Post by Sásk¦á on May 8, 2011 19:56:57 GMT -6
Name;; Nocturne
Clan;; Occult
Rank;; Follower
Gender;; Tom
Age;; 15 Moons
Physical Description;;
Nocturne is a scrawny, but muscular, tall black tom. He is heavier than he looks. His fur is short, thick, and unkempt; it sticks up in some places, and is always dirty. His right ear is torn, while his left ear has only one nick in it. His right shoulder is badly scarred where he was clawed, and his right eye has a long, ugly diagonal scar with smaller scars from where he was scratched. It's a miracle that he did not lose that eye, and he can still see out of it just fine. His legs are powerful and long, and his paws are big. His tail is long and thin. He is missing a few whiskers.
Picture;;
Personality;;
Nocturne is a troubled tom. He is aggressive and resilient, never backing down from a fight. He can take quite a lot of punishment before simply collapsing. He will kill his opponent if he has to. He is stubborn and determined; he will not rest until he has completed his mission. He is anti-social, and prefers to be alone. He has a hard time trusting anyone, and keeps his heart carefully guarded. He can be harsh and cold. He acts like he can handle everything on his own, and insists that he is fine; the truth is, though, that he is a lonely and melancholy individual. Buried deep within him is a longing to be loved and cared about; he doesn't think it is possible for anyone to love a monster like him. He is capable of mercy and kindness, and has a soft spot for females and kits. There is a war going on inside him; a part of him knows that the crimes that he and Blazepelt's gang have committed are wrong, and he is disgusted at himself and what he has done. The other side of him, though, does not care that he has done wrong; as long as he can fulfill his own desires, he is fine. Something has got to give; sooner or later, one side must emerge victorious. He cannot continue to live this way, for his conflicting natures are ripping him apart on the inside.
History;;
Nocturne was born to a small family of loners; his mother was Sheila, and his father was Snake. The time spent with his family was the best two moons of his life. That was the last time he was around others that cared about him; a time when he knew what it was like to have someone to love, and to be loved. The day he was taken away from his family was the day when his heart broke. He had to watch as his family were killed by Oleander and the rogues that were with him. Before his father was killed, Snake killed one of the rogues and gave Oleander a parting gift in the form of a scar across the bridge of his nose. After Sheila was struck down by one of the rogues, the little black kit ran to his mother's side, pleading for her to get up. When he spotted Oleander approaching him, he clung onto his mother's shoulder for dear life, yowling frantically for her to get up and save him. The orange tabby tom pried him roughly off of his dead mother and carried him away, the other rogues following.
When they reached their campsite, he placed Nocturne at his paws. Growling with rage, the small kit turned on the larger cat, leaping onto one of the orange tabby's enormous paws. He gave it his all, biting and clawing with the ferocity of a miniature tiger. The older tom didn't fight back; he just watched with a strange light in his dark blue eyes. The kit finally stopped, but only because he was too exhausted to continue. Oleander chuckled at how fiesty the little kit was; how he had fought without fear. He picked him up and brought him to the leader, Blazepelt. He asked for her permission to train him when he was old enough, and his request was accepted. The poor kit had no idea of what was in store for him in the future.
Oleander was the one who raised Nocturne, much to the little kit's disliking. He was trained to be an assassin; the ultimate killing machine. His training was brutal; he and his mentor battled with claws unsheathed. He had to learn how to hold his own against multiple opponents. Nocturne and Oleander butted heads often; the younger tom was rebellious and defiant, and hated being pushed around by the one who helped destroy his family. Whenever he stepped out of line or disobeyed an order, his mentor would beat him into submission. With how stubborn Nocturne was, this happened often. One day, when he was on a patrol, he sniffed out an intruder hiding in the bushes. Signaling with his long, scraggly tail for the others to remain silent, the apprentice crept forward slowly. When he was within striking distance, he pounced, landing on the cat hiding in the foliage. After a brief tussle, the tom dragged the struggling trespasser out into the open. The rest of the patrol surrounded them so it could not escape. When he got a good look at this strange cat, he realized that it was a gray tabby female that was about his age. He let go of her, and she cowered before them, begging them to spare her. The rogues sneered and laughed at the frightened she-cat. Oleander, who was a part of the patrol, commanded Nocturne to kill this "worthless lump of fur". He hesitated, uncertainty in his blue and green eyes; he had never killed anyone before. All eyes were on him; they were waiting for him to kill his first victim. His heart was beating so fast that it felt like it would burst from his chest. He didn't want to do this; everything about this was wrong. He must though, otherwise his mentor would beat him in front of everyone. He swallowed nervously and grit his teeth, then he slowly moved toward the trembling she-cat. Growling, he pinned her down and raised his paw to slit her throat. He looked into her frightened amber eyes, which were silently pleading to him for mercy. Those eyes reminded him of his mother's, except those had been green; she had looked exactly the same way before she had died. He lowered his paw, which was shaking, and looked away. He couldn't do this! He released her and argued with his mentor, saying that the she-cat wasn't harming anyone and that they should let her go. He would not kill her; this was wrong!
