Posts by Krymson

LOL :P

So yeah... someone should post. :P

Crescent cast his steely gaze over the assembled cats. It was time they had left, he decided and he stood, looking around at them all. He had hoped to be back before the Clowder had started to wake up, but it seemed that wasn't going to happen, what with all the stirring in the dens. His gaze fell on the Novice den, his heart warming slightly. Echo was probably still asleep... the young she-cat had always liked to sleep in in the mornings, even as a kit. He shook his head and flicked his tail to the patrol group.

"We're heading out," he said quietly, leading the way to the Camp entrance - nothing more than an alleyway - and proceeded to pad through it, stepping lightly over the garbage they had tried to clean out of their camp.

Haha, Sure. Scrap it.

And I posted. The Patrol is setting out.

Uh.... I should probably make that... One sec

here: http://warriorcatsrpg.com/twol…-only-113122.new.html#new

(Copied from the main Thread, the Patrol setting out)

Crescent cast his steely gaze over the assembled cats. It was time they had left, he decided and he stood, looking around at them all. He had hoped to be back before the Clowder had started to wake up, but it seemed that wasn't going to happen, what with all the stirring in the dens. His gaze fell on the Novice den, his heart warming slightly. Echo was probably still asleep... the young she-cat had always liked to sleep in in the mornings, even as a kit. He shook his head and flicked his tail to the patrol group.

"We're heading out," he said quietly, leading the way to the Camp entrance - nothing more than an alleyway - and proceeded to pad through it, stepping lightly over the garbage they had tried to clean out of their camp.

Sadface..... :(

Who did she play?

I like it! Accepted!

I'm okay with continuing the Caroline and King plot.

Wait, what do you mean?

AH. Okay... Yeah I suppose. We are picking up on other cat - bird - on the patrol as well.

Please, future applicants, make your cat already a member. I know I said I'd make an exception for kits and she-cats but I'd prefer if it was a rare occurrence. Thanks.

"After you, Crescent."

Crescent turned, his slitted yellow eyes falling upon his Right Hand and nodded. His thick black fur fluffed out against the cold, he padded quickly along the frozen road, ignoring the stinging in his paws as they touched ice. How he couldn't wait for the arrival of summer and all her glory, the heat pressing down on his back, bringing life and excitement. Also, the humans took better care of the roads then, even down here in the less active parts of the city. That was something he always admired about this place, they took better care of their roadways.

He'd seen some other alleys in his time, back when he was young and foolish, invincible as it were. He'd left the Clowder for several months to roam the streets, searching for himself. In the end, he realized his father and his father's father had set up camp at that spot for a very clear reason. It was much better than the other places out there. Well, a little better. City life was inherently dangerous.

At the sound of a slight scuffling, he froze, flicking his tail to the rest of the group. He dropped low, crouching just inches above the filthy ground. But, once his nose had gotten past the muck of the world - she-cat hit his nose. He flicked his tail again, and darted forward.

"What are you doing here?" He snarled, rounding on a young ginger she-cat. She was skinny, and looked as though she hadn't eaten in several days. She was also hardly a kit. He straightened up, signs of aggression dissipating. He would never harm a kitten, not one as scrawny as this. He waited for the rest of his patrol to come, come see this interesting sight.

Cold yellow eyes snapped to her, malice lurking within them, an underlying disgust that shot a swift pang of fear through her. This was the Tom that had chased her mother out of the clan, chased her out into the filthy streets, ripped her from her only kit stil living. She wondered, briefly, whether he knew this. Whether he knew that she was a kit of the cat he had chased out not so very long ago.

"Do you wish to speak out against me as well?"

While his voice was netural, devoid of hatred she could feel it in his gaze, in the way he looked down upon her, the way he held himself. Fearful, she took a step back, shaking her head quickly, biting her lip. She didn't want to be thrown out as well, she'd die. That she was certain of. All she'd wanted to know was what they were going to do to that she-cat... but now it seemed her mind was filling in the blanks.

Death of exile. She hopped it was the latter.

The she-cat that had spoke out caught her attention now. She was racing toward the Superior, her claws extended. She gasped. If she attacked, if she tried to harm, she'd be killed!

"Don't!" She cried.

