Palescreech - LightningClan Senior Warrior
Nov 13, 2017 0:40:14 GMT -5
Fawn and BlooRey DVD like this
Post by Insidious on Nov 13, 2017 0:40:14 GMT -5
Name: Palekit < Palepaw < Palescreech
Age: 50 moons.
Gender: She-cat.
Clan: LightningClan.
Rank: Senior warrior.
Picture:
Description:
Description Summary: A slender, pale brown she-cat with ice blue eyes.
Personality:
History:
RP Example: N/A.
Other: Just two characters. -sweats-
Were You Referred? Been a member for a long while.
Age: 50 moons.
Gender: She-cat.
Clan: LightningClan.
Rank: Senior warrior.
Picture:
Description:
Her thin, form-fitting fur can sometimes give off the impression of skinniness, lankiness, and even unhealthily protruding bones, but her Clanmates know—and anyone who has experienced sparring with her undoubtedly know—that she’s lean, as quick as the lightning strike for which their Clan is named, and even muscular in her own right. Relatively small, Palescreech could easily sink into the swarm of her Clanmates and go unseen, but being whitish gold in colour, she’s painfully difficult to miss. Her eyes, too, are a brilliantly bright ice blue, acting as a beautiful contrast against her pale, feminine facial features. She seems almost angelic, carrying herself with immense grace and great self-awareness, but with time, age, and perhaps a little less than ideal company for a properly brought up lady, her insides continue to slowly darken.
Description Summary: A slender, pale brown she-cat with ice blue eyes.
Personality:
In Palescreech’s youth she was a reckless, fun-loving princess with no sense of boundaries. She thought the world of her appearance, and to this day she treasures it, although a combination of age and settling down with her beloved prince have since soothed the obnoxiously reoccurring flare of her ego. Truthfully, a lot of her personality has been sculpted by the tom she feels privileged to call hers—Nightstep. His influence has caused innocence to give way to manipulation, his loyalty has awoken a fire in her heart that no amount of time spent in his company can tame, and his beastliness (for which Whiteshade is to thank) has sharpened a thrill for danger and violence that puts the blade of a knife to shame. There is no crime great enough for Nightstep to commit that could force Palescreech to turn her back on him; he is her handsome weapon, and she his beautiful serpent.
With that said, Palescreech isn’t inherently bad. She is gentle, graceful, polite, and overall an optimum lady in every sense of the word. Her tongue might as well have been dipped in silver because she has always known how to cut an elegant path through a conversation. Her companionship therefore becomes a rather easy thing to desire, but Palescreech ought to come with flashing lights that warn of oncoming danger. Her priority will always be her mate and the family they’re building together. If for whatever reason a friend suddenly looks more appetizing as a pawn, she will stab them in the back without hesitation. At the end of the day, all she truly needs is Nightstep to feel at peace.
That peace, however, can be disturbed with the slightest wayward glance. Palescreech is grossly possessive, and one misconstrued look in the wrong direction at the wrong time can spell disaster. She is capable of being absurdly petty, and she will take extreme measures without apology when jealousy rears its ugly head.
With that said, Palescreech isn’t inherently bad. She is gentle, graceful, polite, and overall an optimum lady in every sense of the word. Her tongue might as well have been dipped in silver because she has always known how to cut an elegant path through a conversation. Her companionship therefore becomes a rather easy thing to desire, but Palescreech ought to come with flashing lights that warn of oncoming danger. Her priority will always be her mate and the family they’re building together. If for whatever reason a friend suddenly looks more appetizing as a pawn, she will stab them in the back without hesitation. At the end of the day, all she truly needs is Nightstep to feel at peace.
That peace, however, can be disturbed with the slightest wayward glance. Palescreech is grossly possessive, and one misconstrued look in the wrong direction at the wrong time can spell disaster. She is capable of being absurdly petty, and she will take extreme measures without apology when jealousy rears its ugly head.
History:
Falconwing and Tinyleaf's youth was far behind them when they decided to try for another litter. Their son, Flamingpaw, was nearing his warrior ceremony far too quick from them to grasp, and Tinyleaf wanted the chance to raise kits one more time before she retired. Shortly after the decision was made, Tinyleaf received the good news about her pregnancy from the medicine cat. Because of her age, she had to visit the medicine cat regularly to make sure everything was going smoothly, but Tinyleaf wasn't worried. She knew the kits that she carried would be a blessing for LightningClan, and she and Falconwing both couldn't wait to meet them.
