Post by coddle the infectionxxx on May 28, 2006 11:48:36 GMT -5
Name: Ghostpaw
Clan: Thunderclan
Position: Apprentice
Age: Unknown
Gender: Tom
Peltage: Ghostpaw is a lithe white tom, with large amber-yellow eyes. His fur is short and glossy, and well cared for. He is a smallish apprentice, and his eyes have a disconcerting manner of boring holes into anyone he dislikes. His ears are slightly to big, and he has a long tail. His lengthy tail allows him impeccable balance and grace in all his movements. He is one of those cats that was born with an aristocratic grace, making everything he does look elegant and practiced. His face is handsome, and he has a slender body form. He is strong, but his muscles do not bulge unattractively, rather they do not stick out much. His eyes never betray what he think, but when he is angered they darken. His voice is low, and rasping with an elegant accent that most around the forest do not have. His tongue is pink, as is his nose. His laws are long and bladedly sharp. His teeth are curved canines that can take another animals life in a flash. He has unnaturally quick reflexes, and he is abnormally fast. Though he is not buff in any manner, he is strong, and it is difficult to beat him in battle.
Picture:
Personality: Ghostpaw lives up to his name well. He has haunted dreams, and is skittish. On the outside he is calm, and polite with a wicked wit. His charismatic demeanor earns him many friends, and his apparently easy humor is appealing to most. His unusual battle, hunting, and tracking skills make him a model to many, but what appeals to most is his ability to sense feelings quite well. But he is edgy, and sees things others do not. His dreams are haunted by ghosts of the past. He hears things, and dreams of reality. He never tells anyone. But something that he guards with his life is his ability to speak to cats he thinks do not exist. They may be figments of his imagination, they may be the dead, but he speaks them and sees them everywhere. He is polite to others, and has a carefree attitude for life on his outward mask, and despite his unusual abilities, rarely applies himself.
IC: Look. Here cometh thy dog, Ghost Speaker.
Ghostpaw turned around in a dejected way. Sure enough, there stood a spirit. Pale as could be, this wraith was a tabby with the natural black eyes all phantoms he saw had. Only he recognized this one.
Disasterstrike. The white cat commented telepathically. I can’t say it’s good to see you.
Still in denial, Ghost Speaker? the tabby said ironically, a grin setting across her translucent mouth.
Call it what you like, I know you don’t exist. Ghostpaw furrowed his brow at the other cat. He knew that this was bad, that he was hallucinating. He glared at her coolly, amber eyes boring into her spitefully.
If I don’t exist, why are you making faces at me? The wraith taunted. She inspected her claws casually as if her taunt had no barbs.
Because since you don’t exist, I can’t very well tackle you. Now shoo, I hear some really cats coming. The white cat snapped telepathically. He turned away from her, hoping to discourage her from talking to him anymore.
Oh, trying to make me jealous with your living friends? Spat the wraith acidly.
Is it working? He snapped back, then using a power he had discovered only a moon earlier banished her.
Ghostpaw? Are you alright? It was that kitty pet he had asked for directions not a long tiem ago. His eyes slid back into focus, and he gave her a polite, dashing smile.
Of course. I’ll be on my way. He nodded in good bye and ambled away.
That wasn’t very nice. Commented Disasterstrike from her perch in a tree.
Oh joy, oh rapture. You’re back. He said woefully.
Code: Spring
Clan: Thunderclan
Position: Apprentice
Age: Unknown
Gender: Tom
Peltage: Ghostpaw is a lithe white tom, with large amber-yellow eyes. His fur is short and glossy, and well cared for. He is a smallish apprentice, and his eyes have a disconcerting manner of boring holes into anyone he dislikes. His ears are slightly to big, and he has a long tail. His lengthy tail allows him impeccable balance and grace in all his movements. He is one of those cats that was born with an aristocratic grace, making everything he does look elegant and practiced. His face is handsome, and he has a slender body form. He is strong, but his muscles do not bulge unattractively, rather they do not stick out much. His eyes never betray what he think, but when he is angered they darken. His voice is low, and rasping with an elegant accent that most around the forest do not have. His tongue is pink, as is his nose. His laws are long and bladedly sharp. His teeth are curved canines that can take another animals life in a flash. He has unnaturally quick reflexes, and he is abnormally fast. Though he is not buff in any manner, he is strong, and it is difficult to beat him in battle.
Picture:
Personality: Ghostpaw lives up to his name well. He has haunted dreams, and is skittish. On the outside he is calm, and polite with a wicked wit. His charismatic demeanor earns him many friends, and his apparently easy humor is appealing to most. His unusual battle, hunting, and tracking skills make him a model to many, but what appeals to most is his ability to sense feelings quite well. But he is edgy, and sees things others do not. His dreams are haunted by ghosts of the past. He hears things, and dreams of reality. He never tells anyone. But something that he guards with his life is his ability to speak to cats he thinks do not exist. They may be figments of his imagination, they may be the dead, but he speaks them and sees them everywhere. He is polite to others, and has a carefree attitude for life on his outward mask, and despite his unusual abilities, rarely applies himself.
IC: Look. Here cometh thy dog, Ghost Speaker.
Ghostpaw turned around in a dejected way. Sure enough, there stood a spirit. Pale as could be, this wraith was a tabby with the natural black eyes all phantoms he saw had. Only he recognized this one.
Disasterstrike. The white cat commented telepathically. I can’t say it’s good to see you.
Still in denial, Ghost Speaker? the tabby said ironically, a grin setting across her translucent mouth.
Call it what you like, I know you don’t exist. Ghostpaw furrowed his brow at the other cat. He knew that this was bad, that he was hallucinating. He glared at her coolly, amber eyes boring into her spitefully.
If I don’t exist, why are you making faces at me? The wraith taunted. She inspected her claws casually as if her taunt had no barbs.
Because since you don’t exist, I can’t very well tackle you. Now shoo, I hear some really cats coming. The white cat snapped telepathically. He turned away from her, hoping to discourage her from talking to him anymore.
Oh, trying to make me jealous with your living friends? Spat the wraith acidly.
Is it working? He snapped back, then using a power he had discovered only a moon earlier banished her.
Ghostpaw? Are you alright? It was that kitty pet he had asked for directions not a long tiem ago. His eyes slid back into focus, and he gave her a polite, dashing smile.
Of course. I’ll be on my way. He nodded in good bye and ambled away.
That wasn’t very nice. Commented Disasterstrike from her perch in a tree.
Oh joy, oh rapture. You’re back. He said woefully.
Code: Spring
