Posts by Portlandtimbers

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    [font=comic sans ms]name: portlandkit » portlandpaw » portlandtimbers
    nicknames: portland, porty.
    gender: male
    sexuality: straight
    theme song: I wanna be rose city -- a timbers army chant
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    appearance: at the most basic wording, portlandtimbers is a blue mink tom with bright green eyes and a tall but thin frame. However, going deeper into this tom's appearance, you start to see some of the qualities that make him unique. Ready? Let's go.


    The nice shade of blue covering portlandtimbers's face, legs, and tail is a dark gray, with a hint of actual blue in it that surprises many who look at him, for it's not common in cats to look like that. if you have ever seen the color of the ocean off of the oregon coast, that's what color the 'mink' bits of porty's pelt are. a deep gray blue that can mesmerize you- if it wasn't dangerous.


    Then, that shade of blue fades into a paler hue, dancing along blurred edges until a cloudy-sky grey appears to coat the main body and belly of portlandtimbers's pelt, making him clearly mink and yet with almost invisible shading. there's no place at which you can point and say something like "oh, that's where his color changes." because his color only differentiates between shades and hues, not between actual colors, unlike you'd see on a black and white cat.


    Then, there are eyes. Green, like healthy grass or a tree in the summertime, shining out from within the blue-gray fields of fur that make up porty's pelt. bright foresty green, taking in everything around him and yet focusing on the single task at hand, pure black pupils at the center to top it all off.


    hiding beneath that expanse of pelt is a thin but tall frame, wiry and lithe at the same time, but stretching up to have a height that towers over quite a few cats by adulthood. his tail is long, a nuisance at times especially while running, but otherwise letting him be handsome enough that you could actually call portlandtimbers good-looking. a cat at his best in appearance, a cat at his prime. that is porty all the time.
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    personality: just as there are many players on a team, many characteristics make up a personality. Some work very well together- determination and naïveté, organization to the point of OCD. Others are less agreeable, like a mix of loyalty and discontent with life. Just as internal conflict can plague any team, it can too befall a cat.


    At one end of portlandtimbers's personality resides the idea of determination, bravery, and loyalty. If he wants to win, and oh he does, then porty will do everything in his power to triumph and by a long shot. The three points that get him to the top of the league one day are greatly desired by this tom, and he will most definitely try to win. However, even if he knows he cannot be victorious, portlandtimbers will try to get at least a tie on the books. not fearing failure, portlandtimbers will try and try until his final breath is taken.


    However, at the other end, there's discontent, disdain, and even naïveté on porty's list. despite generally having a pretty good life, especially at kithood, this tom is going to not be satisfied with what he has- he'll want more to his existence than just peace. give him two, he'll want four, give him four, he'll want eight. not greediness, exactly, though it can be mistaken for that characteristic- no, this is just plain wanting. he does think that he's 'better' than some of the others, because of his name, of his parentage, and of the fact that it's just the way he thinks. portlandtimbers gets really mad if he's beaten in any way by a creature he considers 'lower' than himself, even if it's just that the other one catches the first beetle in kithood. naïveté lets him be ignorant of the world, and of some of the dangers around him, which should make porty happy. but no, he wishes to know more of the clan world and to be more powerful than others. porty's naïveté, though positive at some times, simply clashes with his unrest about life.


    there you have it. portlandtimbers in a nutshell.
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    plots:
    my goal is for porty to have at least one litter, though he will not have a mate due to the discontent with life. he'll just have no reason to settle down, but it won't be rape either. more like one-night-stand.


    no more plots yet. i'll think of some.
    [color=green]other:

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    [font=euphemia UCAS][size=8][color=white] The sun had barely made its way towards the center of the sky, shining down on Portland as he crept forward. The heat was strong and sent warmth through the cat, but its heat wasn't enough to melt the thick layers of ice that sent chills through him. His claws grasped the slippery flooring, and the only noise coming from his soundless reps were the clicking of his claws against the hard, white surface.


    His short fur was no match for the freezing winds whistling through the trees; even the thickest of oaks were shaken. He approached a thin stream that flowed so quickly the temperature could not keep up with it to freeze. His eyes were like pine needles, starring into the water, trying to see through it. No matter how hard he looked, the gray stones that lay underneath were hidden from him; his eyes searched for the familiar silver flash of a fish. He worried that the water they did have was dirty, and where did that dirt usually come from? The terrible stink of nearby two-legs answered his hypothesis. Portlandtimbers retreated, trying to find a warmer place to hunt where prey may be venturing out of their nests.


    HIs mouth parted as he weaved along the undergrowth. The fresh forest scents mingled in the scent glands on roof of his mouth. Musty leaf mold mixed with the odors of pine needles that hung on the forever green trees; they stood out in the gray world of Leafbare.


    A flash of ginger caught his eye, followed by the fluffy tail of a squirrel. The wind had calmed itself, and sided with Portland. Blowing in the direction he need it to, his claws dug into the ice which was slightly melted due to the direct sunlight. He lifted a paw and took a long step forward; the tiny heartbeat of the creature beat like thunder in his ears. He stifled a rumbling stomach and swallowed. Fur rose on his spine as he pictured his fangs digging into the rich flesh of the animal.


    He froze, the familiar sound of the squirrel's tiny claws scratching against the ice. He ears pricked, but Portland did not dare to move. His muscles tense, the emptiness in his belly overruled his common sense. Portland leapt out to the other side of the oak, his paws outstretched to grasp his prey. The squirrel was too fast, its shadow already half way up the tree before Portlandtimbers could land. Angry bubbled inside him as he cursed under his breath.

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    [font=euphemia UCAS][size=8][color=white] A freshening feeling washed over the camp as the bright sun sent warm rays down to earth. Starclan had bless them with a short day of Greenleaf remembrance before the cold took its turn again. The air was crisp like the crunchy leaves that just begin to fall after summer ends. A thin layer of fog skirted the horizon and stretched far out to the lands around Blizzardclan.


    Portland parted his jaw and let the forest scents reach the roof of his mouth. The scents of leaf mold mingled with the familiar smell of his clanmates. Tail flicking impatiently, the tomcat padded swiftly to the center of the camp, the leaders' den across from him. He was tempted to grab a piece of prey from the pile, but saved it for those who needed it more.