* Marked for AC
** Needs to be Promoted
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A n g e l_ E ' T a n i -- Sandblaze290
Silently, one by one, in the infinite meadows of heaven. Blossomed the lovely stars, the forget-me-nots of the angels. Angels are pure and loving. They gaze down at the earth. Sometimes they're guardians for others. Well, not this angel. Her ice-blue eyes can be seen on the most darkest night. Her slender shape is hard to distinguish through the dark undergrowth. Light gray fur with black markings that are softer than silk. A dash of white the shape of a water droplet on her chest and a white tail tip. This angel sounds absolutely perfect. But she's not. This she-cat can be sarcastic, rude, and downright menacing. She's strategic and cunning. Angel desires power. And she isn't that power hungry. But she's hungry enough. This cat can kill and she can do it well. She enjoys the satisfaction of sinking her teeth into her enemies' necks and tasting blood. To her she must always be victorious. She knows when to retreat and to stop, but she always has a plan. She is good at hiding her emotions and cats can't seem to break her hard stone barrier she uses to block away cats. At a young age she was abandoned. Her father lived in one of the clans and she searched for him after her mother abandoned her. She succeeded in finding him. He thought she was a nuisance though and ignored her. Angel murdered him in his sleep at night and fled. Then, a few moons later she joined Primal Instinct. There, she could finally spread her wings and be free. The dark angel is victorious once again.
{ Mate : N/A }
{ Kits : N/A }
R y s s a -- xx.sapphire
They say the worst things in life come free to us - well, this nightmare comes with a price. She's of a higher intelligence than most, and she uses that to her own advantage. She acts for herself and nobody else. She's a master manipulator, and an excellent actress. She is strong in something that most cats lack in - self control. She's able to roll with the punches and save her revenge for a later date. Concealed in a delicate shell are powerful muscles, in her dainty paws are instruments of murder. Her eyes are most likely her most intimidating feature. They are the shade of a brilliant blue with enthralling gold specks within them. Her fur is intricate, a shade of silver during the day. However, when bathed in moonlight, her fur is illuminated like none other, glowing in her glory. Being near her is hard. She can drive you insane with her clever words and infuriating indifferent attitude. It's hard to draw out any emotion from her. Usually when you meet a headstrong feline like her, you can peel back the layers and find an actual soul there. With her, you just keep peeling, but you never find anything. She doesn't trust anyone but herself. She has ambitious plans for herself, and she fully intends to realize those goals in time, no matter how long it takes. She takes her position as Proxy seriously, though she knows that she fully deserves it. Ever since she arrived at the league, cats had given way to her. She was superior to them all, to put it bluntly. Others hate her because she's beautiful, intelligent, and became a Proxy no problem - a triple threat. She's got it all - fame, fortune, looks, and more. However, Ryssa has never gotten a big head about herself. She has never bragged, nor flaunted anything in someone's face, for she knows all too well how easily something could be snatched from even the tightest grip. I suppose that brings us into her past, yes? Not much to say. Ryssa is an only child as far as she's concerned. She had a brother and a sister, whom are good as dead to the Proxy. Ryssa never speaks of her sister, who was always the perfect one in her parents' eyes. She doesn't mention her brother, either, who got all the attention. Ryssa was the youngest, thusforth the forgotten one. Determined to make something of herself, she escaped her parents and ran. At first, she joined Toxicity as a Novice, but that didn't work out due to complications with her mentor, who attempted to use her for his own pleasure, and then made her seem insane when she tried to speak out. 'What doesn't kill you makes you stronger, right? Ryssa struggled to hang on to that quote as she lived on her own. She had a run-in with her mother, a mother who never loved her. Ryssa killed her mercilessly, not bothering to ot bothering to show mercy. Horrified at her deed, Ryssa vowed to never kill again. That lasted for a day. Eventually, the beautiful feline refined her skills, perfecting her kills, and learned how to slit a throat without leaving a trace of her presence. She was ready for the big game - Primal Instinct. Or so she thought it was big game. From the moment she joined, she'd been the talk of the clan, and after she became Proxy after being with the league for such a short amount of time only fueled the gossip fire. Ryssa was constantly the center of attention, and the feline didn't even have to try. She merely breathed. She is dedicated to the league, condescending to those inferior, and respects her two only superior - the Nemesis. She knew she wouldn't have any superiors soon enough.
