Advertise your Group Roleplay HERE! [check the rules]

[RogueRunner]

━━━━━━━━━ W A R R I O R S ━━━━━━━━━

╔

╗

║
║
║
║
║
║
║
║
║
║
║
║
║
║
║
║
║
║
║
║
║
║
║
║
║
║

║
║
║
║
║
║
║
║
║
║
║
║
║
║
║
║
║
║
║
║
║
║
║
║
║
║

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
It is undeniable that dogs were bred with the idea of them being subservient to twolegs in mind and, for the most part, that plan worked. The majority of their generations have become weaker, softer, and, most critically, more ready to please and listen to their "masters."

However, a select few dogs began to question this reality. In order to live the more fulfilling and exciting lives that they craved, they turned to their wild roots, escaped captivity and rejected the feeding hand. Many of these powerful individuals made the decision to live in the wilderness, as their ancestors had. Over time, they naturally worked into new generations of offspring the old primal instincts and an urge to avoid twolegs entirely. This resulted in hardy feral dogs that competed for the little resources available to them, at least compared to what was offered to the soft pets of the cities. The feral populations grew selfish and power-hungry, with violence becoming frequent, fierce, and eventually pointless. So, they would go on to create their own code of laws to pursue a nobler, more honorable lifestyle: The Warrior Code. This yielded many cooperating groups with orderly hierarchies, called Packs. In one such case, a beautiful forest territory was split between five distinct, competing factions:

ThunderPack, RiverPack, ShadowPack, WindPack, and SkyPack.

In a world of constant famine and foreign threats, rivalries can quickly cross lines - and, for the Forest Territory Packs, it only takes the death of one group to ruin everything.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Where your loyalty lies among the chaos is entirely up to you.

╚═══════════════════════════════════════════════════╝

[Luscinia]

Link here

┌─────────────────────────────────────┐

Xi│
Xi│
Xi│
Xi│
Xi│
Xi│
Xi│
Xi│
Xi│
Xi│
Xi│

│iii
│iii
│iii
│iii
│iii
│iii
│iii
│iii
│iii
│iii
│iii

Swiftclan has resided in the city for a long time, far longer than any of the elders, or the elders before, or even the elders before could remember. The lights, the stench, the constant sounds, and the rough asphalt underneath their paws is all that the clan knows. Their paws are calloused from the many moons walking on the rough ground, which was frosty cold during Leafbare, and unbearably hot during Greenleaf. Yet, kits have always been told stories of vast lands filled with colorful flowers and trees taller than they could image, places with large holes in the ground filled with clean water and a seemingly endless supply of prey. Prey that wasn't just pigeons, rats, or twoleg scraps, but birds capable of complex songs, speedy rabbits, and bouncy squirrels. The ground below their paws wouldn't be made out of harsh stone, but soft dirt and tickling grasses. It's an ideal land established in Swiftclan's mind from a young age, but one the clan never dreamed of settling out of fear of change. That is, not until the great plague struck the clan.

About six moons ago, cats began to fall ill. They would become feverish, froth at the mouth, and vomit until the mysterious disease claimed them a couple of sunrises and sunsets later. With the number of clan cats beginning to decline, cats began to suggest leaving the land behind and finding the place described in the stories passed down. The leader was hesitant until Starclan sent the leader and the medicine cat a message: the sickness ends where stone turns to dirt. Now the clan is preparing to leave the land that they've known for so long, and are considering taking outsiders with them, to both increase their numbers and to hopefully save them from the plague as well.
└─────────────────────────────────────┘

[vash the stampede.]

━━━━━━━━━━━( 𝑭𝑼𝑳𝑳 𝑴𝑶𝑶𝑵 )
for centuries, the werewolf packs bermuda and calypso have fought over a
small piece of land that lays in between their territories - a small island th
ey call the moon isle - which is where they go to have meetings, or gather
ings they call. but only ever during the full moon. bermuda pack believes t
he moon isle belongs to them as it used to belong to them back in the day,
before leaders decided for it to be a peaceful, neutral territory. will peace
ever be maintained or will blood be spilled?

main thread || discussion thread

[Maplejay]

Bamburgh Castle by Tim Gorman, on Flickr


〈 𝑑𝑦𝑛𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑦𝑐𝑙𝑎𝑛 〉
___________________

the clan's leadership had been passed down the royal line for as long as any cat could remember . . . until now.

although saddened by her father's premature death, velvetstar proudly received her nine lives [with only mixed responses from the royals of starclan]. the clan assumed her brother, larkwhisper, would be chosen as the new deputy since he was the only member of the 'royal' line left in good health. shockingly, velvetstar broke the unspoken rule of choosing a cat related to her by blood as the new deputy, and her younger brother, larkwhisper, is furious. velvetstar made the decision to appoint a non-royal deputy because although she would be breaking tradition, she knew her brother was not the best choice to lead alongside her.. and, she knew he wouldn't agree with her plans for the clan's future. the clan is shocked - some angered at velvetstar, some untrusting of insertdeputyhere, and some in agreement that larkwhisper didn't deserve the deputy position. some worry what lengths larkwhisper's anger will push him to. meanwhile, velvetstar is making some other notable changes including increasing the difficulty of apprenticeship training and testing the skills of the warriors by making them brawl. she wants dynastyclan to be the strongest, fiercest warriors ever heard of - no exceptions.

will peace ever be restored?
only time will tell.

