Ƭ ι м в ɛ я Ɔ ℓ α и .|. ACCEPTING

[ʞ ɔ ǝ ɹ ʍ d ı ʞ s]

((@Cheshires_Heart yes, we are still accepting :3))

[caats]

Иαмɛ
Burntpaw.

Ǥɛи∂ɛя
Tom.

Aɢɛ
8 moons.

Яαиκ
Apprentice.

Ɖɛƨιяɛ∂ Яαиκ
Leader!

Ƥɛяƨσиαℓιтʏ
The word that describes Burntpaw best is 'actor'. Burntpaw wants many, if not most, to think that's he's a little apprentice from Starclan, but he isn't. Burntpaw is rather, a apprentice that's fallen from the Dark Forest. But does anyone realize that Burntpaw is truly a dark little kitty? No, Burntpaw would never reveal his true self to anyone. Burntpaw also acts exetremly shy, although, all that time he spends alone, while the other apprentices are sharing tongues or training together, is spent plotting. Plotting about what, you ask? How he'll become leader, of course! Burntpaw finds the pain of others amusing, hilarious, in some cases. He also enjoys watching others suffer through pain. Say a queen recently lost her kits, a fox stole them, let's say, Burntpaw will follow her out in to the forest, and when they're alone, start making fox sounds, or leading a fox in the area towards her. Burntpaw also enjoys following, stalking, and tracking. Sometimes, just for fun, he'll follow other apprentices or warriors in to the forest and scare them. As you can probably tell by now, Burntpaw has a dark heart.

Ғʋя Ɖɛƨcяιρтισи
Burntpaw was named for his ash-like coat colour and his flaming-red tail. HIs fur is rather messy and tends to stick out in every which way. Most times Burntpaw's fur isn't very clean, for Burntpaw lacks the patience to clean all of his fairly long fur. Although Burntpaw was pitch-blackkit, his fur has become tipped with the same red upon his tail, giving him quite the eerie appearance. On his two froth paws, Burntpaw has equal white toes, turning back to black at pretty-mcuh the same place. On his back paws, Burntpaw has more uneven sock. On his right leg, his 'sock' reaches up to his ankle, and on his left, it does about half as high as the other. On his face, where his fur is the darkest, his has quite a bit of white on him. The white upon his face ends in a perfect point just about each eye. The whit eon his chest almost stops just before his shoulders, in another point, but a thin trail continued down his chest until it ends between his legs.

Єʏɛ Ɔσℓσя
Bright, flame orange.

βσ∂ʏ Ɖɛƨcяιρтισи
Burntpaw is average size, maybe slightly on the small size. He is extremely thin, and most of the time you can see where the skin rises up and down, even through his thick fur. His limbs are long and slightly willowy, extremely fine for running, His paws slightly large, but they make it easy to balance. His tail is fairly long, ending in a fluffy-red tip. Due to having a mostly black face and white whiskers, Burntpaw can occasionally have a comical look, but he tends to slash at anyone who mocks him. Burntpaw has quite large ears, and his left ear flops forward, right at the tip for unknown reasons.

Ƙιи
Burntpaw was an 'only kit' and his parents both died int he war.

Ɔℓαи σғ Ħɛяιтαɢɛ
Shadowclan x Windlcan, although he doesn't know he is part Windclan.

Lσʌɛ Ɩитɛяɛƨт
No crush nor a mate.

Ѳтнɛя
I'll just add this in;
(my posts)


Just because I'm losing
Doesn't mean I'm lost
Doesn't mean I'll stop
Doesn't mean I'm across



śiłaš
Silas smiled, although dark thoughts filled his head.
[i]She deserves so much more then this. She's got to be the prettiest girl I know, yet she has to be here, alone in the middle of an unknown land, I feel so sorry for her...
His thoughts trailed off at that. He chuckled slightly at her words, except his father and her parent weren't the same. his father was English and her's was German, they would never get along after this war was over.
"It's fine," he said with a smile, " I can't help the bakers heal their hate, but I can always help heal the thing they hate."
He bite his lip, hoping what eh had just said made more sense when he said it then it had in his head.



