Post by hymn on Jul 13, 2016 1:31:55 GMT
☀ d a r k s t o r m ☀
name: dark-kit - darkpaw - darkstorm
gender: female
age: thirty-eight moons
clan: thunderclan
position: warrior
short description: massive, long-haired, dusky gray she-cat with bright green eyes.
appearance:
One's appearance makes the first impression, therefore, the first impression Darkstorm gives is that she is a brute. With broad musculature and an intimidating height, she looks like she could swallow kits whole and level a field of wildflowers in one step. She has the build of a warrior, for every pawstep reveals a ripple in her massive shoulders and a lumber that begets the gait of a fierce badger. Darkstar's back is littered with the scars of battles passed, they crisscross through her thick fur, creating valleys of puce-colored flesh. Her sheer size her most formidable weapon, using her weight to overcome smaller, meeker opponents has always been her go-to strategy; following up with her forceful bite, Darkstorm clamps her jaws down with enough force to snap a daintier cat's forearm mercilessly. Darkstorm's paws are just as large as one would expect, her prints leave a dent into the ground that a kit could curl up in as a nest.
Her mother named him Dark-kit for her obviously darker gray pelt. Resembling a storm cloud, Darkstar's fur is void of tabby markings or white spots. She can easily melt into the shadows cast by the trees of her territory, and she camouflages best at night. She prefers nighttime hunts personally for this very reason. Fighting in the dark is also her specialty, for she darts through the darkness like a bat out of Hell, and her opponents have difficulty landing a blow if they rely on their sight alone.
The most notable feature of Darkstar's body, aside from her size, is her gaze. Her eyes are a shade of green that resembles polished jade in the sunlight. Flecks of pale green create a kaleidoscopic tourbillion of verdant hues in her stare, and in their depths are the secrets of her Clan and all those she cares for.
personality:
Have you seen a storm? There are several phases to the mighty storm; they are like layers of a cake, but not as sweet. Storms are raw forces of nature with the potential to be deadly, but in their power there is beauty, for they bring needed change to the land in their violence. Darkstorm is similar to storms in terms of behavior.
There is calm before the storm, all must know this. Darkstorm carries herself with silent dignity when she is not on the rampage or in the midst of her tumultuous emotions. Those that see her know she has the potential to be dangerous. Her calculating eyes betray her plotting, they foretell the storms to come, and there is no fear or anxiety. Instead, her face holds a challenge; she baits the obstacles to come her way; she is ready. If anything or anyone stands in her path, Darkstorm's arrogance leads to her believe she can overcome them. There is no one stronger than she, and she dares all that oppose her to come toe-to-toe with her in battle. But, not every waking moment of Darkstorm's life is drenched in the blood of battle. Her quiet confidence is accompanied with the rumbles of laughter. Darkstorm's laugh is deep and hearty, quaking in her chest like the bellow of distant thunder. Her sense of humor is offensive to more sensitive or conservative cats, for they are usually the butt of her jokes. Darkstorm finds laughter in the most awkward of situations, and she does her best to find humor during dark times; however, she is rotten when it comes to the timing of her comedic antics, and the phrase "too soon" is fitting to many situations.
When the storm hits, it is a monsoon. Darkstorm does not have a hard reign on her emotions. They are like a clothespin binding cloth to a thin string; once disturbed, the clothespin snaps and the fabric goes flying. She is at the mercy of her heart, which thunders with passion. Darkstorm's behavior towards her environment is heavily reactive; explosive situations are the catalyst of her temper. She thrives in the heat of battle or amidst debate. Even when her voice is unneeded, she parades her opinion with trombones and confetti. Darkstorm is not afraid to make her beliefs known. However, it is her anger that is both her trump card and her Achilles heel. When Darkstorm is enraged, she becomes a turbulent tempest of zeal and violence. She is charismatic on the war front, but she struggles to keep a level-head. Typically, she relies on her more passive Clanmates to qualm the war drums hammering in her chest. In battle, she sees red, and if she is not accompanied by a buffer, she borders on life-threatening in her technique. Darkstorm does not fear risking it all, she is willing to lay her life down for a cause she believes in, and unless an intermediary knocks some sense into her... The storm will peter out into oblivion.
