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Post by shatteredheart on Oct 28, 2009 19:22:37 GMT -5
SHATTEREDHEART !
GENDER ( she-cat )
AGE ( thirty one moons )
CLAN ( tealclan )
RANK ( medicine cat )
APPEARANCE
( We all must wear one face or another, or there would be no identity to give ourselves. Shatteredheart's anatomy begins at the bones, the true structure made of metal or glass. Her bones, they are fragile, like wineglasses being precariously stacked upon each other, like the new Russian roulette. Therefore, her bones are quite slender and quite delicate, giving her body a delicate, porcelain appearance, that of a doll. She is also quite light-looking, for she is of quite the petite stance. Around these precarious bones is the layer of flesh and muscle. Muscle gently whispers its presence around every corner of her body, giving her a lean, tight figure, like a package about to implode upon itself. We add on all the frivolous material, now, eyes, mouth, button nose, and fur. Her eyes, they are a stunning, electric ochre-silver, a violent mix of metallic silver and an autumn hue into a stunning iris. Her eyes look like a canvas of an ochre background with flecks of silver scattered all around, like shards of silver bullets on a battlefield. They are dramatically, harshly framed by darkly lined eyelids. Her nose, of a dark rouge, is button-like, small and petite like her. From that rouge nose is the fireworks of lacy, thin whiskers blossoming from her maw. To cover her flesh is medium-length fur that is washed in the darkest ebony that is only broken by a little white on her ears and maw. Scars, one scar trickles from her right eye to the corner of her mouth, mimicking the crescent curve on the moon. Her second scar is a large X from left axila to right shoulder and right axila to left shoulder. )
STRENGTHS
( intellect & philosophy )
( emotional analysis )
( hunting )
( stalking )
( healing in general )
( understanding pain )
WEAKNESSES
( inability to display emotions )
( socializing )
( becoming violent and dangerous )
( critical )
( self-conscious )
( fear of general emotions & the result of displaying emotion )
( panic attacks )
PERSONALITY
( Behind our masks, there is another place, a place where one thing does not look like what it is, masks within masks, trying to reveal the truth. Shatteredheart, a subject to her own torture, a prisoner to her own mindset, her own programming that had ridicules her. To begin, the summary and the moral to Shatteredheart is a whimsical, dangerous, violent, scared, unemotional, analytical, philosophical, imaginative, and understanding female feline. With all those adjectives, we must plunge deeper to find the wires her mind, to understand why there is lightning in her storm and to understand why she has such a delicate, porcelain heart. Whimsical, she is very free with her thoughts, no restraints can hold her train of thought down, the brakes are broken and the driver is flooring it. Off we go. Dangerous and violent, the deadly duo, the malicious pair, which Shatteredheart is subjected to in her own mind. She cannot blame her violence on an anger malfunction but simply from some type of disorder in her mind that makes her violent and dangerous quickly, something she is embarrassed of which causes her to become quite introverted as well as forms the habit of shying away from other cats. Scared, fearful, panicked, whatever the term Shatteredheart is afraid. Not of something in particular like the water but instead she is afraid of feeling for another only for her already patched and sewn up heart to be ripped and torn again and again. She is afraid of being hurt and hurting another, therefore she prefers to be unattached to the world, only daring to love or feel at peace with her herbs, plants, and nature. Therefore, through this fear, she is unemotional, a smile or frown would feel sore on her face and laughter would probably hurt her ribcage by this point. But feelings are like wildfire in her mind, burning to become expressed, like too many doves and pigeons in one cage. One day it must burst ... Analytical, her ochre eyes and lightning fast mind quickly can analyze an emotion and come up with an eloquent illustration or analogy for it, her vague riddles rolling off of her lips in her manner of strange speaking. Philosophy, thoughts are always going through her mind, smooth and whispering, almost like voices in her head. They are not survival thoughts "eat" "sleep" or the et cetera, but deep, plunging thoughts that could question our own existence and our own beings as well as our emotions and thought processes. Imaginative, imagination runs as rampant as her whimsical nature. Imagination creates those odd thoughts about emotions, comparing sadness to paper hearts trying to dry in a thunderstorm. With all this complicated, and slightly frightening, thought process occurring in her skull it is not hard to say that she understands many felines. Dilemmas that she has never experienced she can feel pain and empathy for, she tends to suffer slightly with her patients, but this allows her to understand and treat their pain. It is a pain worth taking. )
LIKES
( herbs & nature )
( confessionals from others )
( offering her riddles of understanding )
( hunting & fresh kill )
( others pondering with her )
DISLIKES
( shallow thought processes )
( feeling for others )
( lack of understanding )
( ignorance )
( desperation )
HISTORY
( We all begin humbly, deaf, blind, weak, practically dead if it were for the nurture of others and their acts of kindness. Shatteredheart began as Shatteredkit, such a strange name if it were not for the way she always stumbled around weakly, like she was a broken toy. She was raised with her brother, Thistlekit, and her sister, Spiderkit. From early on Shatteredkit seemed strange, always very clingy, crying when anyone dared to leave her sight. It seemed like a strange disorder that when her mother, Morningspeckle, scorned her about, her little heart was broken but healed. No longer did she cling, no longer did she cry, she just sat, completely detached. Shatteredkit attempted to play with the others but sometimes she would become very rough, sometimes using her claws, which she was severely punished about. Slowly, they were breaking her spirit, her being, and she was forced to grow differently. So she began to mature, eyes turning from their young blue to her vibrant silver-ochre, her legs becoming less chubby and juvenile. Soon enough, she was six moons old, still depressed, still broken, but healing. Being an apprentice