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#Post#: 967--------------------------------------------------
decesso || second tier of bloodclan || ready!
By: whisper Date: November 2, 2012, 5:17 pm
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[center][font=georgia]decesso[/font]
tall abyssinian tom with vibrant green eyes
roleplayed by whisper
HTML http://media-cache-lt0.pinterest.com/upload/226868899949264981_XHxzmAUz_c.jpg
[/center]
[center][font=arial]oh, crystal ball, hear my song
I'm fading out, everything I know is wrong
so put me where I belong[/font][/center]
[font=georgia]NAME –[/font] Decesso
[font=georgia]GENDER –[/font] Male
[font=georgia]AGE –[/font] 24 moons
[font=georgia]CLAN –[/font] BloodClan
[font=georgia]RANK –[/font] second tier
[center][font=arial]who is the man I see
where I'm supposed to be?
I lost my heart, I buried it too deep
[/font][/center]
[font=georgia]COAT –[/font] [sup]Shades of Brown[/sup]
[font=georgia]EYES –[/font] [sup]Dark Green[/sup]
[font=georgia]BREED –[/font] [sup]Abyssinian Male[/sup]
[font=georgia]APPEARANCE –[/font]
[sup]Abyssinians' are known for their beautiful coats and
almond-shaped eyes, and decesso is no exception. Medium-length
fur coats his lithe build and lean legs. Each hair has a soft
brown base color, with three or four darker-colored bands
surrounding it. A lighter color highlights the roots, growing a
darker brown tickling at the tip. Matched with the silky feel
and dense weight of the fur, every step creates a ripple of
color along his pelt.
Well-developed muscles hide in the cover of his slender legs. A
fine bone structure creates an illusion of added height and
wider build about him, making his broad head seemingly
proportional to the rest of his body. A few darker specks of fur
are sprinkled across his legs and back, though a cat must be
within pelt-brushing distance to notice them. His back paws are
ever-so-slightly darker than the rest of his body, though, just
as the darker specks, you must be close to see them. The pads
under his feet are a light grey-rosy mix, and calloused from the
jagged rocks of the BloodClan cliffs. His tail is longer than
most cats', broad at the base, slimming down toward the tip. A
darker stripe runs down his tail, engulfing the tip in a bleak
brown, speckled with tiny golden flecks. Because of the tails'
length, he has great balance, and can perch on even the tiniest
ledges.
decesso's head is slightly wedge-shaped, and broad. His
almond-shaped eyes are a rich green color, with flecks of a
darker shade near the pupil. A long, M-shaped mark is formed at
his forehead by darker tufts of fur, the thick, vertical lines
of the M creating a look similar to the front view of a badger.
His ears are broad and cupped at the base, slightly pointed to
the tip. A few tufts of light hair stick out of his ears.
His paws are slightly larger than most of his breed, though this
means they are still quite small. Dark tufts of fur are
sprinkled across the bottom of his paws, near his pads. A small
nick in between his first and second claw on his right paw, and
a larger, longer scar - visible only when the fur on his back is
pushed aside - reminds him of the dark circumstances of his
birth, and death that is his namesake.[/sup]
[center][font=arial]this is the last time
that I will say these words
I remember the first time
[/font][/center]
[font=georgia]GREATEST STRENGTH –[/font] [sup]the Power of the
Mind[/sup]
[font=georgia]TOUGHEST OBSTACLE –[/font] [sup]Learning to let
Go[/sup]
[font=georgia]ORIENTATION –[/font] [sup]Heterosexual[/sup]
[font=georgia]PERSONALITY –[/font]
[sup]The two cats had never made it official, for surely the
Clan would have forbid it, but decesso had loved Moonstar, and
she him, and her death had destroyed what small life he had
finally begun to carve for himself. Even before the deaths,
decesso had begun a quiet kit. His voice was always deep, and
coming from the direct line of Blood's descendants, a light
accent uplifts the notes of his tone. He is perfectly capable of
speaking up when he pleases, but the tom finds no sense in
making a comment on everything, or speaking just to hear the
sound of one's own voice. With every passing - his father,
first, and soon after his siblings, and then his aunt - decesso
had lost every person who he felt comfortable sharing feelings
with, so he learned to keep to himself, harboring a sense of
safety in loneliness.
The tom has never been one to jump to conclusions, nor has he
ever made any rash or impulsive decisions. The BloodClan leader
takes every decision slowly and carefully, calculating the
effects and results of his moves, taking in the observations of
the life around him. Spending his life in reservation, decesso
has learned to read the expressions and body movements in
others; same as his father, he has learned the secrets of
reading people through their eyes. His own eyes are guarded with
their own specials defenses; his expression is completely
unreadable.
