is an 9 year old warriors role-playing site, set more or less in the traditional old forest. From offering the four Clans to former Sky and Tribe cats, chances are you can roleplay almost any character you like here. Ranging from beginner to advanced, with lots of intermediate, we have a role-playing school that can help you with anything from mechanics to length. WF is basically the perfect place for site events and plots, all of which you can jump into as soon as you finish your character. For any further questions, please feel free to ask around the cbox (we're overly friendly) or ask the staff!
Galileo sat in this she-cat's presence, trying his hardest to be disgruntled and irritated at her being there but the fact of the matter was that Celeste was actually calming. She oozed peace and peacefulness of heart, mind, body, and soul. He couldn't help but enjoy that about her, but he'd have to be run over by a twoleg monster several times before he would have admitted that. He had been staring off past her into the setting sun on the horizon for a while before she asked him about the weather.
He flicked his fluffy tail, acknowledging that he had heard her. He was just about to respond and agree when she hauled off jabbering again--something about how she didn't actually really enjoy hunting and something about the kittypet life. He had known the life of a kittypet for a short time, but the desire for freedom that Celeste was describing was something they shared, and it was the main reason why he had left his kittypet home, amongst others.
"I was a kittypet once, for a couple moons at most. That is actually where I got this name that you so like. They decided to call me that on the first day they took me in. 'N seeing as I didn't want to associate with Clan life any longer, I decided to keep it around instead of my apprentice name--even after I left them."
words: 234 muse: shit soundtrack: the into the wild soundtrack by eddie vedder tagged:chill other:
(c) shay and swift <3
galileo . m . loner
morningstorm. f . warrior . wc
smokedancer . f . meddy . tc
leopardnose . f . warrior . rc
w i s h ♪ not sure if your post above is wip so if it is ignore this completely u__u but we require a minimum of 100 words every rp post, so if you could just edit what you've written to match that word count, that would be great! <3 (i'll delete this later no worries)
it seemed like the summer couldn't possibly be any hotter, even if it tried. fastpaw stared across the river at the thick trees of thunderclan's territory, wondering about the shade they must provide. sure, riverclan had trees of their own, but they were much more sparse. the river was where everything came together, and the river was where she was now. the tabby she-cat lay lazily on her side, body fully outstretched along the riverbank. every once in a while a small wave would pass by, splashing her pelt with refreshingly cool droplets of water as she stared into the clear water. she'd seen a couple of small minnows dart by, but hadn't bothered to try and catch them. she'd only so much as lifted a paw to trace it across the surface of the river, causing tiny ripples before rubbing her cool, wet paw along her forehead. the mixture of boredom and heat wasn't suiting fastpaw at all, but as was often the case, she just had to leave camp. being one of nine siblings was messy business. sure, the she-cat loved each of her siblings, but her life felt a little too... claustrophobic.
so, there she was. lazily splashing herself with river water, staring across empty space into thunderclan's territory. fastpaw often wondered what went on in that forest when she passed along the border during patrols. she knew that there was hostility between them and her clan, but as an apprentice, she wasn't exactly privy to all of the details. none of that really mattered though. as long as no harm came to riverclan, she didn't mind. let thunderclan be thunderclan, she thought to herself, unless they break the warrior code and hurt my clan. then i'll snap their necks. the she-cat laughed out loud at the thought. no, she'd probably never snap a neck, but she was fiercely loyal to her clan. nothing would harm them on her watch.
as fastpaw stared into the river, she contemplated letting herself just... roll in. she could go for one little swim... who would it hurt? the river was perfectly safe this time of year, and she was a good swimmer. but she knew she was supposed to train later that day, and she didn't suppose heatherstar would appreciate her showing up sopping wet with muddy paws. the she-cat liked to brag about having the clan leader as her mentor, but in order to do so, she knew she had to be the best apprentice she could be. letting out an audible groan, the she-cat rolled over and sat up. "come ooonnnn, what is there to do around h-" pausing mid-sentence, fastpaw noticed a familiar face nearby; morningpaw. something she'd thought earlier came to mind as she looked at her fellow apprentice. unless they break the warrior code and hurt my clan. then i'll snap their necks. fastpaw shook her head, trying to free her mind of the thought. she knew morningpaw was half-clan, and she knew that was wrong, and she knew that she didn't trust the apprentice. she also knew that she wouldn't hurt her, because she was, by technicality, a clanmate. but that didn't mean she had to be friendly.