Just because I'm hurting
Doesn't mean I'm hurt
Doesn't mean I didn't get what I deserved
No better and no worse


Along the lines of that ^^

{Finished!}

[ʞ ɔ ǝ ɹ ʍ d ı ʞ s]

((Accepted :)))

[~IshikawaPrefecture~]

((@Eclipsepool thats not a rule, but you did miss a couple ))

[Maybe I shouldn't have join this RP if I'd known this was a semi-RP.]

[♥Cheshire's_Heart♥]

((I have to go to dinner, but I shall be back to make two male forms I hope that's ok.))

Иαмɛ
Robintail

Ǥɛи∂ɛя
She-cat

Aɢɛ
Thirty-one moons old

Яαиκ
Warrior

Ɖɛƨιяɛ∂ Яαиκ
Senior Warrior

Ƥɛяƨσиαℓιтʏ
Robintail is a small warrior and very lean. She lacks brawn and as a result she made up that lost element with intelligence. Robintail is a quite witted she-cat but in no means is she ever mean or cruel. Robintail enjoys high intellectual conversations with other cats that she spices up with playful banter that only the smarter breeds of cat can enjoy. Robintail has never once been openly arrogant about her mind since she has the bit of sense and wisdom needed to know that would gain her many enemies. Robintail has a finely tuned intuition that helped her avoid many dangerous situations in her life as a warrior. She usually has a good sense into predicting the weather of the day by watching for key signs in the sky and she remembers where and when to find the best prey of the season from previous adventures with her old mentor, Bumbleflight, who now rests peacefully in the elders den. Although Robintail is rather chatty with her friends, she is quite quiet around those of whom she rarely converses with or of whom she hates. Robintail does not hate many cats, but there are a select few that have really gotten under her fur. Robintail finds the medicine cat the most interesting role in the whole clan system. Every time Robintail finds herself injured and resting in the medicine den, she will not cease her questioning about the medicine cat's role with Star Clan and how difficult was it to keep up with all the herbs and such. She asks innocently and sweetly, but after all even the most patient of cats could find her questions to be a bit annoying.

Ғʋя Ɖɛƨcяιρтισи
Robintail is definitely an original breed Siamese. She has all of the components there: the darker face and muzzle area; and the dark tipped ears, tail, and paws. Her fur is very smooth altogether as she keeps it very well groomed. Her darker spots are all a dark brown.

Єʏɛ Ɔσℓσя
It is very common for a Siamese like Robintail to have those striking blue eyes.

βσ∂ʏ Ɖɛƨcяιρтισи
Even though Robintail is small, she is very lean and that is perfectly natural. Her whole body placement is aerodynamic. The head has a flat slope from the forehead to the tip of the nose and the skull shape is very narrow. Her lean long body remains constant all the way out to her skinny tail.

Ƙιи
Jaystripe is Robintail's litter mate. They did have another litter mate, Sparrowjump, but he died on the thunderpath about a moon ago. He was hit by a silver monster. Robintail's mother, Doveheart, is in the elders den along with Robintail's father, Stormpelt.

Ɔℓαи σғ Ħɛяιтαɢɛ
Robintail was told that her ancestors can from an ancient clan known as Wind Clan. They were known for being fast runners. Robintail secretly thanks those ancestors for her lean and sleek body that is also capable for fast running.

Lσʌɛ Ɩитɛяɛƨт
None of course. I would take someone of extreme wit to win over Robintail. So far there are only two cats who Robintail has believe matched her in wit: her brother Jaystripe and her older mentor Bumbleflight.

Ѳтнɛя
Red is my favorite color.

Ғσямαттιиɢ Єϰαмρℓɛ
It's not exactly my normal posting style for warriors, but its some of my best work.

