatures of planet Licrial, they have always expected the "strangest". For them, though, everything is normal. The winged rabbit with moose antlers may be bizarre, but to the fellow Spore, it is a thing that they are used to. The ecosystem is delicate here on this planet. Instead of evergreens, birches, maples, or any of that sort, massive trees with strange tubs sticking out of the mint-blue bark and long, curled green leaves make the majority of the forests. There are of course trees that look like giant glowing blue, purple, red, and gold mushrooms. There is a large variety of flora that keeps every creature alive.

But a new thing has occured. In strangely-shaped space-ships, rounded like tubes and pointy at the tips, have landed on the planet. As far as the creatures can tell they aren't like them. They walk on two legs and speak in utter gibberish. Now these creatures called "humans" aren't to be trsuted...as they begin to destroy the vary home they live within.

|RULES|
-If you haven't heard of Spore before, I suggest you go buy it, for it is an awesome game. Basically, it is game about the evolution of animals on planets. You grow from a cell to an invading civilization of high-tech creatures. Fun thing is---your creativity can take over.
-One creature per person. If you can't find pictures of your creature, then just go ahead and give a thorough description.
-Semi advanced to advanced, only.
-I expect creativity in Spore creatures! I want to see things from cute to frightening!
-Yes, you may play an Epic if you so desire.
-No overpowered characters.
-I expect some realism, as well. A creature in the Creature Stage can't possibly have one hundred health. The highest for a creature with nestmates is fifty. If you're a rogue, then I suppose I can make an acception.
-The site's rules apply
-If you've read the rules, put "You monster" in the "Other" section of your form

|PLANET LICRIAL|
[img width=510 height=382]http://i128.photobucket.com/al…e_2009-02-24_00-30-45.png[/img]

|FORMS|

|MY FORMS|
Under construction.

|ROLEPLAY THREAD|
Under construction.

Name:
Spiderkit, Spiderpaw, Spiderstep

Age:
Twenty-six moons

Rank:
Warrior

Wanted Rank:
Will take any rank that needs to be filled.

Orientation: (optional):
Homosexual

Quote:
"Starclan may light your path, but sometimes, you need to follow your own paws, and not Starclan's."

History:
When he was a young kit born in Skyclan he was oddly thin, and they honestly didn't believe he would survive to apprentice-hood because of his unnaturally tall height and extremely skeletal frame. Despite their doubts, he just barely lived, but in the end he was bullied by the fellow kits and apprentices. They taunted him for his "spider legs", and insisted that he wasn't supposed to thrive those moons of being ill. In the end of it all, when he gained his mentor, he put a stop to this and protected him briefly from the torment. Spiderstep's father had gone off to have more than five mates, while his mother had "disowned" him, which is quite normal in the wild, because of him being so weak and helpless. His mentor taught him many more things than hunting and fighting, and Spiderstep soon found that he thought of his mentor as the father he never had.

When he was finally turned into a warrior, the apprentices that had bullied him in the past began to taunt him again. But, he was taller than them and nimble and silent on his paws. They no longer taunted him for his looks, but for his lack of strength. One day, he grew incredibly tired of this, and finally gathered the cats that had bullied him in a circle behind the camp. He spoke with strong words and poison on his tongue, and insisted that he was no longer the obedient kit hiding in his den, but instead the strong, independent warrior who drove forward with paws slamming upon the ground and fangs bared in the face of taunters. They immediately backed off, and he became the calm yet stubborn tom he is now. Unfortunately, during when he was bullied, he started to lose his faith in Starclan and at one point stopped believing his ancestors all together. But, when he was sent to the Moonstone to become a warrior, he regained that belief.
Appearance:

Theme Song:
I Am Not A Robot - Marina And The Diamonds

Personality:
A calm, quiet sort of feline. He is determined and independent, which leads to his stubborn behavior. He enjoys apprentices and kits, and often speaks words of wisdom and praises them, for he doesn't want them to be as miserable as he was. If bugged enough, however, he will have fangs bared and voice laced with poison. You may also earn several swats upside the head if you've gone too far, as well. He shares more connection with toms more than she-cats, for the large majority of his former bullies were females, along with the fact that his mother disowned him. He dislikes those of which who have far too much energy for their own good, and sometimes get carried away in the fact that he rants more often than not about it.

Er, am I accepted?

I'm unsure as to what's going on..

Ahh, okay. xD

Thank you~

[img width=510 height=318]http://www.zastavki.com/pictur…th_brown_eyes_044935_.jpg[/img]
Name: Russetear
Gender: Male
Role: Elder
Opition2: Elder
Looks: ^^^
Mate/Crush: Nettleclaw; Deceased
Family: Nettlestar - Nettleclaw (Mate; deceased), Lizardkit - Lizardpaw - Lizardhop (Adopted kit; current Medicine Cat)

Name: Lizardhop
Gender: She-cat
Role: Medicine Cat
Opition2: Medicine Cat
Looks: ^^^
Mate/Crush: None/None
Family: Russetear (Father; Elder), Nettleclaw (Father; deceased)
Other: Nope.

Name:
Skid (Also goes by his true name, Fuar, but only gives the information to those he completely trusts)

Gender:
Male

Age:
Thirty-eight moons

Personality:
Most call him "jerk", for he most certainly is one. He is bitter, sarcastic, and cold, which obviously doesn't make a good combination for making companions. He is not afraid to spit out foul language and nasty remarks towards those he despises, and greatly prefers personal space. He is not one to approach upright or with an energetic and overly happy aura, in fact, he doesn't approach at all; he lets the stranger approach. He hates those of which who are happy-go-lucky, for he finds them naive and revolting to be around. It is very difficult to break through this shell of cold and bitterness, but once you do, you will find a determined young cat with a strangely protective personality. He finds it hard to trust someone, and is proven to have a trust disorder due to his past. He never laughs or cries, or shows any emotion, for because of his apprentice-sized height he believes that he will be mocked; which is another reason why he is so bitter. If you anger him enough, he will sink into his thick Irish accent and even several times speak in Irish-Gaelic without noticing until cats give him strange looks.