{ Mate : Scape }
{ Kits : N/A }
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G r e e n -- ifaith1
Life is time, and it doesn't matter how much time you got cause your always losing it, your hour glass is full from the moment your born and from then on it dwindles down to that one grain of sand. The Grim Reaper knocks on everyone's door, it's not a thing to avoid, it's a thing to keep in mind. Every moment is a gift, that's why it's called the present. It doesn't take a selected breed of cats to take a life, but it takes a very selected mental abuse to your brain to kill and kill again as if it were a daily task. It's not my right to decide who lives or dies, but you know I'm not afraid to. I'm the cat that will find you in your weakest hour, you won't want to see me then. But in your darkest hours you will, I'm honorable, I'll assist with the price that you owe me in the future cause that's how I gambol in life. If it's nature for a wolf to kill is it evil? I'm a tall thin slender she-cat with enviable looks, I have a fox like appearance, with polished olive brown and morning amber glossy fur with green grass stains blended in, with a long satin stranded tail. My voice is a song angelic, alluring with passion and the song wild with a "I'm trouble but I know you like it" attitude. Every rose has it's thorns and mines will make you bleed. I was born a fierce kit upon a bridge of innocence, I watched it crumble everyday, it's a shame that I couldn't be, that perfect little angel everyone wanted me to be. I tend to live too fast, I learn everything there is cause I want to know it all, I want to live life in the moments because everyday could be my last.
{ Picture of character } .
S c a p e -- Terraminator
This tom's lanky figure really does do justice to his name, as his tawny, vaguely-striped pelt resembles the fur of a sloth, and his lazy green eyes are never on the task at hand. He seems a little too thin for someone who works so little and eats so much, but his attitude makes up for the lack of weight. With a voice that's charismatic and carefree, he sounds almost like a religious radio host, able to convince others of nearly anything. Scapeclaw has a kind demeanor and an inviting face that is always smiling. He seems to be popular, but gets on the bad side of others very quickly, never living up to his promises or completing any tasks. However, he has a way of using his words to "make up" for his laziness, and is therefore rather well-liked and admired for his tranquility. Despite his sloth and reluctance, once actually on his feet and active, his sleek fur allows him an aerodynamic speed and swift thrash. His energy usually wears out fast and he is quick to quit a job, unless it is offered with a large reward. Greed is his only motivation.
R a k e -- Deatheye
Life is but a nightmare, death will wake you.
A copy is never as sharp as the original. Returning from the dead only blurs the picture further, let alone twice. Those born in the cover of darkness can not venture into the revealing, blinding light, lease he be blinded and torn apart from the inside. His soul is not pure, tainted by loss and the murder, he is cold. As intelligent as he is strong, and more fearsome than he is strong. He uses his logic to find the gap in any cats armor, no matter how small and use his awesome strength to finish them. A pelt like black silk draws the light, only to quench it like water to flame, leaving it as black as midnight. The sharp red eyes of dark ruby that mark his bloodline glow like molten lava, hungry and destructive like fire. All he has known through life is that of the battlefield, nothing more. Obeying orders given to him by a superior without hesitation or regret. The perfect soldier. His name Deatheye is no more, a symbol of the past. Once darkness envelops you, never again can you seek the safety of light, of peace. For darkness consumes all.