Storms have aftermath as well. After the damage has been done, and there is nothing left but ruin, Darkstorm is left to brood on her mistakes. Though she has difficulty expressing her negative emotions, she is not immune to them. Darkstorm wallows in regret of her actions in pained silence. Her gaze becomes distant, and her demeanor strangely quiet. The ups and downs of her temperament confuse many, but the confuse her the most. There are times she feels on top of the world, only for her to feel face-down in dirt. Darkstorm rarely intentionally hurts anyone with her brash tongue, but when she does, one should know it keeps her up at night. She tosses and turns with the weight of her remorse tangled in her fur like burs. In fact, her self-condemnation leads her to avoid sleep entirely; she would rather pace the camp than let her mistakes haunt her dreams. Living a life plagued by violent impulses and harsh words results in her insomnia and occasional dissociation. However, her lows are never perpetual, it does not take long for Darkstorm to be back on her paws with fire in her eyes and a spring in her step.
history:
The ambrosial scent of the nursery is a source of comfort for Darkstorm. She is nostalgic of the times when she would spend her days with her mother, Morningcloud, and her littermates. Morningcloud was a mild mother, but she struggled to handle her four kits. The large litter consisted of Darkstorm and her siblings, Shadekit, Cloudkit, and Black-kit. All of her siblings are tomcats, which left Darkstorm feeling like the odd one out. They were rougher, larger, and louder than Darkstorm, and they drove Morningcloud to become a bundle of nerves. With three wild tomcats and a spunky she-cat, Morningcloud was at wits end by the time they became apprentices. By then, ThunderClan knew damn well that Morningcloud's litter was nothing but hell-raisers with quipped tongues and heavy claws.
If one were to ask Darkstorm, she would unashamedly admit they caused Morningcloud a world of headache. When her brothers became apprentices, they were all assigned stern, experienced mentors. It was the equivalent of being sent to military school, and Darkstorm did not envy them. She, however, was lucky enough to be assigned to a soulful, whimsical mentor known as Snowstream. He was a fetching tomcat known for his philosophical monologues and pacifistic beliefs. Darkstorm, however, longed for teachings that were starkly opposite. She had a taste for battle at a young age and an itch for action in her paws. Snowstream ignored the fire in her eyes. Instead, he would take Darkstorm for long patrols around the territory, talking about the beauty of life and the precious duty to preserve it. Needless to say, Darkstorm was not amused.
Once Darkstorm spilled blood during her first border skirmish, her Clanmates knew where her true talents lie. She was a fighter like her brothers. Her family was a crew of hellions that knew how to win battles. Unfortunately, Snowstream was weary of his apprentice's skill. He feared the hunger in her eyes when she was faced with an opponent. Consequently, he prolonged her training. While her brothers' earned their warrior names, Darkstorm was stuck with Snowstream's scorn. Deep bitterness sprouted inside of her, growing into brambles with toxic thorns that pierced every vein to fill her blood with resentment. A delayed warrior ceremony punctured her pride, deflating it to a shriveled shell of what it once was. Her aggravation with Snowstream blossom when her brother, Shadefang, died in battle. He met his demise like their father, Stormheart, did before their birth. His corpse was drenched the blood of his enemies and himself, and his jugular was torn to shreds. Darkstorm witnessed the gore her brother was reduced to, not in battle, but when he was dragged back to camp. To this day, she blames Snowstream for Shadefang's death, for she believes in hindsight that if she were there in battle, she would have saved him. However, Snowstream barred her from participating in the battle at Sunningrocks, fearing for his apprentice's vigor in skirmishes.
Desperate to become a warrior, Darkstorm worked double-time. She wanted to protect her Clan and her family. Once ThunderClan's leader saw the length of her toil, Darkstorm finally received her warrior name. Befitting of a cat with her personality and harkening her late father, she went from Darkpaw to Darkstorm. Though she has a hair-trigger, Darkstorm serves her Clan with valor; she has guts, and she is willing to spill them for the sake of all of ThunderClan. However, some are like Snowstream and fear her temperament and power.
Following her ceremony, she joined her brothers Cloudface and Blackclaw. They became a dynamic trio, Hell-bent on striking a nerve at Gatherings and raising claws on the border. Though Cloudface settled down after starting a family, Blackclaw and Darkstorm are just as wild as ever. Darkstorm visits her sister-in-law in the nursery, but is confused by the lack of maternal desire the she-cats there share. There was a lot that confused her, particularly her feelings towards other she-cats. There was an attraction there that was absent around the tomcats. It was unconventional and disturbing to her at first, but she slowly came to terms with it thanks to Blackclaw's encouragement. Together, they enjoyed flirting with the she-cats and making asses of themselves. Neither of them were lucky enough to land a mate, however.
