Posts by NotAMuffin

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  • CRIMSONCLAN [RP thread// SU link included] In dire need of many positions


    [justify] [size=20pt]F[/size]oxpaw mumbled through his sleep that was slowly giving way to reality- his muzzle buried in his moss bedding. At the sound of his leader's authoritative voice, the young apprentice awoke with a start, lashing his tail in surprise at the sudden sound. Relishing in the familiarity of the apprentices' den and the smell of his clan, Foxpaw shook off the remaining traces of his slumber as he rose to his feet. Padding out of the den- realizing that everyone else was already awake- Foxpaw twitched an ear thoughtfully as he quickly came to the assumption that a gathering was being held. The tom walked nonchalantly over to the growing congregation of cats and sat dutifully, wrapping his unkempt tail around paws that were small with age.[/justify]

  • CRIMSONCLAN [RP thread// SU link included] In dire need of many positions


    [justify] [size=20pt]S[/size]tanding, Foxpaw brought himself to his full, unimpressive height as his name was called to the HighLog. The young apprentice bowed respectfully to his leader as he joined Crimsonstar, hearing himself assigned to Slycooper, a well respected warrior in the clan. Foxpaw cast an astonished glance at the tom, taken aback at how tall he was in comparison to his new apprentice. Letting the moment pass, Foxpaw made eye contact with the warrior and dipped his head dutifully, proud of his mentor. Determination shone in the young apprentice's eyes like hot coals- beset by only his own logical, and sensible, mind.[/justify]

  • *~Crimsonclan [open // advanced] IN DIRE NEED OF MANY POSITIONS~*

    [justify]



    ❤Username:
    NotAMuffin


    ❤Nickname/Display name:
    ♀NotAMuffin♀


    ❤Activeness:
    6-9
    :)

    ❤Muse:
    Usually pretty high, but if I ever get into a funk, I'll tell you guys.


    ❤Clan Plot Ideas: [appreciated]
    Dunno :P
    I voted for Murders so, um, *ahem*. I just may want to take some part in that.



    - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -



    ❤Name:
    Morningfrost



    ❤Gender:
    She-cat


    ❤Age:
    40 moons
    (3 years, 4 months)


    ❤Rank:
    Queen, currently


    ❤Wanted HP:
    Maybe she could be an Elite whenever she isn't in the Nursery?


    - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -



    ❤Appearance:
    [img width=510 height=382]https://lh4.googleusercontent.…isko7r4gzr1k=w739-h550-no[/img]


    True to her name, Morningfrost's fur was a brilliant white, which broke away to reveal various shades of a deep amber resembling that of icy-frost, melted, to unearth a ground painted in the morning sun's golden hues. With piercing, intelligent eyes the color of deep autumn, the she-cat can stare right through you. Her fur is soft and wispy, medium-lengthed everywhere but her bushy tail. Although she won't be kitting very soon, her stomach is noticeably swollen with new life.


    ❤Personality:
    The oldest queen in the nursery, Morningfrost doesn't have a strong faith in StarClan, preferring to rely more on herself. This independence likely comes from many happy moons of raising kits and seeing them off as young, bright apprentices. Wise and knowledgeable, albeit somewhat gossipy, the queen holds a high respect for the Clan leader, determined to serve her clanmates in any way she can. As respectful as she is, though, Morningfrost is very opinionated and outspoken, not afraid of saying what's on her mind. Being a queen in the nursery and older than some warriors, the she-cat is well respected in the clan and can often be seen chatting with the elders or debating with Goldenheart, who she has a strong connection to(If it's okay, could Morningfrost play the role of figurative older sister/adviser to Goldenheart since they're both queens?).


    ❤History:
    Born into the clan, Morningfrost learned quickly and showed a deal of potential. It wasn't long before she earned her warrior's name, at which point she had prove to be a valuable asset to the Clan. A skilled fighter and expert huntress, the she-cat enjoyed her days. Then, she took to the Nursery with her first litter of kits. However, tragedy seemed to befall Morningfrost as one kit was born ill and died soon after kitting. Not one to be deterred by life's hardships, the queen went on to raise the remaining kit, who became a fine warrior. Today, although her claws are as sharp as her brilliant mind, Morningfrost has to admit that she somewhat prefers the position of a queen over the duties of a warrior.