Looks:
A rather small feline with matted and ruffled dark gray fur. He has pale gray socks that are barely noticeable, and some light gray on his ears. A scar is slit across his forearm on the front, but it is nothing outright amazing. He as rather short legs and an overall stout body, but despite his looks, he is rather swift and light on his feet. One fang hooks over his lower lip, and he has dark orange eyes. He has a torn right ear, and a long, bushy tail.

Other:
He is asexual homoromantic. Other than that, hello! c:

"Ar ais amach, francach tú.." The grizzled feline huffed, staring in the direction of a distraught squirrel who had dared approach the rather irritated brute. With one last twitch of his tail, the gray creature was up the tree. Skid let out an annoyed sigh, averting his orange gaze in the direction of the barn silhouetted in the distance. At the moment he lay beneath the shade of a towering oak, a gentle wind ruffling its bright green leaves. He furrowed his brows, twitching his whiskers as a faint scent was carried on the breeze that couldn't be caught by just a normal wrinkle of the snout. He opened his jaws slightly, a cold liquid running along the roof of his mouth as he tasted the air.

The sharp tang of cats approaching the sturdy barn caught the tomcat's attention. He hesitated, snorting in slight disgust, but admittedly was a bit curious. Why that barn, of all places? By the looks of it, the place probably held a bucket-load of food that Skid would find quite tasty. Problem was, he might have to fight for it. If a single pelt is landed on my body, I can always claw their faces off. With that impossible thought in mind, the tom rose to his paws stiffly, arching his spine in a long stretch, a yawn escaping his maw. Snorting, he began his travel toward the place, already his mouth watering at the thought of juicy, fat mice clamped between his teeth.

[align=center][img width=510 height=262]http://cdn4.sci-news.com/images/2012/03/image_214.jpg[/img]
The small creature slowly stirred from his deep sleep, blinking drowsily. A yawn escaped his narrow jaws as he cast his hazy gaze about, nose twitching. It was the middle of the night by the looks of the darkness, which slightly surprised the rodent. A gentle breeze flowed through, buffeting the light brown fur of him, along with the pelt of the feline he laid against. But instead of sprinting away from the slumbering body, he looked at the soft fur of the cat he considered as...a friend.

the sound of snapping twigs caught the skittish creature's attention, and he pressed more against the back of companion, his body beginning to quiver. He hated the night. Why had his body decided to wake up at this time, of all times? "[Insert your character's name here]..." He whispered, his breath coming out shaky, his voice wavering. When no response came, he simply turned his back to the haunting foliage of the forest and clambered onto the feline's side.

Once he scrambled on top, he looked nervously at the face of the cat. His companion was still deep asleep, belly slightly exposed while their limbs twitched. He heaved out a sigh, curling up in the thick coat. The fur immediately warmed up his little body, making the chills of the wind do nothing but sooth him. Oh, how his colony would despise him if they realized he had befriended a cat. But, that one stormy night, he would of died without the help of his current friend. And, admittedly, Poppy didn't care. He didn't care what they would think of him. The only thing that mattered was at least he wouldn't be an outcast to one creature in this massive world. And who needed a judgmental family, when you could have a loyal friend?

The safety of a predator was more than calming. He no longer had to worry about the next fox lunging out to snap him up in its nasty jaws, or the flashing claws of a...a cat. He frowned, staring out at the gloom of the night. That word..."cat"...That used to be a word he despised and feared. But now, it was a fuzzy word. A word that reminded him of his best friend. How could he be so close-minded to think that all cats were "evil"? But before he could venture in his thoughts once more, he had slipped back to sleep, curled snug in his once most feared enemy's fur.
[hr]
Poppy stirred once more as the sun rose above the mighty tops of the towering evergreens and oaks. Blinking, the rodent looked around, relieved to see the once darkened surroundings illuminated. In fact, the foliage was ablaze with gentle oranges and pinks. He uncoiled, rising to his paws to arch is spine in a long stretch; a yawn soon followed after. Licking his lips, the house mouse took a step back, looking at the sleeping expression of his feline companion.

He was still a bit drowsy from having woken up early at night, but he pretended to act lively and optimistic. Soon, though, he knew, he would have to go back to his colony. "Morning, sleepy-head!" He exclaimed, whiskers twitching. His voice was high-pitched with delight, masking his sleepiness and depression at the thought of leaving his friend's side for another day. Just a few more hours... He thought, stress pricking at his soft coat. He always told himself that, and yet he always took longer to get back home. Here, with his new friend, he felt accepted. And not the scared, timid mouse the world said he was.

Poppy wasn't at all alarmed as Leafstep lifted him up and set him down, only to groom his pelt from its bedraggled self. He smiled the best any animal could smile, enjoying he soothing rhythem. "Oh, yes!" He pipped, flickering his long tail slightly. He wouldn't burden his friend with his problems, his stress, or anything like that. The world only knew how stressed she was because of all this, as well.

He looked up at her, whiskers twitching slightly as he perked his large ears. He cocked his head to the side. "What about you?" He questioned, noticing the drowsiness from her. In turn, he groomed her forepaw, despite knowing that it would do little to nothing with his efforts to clean her. His colony would probably call him a cat himself, which, he probably did act like one now. He huffed, pushing away the thoughts of his family. They only ever made his anxiety grow every time they asked him where he was, or why he smelled like a predator when he forgot to clean himself.