Post by twig on Dec 17, 2008 18:38:50 GMT -8
N a m e: Jasper (Jazz)
G e n d e r: tom
A g e: 21 moons
C l a n: none
R a n k: rogue
I m a g e: { click }
F a m i l y: Rufus - father (alley cat)
Petunia - mother (kittypet)
M a t e: none
K i t s: none known
C o m p a n i o n . I m a g e: none
C o m p a n i o n: none
Q u i c k . P h y s i c a l:
Scarred gray tom with dark blue eyes and peculiar kinked fur.
F u l l . P h y s i c a l:
We'll start with the eyes. Jasper's are dark blue and mischeviously expressive--it's hard to tell whether he is lying or not, because he takes even serious things with a grain of salt. They're not a common shade, which make them somewhat captivating, and he does know how to use his expressions to his advantage.
Scars cover his face and neck, nicking the top of his left ear and suggesting a life of violence.
Jasper's fur is very distinctive (or, depending on your point of view, just kind of dumb looking). He inherited his father's pelt, which is gray and kinked--almost curled. This does nothing to impair him physically, but it does make him rather memorable.
Like he needs help. The tom makes it his goal to manipulate and impose, and does a good job of both. He is charasmatic, even in appearance, and though his build is small and wiry he can talk himself to greater intimidating potential than he has. His voice is low, smooth and almost always teasing. He has a quick wit and can win verbal fights almost every time, while avoiding physical ones (good thing, too: this cat's not a fighter). Though he will threaten, he will rarely attack anyone.
P e r s o n a l i t y:
Conflicting with itself. As soon as you think one thing about Jasper, he will likely turn around completely and get you guessing again-- few get to know him to the point where they can guess what his reactions to things will be.
In most situations, for instance, he's pretty chill about whatever happens. When he does get fired up about something, however, it tends to be a very quick change, and once he gets upset about something, it's likely to bother him until he goes and does something about it.
That said, he is very lazy. Unless it's an issue that's been bothering him for a while, or that he feels responsible for (being responsible for things is a feeling that he hates), he's not likely to do a thing about it.
Jasper doesn't like arguing all that much personally, but there are two things that he does enjoy: watching other cats argue, and getting them worked up about something that he honestly doesn't care about. Or both, if that's possible. Being detached, watching drama unfold around him without having to worry about it, entertains him like trivial chores such as hunting never manage to.
There are occasions, though, when he will get wrapped up in a matter, and when that happens he's not likely to let it go. More often than not (almost always, as a matter of fact), these 'matters' have something to do with she-cats. He's got no problem with being involved with more than one at once, but things tend to go badly if he gets too far with anyone, and to his great irritation, he'll find himself unable to back out of the situation.
A lot of how he reacts to things depends on what is known and what isn't. It's true that he likes interest, likes changes in faces and places, but these things also have a great effect on him. If he's serious about something, and doesn't know where it's headed, he will get more cautious and, whether he thinks about it or not, try to backtrack into what he does know. This brings proof to the saying 'there's too much of a good thing'-- the same applies to Jasper's willingness to make a fool of himself. Having chose the lifestyle that he has, being charasmatic helps a lot, and he can laugh at himself shamelessly, putting himself under others without batting an eyelid in many situations. But if it's someone else that's poking fun at him, he doesn't find things nearly as amusing, and is likely to get mad-- only self-inflicted injuries to the pride here, please.
H i s t o r y:
Jasper was born in a twoleg city. His mother was a house cat and his father was a rogue, and when he was born his mother wanted nothing to do with him. He skipped from one surrogate mother to another until able to take care of himself, at which point he left his father's company and began travelling by himself.
He left the city for the wild for no reason other than boredom, and it's wanderlust that's kept him going ever since. More than once he has come across Clans, Tribes and Prides of cats, but he has never stayed with one group for more than a few days. This has still given him time to develop an enjoyment of she-cats (specifically, annoying them--she-cats are responsible for most of the scars across his face). He has never been in a 'real' relationship, but he has come dangerously close.
These cats have shown him many different forms of spirituality, and he is familiar with both the concept of StarClan and OtherClan, or the Place-Of-No-Stars. He has been to OtherClan in dreams and has met cats that live there, however he has never met a StarClan cat. He is neutral in terms of loyalty, neither supporting nor opposing both supernatural Clans. he does fully believe in them, but does not pray or in any other way show respect to them.
The tom has recently arrived at HorizonClan's territory and is lurking in the surrounding area. He has not yet met a cat, and has no knowledge of current events. He is also not familiar with Lex's band of rogues, though he has met similar groups of rogues before and has had negative experiences with them.
O v e r a l l:
Kind of a jerk, but altogether not too bad. Likes messing with cats and watching them argue with each other. Is a fan of she-cats. Is not inclined to do any work for anyone but himself. Charasmatic, charming and hard to read. Kind of a wimp physically, but likes to pretend that he isn't.Likes long walks on the beach and getting caught in the rain.
Also hates being underground, and loves trees and heights. Climbing is his preferred method of travel.
S a m p l e:
{character;; Lionheart}
He was down. Not down, as in he was feeling especially short (in fact, he took great pride in the fact that he was no longer a midget, as he had been for most of his life). Nor was he really below anything else-- Lionheart was down in the sense that things just didn't seem right.
They had been fine, for a while. He had gotten used to being in NorthClan, had become a warrior, and though the dogs were frightening and not at all pleasant, they had driven out the twolegs. But today, and recently, off and on, he had found himself disliking the situation with SouthClan more and more.
They had fought, his friends in SouthClan and his family in NorthClan. Actually unsheathed claws and bit and yowled and hurt each other. And as much as he had settled into not seeing the cats over there every day, he had not imagined that things could come to this so quickly. Hadn't it been Greystar who had led them through countless other small hardships? Hadn't it been the cats that were ripping each others' fur out that had once shared tongues with one another? Hadn't it been only moons ago that they had split?
But he was not angry at anyone; how could he be? He had stood up for letting the rogues help MountainClan. Of all cats, it had been he who had sided with Breezeclaw and Dewpaw and Ravenflight.
Ravenflight. This was a new topic altogether, or at least a deepened one. Lionheart had not been at the fight on the border, but rumors traveled fast in any Clan, and this one had been no exception: Ravenflight had, supposedly, almost killed Darktail. Even now, long after he had heard the news, Lionheart shuddered at the thought. He had not spoken to Ravenflight since then, partially through coincidence, as they had not been put on any patrols or hunting parties together, and partially intentionally as well. He was friends with the tom, but had begun avoiding him, almost out of habit. Not because of fear, but because of.. because of anger?
Yes, that must be it, he thought. There wasn't another word he could think of that described the now-dulled irritation he felt toward Ravenflight. He had thought of the other cat as an ally, someone who shared his views. But apparently, Ravenflight was worse than SouthClan. He was willing to kill someone close to him...
Lionheart sighed, physically changing directions in his walking. Maybe now that his face was turned toward the evening sun, he could focus on something else-- something that wasn't in the past. Like patrolling. That was what he was supposed to be doing. Robinflight had been with him, but had fallen back to bury a squirrel she had caught. She would be catching up eventually.
He stared at the sun, framing a tree trunk that blocked the worst of the eye-burning light. They should be getting back soon.
It was almost dark.
C o d e . P h r a s e: Uh, sorry. I don't do these. I did read the rules, and it's insulting that you wouldn't believe that without a 'code phrase.'
Sorry. I'm actually not that much of a nonconformist, normally. ^^[/font]
