09-11-2011, 07:36 PM
1. Character Name: Loviere Dinabalo
2. Character Birthdate: August 14, 2009
3. Gender: Male
4. Species: 50% Canis lupus albus. 50% Canis lupus lycaon
5. Is your character a Luperci?: Yes.
6. Other 'Souls Characters: I am new.
7. How you found 'Souls?: Through the RPG-D
8. Are you joining a pack?: Hopefully, CdA.
9. If joining a pack, are you joining IC or OOC?: IC
10. Profile or three writing examples:
Profile: http://www.soulsrpg.com/ipb/memberlist.php?mode=viewprofile&u=3173
Roleplay Sample 1:
If one listened hard enough, the uneven clicks of a kitten's broken claws upon the earth could be heard speeding forward. The little kit ran quickly from the nursery, soft eyes rolling wildly in distress. She looked like nothing more than a ball of black-and-tawny fuzz, limping quickly around the camp. She cast her eyes about worriedly for any sign of her mother. Moleclaw was nowhere to be found, and the kitten was tired of coming back into the nursery to find her mother absence.
Such occurrences were happening more often now, more and more with each passing day. Tawnykit was beginning to miss sorely the warm breath of her mother, their tender heartbeats drumming as one as Moleclaw shielded her child from the cold. As the days progressed, Tawnykit could sense that her mother was becoming increasingly agitated.
The dark gold eyes of her mother now filled with sorrow whenever they were cast upon the tiny kitten. Tawnykit could not help but feel that she had done something wrong. Something was indeed terribly wrong. She awoke sometimes, late at night, and she heard the soft whispers of her mother. She had not been able to make them out, so quick and strung together as they had been.
The queen would not even play with her kitten much now, nor give her the vocabulary lessons that Tawnykit so adored. Her heartbeat picked up, humming against her chest. She felt very sick. What was this new feeling? In her three moons on the planet, she had not felt it before. She had touched it before, felt it just a bit. She had seen it in others.
But never before had it hit her so hard. There was a word for this, right on the tip of her tongue. A big word. What was it?
Miniscule legs hit the ground unevenly. She was always keeping her weight off her worst paw, making her limping ever more obvious. The paws brushed against rocks upon the ground and the risk of a fall was immense at her speed. Soft pink nostrils flared in panic as the little kit tried to sniff out her mother.
Tawnykit considered venturing out of camp. But she knew from many cats that doing such would mean certain d th for her. She was far too tiny to step even a foot outside, her mother said. As she ran circles through the camp, Tawnykit's little mind began to tick.
She was not tiny. At least, not in her mind. She felt so big. She could see herself as an adult, larger than any cat. Long black fur rippling as she raced through the musty catacombs. Brown eyes glinting savagely as she cornered her prey. She imagined her delicate claws strengthening, growing back completely. She could almost feel the utter power of a full-grown warrior flowing through her veins. She would get there one day. She would be just as good as the rest of them.
Or so she thought. So she hoped fervently, every night, every time she set eyes upon her Clanmates, each so much larger, stronger, smarter than she.
Had she not an abundance of youthful innocence, Tawnykit would perhaps be as lost as her mother.
The fragile kitten was so lost in her strange thoughts that she could not regain her footing fast enough when a small pebble presented itself in her path. Her weak paw quavered upon it and she fell, rolling tail over head into the soft fur of a warrior.
Roleplay Sample 2:
The scruffy white cat was at the back of the group, brown-green eyes taking in the sight of the massive piles of bones. The scent of old death hung in the air, so thick that she might have been able to swipe at it with a paw. But her paws were currently stuck, frozen on the ground in fear of the massive bone collection. Some of the remnants seemed to be almost larger than her.
Dustytuft did not fear death. Only what came after the dying part was what alarmed her. These bones – this was what she truly was inside, wasn’t it? Nothing but bone. Only bone remained when they left the world, or was it all? The wild-eyed she-cat did not like to believe that this would be all that remained of her. She wished to leave a more noticeable mark on her world before she went to bigger and better things.
She moved her head back and forth, the prominent tuft of gray fur between her ears as wild as a tiny mane. Her slender paws were also lightly brushed with accents of gray velvet fur. The rest of her was an almost immaculate white. Looking at herself reminded her at times of the light that carefully shone its way through the catacombs. It was this light that she strived for, this light that she had gone on this quest for. Maybe, in this strange territory, they would find even more light.
Her appetite was starving for adventure, after being cooped up for so long within the confines of the usual Clan romping ground. It was outside of those walls, those invisible boundaries, that she was in her element. Dustytuft was a free soul, a feather in the wind.
She steeled herself now, gazing upon the mountains of dirty bone. This was the next challenge, waiting for her to accept it, to tackle it. She would do so willingly, if it meant the slightest chance of finding the Light. Dusk could sit on his tail back at home forever for all she cared. She belonged in the mystery of it all. She longed to embrace it.
Dustytuft had gotten herself into the habit of imagining that her Clan-mates did not realize the real purpose of her going on this quest. In reality, she had no idea if they really believed she was coming along just to find a new place for the Clan. For all her life, she had been a rebel in every way, and unafraid of announcing such a fact to anyone who gave her a second look.
/Don’t let anyone tell you how to act, how to think, what to do, what to say, Dustykit./ The she-cat had been raised by Tornfoot, her grandmother. The elder feline had done much to influence and mold the personality and motivation of her grand-daughter. Dustytuft had been told many stories of her small family line. Independence was something she strived for. Nothing would hold her down when she got it in her mind to stand up.
I can't seem to find a third roleplay sample that I have saved. I hope that's alright.
