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Posts by SilenceXxx
This is an archived version of FeralFront. While you can surf through all the content that was ever created on FeralFront, no new content can be created.
If you'd like some free FeralFront memorabilia to look back on fondly, see this thread from Dynamo (if this message is still here, we still have memorabilia): https://feralfront.com/thread/2669184-free-feralfront-memorabilia/.
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USERNAME: silencexxx
WHAT YOU WANT TO BE CALLED: silence
IMAGE: -click-
TEXT: tenaciousvisages
i dreamed a dream in times gone by
MOOD: maybe somber? his past haunts him, but he's a good tom at heart...
OTHER: how'd you fancy some sparkling pink lemonade? love your graphics c:
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hm... well i'm not exactly experienced at roleplaying rabbits, but i'm curious...
would it be alright if i used this as somewhat of a learning experience? (off to research! :3)
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where's the form? :3
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a second account, actually
but thank you!
i can't wait to see; these are gorgeous!
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Major WIP
Username;; SilenceXxx
Muse;; 8
Activity;; 7
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Name;; Repertoire
Gender;; Male
Appearance;;
Personality;;
Plots;;
RP Sample (with a rabbit);;
Other;;
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Name: paradoxicalkit >> paradoxicalpaw >> paradoxicalvisages
Gender: tom
Eyes: blue
Coat: seal lynx point
Extra: fur, shortened tail, mitten paws[/size]
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thank you cx
omaigosh they're beautiful <333
the first one probably works best with my ideas for him, although i love both of them! :>[/size]
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[font=times new roman][color=black]cat's name:
Desmond [Shadowveil]gender&sexuality:
Tom&Bi-curious (Leans straight)age:
34 moonsdetailed appearance:
With his dark fur and often mysterious ways, Desmond can appear sinister at first sight. He is a black smoke with a fighter's build, although he's spent a great deal of his time in ShadowClan honing some of his... secondary skills, his keen, dark olive eyes his preferred weapon in a fight. It's rare to see the tom visibly relaxed, and this tends to be bad when trying to inspire others to be calm and remain hopeful, but it's a clear display of how he prefers to lead from the front line. However, in the uncommon times that Desmond is settled down, it isn't hard to catch an amused glint in his eyes or see his general warmth, and his especially prominent soft spot for kits.detailed personality:
From the moment his eyes first opened, it seems, Desmond has had large ambitions. The bold council member started out a little kit in Clan Hylledale, with two parents who weren't any big heroes or anything particularly honorable, just hardworking and loyal to the Clan. However, it didn't take long for the strong, intelligent kit to make himself distinguished through daring schemes and an interest in the politics of the Clan. Desmond is the sort of tom who is quick to the chase, cutting out all but the bare necessities and driving himself toward his goal. This occasionally comes to the point of being impulsive without thinking things through enough, and often times he's made decisions he's come to regret, but that's where his trust in his clanmates comes in. Desmond's philosophy is that every cat contributes what another cat needs, and that belief allows him to be confident so he can make decisions, but also be careful and listen to others.detailed history:
Born a part of Clan Hylledale, Desmond prides himself in his knowledge of its history. He was born to a modest couple of cats, but as a kit, his favorite pastime was always thinking up ways to do things without being caught. When he received his true name, it wasn't surprising that he chose to be a scout, what with his keen eyesight and love for being in on all the action. He served as a loyal scout for several moons before being promoted to a council member. In all honesty, this wasn't a large surprise, although it was shortly after the tragic death of his parents. They'd been close to retirement, and it had been a cool, pleasant summer night, but sadly, his mother suffered a heart attack. As she died, Desmond's father took his own life, unable to live without his mate. This inspired Desmond to rise and do his best for the clan he loved.relatives:
Mother (NPC && Hunter)- Deceased; Father (NPC && Scout)- Deceased; Brother (Scout && WIP)roleplay sample with:
Desmond couldn't help but be amused, his maw twitching slightly, by the slightly uncomfortable situation the Her Majesty was in at the moment. It wasn't difficult for the council member to pick up on her uncertainty, having known Queen Andreia for quite awhile, and having such keen eyes. The tom, once a scout for the Clan, was seated in as much shadow as he could find, as was his preference. It was hardly a conscious decision; the tom simply made a habit of shrinking himself into small, shadowed areas, where his thick, dark pelt was easily concealed. The black smoke's alert, dark olive eyes roved over the assembled, and in his mind, even if not by what he saw, Desmond Shadowveil knew there was curiosity in the minds of those in attendance. They could tell that this meeting held importance. Desmond, too, was curious what exactly Her Majesty planned to say, and he fixed his solid gaze on her, wondering whether it would look better to have a council member silence the audience, or whether the queen would prefer it be settled without help, as she was certainly capable of dealing with proceedings herself.roleplay sample without:
Tink. Tink. Tink.Water from the recent rain pattered into a tin basin from the gutter of a somewhat ramshackle old twolegden, beside which a scraggly looking tom had been seated. The sun was slowly emerging, and a faint rainbow could be seen by looking a little over the right and above. Now, he padded over to the basin until his deep, brown gaze was intense and focused. Curling his white tail around his paws, he sat and began a waiting game, content enough with the humidity that the rain had brought to feel that he ought to enjoy himself for an hour or two, though of course to him, the passing time was defined by the position of the half-concealed, clouded sun above. He held his forepaw up, in his head calculating just the right moment...