District Eight
-Clotho-

The morning air would normally be cool and crisp at this time in the year. It was very unwelcoming when Clotho rolled out of bed at her hit her bare feet against the wood floor of her small house. Clotho had a old alarm clock on the side of her ratty bed that was pretty busted up, but still working on some unknown miracle. Clotho had a plain nightgown on and it was enough at the moment to keep out the cold. As she passed by the house, she peered into a room that belonged to her little brother, Stitch. Smiling softly, Clotho walked over with her arms crossed and bent down to place a small kiss on Stitch's forehead. Stitch's light gray eyes fluttered open and he yawned as he sat up."What day is it?" He murmured softly. Clotho then exposed her frown as she remembered. "It's the reaping Stitch..." She replied softly. His soft gray eyes looked up at her instantly, now clouded with distant tears of fears. Clotho let his petite arms wrap around her neck as she wrapped her own soft ones around him. "It's ok Stitch. You've done this before, its just your second year. You have nothing to worry about." As Stitch pulled away Clotho was sad to see that his fear was brimming over the lower lids of his eyes. "Come on, I'll help you get ready." The early part of their morning was spent in each others company as Clotho fussed over buttoning up a clean shirt and slack she had made him and getting his hair straight while Stitch complained that she was pulling too hard and worrying too much on his appearance. Secretly it was mornings like these that both of them enjoyed, bonding over a common notion. Clotho worked on herself when she was finished with Stitch. Clotho brushed her hair out straight and then worked the tangles to fix her hair in an elegant French twist. Clotho didn't have any makeup, but she didn't really need it. After she pulled out a dress she had fashioned herself she only needed to pinch her cheeks a bit to get them to that rosy pink color. Clotho paused and took a moment to examine herself in the mirror. Her pale rose dress was simply in the middle with a heart-shaped cut along the neck line. The sleeves were made from a more sheer fabric that Clotho had gotten from an old dress that had once belonged to her mother. Clotho gingerly touched the sleeves and sighed as she breathed in deeply, the sleeves still had the scent of her mother's homemade rose perfume. Turning back away from the mirror quickly, the bottom of Clotho's dress spread out and the flowery underskirt swayed with it as she stepped into her old white flats. Clotho noticed a figure in the doorway and looked up to see her father, smiling. "Just a beautiful as your mother. And just as resourceful to." Clotho smiled as tears started to fill her eyes. Rushing forward she embraced her father and he hugged her tightly. "Be strong Clotho. Stitch is very luck to have an older sister like you leading him through the reaping. Even as a little girl you were always strong through them." Clotho took a deep breath between her tears. The musty scent from her father's favorite vest filled her nose and calmed her. As a child she used to bury her face in the same vest whenever she felt afraid or scared. Her father patted her back and pulled her back up straight. "Now don't start crying Clotho. You'll ruin your best dress." Clotho smiled and even let out a little laugh as she wiped the tears from her eyes. Stitch came back into the room at that point, frowning from the stiffness of the starch clothes, but he was tolerating it. Clotho smiled and bent down a bit to straighten his collar. "Now, don't you look handsome?" Stitch shrugged her off at first, pretending to be cool; but then he smiled cheekily and wrapped his little arms around Clotho's neck and placed a big kiss on her cheek. "It's only because you won't let me out of the house looking like anything else." Clotho smiled and kissed his cheek in return. "Alight, lets go. We don't want to be late for the greatest fashion crime since spilling grape juice on my white sundress." Clotho was talking about Effie Trinket. The strange pink and green lady from the capitol. Stitch clutched onto Clotho's fair hand as they both stepped out and made their way to the town square. Of all the children attending the reaping, Clotho and Stitch were probably the most decorated pair of children. Clotho was known for her excellent seamstress skills after all. Town square was alive with the rest of district eight's children. All were neat and clean for at least this one day. Clotho let go of Stitch's hand as he walked off to be with the kids of his age group and Clotho went off to be with the seventeen year old girls. Clotho didn't talk much, in fact, almost no one did. The reaping wasn't a very social event usually. It wasn't until that click clack of high heels that quieted the little bit of talking that was going on. Effie Trinket with her pink wig, Clotho could obviously tell it was a wig, stood before everyone between the two bowls of names on stage. "Hello all, and happy hunger games!" The people were silent. Effie cleared her throat and continued. "Anyway, ladies first." She said as usual every year. Clotho looked at the nervous glaces of the younger girls. Clotho pitied them so. They were just starting, and Clotho was almost finishing. She only had one more year. Clotho was so into her own thoughts that she did not hear who was drawn. Clotho snapped out of her daze when she saw others looking at her, wide eyed. Clotho assumed that someone next to her had been called and she looked to the left, and the girl there tried to say something to Clotho but no words came out. "Um, I said will Clotho Akon please come up to the stage." Clotho's heart stopped. Her mind seemed to be floating through water as she looked up slowly to the stage. "Yes, come on up dear." Effie said to her, motioning to her with her fresh pink nails. Clotho turned her head another way as a peacekeeper grabbed her arm, and started to pull her up to the stage. Clotho heard shouting. A little boy was screaming. Clotho saw Stitch, running past the peacekeepers up to her. He grabbed onto her pretty pink skirt and screamed, begged her not to go. Clotho reached out, and touched his face. His skin was so soft, she would make sure never to forget that. The peacekeepers were coming quickly, and in that time Stitch stuffed something into Clotho's hands. She looked down slowly to see a sloppily made doll out of scratch fabric, thick thread, and cotton. It was a pin doll, something young sewers were first taught to make so they could put their pins in something and have a play thing. "I made it!" Stitch sobbed out. "You taught me! Keep it with you! Don't let them take it from you!" Clotho understood, and finally being pulled from her state of confusion she kissed Stitch on the forehead one last time before the peacekeepers dragged her up on stage. "Aw, there you are my dear. Oh what a lovely dress you have! Where did you get it?" Effie asked enthusiastically. Clotho stood there, unsure of what to do. Effie gestured to the microphone and Clotho blinked before stumbling a bit closer to it. "I-I made it..." Effie beamed up a bit and took the microphone back. "Oh, what a talent you have my dear! Now please tell everyone your name." Clotho waited a moment again. "My name is Clotho Akon. I am one of the female tributes from district eight." She never thought she would ever say those words.