___M a g p i e -- Peacockfortune27
We all know dreams are filled with misty paths and confusing nonsensical story lines. But what if your dreams are something more? A mind of their own, some how like a blurry realism. Magpie has a hard time telling what's in front of her eyes from what is in her nighttime illusions. You'll hear her looking for some cats that sound like they've never existed in the morning, and if you know her at night she'll hardly mention her time in PI at all. Magpie lives in split worlds, not dead nor alive. This all started when a cat called Foxwillow died of a dog attack sixty years back, protecting her clan, Dayclan, and went to Starclan. Then when Mouse kitted one fateful night, Foxwillow's spirit was split in half. Whenever Foxwillow is asleep, she dreams she's Magpie, and when Magpie dreams she is Foxwillow. They are still, however, the same cat... It works out though, since Foxwillow spends all of her time during the day asleep, and Magpie spends the night sleeping. Confusing? Makes sense, since no cat has been able to figure it out either. For the most part, despite this stressful life, Magpie is a happy go lucky she cat. She has a slightly shy personality, that contrasts with her ambitious nature. Once you get past her quiet outer-shell, she could easily be considered a great leader because of her ability to stay calm and collective during intense situations. She, however, has no wish to lead anyone. Instead, her true goal is to fallow in the footsteps of her Idol, Mouse, her mother, and become Shaman. Magpie finds herself seemingly ''chosen'' to be the next in the line of female healer, because of her amazing 'supernatural' dreams and the fact that the previous litter of kits failed to be chosen by Mouse. Okay, maybe her ideas are a /bit/ over the top, but all in all she proves to be very dedicated to trying to learn the arts of healing. Her only true worry is trying to find herself a mate. She does't see herself as pretty, but as an alternative flip side to her practically twin sister, Meerkat. Her fur is a solid grey, such a color her mother has. Magpie looks delicate still, with her tiny frame. She always walks with her fluffy tail up looking dignified, as if she was queen. Then comes the only trait that really sets her off from her sister, her eyes. She really hates them, despises them, and thinks their hideous, but her yellow eyes are really the color of sunflower leaves. They look absolutely delicate. They also seem too show some kind of fracture, as if they could show you the ripped spirit Magpie really is. The side of her dreams that are hidden by the grey body of a shaman's daughter. Like the shadow of a magpie's wing.
Mate {{ unknown }}
Kits {{ None }}
___N o n e -- Username
{ Picture of Character } .
Ali -- xx.sapphire
Do you know the definition of perfect? Now you do. With her blonde fur and crystalline blue eyes, she's a real hit. She's condescending at times, but she's pretty popular amongst the league. Her life is picture perfect, and she works hard to maintain that status. Everyone wants to be Ali, but many want to kill her as well. She takes great joy in torturing others, using their deepest secrets against them. Her home is the league, but her loyalty lies to herself.
Amity -- valiance.
An orange tabby she-cat with dark brown eyes. She's a relativity friendly cat, never shy, always welcoming and bright. She's a good supporter, but lacks the skills of a flawless leader. She's not courageous, nor brave. But she has a strong determination, and the eye for justice. She's just like any other ordinary clan cat; loyal, trustworthy, honest.. Though, she is a bit more independent than most of her clan-mates. She has a small bit of silent arrogance in her, always knowing that she is better in a way, but never voicing those thoughts aloud.
Ari - eccentric.
Fluffy fur, perhaps too fluffy. Ari hates her fur, it's hard to take care of. Some she-cats enjoy plumes of golden fur, and are envious of hers. In all honesty, though, if she could, she would shave it all off. She has no interest in beauty. It's a shame, really. She's a tom-boy to the core, and that makes her feel ugly. Why? None of the cats she likes to associate have to worry about thick pelts. None have to constantly clean theirselves, just to keep their fur from matting. The golden-eyed she-cat sees it no more than a hassel. Ari is generally friendly. She likes to be with people, she has a bit of an anxiety with being alone. It's because she was abandoned as a kitten. If she wasn't, some figure that she'd be just another cat, without the anxiety of being alone for too long. She really does have the fear of being left. It makes her wish to travel in a pack. She tends to socialize more with tom's than she-cats, she finds them less hormonal and generally better to understand. She doesn't understand she-cats a lot. She doesn't understand how cats could be so self-obsessed with perfection. She's horrified by the fact others spend hours grooming her just to groom her. Ari hates that.
Aylia -- xx.sapphire
The best word to describe her would most likely be a princess. No, that's inaccurate. The queen. An evil, naughty, tactical queen. Aylia is a miniature replica of her mother, Katie. Long, calico fur coats her slender form, topped off with soft brown eyes that turn honey gold in the sunlight. She has quite the temper, and isn't afraid to put anyone in their place. She acts superior to all, but she doesn't flaunt it. Just in how she speaks and walks, cats can tell she's above them. She's intelligent, intuitive, and intellectual when it comes to combat. She targets cats' weaknesses and uses them against them in verbal spiffs, and she's smart when it comes to those bigger than her. She often chastises her inferiors when they do wrong. She strives to be the Nemesis of Primal Instinct one day. Her preamble is complicated. She was born an accident. Her mother, Katie, had miscarried her and her brother, Rhaego. Or so they thought. Her father, Origin, was ignoring Katie, and they grew apart. The final straw was an affair between Katie and Asher, which Origin discovered, and died in dismay. Though nobody knows it, her brother, Rhaego, is a reincarnation of Origin, and Aylia herself is a reincarnation of Origin's sister. Because there is no other father figure in her life, Aylia looks up to Asher and thinks that he is her biological father. She has yet to learn the truth.