    ❤Character Plots:
    Hey, FootieBen, could Morningfrost be Sunclaw's mate? :)
    If there are murders, or whatever, I wouldn't be totally opposed to Morningfrost becoming one of the victims. It'd just have to be after her kitting, that is. I'm thinking she'll have two kits, a tom and a she... :)


    ❤Role-play Sample:
    Morningfrost kept her muscles tensed and long whiskers alert, her whole body expertly lowered to the ground. The she-cat hunted in cool, tall grass that was strewn with the morning's crystal dew. The ground was a pale, hazy blue as the sun's rays struggled to reach above the low horizon and to the forest that lay beyond. Ears flat to block out the near-by creek's wretched gurgling, Morningfrost let all the green, organic forest scents pass through her, before quickly locating that of a water vole's. Pinpointing her victim's estimated location, the huntress stalked forward on silent paws, her tail low. Through the receding brambles, the she-cat spotted the small creature with its coarse, brown fur. In a flash of claws and fur, Morningfrost captured and routinely silenced her prey. Lifting her tail in triumph, the young she-cat buried her water vole, resigning to take it back to camp later, before continuing her hunt, determination in her deep, autumn eyes.


    - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -



    ❤Other:
    nothing that I can think of! :)



    [/justify]

  • CRIMSONCLAN [RP thread// SU link included] In dire need of many positions

    OOC: Okay, thanks! :D



    F o x p a w


    [justify] Foxpaw, after the meeting, laced his way through the disbanding cats in search of his mentor. The young apprentice had every intention of going on a patrol to see the territory, which he was agonizingly unfamiliar with (low muse >m<).[/justify]



    M o r n i n g f r o s t


    [justify] Morningfrost dozed in the nursery, enjoying the rays of sunshine that escaped through the entrance of the den, chasing the lingering, morning cold away to be replaced with a pleasant, if not somewhat hazy, afternoon. Deciding this was the perfect time for a cat-nap (see what I did there), the queen positioned herself comfortably, before stretching with a yawn, and closing her eyes to dream of hunting through the lush forest.[/justify]

  • Radioactive and Crazy. (2 boys and 2girls needed.)

    Yeah, :)


    [move]
    Save my babies' lives! :)[/move]



    [img width=382 height=510]https://lh3.googleusercontent.…q7nmWKfS1ssbq4vo1_400.jpg[/img]


    D a m i a n


    [justify] Damian stumbled blindly out of the school's band room, his clothes splottered with blood. Everything had happened so quickly, the teacher, the other stud- The blonde-haired kid grabbed the blood-laden wall in front of him an promptly emptied the contents of his stomach. He had to get away. Damian began to walk down the hallway-massacre, keeping a shaking hand on the wall to steady himself as he went. As he stepped over the bodies of faculty and classmates alike. Eventually, he tried searching for other survivors, which resulted in the male calling out, his voice splitting with distress. "Hello?!" he called, "Is-is anybody out there?" It wasn't long before Damian gave up his search of the school grounds, which were impossibly huge. Slipping to his feet, he leaned against a locker. "Please, I just need somebody to be out there..."
    [/justify]

  • Radioactive and Crazy. (2 boys and 2girls needed.)

    [move]
    Save my babies' lives! :)[/move]



    [img width=382 height=510]https://lh3.googleusercontent.…q7nmWKfS1ssbq4vo1_400.jpg[/img]


    D a m i a n


    [justify] Damian started when he heard the voice, leaping to his feet. "I-I'm here!" he called out. The blonde male began down the hall he thought he heard the voice coming from. "Hello?!" He broke into a run at the prospect of another living being. Damian threw a glance at a door sign. "I'm in the East Wing of the school!"
    [/justify]

  • Radioactive and Crazy. (2 boys and 2girls needed.)

