[PeanutButterRum]

Welcome to Rise!
Rise is an adoptable based on Warrior Cats and focused around world building and character development.
Please make sure that you read the main thread so that you understand limits and levels!

To claim you must be at least level 1 or not have a founder in progress or a founder at all. Please be sure you have room in your clan before applying for this cat.

This cat may not be traded until: date
There is a 2 month cooldown after each ownership change.
For a transfer to be official, both parties must post on this cat's page. The original owner must post in the archive.

This cat found a half burned candle in their territory, there was various bones and fully burned candles around it. Your cat doesn't understand where it came from or what it is. What do they do with it? Do they leave because they sense evil or take it with them because it feels like it will protect them? Or something else?
Word limit: 500 (+/- 250 max/min)

End Date: 21st of March

Code: Select all

[b]Username;;[/b]
[b]Cat Name;;[/b]
[b]Gender;;[/b]
[b]Age;;[/b]
[b]Clan;;[/b]
[b]Rank;;[/b]

[b]Prompt;;[/b]

Username:
Cat Name:
Clan:
Rank:

Gender:
Age: moons
Description: Cinnamon self with a small patch of white (minimum) on chest.

Other Features: Their orange eyes seem to burn like... a candle (flavor text)
Siblings: None Living

---------------------------------------- SSS: Foundation
----------------- SS: Foundation
---------------------------------------- SSD: Foundation
Father: Foundation
---------------------------------------- SDS: Foundation
----------------- SD: Foundation
---------------------------------------- SDD: Foundation

---------------------------------------- DSS: Foundation
----------------- DS: Foundation
---------------------------------------- DSD: Foundation
Dam: Foundation
---------------------------------------- DDS: Foundation
----------------- DD: Foundation
---------------------------------------- DDD: Foundation

[Shadowflight13]

Username;;
Cat Name;;
Gender;;
Age;;
Clan;;
Rank;;

Prompt;;

possible mark, if I have time
this cat stumbled upon a summoned demon and no one can tell me otherwise xD

[SurgeFire]

Res? :0

[Ladyskittels]

Username;; Ladyskittels
Cat Name;; Timbersoul
Gender;; Tom
Age;; 46 moons
Clan;; Glacial Blizzard Clan
Rank;; Member

Prompt;; (759 / 750 words)

"Please help me...." A far away voice whispered in the head of the cinnamon tom that had been previously keeping a watchful eye over a promising-looking meal. He recognized it, but at the same time it was different than those he had heard before. It was definitely not a voice from anyone nearby; at least no one living.

"I beg of you," the voice pleaded, seeming more desperate than before. "Please help me."

Timbersoul sighed and decided to ignore his rumbling stomach for now. It was definitely the voice of a spirit, although whether this spirit was recently passed or had just recently had something urgent come up with a living loved one, he was unsure. The desperation that radiated from the voice was the same as many of those troubled spirits he had heard before; he was born with a natural gift.

A peculiar gift, a gift that isolated the tom from many cats. Timbersoul possessed the gift to communicate with spirits and help them ease their troubles so they could finally rest in peace. Like so many times before, this spirit beckoned him to their aid, as a gift as peculiar as his was quite rare and not many spirits were able to find someone who could help them, let alone see or hear them.

The cinnamon colored tom began the long journey of the spirit voice guiding him that ended with a gruesome scene; a large pile of burned remains of a twoleg homestead. As the tom drew nearer to the rubble, he was sure he saw the remains of whichever spirit had been contacting him, next to the burned remains of several candles and other twoleg items that were undecipherable among the soot and ash.

"I'm here," Timbersoul said aloud, his voice calm and soothing. "Can you tell me who you are?"

At first nothing happened but a few moments later, the voice came again, a bit stronger than before. "You can hear me?" It asked in the tom's head once again.

"Yes," he replied. "Please, tell me what happened to you so I can help." The tom closed his eyes and lowered his head to show he meant no harm.

"My name is Patrice. This used to be my home, before the fire came and took it all from us. There were the five of us that lived here, myself, my mate Pita, and the twolegs. There were three until their daughter didn't come home one night. The two others were very sad after that; were never the same."

Timbersoul opened his eyes to find the ghostly outline of a black and white shorthaired female cat standing opposite him. She appeared to be watching him intently, as if she were just as fascinated with him as he was of her and her story. "What happened after that?" He asked, wanting to hear more.

Patrice circled a spot next to her remains before she sat. "Pita and I learned of what happened to her days later. She had died in a car accident coming home one night. It broke her mother and father; they were never the same after the news of her death came back. They tried so hard to come to terms with it, and eventually were able to move on enough to resume a life that resembled how it was before. Days came and went without incident until that day..." Her voice trailed off again as she turned her attention toward the bones on the floor.

"What happened on that day?" Timbersoul asked in a soft voice as he joined her in looking at her own remains. "I know it's hard to talk about, but you need to tell me.... I can help you."

He took a breath as Patrice's piercing green eyes turned on him suddenly. Not wanting to make her angry, he looked down again. "That was the last day of my life; the day they brought home that weird-looking piece of wood and when the candle tipped over. Flames were everywhere; soon the whole house was in flames. I couldn't get out, although everyone else was able to. I feel my mate's pain everyday. I need him to know that I'm okay, even though I'm gone I'm still waiting to be with him."

