Post by KIPPER. on Apr 14, 2011 14:59:53 GMT -6
<---- DARCY
tom, 36 moons.
RANK: Loner.
ALLIANCE: None.
APPEARANCE: handsome tabby and white tom with green eyes.
PERSONALITY:
Darcy is a very good humoured, playful tom - perhaps that’s where his kittypet origins show through. He likes to be the centre of attention when in a group as he’s often starved for cat companionship (other than the occasional wandering tom who very rarely get a warm reception) so he’s a very good host when he is allowed. His relaxed attitude can often be mistaken for aloofness or stupidity which nine times out of then it is and the other one time is when he is sleeping. No, he is not the smartest of toms intellectually but he can certainly hold his own and has more common sense than most even if he is slightly slow on the uptake. He is the type of cat that would tell you to avoid the barn because the rats were vicious and forget to tell you not to go around it either as there were dogs about… but he knows when things are not right and tries to make amends when he makes mistakes. It’s hard not to like him unless you’re one of those die-hard ‘I hate all non-clan things’ types. His trust is never misplaced, he may like you but not trust you as he admires certain things about different cats without being too close to them. As a cat of his position he has seen other come and go to never return but he is quite happy with this as the conversation never gets boring.
His main attribute is his charisma, he can talk a badger into handing over its kill. His energy for perusing the ladies is never-ending though he’s quite lax when it comes to wooing just one… hey! He’s a bachelor tom after all! He doesn’t have to worry about food or clan politics just whether he’s going to have a mouse or a rat for dinner. The idea of chasing a female warrior excites him but he is wary in case anything were to happen to her through his faults as he has learnt never to come between a cat and its clan through experience. As well as being a massive flirt, he is a sweetie at heart though will get defensive if you move in to his personal life too quickly. His time at the animal shelter taught him that most creatures go by appearance alone and if anyone likes him, it will be for that reason alone.
Unlike most cats, Darcy just loves surprises! It makes such a difference to his boring routine when something happens completely out of the blue. A fox attack? He’ll be the one grinning in ecstasy while you are fleeing for your lives! SO as a whole he's very friendly, curious, flirtacious and silly. He is very passionate about his home, friends and faith.
REASON FOR NAME: His first owner's wife had a thing for Pride and Prejudiced and named him after 'Mr.Darcy'. It just stuck with him.
FAMILY:
Molly, mother, unknown.
Raggedclaw, father, unknown/presumed dead.
Whereabouts/names of siblings unknown.
HISTORY:
As a kit, he had no idea of his origins and even now he is not too sure of it himself - all he knows is that he has a paw in neither world of the kittypets or of the great warriors. If you must know, Darcy was born of both kittypet and of warrior (No, not a forbidden romance) with his mother, Molly, being a kittypet living with her twolegs on a little farm and his father, Raggedpelt an exiled warrior from HillClan. Raggedpelt was not especially known amongst the Clan for being a friendly soul, he was ruthless and scheming with ambition far beyond that of a normal warrior eager to please his leader - he wanted the Clan for himself but this was ultimately to be his downfall when he plotted amongst the BoulderClan cats to help him win the territory by forceful means with promise of an extended hunting terrain for the BoulderClan warriors but it was not meant to be. BoulderClan was suspicious of him and declared violence towards him - if there was to be any victory, it would be theirs. A fight ensued and the tom returned to camp with his claws in bloody rags where he was not met by purring and love but by hatred and disgust - one of his own had ratted him out and he would pay the consequences.
The leader was lenient as he was sympathetic that Raggedpelt had lost his front claws in the fight and declared him exiled but not before giving him the new title ‘Raggedclaw’ so all would know when they saw his feet the extent of his treachery. With little free territory he was forced onto twoleg territory but unable to hunt much he was soon hungry… and vengeful. On the brink of starvation, he was met by a pretty little tabby who reeked of the two-legs and their horrible perfumes. Her name was Molly and she seemed proud by the fact that she was a kittypet. Seeing he was in distress she invited him into her home which he grudgingly accepted on the basis that he was starving to death and in time his wounds healed and without realizing he was doing it - he was adopted into the kittypet lifestyle. Molly soon found out she was expecting kits and was delighted as were her owners but as they didn’t want anymore kittens they decided it was time to call the vet for Raggedclaw. This was enough to hit home - he really was a kittypet! As disabled as he was, he would rather starve than not be a tom and with that resolute he left the house to die as a warrior. Molly was heartbroken but went on to give birth to five healthy kittens.
His earliest memories were of children looking in at his cosy basket, his mother wrapping her tail around him gently and purring with content. She loved this life yet he could not settle. When he was old enough he was given to a home with young children as a present but they quickly returned him when they realized the damage he could do. This happened three more times before they realized he wasn’t a cute kitten anymore and it would be harder to rehome him. When everything else failed they had no choice but to put him to a rescue which was possibly the worst place of his life. Day in, day out meowing helplessly behind bars while twolegs walked past you trying to decide whether you were cute enough to go home with them. After several moons of waiting he was finally given a home - expecting a soft bed and even softer food he resigned himself into a life he would never fit into… until he got there. He wasn’t to be a pet as they wanted a ratter, something that would keep the mice out of their hay barns without having to pay for pest control. It didn’t take him long as the hunger and natural instincts taught him to hunt and the fighting skills he learnt later during the odd meeting between other toms. Never did he set foot in the house and never has he wanted to. His den now is the old barn and the fields are his territory.
He didn’t meet any warrior cats until he was settled into his new home and the scent of another cat got his hackles raised. Upon meeting them, he did not see a muscular rogue nor did he see a fat kittypet - he saw a scrawny old Queen with fierce eyes and a hiss that would fear a dog. He backed down but she never did until she was sure he was not ‘from another clan’. It was this old Queen that was to enlighten him about the Clan and the great StarClan whom he had been without all his life. To him, this made sense and though he knew he would never be a warrior himself he has known now to treat them with respect.
RP EXAMPLE: You has read my posts? :3
PASSWORD: [fae edit]