It turned out that kits was a bit of an overstatement. Again, Tinyleaf delivered a single kit, but this time it was a beloved girl. The delivery wasn't as easy as the first one had been, and unfortunately Tinyleaf lost too much blood. She spent the evening fawning over her newborn daughter, and she shared tongues with her son, now a warrior named Flamingtalon, one last time before she fell asleep in the crook of her mate's body. The last thing that she ever told him was their daughter's name.
Palekit.
Despite growing up without her birth mother, she was full of life and brought a unique glow to the warm atmosphere of the nursery. All of the queens thought highly of her, and they raised her communally as her brother returned to his warrior duties and her father, due to a combination of upset and age, finally retired to the elders' den. She looked a lot like her mother, and although Palekit didn't understand it at the time, it was difficult for her father to come to terms with. Nonetheless, he loved her unconditionally. He knew Tinyleaf would've wanted them to be close, and for him to make sure that she never blamed herself for her mother's passing. Often, he visited before bedtime and told her stories about her mother. Growing up, her father was her best friend, and she felt extremely lucky to have him, the queens, their kits, her brother...
And LightningClan. Ever since she could remember, she held her Clan close to her heart with the utmost affections. It was something she'd one day fight for, and a family she'd one day hunt and provide for. A purpose, above all else, appealed to Palekit. She longed for an opportunity to show the world what she could do. Those daydreams turned into fantasies, and those fantasies inevitably turned into lessons as an apprentice. Her mentor, Burningleaf, was everything she hoped he'd be. She wanted to be close with her mentor, and she was lucky to be able to establish that bond without issue.
In hindsight, Palepaw almost always seemed to be inherently lucky. She was too young to fully grasp the grief everyone else felt when her mother, kind and well-liked, died, and she got to live with and know her through her father's wonderful stories. All of the queens took to her like she was one of their own, and they always made sure that she felt welcome in their nests. She longed for the storybook bond between mentor and apprentice, and it was handed to her on a silver platter. Palepaw, as beautiful as her mother, and as likable as her, too, was beginning to feel entitled. Since it wasn't particularly obvious, either, it was fed until it snowballed into recklessness.
Palepaw had a penchant for thrills and danger. Life thus far had been easy, but not overly exciting, and she was eager for that to change. She developed an unhealthy habit for leaving camp to pursue foxes, of all things, and each time she survived it built up her self-formed ideology of invincibility. She was spiraling out of control, but one meaningful bite from a fox revealed just how mortal she truly was. A couple of days and nights were spent under the watchful, if not critical eye of their medicine cat, and she had to work hard to regain her mentor's confidence in her. The appreciation for thrills and danger wasn't extinguished, but she finally understood that she couldn't be so careless. Besides, she had yet to experience the finer things in life.
Palepaw never knew love, let alone a simple crush, and she was beginning to feel like she never would a second too late. Her beauty and charisma were no longer figments of her imagination, and she knew how to navigate them well. To this day she doesn't know what in particular drew her to Nightstep like a magnet, but the sound of his voice made her ears burn and the sight of him ignited a fire beneath her paws. She was hooked. More than that, she was eager to impress
With Whiteshade of all cats as his mentor, she went into the challenge expecting difficulty. Using her recklessness wisely this time around (or so she thought) she invited him along on one of her late night scandals, confident that she'd be able to steal his heart in exchange for her own after he saw this shade of her personality. Luck, it seemed, was no longer looking out for her best interest, and it materialized a living, breathing demon in the form of TreeClan's Grayowl and his current project, a fox-eyed apprentice named Onyxpaw.
Oblivious to LightningClan's own demons, the one she longed to have at her side especially, she couldn't imagine someone worse than him. Grayowl forced his apprentice to attack them even though she was clearly younger and less experienced. He could've intervened at any time and really turned the tables on her and Nightpaw, but he never did. Instead, it was Nightpaw himself that won the fight and got the two of them out of there alive. At the time, she mistook the hunger in his eyes for something heroic.
Their next outing turned out much the same, although the black-pelted loner with a curiosity that would undoubtedly get her killed was far less dangerous than Grayowl had been. She didn't attack them, but intruding on LightningClan territory was an attack in and of itself. Palepaw demanded that she leave at once, but Nightpaw intended to show her what would happen if she stayed a little... differently. She never expected him to be so violent, so willing to kill, and for a second it frightened her. However, it was the same instant the she realized how deep her affections for him ran. Even though the look in his eye was unmistakably one to fear, she stepped between him and the loner anyways. She asked him to stop, and he did.
