Post by Jelly on Aug 28, 2010 2:59:51 GMT -5
M I S S I O N
[/size][/color]*kiss my eyes and lay me to sleep* [/font][/color]
[/center]
the puppet master * *
name: Jelly
gender: Girl
password: Removed by staff
where you found us: Caution’s directory
let me introduce you too * *
name[/b]: Mission
gender[/b]: She-cat
age[/b]: Three years, one month
fixed[/b]: Nope.[/blockquote][/size]
nothing more than feelings * *
positives[/b]: Determined, street-smart, social, curious, open-minded
negatives[/b]: Challenges nearly all authority, often acts without thinking, can be sarcastic and sharp-tongued, will do almost anything to prove herself, easily hurt emotionally
past style[/b]: Not very. She grew depressed and listless after her brother’s death, but when she was nursed back to health, she returned to being the bright, determined cat she still is today.
brief personality[/b]: The most prominent trait Mission possesses is probably her determination. Without it, she would have died long ago. She has a strong will and will never give up on anything or anyone. Trying to convince her to is a vain attempt, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t a reasonable cat. She is open minded and known to change her mind, to change her views on the world and those she knows. She is not a fool and can tell when someone is trying to trick her, and she is clever enough to play along with something if she can make it turn out all right in the end. She will never forget the past, and she will never forget if someone wrongs her or those she cares about. She may forgive, but she will never forget.[/blockquote][/size]
easy on the eyes **
fur style[/b]: Her pelt is smooth and sleek, healthy and well-kept for a street cat. It is short but thick and warm. In color, her fur is a soft, simple dark gray.
eyes[/b] Deep blue in color, she has the typical round eyes of any other ‘mutt’ of a stray cat. These, and her tail, are the best ways to gauge her emotions.
build[/b]: Thin and long-legged, she is a wiry cat built for speed yet packing a punch when she needs it. Her long build grants her a height where most cats must look up to meet her gaze, but as to body mass, she is not very large. She possesses a very long, whip-like tail that is very indicative of her mood. She has only three legs, as she is missing her right hind-leg.
scars[/b]: Missing her right hind-leg, it was amputated surgically after the bone was shattered. Any other scars she has are minor enough to be covered by her short pelt.[/blockquote][/size]
the dirty truth **
mother[/b] Cecily, deceased. NPC.
father[/b]: Diver, location/situation unknown – doesn’t even know he has kits, much less that she’s grown now. NPC.
siblings[/b]: Brother, deceased. NPC
lovers[/b]: None.
kits[/b]: None.
friends[/b]: None.
other[/b]: Nope.
timeline[/b] Names have never been important to Mission. In her youngest days, she had no name to speak of, as her mother never named her. Her mother had been extremely sick since before her birth, and she just barely survived long enough for her kits to fend for themselves. There was only one other in the litter, a very small tom who called her Sister, and who she called Brother. He had caught their mother’s sickness, but in the early days, it hardly affected him. Over the course of the few moons they lived on the streets together, it grew worse and worse, until it came to the point where he could hardly move enough to eat the scavenged food his sister found for him or drink the water from the soaked moss balls she brought him. He survived longer than their mother had simply because he had his sister to care for him, but in the end, it was all in vain. He slipped away quietly and peacefully in his sleep, as she lay curled up beside him.
She was devastated and almost joined him as she lost interest in everything and slowly wasted away. She was found and taken in by a young veterinarian who nursed her back to life and gave her the name Mission. She lived with him until she reached the age of two years, a picture of health and happy living. But she wasn’t really happy. As much as she appreciated the safety and care her owner provided, the life of a house cat didn’t suit her. She was allowed to take journeys outside, and her lonely excursions grew longer and longer.