Battler -- Light_In_My_Dream
Rest In Peace. That's what he says every time he is forced to kill another living thing, whether it be prey for food or an enemy cat that was just trying to take his life. He truly doesn't pity them once they die, but he believes that every living thing deserves to be set free from the bonds of life after passing. Battler is a quiet cat that usually keeps to himself, and his circle of friends is almost nonexistent. He has a large body frame and pale gold fur that glimmers like polished gold in the sunlight. His eyes are a deep dark azure that stare deep into your own like a mirror, reflecting everything.
Blayde -FyrnShadowstar
Blayde is a black cat with a white muzzle and a nicked ear. A long scar runs down his shoulder, breaking up the blackness of his fur. His sleek fur slides silently through the water and his icy blue eyes are sharp and cold. Blayde's parents were killed when he was 6 moons old, leaving him orphaned. His heart has been hardened from survival on his own. Blayde is not a cat you want to be on the bad side of. He doesn't back down from a fight, if he's not going to get killed fighting it. He's smart and resourceful and has his ways of getting things done.
Blink -- ~•Łëõ•~
Blink is a small cat. And although Blink is small he gives other cats quite a scare. Ironically Blink…cannot blink! His eyes are fixed permanently open due to an injury as a kit. Added to that is the color of his eyes. Blink has curious redish colored eyes. Cats describe them often as hell colored. Blink has dark charcoal gray, almost black, fur with tiny white stripes on the left side of his chest, right legs, forehead, ears, and tail. He has very precise markings that often get confused for scars because of the delicate placement and size. Blink is quiet and doesn't talk much. He gives off the air of innocence at first, and maybe he is a bit. But Blink does know the ways of the world and is ready for any battle. He leaves his opponents in shambles.
Blizzard -- Wolverinequeen
A frozen wind, studded with stones of ice. The cold is absolute, the wind is relentless. A cat with eyes as hard as flint, a cat with a heart of stone and ice. This is one tom cat you don’t want to mess with. His silver fur with jet black tabby stripes makes him quite handsome, while his golden yellow eyes only define his looks even more. He is charming, charismatic, and seems to be an all-around good cat – until you get to know him. He is in actuality, a liar, a cheat, a murderer, a thief, anything you can be that makes others feel pain. Blizzard is cruel and cold-hearted. He’s the kind of cat that would feed a kit to a fox, just to hear its cries of agony. He would skin his own mother, just to line his nest with the fur. He will do anything, as long as he profits in the end. He can twist you around to his way of thinking without trying, can set best friends against each other with a few well-placed words and can make you think that his is the injured party. He has a silver tongue, good looks and stunning manners, so it’s no wonder so many are under his spell. He is wicked and cruel and would betray anyone. No matter who they were. But he might spare his sister, who saved him once. But only maybe. If the time comes, will he be loyal, or will he destroy the one cat that truly trusts him? Only time will tell.