she smirked too. after fastpaw ran to the river, she put her nose in the air, paws on the ground to hunt the forest of all its prey. many many scent trails later, snowpaw returned to an enormous pile of trout, minnows, mice, birds, and even a few rabbits and frogs. she waited for fastpaw to return
fall chuckled. "sorry to disappoint you but me and oak aren't lovebirds. just partners in crime." he felt himself smile. "i was actually hoping you'd stay awhile." he frowned a bit. news of his family wasn't the only thing he wanted. he wanted companionship from someone other than oak. as much as he loved her. "but if you're in a hurry, can you tell me one thing before you leave? is there any -er news about the clans? new deaths or new warriors or new kits?" he tried to be as vague as possible, not mentioning their names because of the possibility of swiftfang finding out he was alive. "however, if you'd rather not answer those questions but stay, please do stay."
"Rainy City is a fictional town near Seattle, Washington. It boasts a small population, but a large majority of the people here are under the age of eighteen and unlike in many small towns, most of the youth look like something out of a punk rock music video or a "how not to dress" in most other high schools."
Blasphemy is a place where people that identify themselves as "emo," "scene," "goth," "punk," or other similar terms can bring their characters and meet new friends. Though anyone is welcome, Blasphemy will strive to be more than an RP forum for its members.
"it is a nice time of day, isn't it?" she said with a smile, turning her head into what was the slightest of breezes. it had been a hot summer so far, and though the heat carried into the later parts of the day, it wasn't uncommon to catch an occasional gust of wind or pass a patch of shade. the temperature wasn't unbearable, and celeste was grateful for that. the she-cat closed her eyes and took in a deep breath of fresh air, then turned back to galileo. "you know, i've never enjoyed hunting. causing death. i know it's necessary for us to live, but there's a sadness to it all the same." she sighed, shrugging her shoulders. "sometimes my friends back home, they offer me kittypet food. they wonder why i don't let the twolegs take me in, to live a happier, easier life. it might be easier, yes, but i wouldn't be happier cooped up in a box every day. the reason i'm still out here is because i love the freedom. i love the possibilities; the places to go, the faces to see... don't you agree, galileo?" her voice trailed off at the end as she seemed to drift off, her mind in some other place. to celeste, the world was a beautiful place full of wonder and love. she could tell that galileo saw things differently, but she hoped that she could change his mind. "i like your name, galileo. what does it mean?"
>> hello mtv and welcome to my crib sh*t post ~leppy~
Nobody had expected Whiplash to step up and volunteer to mentor Morningpaw, everyone's understanding of his traditional values thrown into disarray at the untraditional apprentice. Morningpaw's disability might have been enough - Whiplash had always produced quality warriors, and his training was hardly fit for somebody who struggled in a major kind of capacity - but her half-Clan status, most cats thought, would have sealed the deal. To his credit, Whiplash ignored all of that (though he was aware of it; privately a sensationalist, he took a smug satisfaction in the whispers that followed him around camp in the lieu of the announcement) and focused instead on refining his training methods to take into account Morningpaw's leg and her body type. She was hardly the first RiverClan to be more wind than water, and she certainly wasn't the first to go around three-legged, but she was one of the very few in all the forest who had to deal with both. There was a challenging aspect to training her that Whiplash was thoroughly anticipating. He always had a keen investment in the apprentices that he mentored, more often than not warranting loud and nightly complaints in the apprentices' den as his trainee divested themselves of the daily impossibility of Whiplash's tasks, but Whiplash only ever pushed them as far as he knew they could go. If their ideas differed from him on how much that was, well, that was hardly his fault.