Until meeting Moonstar, decesso had never been sure of his
place. Cautious and uncertain, the tom has always struggled with
loyalty to his Clan. BloodClan's leader is absolutely positive
that he would die protecting his Clan from danger, but that is
not loyalty to him - this is simply a lack of high priority in
his own life. Was it not better to die, anyhow, when his
Moonstar would be there waiting for him?
From kithood, he trained as an apprentice because he knew thats
what he was supposed to do; never the best nor the worst. The
tom kept to himself, being just good enough to please his
mentor; just enough to pass the apprentice evaluation and earn
his warrior name,. He has never had a particular love for
BloodClan's cold, chilly mountain winds; nor does he love the
unsteadiness of the rocks, or the sudden cliffs and the sharp
peaks. The forest has never appealed to him, either; the sharp
leaves of the Ruins' trees cling to his fur, and StarClan knows
what it would be like to have to find your way through the dark,
damp rain forest. What decesso truly loves - and where he often
spends his nights, contemplating - is the Black Mountain.
Perhaps because it reminds him of himself: a body of charred
earth, where nothing grows, lying dormant for centuries. decesso
is often restless at night, and will make the trip to the
Mountain to relax, admiring the stars and what he hopes is
Moonstar, watching him from above. [/sup]
[center][font=arial]oh, simple thing, where have you gone?
getting old and I need something to rely on
so tell me when, you're gonna let me in[/font][/center]
[font=georgia]GREATEST INFLUENCE –[/font] [sup]His passion,
fighting.[/sup]
[font=georgia]MOTIVATION –[/font] [sup]Clan Duty[/sup]
[font=georgia]HISTORY –[/font]
PARENTS' HISTORY / KITHOOD [sup]
Speckledfrost and Slipstone always knew they would be mates.
Even as kits, playing in the nursery - as both their mothers
birthed on the same day - they knew their future. 'I'll be the
mother, and you'll be the dad,' Speckledkit would say, her
beautiful white coat fluffed in excitement. Slipkit, rolling
onto his stomach, his thick fur nearly tripping him again, would
shake his head. 'No - you'll be the ShadowClan intruder, and
I'll be the BloodClan leader!' and would go on to tackle Speckle
to the ground.
It was love at first sight.
The two matured, becoming apprentices on the same setting sun -
Speckledpaw and Slip-paw - and taking their final apprentice
test on the same afternoon. Speckledpaw was the loud one -
always talking, always excited. Her bright pelt bounced around
the camp from sunrise 'till sunset; she loved to chat in camp
more than hunting for dirty food. Warrior duties bored her;
memorizing herbs was too much to handle. Slip-paw, however,
found his place early: to be Clan leader was his dream. Often,
he would sneak out of camp at night, and share his practices
with the moon. Fighting anything he could - even a simple tree
truck - would strengthen his legs into powerful muscles. He
craved the title, the respect others gave to a cat with nine
lives granted by StarClan. On the night of their ceremony, they
sat vigil together, Speckledfrost's thoughts of today's cool
weather, and Slipstone on how he would sneak up on a warrior
with a heavier build. Their fur brushed.
At twenty-one moons, Speckledfrost found her calling: she was
heavy with Slipstone's kits. If loud and happy was her usual
mood, the thought of bearing the one she loved a kit was more
than she could handle. Speckledfrost was overjoyed; Slipstone
was not. How could he be worrying about kits, he argued, at such
a crucial time as this? Slipstone had his first apprentice - one
of the requirements for becoming Clan deputy. He would put all
his energy in his apprentice - training and hunting and training
some more. Tell no one who is it's father, Slipstone murmured
into her ear.
Speckledfrost soon fell ill - no one in the Clan was for sure
why; Slipstone assured himself it was just first-time birthing
nerves - yet the kits came, all three: two toms and a beautiful
she-cat. Speckledfrost, feeling to tired to think, chose to wait
a few days before calling her kits by name. Soon it was evident
Speckledfrost was not producing enough milk. There were no other
queens at the time; the medicine cat did all she could, and
still it was no use. Mousekit and Frostkit - named after their
passing - were buried two days later. Yet still a third kit
remained.
Speckledfrost put all her hope and energy into this kit, looking
most like her love - they shared the same fur and the same odd
markings across the head. The same eyes, she knew after they
opened. Still, she waited to name him; he would be perfect, this
kit she would love with three times as much passion as she had
for all her children. And to be perfect you must begin with the
perfect name.
A bit more than a week after the third kit's birth, a clan of
badgers visited BloodClan. The battle was bloody, and nearly
every cat suffered wounds. The aggressive creatures wanted their
territory back. But they would not have it, Slipstone was
determined. He fought more than any other cat, suffering little
wounds - a good bite to the shoulder did not slow him down in
the slightest.