Bonnibel -- Terraminator
A beauty burns deep inside, moreso than a raging fire, but is cooled by the pristine water. Polar opposites attract, and compliment each other like flame and ice, but can sometimes clash and destroy whatever lays in their path. This describes the she-cat quite well. There is a subtle beauty about her, not quite as noticeable as the average pretty girl. One look at her face could not encompass all that she is. It would take a madman or a scholar to perceive the many layers there are to her, hidden under a sort pelt of black and white with vibrant blue eyes to match. She walks with a grace to each step, a stride to the way she moves that allows her to be quicker than most without fumbling over her own paws. She is intelligent, but knows when to hide it in order to disguise her advantage. She is on the smaller side, though her fluffy fur makes her seem larger, when in reality she is very young, just over the apprentice age. Bonnibel's voice is the feature that draws the most attention to her, however. Back when she lived with the clans, she was named Nymphsong for her beautiful, melodious voice - similar to the sound of the ocean lapping against the shore, or the cry of a mourning dove at daybreak. It is unusual, her love of sound, but she uses it well. Her voice is powerful yet calming when she sings, and draws attention whenever she speaks. Although she may not be immensely gorgeous like other she-cats, her voice absorbes that beauty and becomes something of its own. Bonnibel has a past that she doesn't find worth her time to describe, so she keeps that to herself. There is one secret she would never want to reveal to a soul; she is the niece of Scape, the Primal Instinct assassin. Born to Annias, the elder of Scape's litter, she was raised well. Annias never hurt her, however he had no knowledge of how to be a good father, so he gave her up to a clan where she could be properly taught how to survive in these harsh conditions. Bonnibel didn't mind the clans, but it was the cats that bothered her. Much like her uncle, she isn't one who's fond of working, but at least she knows how to toughen up and get over that laziness. She actually despises Scape, being the only one who remembers his true past - about his mate and children. The fact that he forced himself to forget and ran away from the rest of his family before she even grew up made him seem weak, and Bonnibel was taught never to be weak if she was given another option, although she is usually quite timid.
Bristol -- xx.sapphire
Lie, kill, and lie again. That's all she's ever known. Bristol is a complicated feline, though to outsiders, her life is as simple as lie, kill, lie. Her life is built around lies. Both her parents were liars as well. She was her father's daughter. Let's say her father is a 'ladies man'. She has too many half-sisters spread out around the land. She had three in the Tribe before it disbanded. She has one in nearly every clan, and some she doesn't even know. She's never met her mother, but her father lives in Toxicity. She has auburn fur, almost a reddish shade, and brilliant blue eyes. She's known for her deceitful approach, able to produce a lie quicker than a spider produces thread. She has one full brother, Trek, who also resides in Primal Instinct. Their relationship is bittersweet. Both of them are tied together by their father, but they aren't that close. They treat one another like friends in a fight, cordial and polite yet fury burning underneath. She's extremely fast, always winning a race, though she isn't the brightest, she's still cold and calculating. She has a gift for reading cat's emotions, and even better at hiding her own. Ever seen a snake in a feline form? Now you have.
Casper --~•Łëõ•~
~•Łëõ•~Caspar is a fluffy white tom with light gray patches. Caspar may seem like a rather cute and cuddly kitten from afar. However, as you get closer you'll notice those icy blue eyes of his. Cold and unfeeling. Caspar is sadistic by nature. He enjoys acting as other cats' allies and then ripping them from the inside. He is a very formidable foe. Although he is quite small in stature Caspar makes up for what he lacks in strength with his nimble speed. He is ruthless when it comes to fighting and doesn't allow his enemies to leave his presence without a ghastly wound. He is a not so friendly ghost in the shadows.
Celestina -- xx.sapphire
A name that means ''of the sky; heavenly.'' A personality that spells death. She'll be straight with you, no matter what position you hold in her life. She'll be blunt, she'll hurt your feelings, she'll have no regrets or second thoughts about her words. She's not all talk, though, for hidden within her paws are instruments of death. Claws sharper than torture, sharper than death, which is all they bring when connected with a victim. Her fangs are curved slightly to just the right angle, perfect to tear into the flesh of her prey of any kind - cat or mouse. She's more of the type of cat to stick with herself, trusting nobody, and will often push away the advances of toms. Her fur is white with silver flecks, her eyes a stormy grey, almost a pale blue.
Certain -- ☼Radiation☼
"Are you almost certain he is going to survive?" That was the only thing his mother every said about him, for days later she died. A moon later his father got a new mate. She frowned upon him, for he was the only one that lived. A reminder of His fathers first mate. She called him a fly, a pesky little fly. He could take it anymore. He ran far away to NightClan. He told them he was a fly. They named him Littlekit, because of his size as a kit. He grew comfortable there. But then his father and his mate came to NightClan. He then moved to WinterClan. There he got his warrior name Littlefly. Because of his fur a dark brown black or the color of a fly. It still stuck with him. Slowly he left the territory more and more often. Finally one day he didn't come back. He had found Primal Instinct and watched them for a few moons. One night he got a dream from his mother. It was when she asked if he was going to live. That is why when they asked his name he said it was Certain. They let him in. He seems cold and harsh on the outside. But if you look into his silver eyes you can see the truth he just wants to be loved.