[ʞ ɔ ǝ ɹ ʍ d ı ʞ s]

((@Its not semi-lit based on length, its based on content. So if your sentences are simple full and descriptive, then thats ok :3))
((@Cheshires_Heart accepted!))
((And I think we can start now!))

⊱ ⊱ ƨ ρ ι ∂ ɛ я ƨ т α я ⊰ ⊰

• 29 мσσиƨ • ℓɛα∂ɛя • αρρяɛитιcɛ: Ғℓαмɛραω • ♂ •

" Ƭнɛ ƨʋи ιƨ ƨнιиιиɢ ɛʌɛяʏ ∂αʏ, вʋт ιтƨ ғαя αωαʏ; σʌɛя тнɛ ωσяℓ∂ ιƨ ∂ɛαтн... "

Spiderstar emerged from his den and stretched in the light of dawn. The morning mist tickled his nose and he flicked his whiskers, looking around and admiring the brave, colorful flowers growing on the land so many cats had died on. He paused and his mind went quiet. No one else seemed to be awake, but he could hardly hold still. He made his way to the apprentice den, sticking his head inside. "Flamepaw, wake up. Lets go on a hunting patrol." When he saw the apprentice stir, he ducked back out and walked over to the warriors den. "Littlehawk, Frozenheart," he hissed quietly into the den. "Wake up; hunting patrol. And Duststorm, could you take care of the rest of the patrols for today?" He knew they could hear him; they never let him down before. Usually he did not ask his deputy to do something so obvious, but being the curtious tom he is, he liked to make sure she knew he was only assigning one patrol, not the rest. He ducked out of that den and sat by the fresh kill pile, smoothing out some tufts of fur as he waited for his patrol to arrive.

[Kitten <3]

Ɖαωиғɛαтнɛя
Dawnfeather yawned. "Duststorm?" she asked. "Could I go on a patrol?"

[ʞ ɔ ǝ ɹ ʍ d ı ʞ s]

((@Sandpool could you format your posts, centered at the least? :3 maybe with her name in a color at the top? Thats a simple, pretty format :3))

[Kitten <3]

(Okay. I edited my post. I hope you like it. If not,I'll center it.)

[ʞ ɔ ǝ ɹ ʍ d ı ʞ s]

((@Sandpool its alright, I like it :3))