And the Clan was able to drive the badgers out - but not before
one young cub got to the nursery. Slipstone chased after it,
into the dark, humid hole where the lonely queen waited,
sheltering her kit with her weak body. They would stand no
chance alone. The badger shouldered its way inside, and quickly
identified Speckledfrost's bright, snowy pelt. But the cub was
young, and thirsty for an easy kill - the kit she protected. It
picked up the kit in its paw, ready to take the final blow. But
Slipstone was quicker - with a yowl he leaped onto the badger
and took it down. The kit let out a high-pitched yowl, and
leaped from the badger's grasp and onto its head. In that
moment, Speckledfrost saw the resemblance between her beloved
son and this dirty beast - the same markings, the same eyes. And
by dirty beast, she meant Slipstone.
The badger fell to Slipstone - as many of the other badgers had
- and the father brought his son by the scruff of his neck to
his mother. The two had not spoken since the kits' birth; many
things were left unsaid, and will continue to be. The badger,
summoning its last bit of energy, rose and raked its thick claws
across Slipstone's pelt, across his neck. He died, before the
eyes of his former mate, his son held between his jaws. The
badger died with him.
It was then that Speckledfrost chose a name for her son. a name
of death. decesso.
{decesso mean death in italian} [/sup]
APPRENTICESHIP / WARRIOR LIFE [sup]
as an apprentice, memories haunted him, of the badger attack at
the former BloodClan camp. And another cat - a tom, with thick,
shining fur and a sharp gaze. Who was the cat, he asked his
mother. His shyness had not hit him, yet. Neither had wonderings
of his parents. It was then when deccy learned of his father -
that night, he could not stand to be in the camp. He snuck out a
small passage alongside the waterfall and fled into the forest,
into the safety that he found with the moon. Many thoughts ran
through his head - and to push them away, he thought of useless
things: the size of the leaves, the cool shades of the rocks,
the clash of the bright stars' light against the night's
darkness.
If his own father did not want him, what other cat would want to
be his friend?
And decesso took to himself, speaking only when spoken too. He
drifted from the relationship with his mother, and his aunt,
Nightpelt, watched over him. His thoughts and feelings drew him
into solitude, and in that solitude he found peace. decesso
became a warrior, proving himself a good listener and hunter,
and a difficult opponent in battle. From his first night in the
apprentice cavern, decesso held a soft spot for the beautiful
Moonside - it was too far-fetched, of course. She was strong,
and independent, and older than him; with sharp features and
such a commanding presence even the senior warriors listened to
her opinion.
The she-cat had never paid decesso much mind, but when the two
were assigned a small border patrol during a greencough
epidemic, the cats stayed talking long after the patrol was
complete. She was intelligent, and he noticed details about the
world around them that she would never have exposed herself to.
The argued morals, and principles; they argue values and
loyalties. For once in a long time, decesso had felt a true tie
to his Clan; he opened up, and perhaps he could begin to put the
past behind him.
Moonside became deputy, when the previous was attacked by a wild
dog near the border of the territory. This changed things - she
was his senior in rank, and her new role in her Clan meant that
the two could never be true mates. At night, when the Clan slept
softly, the two would sneak away to the Black Mountain (a place
they were sure no one would stumble upon them) and share nights
together underneath the glorious stars.
Then BloodClan's leader lost his last life in a terrible
struggle with tropical fever, and things changed. Moonside
became Moonstar; her responsibilities of her leadership and her
Clan took over, and she chose a strong, confident senior warrior
named Streakpelt to be her deputy. decesso watched his
apprentice become a warrior. The mates spent time together when
they could, but their lives had changed.
Moonstar's death was just a shock as Streakpelt's, in a terrible
war against the shadowclanners. Moonstar, dead at the shadowclan
leader's paws. streakpelt, taking his own life due to the fact
he 'was not ready' to become leader.
[/sup]
[center][font=arial]I'm here just like I said
though its breaking every rule I've ever made
my racing heart is just the same
[/font][/center]
OTHER: [sup]story is completely made up. he is 'over' moonstar,
and he will not take part in his 'new' life. c: deccy's name is
lowercased for swaggery 8)[/sup]
[right][sup]
crystal ball | keane
this is the last time | keane
somewhere only we know | keane
leave right now | william young[/i][/sup][/right]
#Post#: 969--------------------------------------------------
Re: decesso || second tier of bloodclan || ready!
By: Spanish lullaby Date: November 2, 2012, 5:26 pm
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Accepted! Beautiful bio :)
#Post#: 973--------------------------------------------------
Re: decesso || second tier of bloodclan || ready!
By: whisper Date: November 2, 2012, 5:39 pm
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[sup]'tank you c:[/sup]
#Post#: 1077--------------------------------------------------
Re: decesso || second tier of bloodclan || ready!
By: hawkfire Date: November 2, 2012, 11:25 pm
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Back up here; 2nd Tier position is full and can now only be
gained IC. Sorry.
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