Chet -- Loki'd!
Even in a black and white world, a grey area always exists. Chet lives in that grey area -- not just in mind, but in body as well. The fine, silky fur that cascades over his limber body is colored like ash, and highlights of cream accent his muzzle and slide down to his chest. His indigo gaze is rather murky and dark, yet it retains a youthful vigor. Despite the bright gleam in Chet's eyes, the weight of lack of family has weighed his heart down. His father, Meelo E'Tan, died from an unknown illness, while his mother, Calypso, disappeared one day with his three siblings, Cora, Crow, and Wren. Unfortunately, Chet cannot look to previous generations for aid either, His paternal grandparents, Chet and Belle, are both deceased, and his maternal grandmother, Esmeralda Thorn, disappeared long before his parents met. This, along with the legacy of his father and grandfather, has left him strained to become the best he can -- it has left him shattered and broken.
Clementine -- -Earthbound-
Sweet, not sour, with barely any acidic taste, maybe you could say clementine's are the ideal fruit? Or maybe you can't stand them, and just hearing the name makes your hair stand up on end? Of course, liking or disliking something is nothing but your opinion, and Clementine doesn't have time for opinions. Especially opinions about her. This she-cat knows who she is, knows she isn't perfect, and knows that no one is. Clementine is one of those loner types, when she was younger in Primal Instincts and had a very shy personality and was picked on due to this. She grew up without friends most of her life, and the shyness she once had disappeared into anger. Hatred. Silence. She keeps to herself, barely ever letting others know what is on her mind, and when she does speak, her sentences are usually to the point. Because she was alone most of her life, it gave her more time to focus on training, to sharpen her skillsets to the best she possibly could get them. Her smooth, glossy orange pelt sleeks over her thin body with ease, accommodating her quick movements. She trained her amber colored eyes to always be alert to every small movement, whenever and where ever. She adapts rather quickly to her surroundings, and is a cat of substance, letting her actions speak loud than her words. Mature easily comes to mind when thinking of Clementine. But don't forget, mature is nothing but an opinion.
Coda -- nocturne.
Coda Finale, his full name means a jump to the finish, a swift end in the midst of a beautiful song. A song that -- in this case -- would be life itself. And with that thought as a life motto of sorts, Coda Finale -- or Coda, for short, although he has yet to be convinced to shorten his name officially -- believes that the course of life is volatile, subject to change. And his plan is to follow this course to where it leads him, surfing upon fate as best he can while living life to the fullest before the swift end that he believes will inevitably come -- sooner or later. Almost described as one who is lacking a sense of responsibility, Coda is a wanderer at heart, body and soul, content in seeking refuge wherever he feels a calling towards. And it was that ‘calling’ that drew him to Primal Instinct, a group that he found absolutely intriguing, from its cats to their laws, their unique style of living. Coda Finale himself was born a rogue, no longer having any ties with his parents or siblings. Left to fend for himself at a young age, he was a free traveller, never stopping in a place for longer than what he felt was necessary. But upon discovering Primal Instinct, he decided to obtain permission to stay, agreeing to adopt their policies and way of life. Personality wise, Coda is a bit of a strange cat, volatile yet hiding his instability with an outward calm. Usually carefree and relaxed, he is able to start up a conversation randomly and hold it as long as necessary, making it quite easy for him to make new acquaintances and friends. Also smooth with his words, he often finds it easy to approach she-cats that catch his attention, though being a restless spirit, he tends to avoid long-lasting relationships.