While Darkstorm continues to serve ThunderClan, she fears the day her heart no longer beats to the war drums. So, she lives every day to the fullest, aspiring to die with honor like her father and her brother. Though Cloudface and Morningcloud try to quell her ferocity, Darkstorm will probably never cease her life-threatening maneuvers unless she finds someone worth living for.
gender: female
age: thirty-eight moons
clan: thunderclan
position: warrior
short description: massive, long-haired, dusky gray she-cat with bright green eyes.
appearance:
One's appearance makes the first impression, therefore, the first impression Darkstorm gives is that she is a brute. With broad musculature and an intimidating height, she looks like she could swallow kits whole and level a field of wildflowers in one step. She has the build of a warrior, for every pawstep reveals a ripple in her massive shoulders and a lumber that begets the gait of a fierce badger. Darkstar's back is littered with the scars of battles passed, they crisscross through her thick fur, creating valleys of puce-colored flesh. Her sheer size her most formidable weapon, using her weight to overcome smaller, meeker opponents has always been her go-to strategy; following up with her forceful bite, Darkstorm clamps her jaws down with enough force to snap a daintier cat's forearm mercilessly. Darkstorm's paws are just as large as one would expect, her prints leave a dent into the ground that a kit could curl up in as a nest.
Her mother named him Dark-kit for her obviously darker gray pelt. Resembling a storm cloud, Darkstar's fur is void of tabby markings or white spots. She can easily melt into the shadows cast by the trees of her territory, and she camouflages best at night. She prefers nighttime hunts personally for this very reason. Fighting in the dark is also her specialty, for she darts through the darkness like a bat out of Hell, and her opponents have difficulty landing a blow if they rely on their sight alone.
The most notable feature of Darkstar's body, aside from her size, is her gaze. Her eyes are a shade of green that resembles polished jade in the sunlight. Flecks of pale green create a kaleidoscopic tourbillion of verdant hues in her stare, and in their depths are the secrets of her Clan and all those she cares for.
personality:
Have you seen a storm? There are several phases to the mighty storm; they are like layers of a cake, but not as sweet. Storms are raw forces of nature with the potential to be deadly, but in their power there is beauty, for they bring needed change to the land in their violence. Darkstorm is similar to storms in terms of behavior.
There is calm before the storm, all must know this. Darkstorm carries herself with silent dignity when she is not on the rampage or in the midst of her tumultuous emotions. Those that see her know she has the potential to be dangerous. Her calculating eyes betray her plotting, they foretell the storms to come, and there is no fear or anxiety. Instead, her face holds a challenge; she baits the obstacles to come her way; she is ready. If anything or anyone stands in her path, Darkstorm's arrogance leads to her believe she can overcome them. There is no one stronger than she, and she dares all that oppose her to come toe-to-toe with her in battle. But, not every waking moment of Darkstorm's life is drenched in the blood of battle. Her quiet confidence is accompanied with the rumbles of laughter. Darkstorm's laugh is deep and hearty, quaking in her chest like the bellow of distant thunder. Her sense of humor is offensive to more sensitive or conservative cats, for they are usually the butt of her jokes. Darkstorm finds laughter in the most awkward of situations, and she does her best to find humor during dark times; however, she is rotten when it comes to the timing of her comedic antics, and the phrase "too soon" is fitting to many situations.
When the storm hits, it is a monsoon. Darkstorm does not have a hard reign on her emotions. They are like a clothespin binding cloth to a thin string; once disturbed, the clothespin snaps and the fabric goes flying. She is at the mercy of her heart, which thunders with passion. Darkstorm's behavior towards her environment is heavily reactive; explosive situations are the catalyst of her temper. She thrives in the heat of battle or amidst debate. Even when her voice is unneeded, she parades her opinion with trombones and confetti. Darkstorm is not afraid to make her beliefs known. However, it is her anger that is both her trump card and her Achilles heel. When Darkstorm is enraged, she becomes a turbulent tempest of zeal and violence. She is charismatic on the war front, but she struggles to keep a level-head. Typically, she relies on her more passive Clanmates to qualm the war drums hammering in her chest. In battle, she sees red, and if she is not accompanied by a buffer, she borders on life-threatening in her technique. Darkstorm does not fear risking it all, she is willing to lay her life down for a cause she believes in, and unless an intermediary knocks some sense into her... The storm will peter out into oblivion.