Oleander was furious; he said that either Nocturne kills her, or he will. The black tom would not back down, and the orange tabby decided to teach him a lesson. He tackled the younger tom and pinned him down. Nocturne struggled, but was not yet strong enough to take on the more experienced tom. He ordered one of the rogues to kill the intruder; this sent the apprentice into an angry, frightened frenzy. He couldn't let them kill her! He slashed at Oleander blindly, trying to dislodge him so he could save the she-cat. The tom slashed at his right eye, leaving long, bloody scars. He beat his apprentice, telling him that he should learn his place and obey his master. When he was done, the she-cat had been killed, and Nocturne was only half conscious. Guilt and agony coursed through him; he had failed! The she-cat was dead! After the patrol disposed of the body, he was taken to the leader, who decided his punishment. That night, he had nightmares about his family and the she-cat's death. He cried and mewed in his sleep because no matter how hard he had tried in the dream, he could not save any of them.
He grew up to be a depressed and angry warrior. He knew that Oleander was training him to become strong enough to help him kill the leader, Blazepelt, but he didn't care. As long as he was allowed to live, and to have some time to himself, he was fine. He could now kill and feel little remorse for his actions. No one in the group cared about him; the feeling was mutual. He feels trapped in this gang, and secretly wishes for a life of peace and solitude. He had all but given up on that dream, though. A monster like him didn't deserve to be happy, anyway. He struggles with two conflicting natures. One side of him hates himself and the crimes that he has committed, while the other side is selfish, cold, and uncaring about the suffering he has caused. He'd like to have at least one person to talk to; one that would actually give a rat's tail about him and his feelings. At the same time though, he trusts no one, and fiercely guards his heart. Something has got to give, before these conflicting sides rip him apart. The good and evil inside of him cannot coexist peacefully; in the end, one must triumph over the other. He must soon prove who he really is, and reveal his true colors at last. And with that, He found Ocher and The Occult. His true home at last.
Clan;; Occult
Rank;; Follower
Gender;; Tom
Age;; 15 Moons
Physical Description;;
Nocturne is a scrawny, but muscular, tall black tom. He is heavier than he looks. His fur is short, thick, and unkempt; it sticks up in some places, and is always dirty. His right ear is torn, while his left ear has only one nick in it. His right shoulder is badly scarred where he was clawed, and his right eye has a long, ugly diagonal scar with smaller scars from where he was scratched. It's a miracle that he did not lose that eye, and he can still see out of it just fine. His legs are powerful and long, and his paws are big. His tail is long and thin. He is missing a few whiskers.
Picture;;
Personality;;
Nocturne is a troubled tom. He is aggressive and resilient, never backing down from a fight. He can take quite a lot of punishment before simply collapsing. He will kill his opponent if he has to. He is stubborn and determined; he will not rest until he has completed his mission. He is anti-social, and prefers to be alone. He has a hard time trusting anyone, and keeps his heart carefully guarded. He can be harsh and cold. He acts like he can handle everything on his own, and insists that he is fine; the truth is, though, that he is a lonely and melancholy individual. Buried deep within him is a longing to be loved and cared about; he doesn't think it is possible for anyone to love a monster like him. He is capable of mercy and kindness, and has a soft spot for females and kits. There is a war going on inside him; a part of him knows that the crimes that he and Blazepelt's gang have committed are wrong, and he is disgusted at himself and what he has done. The other side of him, though, does not care that he has done wrong; as long as he can fulfill his own desires, he is fine. Something has got to give; sooner or later, one side must emerge victorious. He cannot continue to live this way, for his conflicting natures are ripping him apart on the inside.
History;;
Nocturne was born to a small family of loners; his mother was Sheila, and his father was Snake. The time spent with his family was the best two moons of his life. That was the last time he was around others that cared about him; a time when he knew what it was like to have someone to love, and to be loved. The day he was taken away from his family was the day when his heart broke. He had to watch as his family were killed by Oleander and the rogues that were with him. Before his father was killed, Snake killed one of the rogues and gave Oleander a parting gift in the form of a scar across the bridge of his nose. After Sheila was struck down by one of the rogues, the little black kit ran to his mother's side, pleading for her to get up. When he spotted Oleander approaching him, he clung onto his mother's shoulder for dear life, yowling frantically for her to get up and save him. The orange tabby tom pried him roughly off of his dead mother and carried him away, the other rogues following.