Cyri – iCheshy
Cyri is quite peculiar in her own special way. While on the surface, she harbors a common look among most medium-haired tabbies, stature being of a typical feline, something else bubbles below the surface. Her keen sense of smell as well as wit characterizes this usually solemn creature. Oh no, but please don't be fooled. This little she cat's chalk full of sour right down to the bitter core of her existence. If you find yourself straying away to the dark side, you're sure to see her as well. It didn't start this way. Not many do. It all started the day her mother was killed. Now I'm sure you’re saying that you've heard this before, but don't be so sure. It was early, just before sunrise, when a jagged yowl consumed the ears of a small group of rogues who harbored themselves just outside of the clan's territories. Just a few moons older than a kit's age, she was oblivious to the mayhem that would become a blood bath of slaughter. Cats, throats torn open by the savages who had remained unseen, hidden within the shadows as they played this homicide as a game. Cyri had remained where she could best not be seen, the shadows, watching from high above in a tree while her family and friends were slaughtered. Her smooth and bright grey-blue eyes stared in awe as they were attacked. When the raid was completed and the other cats had also vanished back to the shadows from where they came, the she-cat emerged. Quickly running to the side of her mother, whose blood stained fur lay matted and her lungs no longer pumped air, she cried. How could someone do this? This horrid thing. She glanced around, looking for her father during all of this commotion. Where was he? A sudden snap and Cyri's body froze. In front of her, where the shadows gave way to the rising sun's beams walked out a large tom, similarly colored. It was her father. But... there was blood. Not his. Dried crimson blood caked his mouth as well as his claws which had remained unsheathed. He gave her a smirk, circling around her once before flicking his tail in a mocking manner. "You have to make sacrifices in order to be top cat, Cyri. Such a pity your mother had to be one of the victims." That's all he said before leaping back into the shadows, the seeming 'glow' of his also grey-blue eyes shown for a moment, then disappearing. From that day on, she committed to find someone, some group to train her and teach her the ways to kill her father. For now, she allows herself to harbor inside the camp and wait for the day she can finally take back what is hers. A life for a life, won't you say?
Devitree - kittzkat
Two eyes peer through the haze of life, a green so intriguing, that once you look into them, some tend to loose themselves. A green that is both olive and neon, flowing together into one, magnificent pool, the focal point of her face. It fades into a dual-shade of fur that marks the cat as tortishell. A black base coat, a dark ebony that falls gracefully over her toned shoulders, is matched by the color of flame, a dark ginger. Average in complex, other than those eyes. She's not the cat to hold much emotion in her facial expression, not often at least. She'll occasionally offer a small flick of a smile, staying on her face no longer than a microsecond, unless she's around her closest of friends. She tends to show more movement in her ears, flicking often, as well as her tail, which is always at a constant twitch. Devitree has a rather rare personality. She's subdued most of the time, retaining a calm and collected, if not bored aura to her. She's a workaholic, requiring to always be doing something, or she doesn't feel she's done enough. Although she is normally on the outside of the social rings, when she speaks, Devitree always knows just what to say. Her voice is strong, clear, and normally very percise and proper. She doesn't often use contractions, prefering longer, full, broken apart words. This she-cat has a very diverse history, as well. She was born to a rogue by the name of Esparell, in a litter of four, Kistari, Brosteen, Amarina and, of course, herself. Esparell didn't tell them of their father at first, letting them grow up in the age of a rogue for a few moons, their first. By her fourth moon of age, Devitree was curious. She had never heard of her father. "Mama," she asked with a tilt of her black and golden head, "where's Dad?" The question brought guilt into her mother's eyes, and, finally, she broke down and told her litter about the father that they didn't know they had. Devitree soon learned that her father was a Lithium tom, Zenith. With that detail, the little cat decided she wanted to meet her father, didn't want to be a rogue for much longer. She set off, on her own, to Lithium. She left without telling her mother, and never spoke to her again. By the time she was adept age, she had finally made it to Lithium. Zenith had already past away, although she didn't care, she still wanted to be a cat of the group.And she did, becoming a loyal member. A member who quickly became respected. Once Critical became leader, Devitree was appointed captain. She wanted to become more like the leader, to live up to the expectations of her leadership, so she changed. Devitree allowed herself to grow harsher, and that is how she retains her personality today. She was the Exalted of Lithium when her group disbanded, much to her disgust. She was forced out of her home, and that made her even angrier. Made her bloodthursty for revenge.