She stood in the shadows, a longhaired tail curled neatly over small dainty paws. Colorless eyes peered out at the word, narrowed as they inspected the dirty world that she lived in. She sneezed, and fluffed up her fur, making her small thin body appear nearly twice the size – which, granted, still wasn’t much. Small ears flicked they heard another body moving around beside her. Another minute and a chocolate tabby exited the den and into the sunlight.

For a moment, Echo wondered why Ixia hadn’t seen her, but only for a moment. Of course, it was still dark in here, and it was hard enough to see white fur, let alone black. She yawned wildly, revealed small white teeth. Slowly, she unfurled, and stepped out into the harsh sunlight, her pitch-black fur suddenly glowing with a brilliant dark red hue.

“Hey, Ixia,” Echo greeted smiling at her. Looking now where the tabby’s eyes were, she noted that the patrol must have already left. Her father in the lead. Her father…

She shook herself, and started licking her chest, trying to banish the tumult of furious thoughts that seized her at the mere idea of him. Sure, he was a great leader, but he smothered her. Buried his daughter in rules and customs and regulations. He’d even had the nerve to tell her that he’d be announcing her mate to be shortly. She scoffed. As if she’d ever let him do that to her.

Crave, awesome! Thanks, and yes you can go ahead and start posting. :)

Dolly, there are a couple of issues. First of all, your profiles are not advanced profiles - which is a requirement for this RP. Secondly, your RP sample does not follow the rules of an Advanced RP. The requirement is a minimum of six sentences, that consist of in-depth description and not so much dialogue.

Example: (My first post in this RP)

So as of right now, your application does not meet the requirements.

Spider leapt back, the silver tabby fur on his neck standing straight. Angry, shocked, appalled. Those were the emotions that swept through him, driving him to unsheathe his claws, glaring furiously at the she-cat that had dared to attack Rust. What was that blasted feline thinking? Diving for the Superior like that? Not only did she attack him in front of them, the other males of the tribe, but she was so hopelessly outmatched, even if Rust had been alone.

His eyes narrowed on the rosetted she-cat that had drawn their attention to the group of she-cats standing there. She was young, younger than him for certain. And, from the way, she held herself and acted she was definitely still a kit, not yet at her sixth moon. He rolled his eyes. That was a sure way to get on Rust's bad side. Acting up before she was even considered a birther.

Beside him, he felt his Uncle rustle restlessly, his cold yellow eyes fixed almost hungrily on the she-cat that threatened the Superior. Noon totally loved Rust's idea of ruling, adored the way he made the she-cats serve him and others, nothing but tools to be disposed of at the moment they failed to perform. He hadn't had any kits yet though, or rather, none of his 'exploits' had fruited kittens that survived into adult-hood. Shame, Spider would have liked a cousin in order to hand out with.

He was frankly annoyed when Tiro leapt to stop the she-cat. He had really been looking forward to seeing the Superior attack her himself. But perhaps this was better... made an example of what happened when you went against Rust's rule. He too turned to Rust, waiting for him to bestow his judgment.

Crescent observed the kit - well, he considered her to still be a kit - rather amused by her confusion. True, Fury was a little odd, and by that he meant, quite a bit more friendly than the average Alley Cat, but her shock at being friendly approached by another cat seemed to be something that she had not been expecting. Not that he could blame her... the Clowder had a policy themselves of chasing out strays, not to mention what the loner would do to a little kit like this.

But that was only for toms, mind. She-cats were offered sanctuary - his policy. And the occasional tom kit, but only if they were young enough to be raised in the ways of the Clowder without much opposition. Nodding to Fury, Crescent stepped forward, looking down at the she-cat - who had called herself Nova.

"Nova." His voice was so much rougher than he meant, but hey, what can you do? "You have been found on our territory. You have two options. You may be escorted back to camp by one of my Mavens, or you may be chased out. Your choice."

“Don’t draw too much attention to us.”

Spice dropped her head, her dark ears lying submissively against her head. She hadn’t meant to—meant to make the Superior mad, hadn’t meant to draw their attention. She swallowed, her warm gold eyes pooling with fear and remorse. Remorse for speaking out. Fearful of the future.

Everything was happening too fast, she was being thrown into the cruel world too early, too roughly. All she wanted was to curl up, to forget that this ever happened. She wanted her mother; to press her face against her soft fur and let her troubles wash away.

But that wasn’t so. She was alone, in this cruel world. She turned to Lillide, and mewed softly, “My apologies. I didn’t mean to.”