It wasn't a simple situation by any means, but it was, quite frankly, as simple as that in the heat of the moment.
For a while, Palepaw didn't know what to make of him. On one hand, she desired him so intensely that it drove her mad, but on the other hand, he tried to kill someone while she was standing right there. Why, then, did her heart still flutter when she heard his name? It made her question her sanity, her morals, and even her type. She always knew that she had an interest in being reckless and living on the edge, but she never imagined it'd translate into sharing her life with someone genuinely violent. She wasn't sharing her life with him, she supposed, but she wanted to be.
Their warrior ceremonies came and went: She was named Palescreech, and he Nightstep. Her new responsibilities as a warrior came with a flush of pride, and after that one of confidence. Young as she was, she knew what she wanted. Before she could second-guess herself, she asked Nightstep to take a walk with her. What happened next set the course for the remainder of her life.
From young to senior warriors, the two were an inseparable force to be reckoned with. They led fairly normal lives: hunting for the Clan, defending it in battle when needed, training apprentices, etc.. but that was just what everyone saw. When they fell asleep at night in their shared nest, Palescreech's nose buried into the crook of Nightstep's neck, she knew that she was in love with someone who had the capacity to be a monster.
However, she wasn't the innocent she-cat who used to plea for him to contain it, either.
Quite on the contrary, having him made her feel powerful. The realization that she could control him was slow to take shape in her mind, but once she was aware of it, love and obsession melded into one. He can be the thing of nightmares, but he's her nightmare to unleash should she wish for it. It's a ferocious power to possess, but Palescreech wouldn't abuse it. Their relationship is as twisted as it is real. They're so interwoven into one another that they might as well be the same. In other words, one is rarely without the other for long.
The first time they tried for kits, there was a horrific forest fire, and Palescreech lost them before they were born. She was devastated, but nonetheless determined. She wanted nothing more than to carry Nightstep's lineage on, and to guide his kits through life as their mother. It wasn't without a lot of convincing, and reassurance that the loss of her first litter didn't weigh her down too much to bear it should it happen again, but the two at long last tried once more. This time, with the medicine cat's blessing of health, Palescreech warmly prepared to move into the nursery.
It turned out that kits was a bit of an overstatement. Again, Tinyleaf delivered a single kit, but this time it was a beloved girl. The delivery wasn't as easy as the first one had been, and unfortunately Tinyleaf lost too much blood. She spent the evening fawning over her newborn daughter, and she shared tongues with her son, now a warrior named Flamingtalon, one last time before she fell asleep in the crook of her mate's body. The last thing that she ever told him was their daughter's name.
Palekit.
Despite growing up without her birth mother, she was full of life and brought a unique glow to the warm atmosphere of the nursery. All of the queens thought highly of her, and they raised her communally as her brother returned to his warrior duties and her father, due to a combination of upset and age, finally retired to the elders' den. She looked a lot like her mother, and although Palekit didn't understand it at the time, it was difficult for her father to come to terms with. Nonetheless, he loved her unconditionally. He knew Tinyleaf would've wanted them to be close, and for him to make sure that she never blamed herself for her mother's passing. Often, he visited before bedtime and told her stories about her mother. Growing up, her father was her best friend, and she felt extremely lucky to have him, the queens, their kits, her brother...
And LightningClan. Ever since she could remember, she held her Clan close to her heart with the utmost affections. It was something she'd one day fight for, and a family she'd one day hunt and provide for. A purpose, above all else, appealed to Palekit. She longed for an opportunity to show the world what she could do. Those daydreams turned into fantasies, and those fantasies inevitably turned into lessons as an apprentice. Her mentor, Burningleaf, was everything she hoped he'd be. She wanted to be close with her mentor, and she was lucky to be able to establish that bond without issue.
In hindsight, Palepaw almost always seemed to be inherently lucky. She was too young to fully grasp the grief everyone else felt when her mother, kind and well-liked, died, and she got to live with and know her through her father's wonderful stories. All of the queens took to her like she was one of their own, and they always made sure that she felt welcome in their nests. She longed for the storybook bond between mentor and apprentice, and it was handed to her on a silver platter. Palepaw, as beautiful as her mother, and as likable as her, too, was beginning to feel entitled. Since it wasn't particularly obvious, either, it was fed until it snowballed into recklessness.