Anyways, I'm Cactus. Pleased to be here.
2. Character Birthdate: August 14, 2009
3. Gender: Male
4. Species: 50% Canis lupus albus. 50% Canis lupus lycaon
5. Is your character a Luperci?: Yes.
6. Other 'Souls Characters: I am new.
7. How you found 'Souls?: Through the RPG-D
8. Are you joining a pack?: Hopefully, CdA.
9. If joining a pack, are you joining IC or OOC?: IC
10. Profile or three writing examples:
Profile: http://www.soulsrpg.com/ipb/memberlist.php?mode=viewprofile&u=3173
Roleplay Sample 1:
If one listened hard enough, the uneven clicks of a kitten's broken claws upon the earth could be heard speeding forward. The little kit ran quickly from the nursery, soft eyes rolling wildly in distress. She looked like nothing more than a ball of black-and-tawny fuzz, limping quickly around the camp. She cast her eyes about worriedly for any sign of her mother. Moleclaw was nowhere to be found, and the kitten was tired of coming back into the nursery to find her mother absence.
Such occurrences were happening more often now, more and more with each passing day. Tawnykit was beginning to miss sorely the warm breath of her mother, their tender heartbeats drumming as one as Moleclaw shielded her child from the cold. As the days progressed, Tawnykit could sense that her mother was becoming increasingly agitated.
The dark gold eyes of her mother now filled with sorrow whenever they were cast upon the tiny kitten. Tawnykit could not help but feel that she had done something wrong. Something was indeed terribly wrong. She awoke sometimes, late at night, and she heard the soft whispers of her mother. She had not been able to make them out, so quick and strung together as they had been.
The queen would not even play with her kitten much now, nor give her the vocabulary lessons that Tawnykit so adored. Her heartbeat picked up, humming against her chest. She felt very sick. What was this new feeling? In her three moons on the planet, she had not felt it before. She had touched it before, felt it just a bit. She had seen it in others.
But never before had it hit her so hard. There was a word for this, right on the tip of her tongue. A big word. What was it?
Miniscule legs hit the ground unevenly. She was always keeping her weight off her worst paw, making her limping ever more obvious. The paws brushed against rocks upon the ground and the risk of a fall was immense at her speed. Soft pink nostrils flared in panic as the little kit tried to sniff out her mother.
Tawnykit considered venturing out of camp. But she knew from many cats that doing such would mean certain d th for her. She was far too tiny to step even a foot outside, her mother said. As she ran circles through the camp, Tawnykit's little mind began to tick.
She was not tiny. At least, not in her mind. She felt so big. She could see herself as an adult, larger than any cat. Long black fur rippling as she raced through the musty catacombs. Brown eyes glinting savagely as she cornered her prey. She imagined her delicate claws strengthening, growing back completely. She could almost feel the utter power of a full-grown warrior flowing through her veins. She would get there one day. She would be just as good as the rest of them.
Or so she thought. So she hoped fervently, every night, every time she set eyes upon her Clanmates, each so much larger, stronger, smarter than she.
Had she not an abundance of youthful innocence, Tawnykit would perhaps be as lost as her mother.
The fragile kitten was so lost in her strange thoughts that she could not regain her footing fast enough when a small pebble presented itself in her path. Her weak paw quavered upon it and she fell, rolling tail over head into the soft fur of a warrior.
Roleplay Sample 2:
The scruffy white cat was at the back of the group, brown-green eyes taking in the sight of the massive piles of bones. The scent of old death hung in the air, so thick that she might have been able to swipe at it with a paw. But her paws were currently stuck, frozen on the ground in fear of the massive bone collection. Some of the remnants seemed to be almost larger than her.
Dustytuft did not fear death. Only what came after the dying part was what alarmed her. These bones – this was what she truly was inside, wasn’t it? Nothing but bone. Only bone remained when they left the world, or was it all? The wild-eyed she-cat did not like to believe that this would be all that remained of her. She wished to leave a more noticeable mark on her world before she went to bigger and better things.
She moved her head back and forth, the prominent tuft of gray fur between her ears as wild as a tiny mane. Her slender paws were also lightly brushed with accents of gray velvet fur. The rest of her was an almost immaculate white. Looking at herself reminded her at times of the light that carefully shone its way through the catacombs. It was this light that she strived for, this light that she had gone on this quest for. Maybe, in this strange territory, they would find even more light.
Her appetite was starving for adventure, after being cooped up for so long within the confines of the usual Clan romping ground. It was outside of those walls, those invisible boundaries, that she was in her element. Dustytuft was a free soul, a feather in the wind.
She steeled herself now, gazing upon the mountains of dirty bone. This was the next challenge, waiting for her to accept it, to tackle it. She would do so willingly, if it meant the slightest chance of finding the Light. Dusk could sit on his tail back at home forever for all she cared. She belonged in the mystery of it all. She longed to embrace it.
Dustytuft had gotten herself into the habit of imagining that her Clan-mates did not realize the real purpose of her going on this quest. In reality, she had no idea if they really believed she was coming along just to find a new place for the Clan. For all her life, she had been a rebel in every way, and unafraid of announcing such a fact to anyone who gave her a second look.
/Don’t let anyone tell you how to act, how to think, what to do, what to say, Dustykit./ The she-cat had been raised by Tornfoot, her grandmother. The elder feline had done much to influence and mold the personality and motivation of her grand-daughter. Dustytuft had been told many stories of her small family line. Independence was something she strived for. Nothing would hold her down when she got it in her mind to stand up.
I can't seem to find a third roleplay sample that I have saved. I hope that's alright.
Anyways, I'm Cactus. Pleased to be here.