Dune -- Tempestfrost
What a terrible fate you've met with, coming upon this venomous tom, going by the name of Dune. As you walk towards him, you notice his eyes. The once upbeat eyes of the son of Katie and Origin remain forever shrouded in darkness, hatred, and lust for justice. They're a deep, dark brown, almost appearing completely black. Ironic, it is. When he was but a kit, his eyes were much lighter in color. You walk closer, he stands completely, utterly still. You observe his pelt. Black as the night, with dusty brown splotches all over his pelt. How strange, you think, its a rare occurrence for a tom-cat to have a calico pelt. Suddenly, he turns his head, quickly, and glares at you, the light of the day shining off his eyes. You suddenly get a taste of his personality. You don't know how, but you now know everything there is to know about... Dune. Born in Primal Instinct, grew up in Venomclan, son of the great Origin, and beautiful Katie. He had four original siblings, who were known as Kazii, Kovu, Kelvin, and Katniss. He grew up without his father, for Origin had gone missing when he was only a kit. But nevertheless, Katie raised him perfectly fine. His whole life was basically a battlefield. Always in a fight with his stepfather, Asher, or always in a fight with a sibling, or always witnessing a sibling, or a friend die. Its a rather depressing story, you think. But still, you search through his mind, through his deepest memories. Memories of Tayler, Dune's best friend [and only friend] when he was just a kit. Tayler was the age of a warrior at the time Dune was a kit, but nevertheless, Tayler was Dune's favorite go-to friend. You sigh. It seems as if Tayler is gone now. That's unfortunate, you think. When Dune had reached apprentice-hood, Venomclan was on the verge of collapse, and therefore became Toxicity. Though Dune rebelled against Toxicity, and followed his mother to Primal Instinct. In Primal Instinct, he had an affair with a she-cat named Calypso, however the relationship didn't work out, leaving Dune romantically scarred. A rank later, into warrior-hood, and a few breakdowns later, Dune faked his own death, and left the group, to sort out his life. Moons later, he returned to Primal Instinct, leading up to the present time. You search through his memories, but that seems to be it. Sure, there are tons of in-between the line side-stories, but those can be explained another day. You decide to ponder on his personality now. The personality trait that seems to stick out to you the most, is his flirty trait. Always going after the she-cats, stunning them with his raging mysteriousness, and handsome appearance. Dune is a rather sarcastic tom, and doesn't take things too literally. He likes to keep it cool, and tends to persuade others that he is, obviously, the coolest cat in Primal Instinct. He can be stubborn, though I must advice you his stubbornness dwindles into the path of being downright annoying. Everything he says is meant 'ironically', so I wouldn't advise you to take him serious too often. But don't get him wrong, when he's serious about something, you'll know it. Dune is a rather dark tom, and often has thoughts of war, bloodshed, and a fight to pick with someone. He's rather judgmental, though you just have to correct him on his mistakes, then he'll surely shut up. There's many more levels to his personality, but you'd better find them out for yourself. But beware, Dune is like a grenade. He can be safe and secure, until you pull his pin, and then, I suggest you run.
Dysis -- jubilee.
The ex-Nemesis Dysis is just as deadly and wise as she was during her reign. Once upon a time, a few mistakes ago, Dysis was a friendly, open she~cat. Now, I know it seems nearly impossible with who she is now. Her history caused her change to her polar opposite. She was born as a loner, and lived with her older brother. Dysis was a little bundle of energy, adorable and happy and lovable. But her happy life didn’t last. Her brother was killed by a rogue group, and little Dy, only 5 moons, was taken in by the leader, who recognized her beauty and potential instantly. He raised her, teaching her to be merciless and deadly. Dysis became an excellent fighter, and a cat who showed no mercy. She missed her brother greatly, but as she was taught to show little to no emotion, she never mentioned him. As custom in her group, she was paired up with a tom who became her mate when she was one year old. She had three litters with him, twelve kittens in all, but eleven of them turned out stillborn. Dysis was torn up inside, but she was fiercely protective of her surviving kit, named Hawk. She nurtured him, and showered him with love. Her mate found this disgusting, and took him away from her to train him to be deadly and emotionless. When Dysis took him back and refused to give him up again, Hawk was killed. For the first time since her training, she showed emotion. Dysis bawled her heart out, and was attacked by some of her group-mates. However, her superior fighting skills, agony, and fury came into play and she slaughtered everyone. Then, heart heavy, she buried Hawk and set off through the land. She was the perfect rogue group mate after that night. She showed no emotion, showed no fear or mercy. She slaughtered without question, and was well-known for a few miles around. Shortly before she turned 2 years of age, she found Primal Instinct. She quickly rose through power, and became a Proxy. Later the group was disbanded, but when it returned, she was reappointed t