Storms have aftermath as well. After the damage has been done, and there is nothing left but ruin, Darkstorm is left to brood on her mistakes. Though she has difficulty expressing her negative emotions, she is not immune to them. Darkstorm wallows in regret of her actions in pained silence. Her gaze becomes distant, and her demeanor strangely quiet. The ups and downs of her temperament confuse many, but the confuse her the most. There are times she feels on top of the world, only for her to feel face-down in dirt. Darkstorm rarely intentionally hurts anyone with her brash tongue, but when she does, one should know it keeps her up at night. She tosses and turns with the weight of her remorse tangled in her fur like burs. In fact, her self-condemnation leads her to avoid sleep entirely; she would rather pace the camp than let her mistakes haunt her dreams. Living a life plagued by violent impulses and harsh words results in her insomnia and occasional dissociation. However, her lows are never perpetual, it does not take long for Darkstorm to be back on her paws with fire in her eyes and a spring in her step.
history:
The ambrosial scent of the nursery is a source of comfort for Darkstorm. She is nostalgic of the times when she would spend her days with her mother, Morningcloud, and her littermates. Morningcloud was a mild mother, but she struggled to handle her four kits. The large litter consisted of Darkstorm and her siblings, Shadekit, Cloudkit, and Black-kit. All of her siblings are tomcats, which left Darkstorm feeling like the odd one out. They were rougher, larger, and louder than Darkstorm, and they drove Morningcloud to become a bundle of nerves. With three wild tomcats and a spunky she-cat, Morningcloud was at wits end by the time they became apprentices. By then, ThunderClan knew damn well that Morningcloud's litter was nothing but hell-raisers with quipped tongues and heavy claws.
If one were to ask Darkstorm, she would unashamedly admit they caused Morningcloud a world of headache. When her brothers became apprentices, they were all assigned stern, experienced mentors. It was the equivalent of being sent to military school, and Darkstorm did not envy them. She, however, was lucky enough to be assigned to a soulful, whimsical mentor known as Snowstream. He was a fetching tomcat known for his philosophical monologues and pacifistic beliefs. Darkstorm, however, longed for teachings that were starkly opposite. She had a taste for battle at a young age and an itch for action in her paws. Snowstream ignored the fire in her eyes. Instead, he would take Darkstorm for long patrols around the territory, talking about the beauty of life and the precious duty to preserve it. Needless to say, Darkstorm was not amused.
Once Darkstorm spilled blood during her first border skirmish, her Clanmates knew where her true talents lie. She was a fighter like her brothers. Her family was a crew of hellions that knew how to win battles. Unfortunately, Snowstream was weary of his apprentice's skill. He feared the hunger in her eyes when she was faced with an opponent. Consequently, he prolonged her training. While her brothers' earned their warrior names, Darkstorm was stuck with Snowstream's scorn. Deep bitterness sprouted inside of her, growing into brambles with toxic thorns that pierced every vein to fill her blood with resentment. A delayed warrior ceremony punctured her pride, deflating it to a shriveled shell of what it once was. Her aggravation with Snowstream blossom when her brother, Shadefang, died in battle. He met his demise like their father, Stormheart, did before their birth. His corpse was drenched the blood of his enemies and himself, and his jugular was torn to shreds. Darkstorm witnessed the gore her brother was reduced to, not in battle, but when he was dragged back to camp. To this day, she blames Snowstream for Shadefang's death, for she believes in hindsight that if she were there in battle, she would have saved him. However, Snowstream barred her from participating in the battle at Sunningrocks, fearing for his apprentice's vigor in skirmishes.
Desperate to become a warrior, Darkstorm worked double-time. She wanted to protect her Clan and her family. Once ThunderClan's leader saw the length of her toil, Darkstorm finally received her warrior name. Befitting of a cat with her personality and harkening her late father, she went from Darkpaw to Darkstorm. Though she has a hair-trigger, Darkstorm serves her Clan with valor; she has guts, and she is willing to spill them for the sake of all of ThunderClan. However, some are like Snowstream and fear her temperament and power.
Following her ceremony, she joined her brothers Cloudface and Blackclaw. They became a dynamic trio, Hell-bent on striking a nerve at Gatherings and raising claws on the border. Though Cloudface settled down after starting a family, Blackclaw and Darkstorm are just as wild as ever. Darkstorm visits her sister-in-law in the nursery, but is confused by the lack of maternal desire the she-cats there share. There was a lot that confused her, particularly her feelings towards other she-cats. There was an attraction there that was absent around the tomcats. It was unconventional and disturbing to her at first, but she slowly came to terms with it thanks to Blackclaw's encouragement. Together, they enjoyed flirting with the she-cats and making asses of themselves. Neither of them were lucky enough to land a mate, however.
While Darkstorm continues to serve ThunderClan, she fears the day her heart no longer beats to the war drums. So, she lives every day to the fullest, aspiring to die with honor like her father and her brother. Though Cloudface and Morningcloud try to quell her ferocity, Darkstorm will probably never cease her life-threatening maneuvers unless she finds someone worth living for.
Kuwaki, Edda Rose