Palepaw had a penchant for thrills and danger. Life thus far had been easy, but not overly exciting, and she was eager for that to change. She developed an unhealthy habit for leaving camp to pursue foxes, of all things, and each time she survived it built up her self-formed ideology of invincibility. She was spiraling out of control, but one meaningful bite from a fox revealed just how mortal she truly was. A couple of days and nights were spent under the watchful, if not critical eye of their medicine cat, and she had to work hard to regain her mentor's confidence in her. The appreciation for thrills and danger wasn't extinguished, but she finally understood that she couldn't be so careless. Besides, she had yet to experience the finer things in life.
Palepaw never knew love, let alone a simple crush, and she was beginning to feel like she never would a second too late. Her beauty and charisma were no longer figments of her imagination, and she knew how to navigate them well. To this day she doesn't know what in particular drew her to Nightstep like a magnet, but the sound of his voice made her ears burn and the sight of him ignited a fire beneath her paws. She was hooked. More than that, she was eager to impress
With Whiteshade of all cats as his mentor, she went into the challenge expecting difficulty. Using her recklessness wisely this time around (or so she thought) she invited him along on one of her late night scandals, confident that she'd be able to steal his heart in exchange for her own after he saw this shade of her personality. Luck, it seemed, was no longer looking out for her best interest, and it materialized a living, breathing demon in the form of TreeClan's Grayowl and his current project, a fox-eyed apprentice named Onyxpaw.
Oblivious to LightningClan's own demons, the one she longed to have at her side especially, she couldn't imagine someone worse than him. Grayowl forced his apprentice to attack them even though she was clearly younger and less experienced. He could've intervened at any time and really turned the tables on her and Nightpaw, but he never did. Instead, it was Nightpaw himself that won the fight and got the two of them out of there alive. At the time, she mistook the hunger in his eyes for something heroic.
Their next outing turned out much the same, although the black-pelted loner with a curiosity that would undoubtedly get her killed was far less dangerous than Grayowl had been. She didn't attack them, but intruding on LightningClan territory was an attack in and of itself. Palepaw demanded that she leave at once, but Nightpaw intended to show her what would happen if she stayed a little... differently. She never expected him to be so violent, so willing to kill, and for a second it frightened her. However, it was the same instant the she realized how deep her affections for him ran. Even though the look in his eye was unmistakably one to fear, she stepped between him and the loner anyways. She asked him to stop, and he did.
It wasn't a simple situation by any means, but it was, quite frankly, as simple as that in the heat of the moment.
For a while, Palepaw didn't know what to make of him. On one hand, she desired him so intensely that it drove her mad, but on the other hand, he tried to kill someone while she was standing right there. Why, then, did her heart still flutter when she heard his name? It made her question her sanity, her morals, and even her type. She always knew that she had an interest in being reckless and living on the edge, but she never imagined it'd translate into sharing her life with someone genuinely violent. She wasn't sharing her life with him, she supposed, but she wanted to be.
Their warrior ceremonies came and went: She was named Palescreech, and he Nightstep. Her new responsibilities as a warrior came with a flush of pride, and after that one of confidence. Young as she was, she knew what she wanted. Before she could second-guess herself, she asked Nightstep to take a walk with her. What happened next set the course for the remainder of her life.
From young to senior warriors, the two were an inseparable force to be reckoned with. They led fairly normal lives: hunting for the Clan, defending it in battle when needed, training apprentices, etc.. but that was just what everyone saw. When they fell asleep at night in their shared nest, Palescreech's nose buried into the crook of Nightstep's neck, she knew that she was in love with someone who had the capacity to be a monster.
However, she wasn't the innocent she-cat who used to plea for him to contain it, either.
Quite on the contrary, having him made her feel powerful. The realization that she could control him was slow to take shape in her mind, but once she was aware of it, love and obsession melded into one. He can be the thing of nightmares, but he's her nightmare to unleash should she wish for it. It's a ferocious power to possess, but Palescreech wouldn't abuse it. Their relationship is as twisted as it is real. They're so interwoven into one another that they might as well be the same. In other words, one is rarely without the other for long.
The first time they tried for kits, there was a horrific forest fire, and Palescreech lost them before they were born. She was devastated, but nonetheless determined. She wanted nothing more than to carry Nightstep's lineage on, and to guide his kits through life as their mother. It wasn't without a lot of convincing, and reassurance that the loss of her first litter didn't weigh her down too much to bear it should it happen again, but the two at long last tried once more. This time, with the medicine cat's blessing of health, Palescreech warmly prepared to move into the nursery.
RP Example: N/A.
Other: Just two characters. -sweats-
Were You Referred? Been a member for a long while.