Post by Red Ace Solitaire on Sept 5, 2007 22:07:56 GMT -5
Before we start, may I press that I am completely anti-clan stereotypes. I believe in every type of cat in every type of clan, otherwise we'd have a very boring site. If we only had greedy cats in RiverClan, brave cats in ThunderClan, evil cats in ShadowClan, and smart cats in WindClan, where on god's green earth would Cricketkit go? =)
[glow=green,2,300]Name:[/glow] CricketKit
[glow=green,2,300]Clan:[/glow] ThunderClan
[glow=green,2,300]Position:[/glow] Kit
[glow=green,2,300]Age:[/glow] Five Moons
[glow=green,2,300]Gender:[/glow] Male
[glow=green,2,300]Peltage:[/glow] Cricketkit's pelt is soft and still shaggy with the traces of kithood, so as his shorter fur grows in, there are still many odd long hairs that stick out, waiting to be replaced by a tom's fur. His face is innocent, with wide, luminous teal-green eyes and a small mouth that harbors tiny, pearly teeth. There is nothing very unique about his build, for he has lost his baby fat, and so his limbs and body are smooth and healthy as any cat's ought be. His height is of any male kitten his age, thigh-high to a full grown tomcat. His fur is mango orange, with dark orange ripples signature of the classic tabby. In his eyes, a playfulness dwindles, a curiosity always burning. As most kits mature and grow towards apprentenship, they lose that wide-eyed look, but Cricketkit has not, and probably never will.
[glow=green,2,300]Picture:[/glow]
[glow=green,2,300]Personality:[/glow] Cricketkit is a heck of a playful tom, curious and rule-breaking, always energetic and humorous and bouncy. He pays little attention and doesn't ever try, your classic underachiever. Even as young as he is, you can tell his fascination with the opposite gender, and as rude as he is with adults, young ladies always have his gentlemanly attention. It's the only time you can get him to be serious: When dealing with the fairer sex. What a player, eh?
If brought to a real crisis, though, his leadership skills shine through bright and proud. He is more a leader than a follower, and shows it. He can be serious about it too, which is a good quality, although often, serious turns into grave.
Cricketkit also has a breathing problem. He was born with weak lungs, and so over-exerting himself can be highly dangerous, but he never lets it stop him.
[glow=green,2,300]IC:[/glow]
(I was originally going to put him in RiverClan and don't feel like changing the IC, so.. Whatev.)
How coldly the sun did shine, how bare seemed the trees, their dark gray branches reaching in a tangled mess towards the sky, like a mesh black cage against the gray clouds. Chunks of ice floated down the trademark river that gave the clan it's name.. No cat would dare to swim in such a frozen current. All the world seemed to be cloaked in stillness, cold and white and uninviting. How Cricketkit wished the winter months would pass..
Everyone seemed distant today. They all looked at his playful antics with annoyance and bitter tones. "Be quiet, Cricketkit," it was, or perhaps, "Leave me alone and go play," or one of his favorites, "Get the heck off my tail." So now he lay in the frosty grass, that had been so trampled that the delicate coating of ice had been crunched into a messy layer of wetness with occasional solid particles that sat on the frozen, muddy ground. It was cold, it was wet, it was bland an unexciting.. It was just plain boring.
None of the kits wanted to come outside and play. They all told him it was too cold. And so, out of pure defiance and desire to show them how sissy they were, he sat in the freezing air stubbornly. If he went back inside, surely he'd be mocked for being a sissy himself.. Harrumph. Not today. He was made a fool of on a regular basis.. Not today.
(( "Get the heck off my tail." It sounded so much better when I could use the word I wanted to use. Dratted censorship.))
[glow=green,2,300]Code:[/glow] Blood, I think? That was the word in the capital letters..
[glow=green,2,300]Name:[/glow] CricketKit
[glow=green,2,300]Clan:[/glow] ThunderClan
[glow=green,2,300]Position:[/glow] Kit
[glow=green,2,300]Age:[/glow] Five Moons
[glow=green,2,300]Gender:[/glow] Male
[glow=green,2,300]Peltage:[/glow] Cricketkit's pelt is soft and still shaggy with the traces of kithood, so as his shorter fur grows in, there are still many odd long hairs that stick out, waiting to be replaced by a tom's fur. His face is innocent, with wide, luminous teal-green eyes and a small mouth that harbors tiny, pearly teeth. There is nothing very unique about his build, for he has lost his baby fat, and so his limbs and body are smooth and healthy as any cat's ought be. His height is of any male kitten his age, thigh-high to a full grown tomcat. His fur is mango orange, with dark orange ripples signature of the classic tabby. In his eyes, a playfulness dwindles, a curiosity always burning. As most kits mature and grow towards apprentenship, they lose that wide-eyed look, but Cricketkit has not, and probably never will.
[glow=green,2,300]Picture:[/glow]
[glow=green,2,300]Personality:[/glow] Cricketkit is a heck of a playful tom, curious and rule-breaking, always energetic and humorous and bouncy. He pays little attention and doesn't ever try, your classic underachiever. Even as young as he is, you can tell his fascination with the opposite gender, and as rude as he is with adults, young ladies always have his gentlemanly attention. It's the only time you can get him to be serious: When dealing with the fairer sex. What a player, eh?
If brought to a real crisis, though, his leadership skills shine through bright and proud. He is more a leader than a follower, and shows it. He can be serious about it too, which is a good quality, although often, serious turns into grave.
Cricketkit also has a breathing problem. He was born with weak lungs, and so over-exerting himself can be highly dangerous, but he never lets it stop him.
[glow=green,2,300]IC:[/glow]
(I was originally going to put him in RiverClan and don't feel like changing the IC, so.. Whatev.)
How coldly the sun did shine, how bare seemed the trees, their dark gray branches reaching in a tangled mess towards the sky, like a mesh black cage against the gray clouds. Chunks of ice floated down the trademark river that gave the clan it's name.. No cat would dare to swim in such a frozen current. All the world seemed to be cloaked in stillness, cold and white and uninviting. How Cricketkit wished the winter months would pass..
Everyone seemed distant today. They all looked at his playful antics with annoyance and bitter tones. "Be quiet, Cricketkit," it was, or perhaps, "Leave me alone and go play," or one of his favorites, "Get the heck off my tail." So now he lay in the frosty grass, that had been so trampled that the delicate coating of ice had been crunched into a messy layer of wetness with occasional solid particles that sat on the frozen, muddy ground. It was cold, it was wet, it was bland an unexciting.. It was just plain boring.
None of the kits wanted to come outside and play. They all told him it was too cold. And so, out of pure defiance and desire to show them how sissy they were, he sat in the freezing air stubbornly. If he went back inside, surely he'd be mocked for being a sissy himself.. Harrumph. Not today. He was made a fool of on a regular basis.. Not today.
(( "Get the heck off my tail." It sounded so much better when I could use the word I wanted to use. Dratted censorship.))
[glow=green,2,300]Code:[/glow] Blood, I think? That was the word in the capital letters..