    [move]
    Save my babies' lives! :)[/move]



    [img width=382 height=510]https://lh3.googleusercontent.…q7nmWKfS1ssbq4vo1_400.jpg[/img]


    D a m i a n


    [justify] "No, no I'm okay." Damian couldn't help but notice the other male, despite the current crisis. He was kind of... cute. Damian pushed away the sudden flood of emotions- of finding someone else alive, and of who he found- and turned his tone as the weight of the situation began to weig upon his shoulders. "Everyone else is dead, I'm a wreck, but yeah- everything is absolutely fabulous right now." He couldn't force down the harsh sarcasm that quickly overtook the moment of relief. "Have you found anyone else?" Damian asked, trying to work a pounding headache out of his temples.
    [/justify]

  • The Worlds End ~Advanced~

    (Hey there, thought I'd sign up for the thread! The last one is just a WIP at the moment, but I'll finish her up, soon. Promise! :))



    Name:
    Erich (Eric) Reich (pronounce roughly as "Rike")
    His family name is very German


    Age:
    17


    Personality:
    Born a survivalist, Erich can only, for lack of a better word, be described as a "drifter," following the old Nomad-ways of not staying in one place for too long. Not much is actually known about him, likely due to a tight lip and a heavy past, but what he does share is only unsettling. You could say that sarcasm is his way of coping, a remedy to the tragedies of life. Erich is harsh, insensitive, but has an immense sense of morality and duty. Although, as convicting as he is, he's actually pretty sensitive to criticism, and his pride can get in the way sometimes. However, a few key-slaps of humility has taught Erich a lesson or two about life and its hardships. Erich actually strives to make connections and to form ties with other people, and he's often thought of joining one of the many groups he's come upon, but something in the back of his mind, hiding in the ugly, dank corners, is always whispering evils to him, telling Erich that he'll only screw things up. Again. Despite an otherwise stoic facade, Erich uses himself as a scapegoat, relying on blaming himself rather than another person.
    Fun Fact: In German, Erich's first name mean "alone" and his last name translates roughly to "world" or "realm," as in "alone in the world." The idea was proposed by his father, whose German roots ran strong, and his mother took to it instantly, finding it eerie. Little did they know that, eventually, this would become an aptronym of their son.


    Background:
    Erich used to be happy, once. All the time, and he knew how to laugh, how to lay off the cigarettes. But, then again, that was a long time ago, too long.
    Their names:
    Hans and Sally Reich, Markus Reich
    And they were dead.
    To Erich, they were Dad, Mom, and Little Brother. Now, they are Unmarked Grave One, Two, and Three. Year one of the outbreak, they scraped by. No one died, no one was lost. But then, Erich and Markus's parents died of some sickness, some illness, they couldn't possibly know how to cure. They died of malnutrition. The then-fifteen Erich knew that it was his fault, that his parents forfeited their meager rations so that their children could remain fed. Maybe that was when he first started blaming himself. From then on, Erich and his three-year-younger brother reeked in the desolate city's walls, skulking from bleak place to unsettlingly bleak place like an ugly stench that refused to dissipate. Erich played the protector, trying his hardest to provide for his ailing brother. A short 300-some days later- Erich was alone, again. It was his fault- it had to be. The worst part of it all? Erich actually felt a sickening cloak of relief wash over him when he no longer had to carry the burden of anyone else. There was a distinct absence of the weight of human life and flesh on his shoulders, which Erich had just barely managed to retain a steady grip on. That's probably why he hates himself so much now. It's his fault, his fault, his fault. It has to be.


    Crush:
    Pfft.
    When you see someone who even ranks on the Kinsey Scale, send a signal flare.


    Pic:

    You don't see too many smiles such as these, anymore.
    With him, Erich carried a heavy, metal baseball bat slung across his shoulder messenger bag-style, and a hunting knife strapped to his belt. On his left side, there dangles on old and beat-up-looking gas mask from a pants loop.




    Name:
    Juno "June" Marlowe


    Age:
    18[size=1]1/2[/size]


    Personality:
    "Humble, yet cold." The most suitable words to stitch upon a description of June Marlowe. Standoff-ish and a bit eccentric, don't mistake her bad temperament for detachment or hostility. Juno thrives under the contact of others, and is really best suited for group work. She's decent enough with a gun, but prefers to stay and watch the younger kids, or to cook or do laundry for the rest of the team. She doesn't mind a few chores and is handy to keep around. If you could just get past her overbearing sense of self-dignity, you'll uncover a truly honest loyal friend. Sarcasm can go a bit over her head sometimes, but Juno knows how to laugh things off. Although, don't get on her nerves or you'll have hell to deal with. Her memory is extraordinary and June never forgets a face- or a grudge. The few unlucky souls that are in her good graces probably don't appreciate her blunt ways of threading things and her lack of fear to speak her mind. Nonetheless, Juno "June" Marlow is a vital addition to the group.
    Fun Fact: She actually has pretty bad eyesight, as she is near-sighted, but lost her glasses back when the apocalypse first began. She doesn't actually tell anyone this, but some people have begun to suspect...