When they reached their campsite, he placed Nocturne at his paws. Growling with rage, the small kit turned on the larger cat, leaping onto one of the orange tabby's enormous paws. He gave it his all, biting and clawing with the ferocity of a miniature tiger. The older tom didn't fight back; he just watched with a strange light in his dark blue eyes. The kit finally stopped, but only because he was too exhausted to continue. Oleander chuckled at how fiesty the little kit was; how he had fought without fear. He picked him up and brought him to the leader, Blazepelt. He asked for her permission to train him when he was old enough, and his request was accepted. The poor kit had no idea of what was in store for him in the future.
Oleander was the one who raised Nocturne, much to the little kit's disliking. He was trained to be an assassin; the ultimate killing machine. His training was brutal; he and his mentor battled with claws unsheathed. He had to learn how to hold his own against multiple opponents. Nocturne and Oleander butted heads often; the younger tom was rebellious and defiant, and hated being pushed around by the one who helped destroy his family. Whenever he stepped out of line or disobeyed an order, his mentor would beat him into submission. With how stubborn Nocturne was, this happened often. One day, when he was on a patrol, he sniffed out an intruder hiding in the bushes. Signaling with his long, scraggly tail for the others to remain silent, the apprentice crept forward slowly. When he was within striking distance, he pounced, landing on the cat hiding in the foliage. After a brief tussle, the tom dragged the struggling trespasser out into the open. The rest of the patrol surrounded them so it could not escape. When he got a good look at this strange cat, he realized that it was a gray tabby female that was about his age. He let go of her, and she cowered before them, begging them to spare her. The rogues sneered and laughed at the frightened she-cat. Oleander, who was a part of the patrol, commanded Nocturne to kill this "worthless lump of fur". He hesitated, uncertainty in his blue and green eyes; he had never killed anyone before. All eyes were on him; they were waiting for him to kill his first victim. His heart was beating so fast that it felt like it would burst from his chest. He didn't want to do this; everything about this was wrong. He must though, otherwise his mentor would beat him in front of everyone. He swallowed nervously and grit his teeth, then he slowly moved toward the trembling she-cat. Growling, he pinned her down and raised his paw to slit her throat. He looked into her frightened amber eyes, which were silently pleading to him for mercy. Those eyes reminded him of his mother's, except those had been green; she had looked exactly the same way before she had died. He lowered his paw, which was shaking, and looked away. He couldn't do this! He released her and argued with his mentor, saying that the she-cat wasn't harming anyone and that they should let her go. He would not kill her; this was wrong!
Oleander was furious; he said that either Nocturne kills her, or he will. The black tom would not back down, and the orange tabby decided to teach him a lesson. He tackled the younger tom and pinned him down. Nocturne struggled, but was not yet strong enough to take on the more experienced tom. He ordered one of the rogues to kill the intruder; this sent the apprentice into an angry, frightened frenzy. He couldn't let them kill her! He slashed at Oleander blindly, trying to dislodge him so he could save the she-cat. The tom slashed at his right eye, leaving long, bloody scars. He beat his apprentice, telling him that he should learn his place and obey his master. When he was done, the she-cat had been killed, and Nocturne was only half conscious. Guilt and agony coursed through him; he had failed! The she-cat was dead! After the patrol disposed of the body, he was taken to the leader, who decided his punishment. That night, he had nightmares about his family and the she-cat's death. He cried and mewed in his sleep because no matter how hard he had tried in the dream, he could not save any of them.
He grew up to be a depressed and angry warrior. He knew that Oleander was training him to become strong enough to help him kill the leader, Blazepelt, but he didn't care. As long as he was allowed to live, and to have some time to himself, he was fine. He could now kill and feel little remorse for his actions. No one in the group cared about him; the feeling was mutual. He feels trapped in this gang, and secretly wishes for a life of peace and solitude. He had all but given up on that dream, though. A monster like him didn't deserve to be happy, anyway. He struggles with two conflicting natures. One side of him hates himself and the crimes that he has committed, while the other side is selfish, cold, and uncaring about the suffering he has caused. He'd like to have at least one person to talk to; one that would actually give a rat's tail about him and his feelings. At the same time though, he trusts no one, and fiercely guards his heart. Something has got to give, before these conflicting sides rip him apart. The good and evil inside of him cannot coexist peacefully; in the end, one must triumph over the other. He must soon prove who he really is, and reveal his true colors at last. And with that, He found Ocher and The Occult. His true home at last.
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