His interest in Morningpaw was keener than most, for the exact same reason that had had most RiverClanners shocked he had agreed to train her in the first place. Heatherstar would have never asked Whiplash of her own accord, certain of the answer (even Cindersmoke was more likely), so Whiplash knew he had to volunteer - and did it willingly. Morningpaw might have been half-Clan, with siblings and a father in WindClan, but Whiplash had done his research. When Soundwave had returned to RiverClan, an act that he personally greeted with hostility and unspoken disapproval, he had been a lot less disapproving of the tough little she-cat that followed her mother, face proud even as it was nervous. He had paid more attention to Morningpaw than Soundwave during that return, and it was an attention that had him resolved, as he noted the determination that Morningpaw approached every task she was set or game that she played, to mentor her when she came of age. Despite the trainwreck that was her parentage, there was a lot of potential in Morningpaw, and Whiplash considered himself a bit of a cultivator of potential. If he had never spoken to the apprentice before on his own time, it was both an accident and on purpose - Morningpaw was almost never seen without the presence of Soundwave lurking nearby, and there was no love lost between the two warriors. Whiplash had never spoken to the she-cat until the day of Morningpaw's apprenticeship, and that was only out of necessity. Had Fallenflight defected from WindClan to be with his queen, Whiplash would have treated him the exact same way.
The accident part was pure self-centeredness on his part. Whiplash wasn't big on displaying what he felt were obvious sentiments (except in the case of a lady he loved, otherwise known as a time when all bets were off and he was so affectionate he was cloying), and his interest in Morningpaw's (kit's, then) advancement into warriorhood was clearly one of those sentiments. He ignored her because it never occurred to him that she'd receive any other mentor than he; he ignored her because it never occurred to him that she had no idea of the exact same. Since Whiplash was such an open book, and all. He had certainly been mildly shocked at her own obvious dumbstruck self during the apprentice ceremony, since he thought it was a lot more of a reaction than was warranted for something that could have been seen coming a mile away, but he relented a little later when pressed and admitted that, alright, he could see where the surprise had come from. Now, as he headed towards the river with purpose in his step and a serious look in his eye that any apprentice (or warrior, for that matter) had come to dread, at least when it was directed towards them, Whiplash wondered if Morningpaw would still be shocked or if she would have gotten over it by now.
He spotted her waiting at the river, right where they had agreed, and nodded in approval at her promptness. That was always one of the things he looked for in an apprentice - punctuality - and either apprentices got it right the first time, or they never made the mistake again. Whiplash was quite big on punctuality. The day he'd be late himself would be the day the world was ending, or something or a similar catastrophic nature. "Good morning," he called, disturbing a few odd cicadas; he batted them away with faint annoyance. She was sitting on a rock, her back to him, and he could see the way her paw skimmed the surface of the water. From here, the fish just beneath the surface weren't visible, but he could guess at her thoughts. Her stature made fishing - and swimming - difficult, and Whiplash had spent a whole day previous scoping out this very part of the river, checking the force of the current, the force of the undertow, the numbers of fish, the rocks and debris that rose out of the water like glossy sentinels (or something less elegant). Starting with the most integral part of a RiverClan cats' identity would be a good way to establish her place in the Clan. If there was a certain ulterior motive to that, he didn't acknowledge it. He waited until she had turned around before he spoke. "How are you?" he said, with a genteel kind of nod; he wasn't smiling, but she'd soon find that was normal and rarely meant disapproval (even if it was hard to see).
He can pinpoint the exact moment when the fight goes out of her, when she gives in to his (admittedly stubborn) orders. The lack of elation he felt surprised him. He would have liked to feel triumphant about his victory over the she-cat who had offered no explanation when she betrayed everything he had ever known about her, but all he felt was dissatisfied. It wasn't supposed to be like this; not now, not ever. Instead, as her shoulders sank and exhaustion that went soul-deep crossed her eyes, he realized he had been half expecting (half hoping) for her to run. He would have given chase, of course, but the old Cascade would have never given up without a proper fight. In the past, their fights had used to last days and were the things of legend, each refusing to back down simply on the principle of the thing. Whiplash had always given in eventually, of course - the deprivation of Cascade from his life was more punishment than it was worth, and he was always willing to give up things for those he loved - but only after it had crossed a point where neither of them would lose face. This, though - this had been nothing.