___________________

forms/rules/ooc goes to discussion thread
[this clan has normal ranks & rules as other clans, it was just tradition to pass down being a deputy to the royal bloodline]

[amarok.]

[ᴛ ʜ ᴇ ᴛ ʀ ᴇ ᴇ s ᴀ ʀ ᴇ ᴄ ᴀ ʟ ʟ ɪ ɴ ɢ]

_______________________________________________________

jasper ridge. a small town, somewhere in the mountains,
with a population barely breaching two thousand and a history of unusual goings on.
yet, aside from the occasional disappearance, things have been quiet for years.
perhaps a brutal series of murders was overdue.
eleven dead, two missing. strange people arriving during all hours of the night.
the police have yet to comment on the matter.
birds no longer sing to greet the day.
the skies have been still.
the shadows in the forest, even, have ceased to stir.
the whole world is holding it's breath.
see, these weren't any typical murders, commited with a mundane weapon.
the victims were literally ripped apart.
as if, the strange men say, by werewolves.
there have been rumours of lycanthropes stalking the streets for centuries.
nobody has ever listened to them,
apart from to laugh and then barricade themselves in by night.
just to be safe.
there have been rumours of people entering the woods, never to return,
stories of how, if you stand alone on a silent night, you can hear the trees calling.
everybody knows you don't answer.
you must never answer.
yet people still go missing.

discussion

_______________________________________________________

[ᴅ ᴏ ʏ ᴏ ᴜ ʜ ᴇ ᴀ ʀ ᴛ ʜ ᴇ ᴍ?]

[འབྲོག་ཁྱི]

█ ▌
█ ▌
█ ▌
█ ▌
█ ▌
█ ▌
█ ▌
█ ▌
█ ▌
█ ▌
█ ▌
█ ▌
█ ▌

▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆
▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃
─ 𝐼'𝑉𝐸 𝐺𝑂𝑇 ──────
────────────
⹂ ────── 𝗡𝗢 ─
────────────
⹂ 𝑹𝑶𝑶𝑻𝑺 ──
▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃
▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The nomadic Balva pack has braved the challenging climate beyond the Arctic Circle ever since they could remember.
They've traveled with the wind, howled at the northern lights, and reveled under the midnight sun, but no one place has
been able to hold them long enough to be called home. And with every setting sun, a tired soul succumbs to the rigours of
this lifestyle. So when the young new leader decides that the pack should break tradition and settle down to establish a
territory of their own, it is thought that the change would be welcomed by all. But it doesn't take long for whispers of
mutiny to surface...


Do you choose to remain loyal, or will you still hear the call of the wilds?

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

█
█
█
█
█
█

[sorellabac]

INTRO|RULES|PLOT|CHARACTERS/ROLES|RELATIONSHIPS|OTHER|DISCUSSION

►◀►◀►◀►◀►◀►◀►◀►◀►◀►◀►◀►◀►◀►◀►◀►◀►◀

In a world where everyone has a balloon that signifies their destiny, it's easy to wonder how they work. Ten people, ten colours, trapped in a government facility. Used for testing in an effort to change their balloon's colour, whether they like it or not.
Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, purple, white, black, pink and the rare translucent. Unknowest to the subjects, two subjects before them have escaped. Now they want to break the new subjects out and prevent the project from happening to anyone ever again. Meanwhile, in the facility, the subjects have gotten restless and they are starting to hatch a plan to escape and hopefully find the other escapees.

A balloon holds one's soul, to pop or destroy it means death. Of course, people still die from natural causes and accidents, but if one's balloon is popped they do not get to go to the afterlife, for their soul has been destroyed. Though, these balloons are sturdier than normal balloons which means they could only be popped if someone was purposely trying to.

►◀►◀►◀►◀►◀►◀►◀►◀►◀►◀►◀►◀►◀►◀►◀►◀►◀

[RogueRunner]

━━━━━━━━━ W A R R I O R S ━━━━━━━━━

╔

╗

║
║
║
║
║
║
║
║
║
║
║
║
║
║
║
║
║
║
║
║
║
║
║
║
║
║

║
║
║
║
║
║
║
║
║
║
║
║
║
║
║
║
║
║
║
║
║
║
║
║
║
║

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
It is undeniable that dogs were bred with the idea of them being subservient to twolegs in mind and, for the most part, that plan worked. The majority of their generations have become weaker, softer, and, most critically, more ready to please and listen to their "masters."