offered another dimension, a chance to prove herself to others. Her mentor, Thrushheart, was a gentle mentor, but loved battling instead of hunting. Their bond was chaotic, Thrushheart being jumpy and loving life while Shatteredpaw would remain silent and brood. When the chance of fighting, the adrenaline-filled lessons, turned the corner and hit Shatteredpaw she found her violent twist. She injured her friends in a competitive, blood-seeking contest, she had found her Jekyll when she wanted to be Hyde. The medicine cat in the clan, Littlefeather, always took great interest in the young apprentices, her interest was especially peaked due to her lack of apprentice herself. The days went by, Shatteredpaw as depressed and brooding as ever, watching the ultramarine sky become washed in a bloody carmine and ochre only to see the sun revive itself in the same fashion. Once, during the sun's valiant daily death, before stars spilled across the ebony, spacious sky, Littlefeather approached Shatteredpaw in her place slightly away from the apprentice's den. She had been watching Shatteredpaw's troubles like a mother hawk, vigilant and observing but never interfering. She had spoken to Thrushheart and decided that Littlefeather should take over as her mentor, redirecting Shatteredpaw's before hopeless journey. Light filled that little box of hope in Shatteredpaw's mind, finally refilled with that emotion that had been missing for so, so long that it ached to feel it again. Still, her depressed demeanor was permanently imprinted on her brain, no longer just a smudge you can wash away. Yet she found a more settling peace with working with herbs, flowers, and nature in general. She also felt secure with a new wall that shrouded her from peering eyes, the wall that would prevent feeling between her and another, which made her feel secure, especially due to her fear and situation with emotions. Shatteredpaw became Shatteredheart after Littlefeather passed away. Shatteredheart carries on as the Teal Clan medicine cat. )
OTHER
( not much to note. )
( the sample below is from a wolf roleplay, I can write something in a more warriors genre if required. )
EXAMPLE
( Electric eyes had rolled over his features, eyeballs smoothly making motion in their lubricated sockets, lemon-lime laser beam searching every inch of his body, every feature of a wolf anatomy. There wasn't much else to look at, the lost; swaying flowers set a rhythm of an unsteady, jolting heartbeat as the wind kept them on their toes. The sky was winning her attention as she let her eyes drift lightly to the sky, illumination of lightning still flashing, its light show not over yet. The clouds swirled in perplexing patterns; a gyroscope-pattern swirling like a martini at the disco. As quickly as her attention was distracted she was back, gravity with her feet still on the ground, ( what a shame, sigh. ) If he was a Spartan prince then she was a ringleader, let the sequins dazzle their eyes, the illusions will blind their minds tonight. Illusions, tricks, and the et cetera, they were incomprehensible to the simple minds, stunning, ( flash, flash, disappeared and back. ) To cut a volunteer in half, stabbing the box with swords, only to rejoin their split anatomy, the crowd cheered at the faux display of defying death. The doves, flying and suddenly rushing into nothing but thin air, gone, they disappear, gasp before the silence is broken by applaud. ( razzle-dazzle, the sinister glare behind the ruby-red curtains and the glittering circus crowd. ) Mind games, the electric buzz of the sanity and imagination, it was tingling in her mind for a split second, before coolness washed it away. Her mischievous face calmed into a humorous intelligence, one tantalizing and out of reach. Intelligence was the fuel of her mind factory, the factory of ticking time bombs, imaginary of course, but just as dangerous as physical dynamite. ( tick, tick, tick; dangerous dynamite. ) Alyss was intelligently spontaneous, but free of any iron-laced fist around her throat. ( i’ll do the choking. )
She was a snake, slithering through his secret garden, sliding right through the forbidden gates as she wore a predator’s smile, one of a vicious vice on his mind. For seconds he was at her mercy, in retrospect. To dig through closets, skeleton bones flung around, littering the mind’s floor. Maybe hearts could be found, growing or wilted; paper, plastic, or maybe glowing with the present day, someone’s photograph in the pink atmosphere of that imaginary symbol. Lemon-lime, sweet-sour eyes smirked internally, their electrocuting gaze watching shadows cover his face, a mimicking expression upon his sweet little façade. If any part of her mind thought that any wolf was just a puppet like so many fools, she would’ve already shot herself. ( dangerous idiocy; the two are bound to clash. ) Her own mind that was crawling into his peered around, looking at nothing nor for anything, just to give the full effect. Alyss’s crisp, chilly conscious skimmed his mind, a chilling effect with her cold atmosphere. Easily as this cool hand reached into his mind she gently, slowly withdrew with a small smirk playing predatory games with her expression. An airy chuckle with eccentric, erratic wisps of sound slowly drifted into his mind as a good bye to another conscious as it was released into an almost silent, soft sound. “Аз знам може би вече неща, Или може би аз не знам нищо изобщо. Аз ще пазя онази моята малка тайна. I already know many things, or maybe I know nothing at all. I’ll keep that my little secret, ” she said smoothly, a dramatic accent dripping attractive slurs and staccatos upon the secretive words. She did not missing a beat in her dramatic talk, only a suspenseful pause in breath here and there. ( make them sweat. ) “Бурите не са ли драматични? Те запращат тяхната убиваща сила срещу потъмнял фон, за всичко ние знаем, че то можеше да просто бъде картон, докато ние усещаме силния вятър, карайки се да искаме да изключим Гравитацията. Въображаемите лекарства са най -примамливото за всичко. Aren’t storms dramatic? They fling their electrocuting power against a darkened background, for all we know it could just be cardboard, while we feel the strong wind, making us want to defy gravity. Imaginary physics are the most tantalizing of all, ” She watched him with cool, frightening eyes, watching his physical language as he wouldn’t take his eyes off her. ( lethal minded. )
( ooc &! just tell me if the medicine cat slot isn't available ) |
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