One night she just happened to be passing the local bar when a group of drunken men stumbled out. Loud, slurred voices, raised in anger, easily warned her away, but then she caught sight of a small tom cowering between the men and the building, cornered by the large men and the glinting metal weapons they held loosely. Struck by the incredible resemblance to her brother, she ran towards the dangerous group, capturing their attention as she leapt at and clawed the legs of the nearest one. The man cried out in pain and swung a heavy hand at her but she leapt back out of range. A quick glance showed her that the tom had taken the chance to run, but looked back fearfully to see the fate of his rescuer. Their eyes locked just long enough for her to see that his were not the same color as her brother’s, and then he turned and disappeared into the night. She followed suit, whirling around and racing in the opposite direction down the street. Angry shouts followed her, and then came the sound of a bullet meeting the ground where her paws her been moments before. She didn’t know what a gun and bullet were, but she did know that whatever it was, it was dangerous. She put on a burst of speed, but the next shot was aimed with more skill, and pain ripped through her right hind-leg. She fell to the ground, skidding and rolling until her momentum was spent. Her mind shut down as shock flooded her system, blocking the excruciating, throbbing pain, the reek and wetness of the shallow puddle she had ended up in, the biting chill of the cool night air on her soaked fur, and any single though that could have crossed her mind.
But she could still hear.
She heard the quieted grumblings of the drunken men, the slams of their car doors, and the wheels on the pavement as they left. She heard the opening of another, nearer door and the sound of footsteps coming closer. A soft voice said something she couldn’t understand when the steps stopped, and then her hearing faded away to join her other senses in unconsciousness. When she woke up again, she was lying in her usual resting place in the sun in her owner’s house. She sat up slowly, stiffly, feeling the warm sun on her fur. Something was off, but she couldn’t place what it was. Then the events of the night - however many nights ago it was - came rushing back. She twisted and stared down at her hind-leg, or rather, where her hind-leg should have been. Her hip and the right side of her hindquarters were shaved and a line of stitches ran along where the limb should have been attached to her body. A shiver ran down her spine as the realization that her leg was gone hit her, but determination also flared inside her. She pushed herself onto the unsteady support of her other three legs and stepped forward. She fell, took a breath, and stood up once more. It took her a month before she regained most of her previous grace. Her walk was more of a hopping step, but she still had her speed and agility in her three remaining legs, and her only real disadvantage was leaping down off high places, as she would usually lose her balance upon landing. Most of what fur had been shaved had re-grown as well, though it still wasn’t as thick as the rest of her pelt.
It was then that she left her owner’s house. She left the city as well, deciding to see what lay beyond the places she had lived all her life. And, eventually, she stumbled upon yet another city, yet another place to stay around for a while, see what kind of life she could find in the unknown but all-too-familiar streets of humans.
roleplay sample
From a Warriors site, same character if she had come across clans and joined them, posted January 24th, 2009:
The dark gray she-cat's ears flicked at the errant breeze brushing by and her mouth opened wide in a yawn, showing dangerous ivory knives before she closed it again. Cinder-rain was tired, as she had been hunting late the night before and then gone on the dawn patrol. Now she sat at the camp entrance, guarding it as she had done since she returned from her patrol, her ice blue gaze scanning the territory periodically as she sat in a warm shaft of sunlight. The warmth against her dark coat made her feel better, but she still held the same worry as the rest of her clan-mates: that the whitecough had perhaps taken too many and that they would hardly survive this leaf-bare. She may not have been clan-born, but she had lived here long enough that she acted, thought, and was treated as any other loyal DawnClanner.
Eaglestar's call startled her from her thoughts, and she turned to glance over her shoulder at the slowly gathering cats and the subdued expressions on both Eaglestar's and Ravenmire's faces. She had seen those looks as they passed her upon returning to the camp and had wondered about them but hadn't asked. Now it seemed like she'd find out.
Cinder-rain stood and stretched her back and forelegs, relishing the movement after sitting guard for so long. She turned and padded almost silently over to the Fallen Tree where her clanmates sat looking up to their leader, her pale eyes falling upon the form of Smallfeather. She had heard of the new member of DawnClan, but she had never exactly met her face-to-face. Without even really thinking about it, Cinder-rain made her way to sit beside the nervous she-cat, flashing her a friendly, comforting smile. She wanted to speak to her, but apparently that would have to wait until after the clan meeting, because almost right after she took her seat, Eaglestar spoke, and her eyes turned to him.
Eaglestar's call startled her from her thoughts, and she turned to glance over her shoulder at the slowly gathering cats and the subdued expressions on both Eaglestar's and Ravenmire's faces. She had seen those looks as they passed her upon returning to the camp and had wondered about them but hadn't asked. Now it seemed like she'd find out.