However, a select few dogs began to question this reality. In order to live the more fulfilling and exciting lives that they craved, they turned to their wild roots, escaped captivity and rejected the feeding hand. Many of these powerful individuals made the decision to live in the wilderness, as their ancestors had. Over time, they naturally worked into new generations of offspring the old primal instincts and an urge to avoid twolegs entirely. This resulted in hardy feral dogs that competed for the little resources available to them, at least compared to what was offered to the soft pets of the cities. The feral populations grew selfish and power-hungry, with violence becoming frequent, fierce, and eventually pointless. So, they would go on to create their own code of laws to pursue a nobler, more honorable lifestyle: The Warrior Code. This yielded many cooperating groups with orderly hierarchies, called Packs. In one such case, a beautiful forest territory was split between five distinct, competing factions:

ThunderPack, RiverPack, ShadowPack, WindPack, and SkyPack.

In a world of constant famine and foreign threats, rivalries can quickly cross lines - and, for the Forest Territory Packs, it only takes the death of one group to ruin everything.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Where your loyalty lies among the chaos is entirely up to you.

╚═══════════════════════════════════════════════════╝

[vorfreude]

░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░

banff, alberta, a remote town in the wilderness of canada with a population of 7,847 people. it was a peaceful
place with the banff national park close by, nature had most of the control; at least until the supernatural mov
ed in. the werewolf tribe, Mesiac, came all the way from slovakia to make home in canada. they hoped that m
oving from their home, they could escape the vampires and even the remaining hunters. with the death of thei
r alpha, the eldest child had to step up and take control. those same vampires they tried to run from simply fo
llowed them, seeking a peculiar crystal they held secret. the coven of soleil seeks the solar crystal so they may
not be imprisoned by the lunar crystal, combining them would destroy them, making the vampires an even grea
ter threat. without the balance, the world was going head on into an apocalypse. luckily, the appearance of the
two ancient tribes awakened a kind of power within a girl in banff and several others around the world. the hu
mans that weren't present in the town, deep in their subconscious a voice kept telling them to go to banff, that
danger was coming. a war was happening between two tribes that had kept the peace until a hunter beheaded t
he alpha of mesiac and butchered soleil commander's lover, the feud between the werewolves and vampires wer
e inevitable. the apocalypse was bound to start, and that very hunter that ruined the peace, knew. will renegad
e keep the peace or watch it all burn to the ground?

░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░

link to rp - XX
link to forms & discussion - XX

[wildsight]

███ █
███ █
███ █
███ █
███ █
███ █
███ █
███ █
███ █
███ █
███ █
███ █
███ █
███ █
███ █
███ █
███ █
███ █
███ █
███ █
███ █
███ █
███ █
███ █
███ █

xx

CASTAWAYS. A WARRIOR CATS ROLEPLAY. ━━━━━ long ago there was a group of cats called Sandclan.
Originally they went by the name of Seaclan. However, this all changed overnight after the fall of Troutstar. The
clan never feared the ocean, apprentices played in the salty water when the tide was out. Queens sat watching
the waves, keeping their kits close. Much of the clan’s prey was from the ocean and they even worshipped their
ocean ancestors. The stars in the night sky that are reflected off the water the clan calls the Sea Stars. The cats
of the clan said that these cats keeps the water at bay allowing no harm to come to those worthy of the ocean.
the clan was happy, nothing could be better. Until one night. It was the night of The Sea Stars a celebration held
by the clan every full moon. The cats of the clan were celebrating as usual, praising their ancestors both of Star
clan and the Sea Stars. Troutstar stood on his perch a large rock positioned near the ocean, where the waves
could hit it, legend saying that the one who stood on this rock, touched by moonlight was said to be worthy in
the eyes of their ancestors. However, as Troutstar announced the beginning of celebration it all went wrong.
The ocean had been acting quite rough, its waves tossing and turning. Suddenly, a particularly large wave came
and headed straight for the clan. The cats panicked, and ran but Troutstar didn’t react fast enough, being swept
off the rock and into the ocean. The clan mourned the loss of their leader, and thus the clan forbid anyone going
anywhere near the ocean ever again. Thus turning to the sparse forest near their territory and leaving the ocean
behind for good. Or so they thought. A storm came causing the cats to flee their territory as it began to flood. T
hey ran to where the safest place was. A abandoned two-leg ship. Getting on the ship the cats managed to stay
safe from the flood. Until one particular wave set the ship, sailing. Thus earning them the title of Castaways.

main thread