    Background:
    Juno actually spent half of her life in Oklahoma, running a small self-sustaining farm. She walked to and from the local school, and she knew how to care for the animals and for the staple crops. Her mother and her held a sweet vegetable garden on the side of their country-home, and they prepared fresh meals daily. However, with America becoming more and more of a Consumer's Economy, they couldn't find ways to make enough money for a respectable living. Juno and her parents sold the farm and moved into the city. One day, though, after a huge fight the relationship between Juno's parents began to deteriorate. Before long, her father left and never returned. It wasn't much longer until Juno's mother remarried, to some brute who's vocabulary consisted only of vulgar words and crashing insults. When the apocalypse started, things only got worse. One day, she'd had enough. Juno walked out of that house without a single glance back, resigning to never return. Her mother had always said that she was so much like her father. I guess she was right.


    Crush:
    Juno is an independent woman who don't need no man!
    ... But it would be nice...


    Pic:

    June keeps her hair short and her temper shorter.
    Don't piss her off.


  • Executions [sign up jump in]

    Hallo! o: I'm in the mood for some dramatic deaths, who's with me?! :D


    Name:
    Lyle Broker


    Age:
    17


    Prisoner or executioner?:
    Prisoner

    Crime (if prisoner):
    Stole bread from a Royal Guard(Considering if this is a monarchy) and committed heresy by practicing a forbidden religion is secret, as well as refusing to reform from said religion(assuming Roman Catholicism is banned)


    Sentence (Again, if yo're a prisoner):
    Torture via whipping(hands tied to a post, etc), and then drastic dismemberment as the Death-Sentence(so, he'd technically either die from bleeding out or when his body goes into shock).

  • Executions [sign up jump in]

    Lyle, despite his towering height, sat small in the rusted cage. He felt beaten. And now, he was facing imminent death. Well, maybe it'd be over quick... The boy winced as he heard the thud of an ax being swung and the sudden silence of the last girl who had been pulled from the cages. Lyle sent up a silent prayer for the young girl, distraught at the idea of such a young life being extinguished. Then again, he was next.

  • Executions [sign up jump in]

    Lyle gritted his teeth in a threatening snarl, but it was lost in the cheer of the crowd, screaming for an encore. Lyle was taller, stronger at some point- but now his head drooped and he felt weak. The eyes of the assembled crowd bore into him. "What are you going to do to me?" he hissed. Apparently he hadn't gotten the memo.

  • Executions [sign up jump in]

    Lyle bit down hard as he forced himself not to scream at the searing pain that spread through him. His neck was on fire, and it spread all around his body. Clenching his fists, Lyle tried to bring his mind somewhere else, but with each stroke of the whip, he was pulled back to reality.


    (Maybe I'll make a torturer soon :))

  • Executions [sign up jump in]

    Lyle's grunts of pain quickly morphed into undignified screams as agony flooded his vision and his sight became hazy. There was a serious danger of him passing out. Through the fray, Lyle had bitten his tongue hard, and his mouth flooded with blood. Lyle mustered the courage to look out at the audience, trying to find some form of sympathy, but all he saw was primal blood lust. "S-Stop!" Lyle groaned, pleaded, desperately.

  • Executions [sign up jump in]

    Lyle couldn't remember much of what had just happened, but he found himself twisted at an awkward angel, on the ground, in an ever-growing pool of his own blood. He was facing the other cages. Making eye contact with the two prisoners cowering together, he couldn't help himself but to give a bloodied grin that seemed to say "I'm alright." Maybe it was an act of bravery, or delusional. Lyle's body felt heavy and his head was hazy and feverish. Lyle looked at his torturer. "C-Come 'ere..." he barely managed to whisper. He had something he wanted to say.

  • Executions [sign up jump in]

    Lyle's body went into spasms as the unbearable pain returned and blood seeped from his lips. He had a bit more wiggle-room, since only one arm was bound now, but the jerking movements only made things worse as the knife cut ruggedly into Lyle's tongue.