"Why did you come back?" he asked, refusing to fall to the bait of her sneer, her spitted rhetorical question, and falling instead for the way her fur brushed against his as she passed. There's no electricity - disillusion piling on disillusion, and Whiplash had never imagined their reunion would be like this - but the monster made of confusion and bitterness reared its ugly head and roared. The question itself had been impulsive; the follow-up was not. "You can't possibly have mistaken where you were going," he continued, falling in precisely four steps behind her - close enough to control, but an impossible gap for touch. "You aren't possibly that stupid." If there was a childlike kick to his words, he resolutely ignored it. "You wanted to be caught?" It was frustrating that he was no better at reading her than he had been before, though he would have liked to pretend otherwise. Certainly the thinness of her body made it easier to see her flinches, to see her tensing, but that could mean nothing and anything, and those were certainties that Whiplash made a point of detesting. They were so tragically generalizing. "From what you say, both you and I were better off when you stayed far away. RiverClan was better off. So why the selfishness now?"
The outburst was said in a leveled voice, but there was no mistaking the frustration behind it. She had already deprived him of a victory; if she was finding closure in that, he certainly wasn't. He had always accepted inferiority to Cascadestar when she was leader of the Clan, an inferiority that dictated he walk behind her, and now they were on even standing he found no clues as to how he should behave. An unbidden thought crossed his mind - if Cottonwhisker were to return, would it be like this? And though he had never dwelled on the deputy more than he had to, since it was almost certain that she was dead and that hurt in its own way, he found himself fervently hoping that if she ever came back, it wouldn't be like this. "The Cascadestar I knew would have never so inconvenienced the things she cared about in this way." He didn't realize what he had implied, too caught up in his own thoughts. Did Whiplash still believe she cared about him? That was hard to say. His expectations for her were being shattered with a horrific, cruel precision. It would have certainly stroked his ego if the answer was yes, but at the same time, maybe it was better not to know.
cicadas screamed in her ears and the lonely croak of a frog sounded from not too far away, hidden in the shallow water and the reeds. the marshes were so full of life during the summer. what really fascinated morningpaw was the river and all the life it sported. as pond skimmers skated across calm surfaces she sat on a rock jutting out from the river's edge, watching the silver shapes of small fish hang suspended in the water in the shade. she easily could have stretched out a paw to the water's surface, but refrained from doing so knowing at the disturbance the fish would scatter and she would lose the pretty sight. the heat wasn't unbearable, but it made the cooling waters of the river a more preferable option, especially to the riverclan cats who felt perfectly at home wrapped in the water. her mother was the same of course, and she'd often watched in envy as the older shecat disappeared beneath the surface and came up, one large fish or another trapped in her jaws. morningpaw wished to be that skilled and that free in the water in a way she couldn't be on land.
her disability had never bothered her, she had learned not to long for the impossible for it just left an empty feeling inside. her mother already worried about it enough for the both of them. by desiring something that could never come true morning found herself unable to work towards what could. many cats had expected her to become a medicine cat, a role often left for those unable to become warriors, she'd always wanted to try at least, to be like her parents and sibling, to prove that she could just as easily choose her own future as any other apprentice, and that one change did not decide her life. she didn't want to let her leg rule her.
morningpaw had assumed no cat would want to train her other than her mother or uncle. it seemed like such an easy decision to settle with them. they would have been wonderful mentors surely, but she didn't want to be treated as a something fragile and easily broken. she figured not only being physically challenged from other apprentices but also her halfclan heritage would shrink the list of willing mentors. so, hearing that someone eager had stepped up had shocked her. to hear it was whiplash shocked her even more. at her apprentice ceremony he'd intimidated her. this was a cat she had only heard of in passing and seen across camp. there had never been any direct interaction. she felt like he didn't look ta her like the other cats did. like she was broken or inferior. he didn't give off that vibe. she found him hard to read as well, which gave her mild anxiety. her mother had wanted to accompany her for this first actual meeting, but morningpaw had assured soundwave that she was no longer a helpless kit. her mother seemed unconvinced, but she'd stayed behind either way.