With that, the tom placed some of Patrice's remains in a small pouch he found in the rubble and wore them around his neck, promising her he would find her mate. She still travels with him, unable to find peace until her mate is found.

[a ghost!]

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username dinah. » name cedarsky » gender tomcat » age twenty nine moons
clan suntrials » rank warrior
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» prompt »

france, 1976.
there inside a little house hidden behind a blanket a wheat, a lady of no more than thirty one, known by the name Alexandra Williams, danced along the counters of her porcelain kitchen. her shoes tapped against the tile flooring, a quiet song sand softly from a little radio beside her. her golden brown hair sat atop her shoulders gently, the skirt of her flowery dress shifting with every move. her delicate features were splashed with flour, a pie sitting idle in the oven as one did each morning.

in the room beside stood a periwinkle chair, it's wooden pegs hidden underneath the cloth. a man of thirty four sat in it's center, his darkened brown hair slicked neatly to the side. George Williams, as he was called. his face hid behind a newspaper, his legs crossed over each other in a proper manner. his suit was wrinkled slightly by the chair, the silver cufflinks attached to his sleeves shone against the sun as it streamed through the window ahead.

a child sat by his side, no older than three. his golden hair hung loosely with little care. the precious blue eyes he had inherited from his father were hidden from sight, his head lowered to play with whichever toy he had been given earlier that day. clacking could be heard from the wooden item, it's wheels being turned roughly as it ran across the carpet with the help of little Henry Williams.

they were a rather happy family indeed, though quaint, for each day they seemed to glow brilliantly in the company of the other. one day, they would gather into a little group in their main room and dance along to joyous tunes, those of which were happily provided by Henry. another day, it happened, they would venture out into their field of their to enjoy the little tree of theirs, who only seemed to remain happily among the wheat due to Henry's liking towards it. granted, the dirt that stuck easily to Henry's clothes were rather annoying for poor Alexandra. nonetheless, they believed their life to be cheerful. they were grateful for their time together, cherishing the moments they shared.

but soon, their little home they had loved so dearly appeared to crumble at the seams. for you see, their little son who had sung such joyous tunes and climbed towards the highest branch despite his mothers pleads, could do such things no more. he lay in his bed motionlessly, his cheeks sunken into his head. his skin took on a sort of ivory color, his eyes closed peacefully at the wishes of his parents. Alexandra lay crouched at his side, his hand wrapped within her palm as she wept for him. George stood back, his eyes watched the boy carefully with what appeared to be the hope of his return. though it never came.

they buried their son behind the dying oak of which he favored so dearly, flowers planted at his side lovingly. candles were placed before his resting spot, the wax melting quietly onto the soil below it. Alexandra cried helplessly into the arms of her husband, who held her close that day. George's neat hair was now carelessly ragged with grief, choking silently on his words as he wept. they then bid their son goodbye.

Henry Williams, beloved son.
1973 - 1976

cedarsky watched as the upwalkers crouched beside the tree hidden in their territory, their scratchy gray fur hanging messily beneath their woven sunhats. their hands pat shakily at the ground, candles strewn discarded on the surrounding territory. he stood hidden behind a thick blanket of wheat, his eyes squinted past the golden grass ahead of him. the upwalker stood shakily, their hands raising to hide her face. dirt smudged her furless skin, her mate placing a hand on her shoulder. he talked in his usual, and rather useless, language, coaxing the other to leave with him to what seemed to be their home. perhaps to retrieve something? cedarsky did not know, nor did he really care. he trotted along the wheat barrier, following the scent of newly turned soil. bones laid uselessly atop the ground, half used candles melted into the dirt. he did not care for what had happened, although intrigued. with no time at all, it seemed, he was forced to once again hide behind the golden blanket of wheat as the upwalkers approached once more. he pondered for awhile, deciding to leave. and so he did.

[SHARKGVTS]

Username;; .:Nerdbriittle:.
Cat Name;; Otterpaw (Otterspirit)
Gender;; female
Age;; 10 moons
Clan;; Voyagerclan (will link later)
Rank;; apprentice/atlas

Prompt;;
-reserve with unusual things happening-

[Lirrie]

Marking

[Knickknacks]

mark :0

[sylveonsweetie987]

Big mark!

[Trickz]

Username;; Thunder.Collects
Cat Name;; Shrewbelly
Gender;; Male
Age;; 15 Moons
Clan;; CreekClan
Rank;; Warrior

Prompt;;
Shrewfoot, if he were to stumble upon the candles and bones, he would instantly recognize the bones for what they were. At first, he would see this as prey and try to eat it, but after deciding it wasn't tasty, the tom would decide it was crowfood and not suitable for eating.

The tom would take it with him to camp to ask Snowheart if it were a sign from StarClan, and she would sense the evil and say yes, it was an evil sign from StarClan, and that their clan would burn.

Terrified, Shrewfoot would collect what he brought to camp and dispose of it all into the creek, before deciding that could ruin their water source and doom them all a different way.

He got as much as he could out of the water before taking it towards the mountains, leaving it at the base and returning to camp, feeling like he completed his duty and saved his clan, awfully proud of himself.

However, when he returned to camp, he was met with laughing clanmates. They pranked him and found the items near a twoleg settlement awhile ago. Shrewfoot was dumb enough to fall for it, and was, unfortunately, the victim.