Cinder-rain stood and stretched her back and forelegs, relishing the movement after sitting guard for so long. She turned and padded almost silently over to the Fallen Tree where her clanmates sat looking up to their leader, her pale eyes falling upon the form of Smallfeather. She had heard of the new member of DawnClan, but she had never exactly met her face-to-face. Without even really thinking about it, Cinder-rain made her way to sit beside the nervous she-cat, flashing her a friendly, comforting smile. She wanted to speak to her, but apparently that would have to wait until after the clan meeting, because almost right after she took her seat, Eaglestar spoke, and her eyes turned to him.
From a Twilight site, much more recent, posted August 23rd, 2010:
Liz was bored. Again. The small little town of Forks had very little to offer someone like her. Great scenery, sure, but even though she tended to like the forests and mountains, she hardly wanted to spend all her time out there. She needed people around her – when she wasn’t thirsty. Because if she was thirsty, well, that could be a little disastrous for all involved. So she tended to feed before heading into town, and usually the most crowded places in town. Crowds meant people, and meant possibly meeting someone interesting – or just some way to pass the time. That was all she was here for, to pass away her little eternity doing whatever she wanted. And this was what she wanted right now, so she would take it. Perhaps in a few years or centuries it would get old, she had only been immortal for seventeen years, and she had plenty more. If she ever wanted to change her mind about how she lived, she could. As it was, she saw absolutely nothing wrong with spending her life as a ‘party girl,’ nor did she see anything wrong with hanging around in this small town. She had traveled so far for her entire immortal life, so if she wanted to just stay here for the time being she could.
Now, why did she want to stay here? In this silly little small town in the middle of nowhere, Washington? There was no answer to that, at least none that she would admit to consciously. But while she was still around here (and she wasn’t planning on leaving anytime soon), she would keep an eye out for places besides the local night club that she could try to find something interesting to do. She just so happened to decide to check out the lovely little ‘Casino Royale’ in the nearby Port Angeles. She hadn’t mentioned to anyone she knew where she was going – but there wasn’t really anyone that would care about her disappearing for the day. Perhaps Edmond, but he would live. There was a reason they weren’t exclusive or anything. Neither one of them seemed very good at staying to one relationship – and it was a very good thing she didn’t let herself care. She had already let her care too much about someone before, and look where that had gotten her… Nope, never mind, back the topic goes to her little trip.
Now, an important question when one is going to a casino: did she have money? No, she didn’t have much use for it, she didn’t have to eat and you would be amazed what little things could just, oh I don’t know, just disappear of store shelves. When she wanted something, she either ‘found’ the money for it, or found other ways to get it. You’d be surprised how many people would trust the little vixen – perhaps her short stature actually helped in that respect. She was so liiittle, what trouble could she cause? Oh, you’d be surprised. Like the present, or, well, recent past. Did she have money? No. Did that handsome young man she had caught glancing after her as she passed by? Oh yes, he must have been some rich little heir to some family fortune or something, considering the cash and cards he had had stuffed in his pockets. Well, operative word there being had. He had also had nice warm blood pumping through those veins of his. Now, she hadn’t been starving or anything, but she couldn’t pass up the chance. All it had taken was a glance over her bare shoulder, that mischievous grin gracing her darkened lips, and he was following her like a little lost puppy.
And now she slipped through the crowd again, her now bright scarlet eyes glancing from one betting game to another, slipping across the faces of those she passed giving hardly anyone a second glance. No one could possibly guess from her casual manner that because of her that handsome young boy would be found by some janitor or unlucky patron drained of blood and pockets empty of cash and cards (which she would ditch after tonight, no need to let things like paper trails messing with her lovely little worry-free life) in the far corner of one of the bathroom stalls. Whoops. Oh well. No one would suspect her, and she’d be long gone by then anyways. Of course that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to hang around and have a bit of fun first. That was why she was here, after all – and she had money to burn, resting nicely her that little black purse she swung lightly in her hand.
And oh look, there was the bar. Alcohol would be lovely along with the lingering taste of that warm blood on her lips.
ATTIRE