she was both excited and nervous, her stomach tumbled around at the thought of her first training session with a cat she'd shared few words with, a cat she knew very little about, only what her mother could give her, and her mother herself had said she hadn't expected whiplash to take her on either. it was all very strange to the gray pointed cat. she focused more on the silver flashes of the fish, slightly tempted to reach and try to hook one, but knowing that would escape the moment her claws broke the water. she shared her mother's small paws and likely didn't have the strength or foundation to pull a large fish from the water. it was more likely she'd be dragged in by the fish, and with only the few swimming lessons from her mother morningpaw didn't know if she could get back out. she'd never been in deep water before.
 DELAWARE ooc: i think this is my first post with her ever, still gotta find my rhythm x3
The jingling of the bell made Tamarix relax in relief, stress she didn't even know she was capable of having seeping out of her with the knowledge that Margot was nearby. Even though Tamarix had technically been in this place for - she hesitated, unsure of the exact amount of time - she hadn't gotten any chance to observe her surroundings in much detail. Or any detail, really, though she had vivid and swirling memories of waking up and trying to struggle her way out of the house. Margot had been there to stop her, and Tamarix was grateful. Now, with her mind considerably more lucid, the apprentice was aware that even in her current state, making it to the end of the street would be an accomplishment. Lifting her head to look for Margot, she watched the kittypet approach her at a trot, concern in her eyes. Tamarix wasn't sure what she had told Margot about her predicament during the hazy moments of consciousness, but now, searching the she-cat's expression, the apprentice let out a little sigh. Margot knew. Tamarix must have told her at some point, and abruptly, the apprentice felt like crying. "Just water, please," she said, meek and polite as she fought back the lump in her throat.
The difference between the Tamarix who had first met Margot and the Tamarix now could not have been more striking. Taking a few miserable laps of water from the bowl (it tasted odd - like nothing, or something metallic, maybe - Tamarix was used to having water that was flavored like the city), she withdrew after a few seconds, not quite meeting Margot's gaze. "You know?" she asked, more a rhetorical question than anything, but it felt like she had to speak - to say something."About my-" she had to stop and swallow. "-my dad." It was still surreal, like words which had been rehearsed for years but were only being said on stage now. Once she started, though, she found she couldn't stop, even though it hurt to speak. "You probably want to know what happened." She was keenly aware that Margot probably didn't care, and she felt oddly embarrassed that she couldn't seem to stop herself from unloading onto the kittypet. Tamarix's true method of working through something was talking; while she preferred internalization, since true intellectuals kept their thoughts to themselves, moments like these warranted a stripping of all pretenses. "You might know some already... I don't know how much travels. But. Um." Another swallow as she suddenly had a flashback to that terrible morning, when everything had seemed fine and then Vivian had dragged herself through the doors and it hadn't."We were attacked by rogues."
It all came out now, a vomiting of painful experience that was spoken mostly in horror, Tamarix's revulsion at the killing and the blood making itself clear in her voice. Her father's death was the climax, a reality that caused Tamarix's voice to break into a million pieces, and she hid her face in the blankets around her, suddenly overcome. The blankets smelled fresh and soothing despite Tamarix's injuries; some part of her had expected them, had wanted them, to smell dirty and stale. It would have fit her much better, she thought bitterly - misery loves company, and all. "That's why I was attacked," she mumbled. "There's obviously no rogues around camp now, we chased them all off-" a touch of pride there "-but not in the east side of town. As soon as they realized I was from BloodClan they..." But that horrible hunt, that horrible chase, was something she was not prepared to relive; it was too recent, and the wounds still too painful, to even bear thinking about. And she had been so cocky. That was one of the most painful parts, pride that tumbled down into a instinctual animal panic as soon as she had seen the rogues. Her fear scent had been tremendous; half the reason they had even got near enough to smell the BloodClan on her, she knew, was because she had been riveted to the spot with fear.