The tan-patched forepaw darted out suddenly and caught a droplet of water just as it threatened to fall below the rim of the basin. The water felt cool in the moment that it lingered on his pad, before sliding down to the muddy ground, a barely tangible reward. Triumphant, the paw returned to its first stance, held sideways to where the water dripped, in the hopes that perhaps it might be yet again successful in intercepting its approaching foe, that usually dreaded water. For an inexplicable reason, this had always been a favorite pastime of the tom; something in its tranquility and the precision required to catch the water at the last possible moment before it escaped reach appealed to him. Before a second victory could be obtained, something blasted by the tom’s ear, terrifyingly and unavoidably fast. It was luck that the cat wasn’t shot to death, and it sent his mind reeling with fear, kicked up his adrenaline to a level it hadn’t reached for ages, hadn’t been forced to since his days of being a clan cat. Simultaneously, a resounding crack deafened him, and he took no chance by taking his time to send prayer to StarClan that his hearing return, lest he himself be forever removed by whatever foxdung had so inconsiderately attacked him.
In a moment, the tom was racing away from the twolegden, feeling as though his head had acquired a pulse, a worrisome idea, as he wasn’t sure that this ought to be the case, and meanwhile struggling inwardly to push away thoughts of the past. Even as he faced this inner turmoil, the need for speed brought back long ago, determinedly forgotten, memories, reminders of who he’d been and why he’d been forced to this lonely life. Cynosure’s white and tan splotched pelt disappeared into the cover of the forest, followed by the angry yells of the twoleg, spurred on by the menace the words held, though he couldn’t decipher the meaning of the sounds. Had he been human, Cynosure might have made out something to do with weeks and weeks, and rabbits and herbs gone missing.
At last, drawing out ragged breaths, the beat tom, who’d failed to stay in shape over the moons, what with the easily caught twoleg bunnies and all, observed his newly acquired surroundings. He’d hardly looked where he’d been going as he’d raced away from the awful, one hundred percent evidently twoleg-bred, attacker. It was in its own sense a monster, easily imagined blasting down a thunderpath, the tom reflected, disgusted by the very existence of such a horrid thing. The idea of a gun, despite his moons of experience in such matters as twoleg combat (which was the root of quite a deal of pride), was new to Cynosure, and was immediately deemed an evil among evils.anything else:
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is the general position open for application? :3
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[sawkit][/size]
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oh, alright, thank you :3
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SilenceXxxwhy should i give her/him to you?
highvoltage the kind of character that would both be a bit of a challenge for me, but also very enjoyable. i'll keep him active, i promise :>roleplay sample
penumbrakit took his jolly old time in answering the she-cat, refusing to take heed of the fear that this tortie could clearly imbue in cats, and seemed to be quite nearly imbuing in he himself. instead, the little kit considered his words with great care, sensing that in this particular instance, his quite mature, and rather modest, side must make an appearance; it seemed that whatever he said, it would be of the utmost importance to measure his words and think them through before uttering them. if anything, there were three things penumbrakit considered himself to be: intelligent, patient, and, chiefly, sagacious in matters that kits, much to his dissatisfaction, were generally refused the chance to take part in. knowing, however, his own maturity, penumbrakit judged that he could, in fact, cope amiably well in serious topics such as this. therefore, after thought was given, the black smoke tom fixed his bright, green gaze on this awful, grinning cat before him, and replied, with great enunciation, "penumbrakit, and i much appreciate your concern, but no, i am not lost." another cat may have seen this quiet, boldly determined reply as cuteness, or sillyness, but penumbrakit saw it for what it clearly was: a spectacular display of his eloquence and self control in an extreme instance of what should be sheer terror, but was not, due to his levelheadedness.[/size]
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oh -facepaw- edited ^^
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