OOC: Haha, thanks! I found the picture online and just cropped it and added text. :P

Username: Crymson Iris
Link to profile: Crymson Iris Profile

Questions: First of all, I love the idea. So, how would this work exactly? Would there be another thread in which Tail is journeying back to the Clan and meets Aspire etc? I assume so, but I thought I'd check to make sure. Also, does he have a love interest, will have one, or maybe had one in the past?

Additions: Perhaps some personality flaw to even him out? Right now it feels like he's a little "cliche", and he needs something to make him feel real. Perhaps he now has a crippling fear of water? Or, his drive for revenge makes him question his morals at times? But then, with the voice of scent in his head, he could have some sort of identity crisis deal? He thinks he's going crazy for a short time? Up to you, just throwing some ideas out there.

Also, for the memory issue? I am struck by how the Bourne movies did it, and I would probably emulate that. As in, he never really get his memories all back, but has brief flashes of them at odd times. Nightmares, bits and pieces. Sometimes he'll have an "attack" and go for a trip down memory lane? I'm kinda going with the idea that he hit his head on a rock and that's why he can't remember.

Why do you want Tail?: The Character sounds interesting, to say the least. Not to mention that he's like the hero of the story. I would like the chance to take a more "demanding" role, both for the sake of the story, but also testing my limits as a writer, practicing my ability to imagine out posts in a short amount of time. I also will have plenty of free-time the following few months and could use this as an outlet. Also, I'm slowly weeding out the one-liner posting (the regular RPing) and am trying to write Advanced RP exclusively.

RP sample:

Tail did not like water. Granted, no cat really was a fan of the stuff. It made fur twice as heavy, waterlogged ears, and - when swallowing boat-loads of the liquid - could give one a pounding headache. But Tail had a special issue with water, or at least, now he did. He supposed that happened when one was plunged into the icy depths after being attacked on the edge of a cliff. But somehow he couldn't remember if the cat had pushed him in, or he'd fallen in when he'd lost his balance. The memories were slipping away from him even as he tried to hold onto them, like trying to keep water in loose moss or in fur. It just dripped down until there was nothing left of what was before.

He could remember crashing into the water, after all how could he not? He'd been fighting the current for years now, or was it only an hour? A few minutes? Time no longer seemed to make sense. The only thought he'd managed to hold on to was that he abhorred water. It'd kept him kicking his feet, struggling to keep his head above the rapids. But everything was going fuzzy, nothing making sense. What direction was he facing? Was he above the water, or sinking deeper into the depths?

And then the spinning stopped. He was on ground, at least he thought so. He didn't feel underwater, but then again he wasn't sure about anything. His brain felt fuzzy, his stomach heaved with all the water he'd managed to swallow. Slowly, things started to make sense again, at least more than they had before. He opened his eyes. Lime green irises contracted to the smallest degree in the fierce sunlight that greeted him and it took a moment before he could see anything. He was still half-way in the water, his body caught on the shallow drift. He groaned and tried to roll over but stopped, crying out in pain.

His head was killing him. After a few moments - during which he considered retching, but managed not to - he came to conclusion that he'd hit his head on a rock. At least that's what it felt like. After the pounding had abated slightly, he got to his feet, looking around him. His tail was abnormally long, and always in an attitude of curling. He knew there was some significance to this, but he couldn't remember what it was...It had something to do with his name, right?

Oh no.

What was his name? How had he gotten here? He remembered something about hating water, about falling from a great height. But the details were lost to him, and everything before then was blank, empty, nothing. He sat down, worry creasing his brow. He couldn't remember anything.

"Fantastic..."

"It's okay. Do...do you want to tell me about your past? It might help."

Personally, Spice didn’t see what difference it made if she told her life story. There wasn’t much to tell anyways. She’d spent most of her life in the nursery, sheltered from the grim view of the outside world. She glanced at the birther, her warm golden eyes widening slightly in suspicious. She was cautiously optimistic in recent days.

The elder she-cat then nuzzled her gently and Spice felt herself melt at the warm touch of her. How had she craved this? This tender touch that said “I’m here for you.” Spice pressed her face against the she-cat’s golden pelt, curling up smaller against her.

“There’s not much to say,” she whispered. “Mum was an older birther – Frost – and I was the only one out of her last litter to survive. She couldn’t have kits again and so,” she faltered, her throat getting tight. “They chased her out a few days ago.” Another pause. “I’m only five moons… I’m not ready for this.”