11/15/08 - 11/29/08

[Saberclaw]

Greetings! Alright. We've not many people but regardless, I'm seeing no activity from some who joined, no characters, nothing. Now here are standard rules of Activity Checks:

1. If you do not post here before the deadline, your account will be deleted the following day.

2. Please follow the guidelines which are written further on in this or your post will not be accepted.

Guidelines:

Character(s):
How often you log on:
Role-Playing Example(At least 5-10 sentences):

Active:



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Character(s): Saberclaw, Talonpaw, Hailpaw, Sixstar, and Sarge.
How often you log on: When I can, usually daily.
Role-playing Example: Pointed ears swiveled in the direction of any noise which didn't belong into the pattern of crickets and other night creatures as a patched tom of orange, white, and black weaved his way silently through brambles and trees, his forest green eye glowing as he searched for prey. His fur was sleek and smooth, and thick muscles ripple beneath it. He should have been back at the rogue camp monitoring the other mouse-brained fools but it had long since been a chance to sink his teeth into the throat of another cat and he longed to feel the flow of warm blood rushing over his tongue with the knowledge that he had slain another, with the knowledge that the famed Warrior Code held no meaning to him. He killed to kill.
He was in Thunderclan Territory where his brother now held the highest position, leader. A surprise if he woke to find out another cat was dead! Saberclaw snorted quietly as he crossed the ravine, his eye on the one who stood guard during this slit of a moon. However, such moon provided little aid for the striped gray tabby as he slipped into shadow before launching himself at the tabby who began the makings of a shrill alarm yowl which died quickly in his throat as Saberclaw burrowed his teeth into the tabby's throat just as he was using his hind paws to batter at the rogue leader's underside.
He could feel the salty taste of cat blood as he spat the fur out of his mouth, his gaze fixed on the tabby. It was like eating, he needed to kill to survive, to kill others, followers of a blind belief!
"Saberclaw?" A deep voice rumbled from behind him.
He whirled around, claws unsheathed and tail lashing as he realized his mistake. All around, silhouetted shadows of cats surrounded him, teeth bared and hissing coming from them.
"Saberclaw, wake up!" Sixstar growle lightly, pushing the old tom on his shoulder, his eyes flickering open.
Bright yellow sunlight filled his vision as well as the bare trees above. He glanced up where Sixstar loomed, looking down at him, pity flickering through his eyes. Where had the blood gone? Where had the thrill of the hunt gone! He glanced around, blinking in confusion. It had been a dream...just a dream. He let out a sigh, setting his head on his paws. Just a dream.

[Nine]

Character(s): Ghoststar (Ghostfeather{hasn't been accepted yet}
How often you log on: Try to get on once a day
Role-Playing Example(At least 5-10 sentences):
Eyes locked on a rabbit shiflaying under a thin bush. Ghostfeather shifted his weight as he stalked his prey. He knew he was downwind, so there was no troubles there, now, it was time for the assult. Ghostfeather creeped forward as silently as he could. The rabbit's ear twitched and Ghostfeather stopped. As it looked like it went back to shiflaying, Ghostfeather creeped forward, but the rabbit was faking. It took off like a speeding bullet, causing Ghostfeather to spat as he took off after it. His legs easily helped his catch up with his prey, and in seconds, he paw lashed out and knocked the thing off balance, causing it to tumble head over heels. Ghostfeather took this chance to pounce on it and bite its throat. As it finally stopped thrashing, he released it, waved his tail over his back, grapped its scruff, and carried it back to the WindClan Camp.

Active: Yes! (trying to be)

[Cloverleaf]

Character(s):Cloverleaf
How often you log on: Not nearly as much as I should.
Role-Playing Example(At least 5-10 sentences): The silent forest, lacking in color and appeal, opened before Cloverleaf as she made her way to the creek. The days were getting bitterly cold, harsh winds piercing her thick silver fur and biting at her skin. Green eyes glowed in the dim light, reflecting the lives that she had taken in her short moons of life. Her paws lay down with a soft crunch on the frost laden leaves. Not one leaf remained on the trees in the rogue lands, and her home looked more miserable than usual, more dismal. She glanced around, parting her jaws for any prey scent, but none came. Sighing quietly, she made her way down to the creek and drank small sips from the icy water. It created a pit in her stomach and chilled her blood as she drank. Shaking her fur out, Cloverleaf turned on her heels and began to pad back to the camp, quiet and contemplative, hoping that newleaf would come soon. Her skin clung to her body, and if she were wet now, you would be able to see each and every bone in her body. She had been slowly weakening since the middle of leaf-bare, starving. Every time her belly rumbled, it sent spasms of pain coursing through her, causing the she-cat to crouch and tremble.

Never had she shown such weakness before. Her enemies feared her name and even more, her presence. Her claws were sharpened at least three times a day. Her long fangs that she inherited from her mother, dripped with saliva as she bared them from the scent of prey. Her mouth watered as she lowered her body and headed in the direction of the mouse. She could hear her heart beating in her ears, the blood flowing rapidly. The small brown creature was just as thin as she was, with little meat to be provided. But she balanced herself, rocking back and forth on her haunches, and then launched herself forward, through the air. Her claws extended, her fangs bared, she caught the small creature with ease. With one quick blow to the back of the head, she had killed the tiny creature. And with three quick gulps, the mouse was davoured. Her hunger hardly satisfied, she found a thorn bush, well sheltered and protected. The wind had picked up and blew her fur sideways. Looking around quickly, Cloverleaf took a large piece of moss from the rocks only a few tail-lengths away, and dragged it into the bush.

The silver she-cat worked it into a soft nest, prodding it with her forepaws, The outside was worked into a raised barrier, keeping out the cold and preserving the warmth. She curled up into the greenery and layed her tail over her nose. Warmth quickly followed under the thick thorn bush. Sleep came quickly and heavy as she closed her eyes. Cloverleaf had not been sleeping because of the cold and her malnuroushment. But now, with some sort of sustanance, she was able to sleep comfortably. The tore bitterly at the bush, threatening to rip it from the ground, but the rogue remained asleep and unaware as her mind took over.

Active: I am now!!

[Firey]

Character(s): NA.

How often you log on: ...Is it alright to be evasive and say I definitely need to come here more often? XD Alright. Well, I check in here weekly. Um. Sometimes. >.>

Role-Playing Example(At least 5-10 sentences):
You could have heard the faint boom emitted from Panqua Palace even if you had straw stuffed in your ears. Qiu had not only heard it, but he had seen the rather memorable repercussions. Huge blocks of masonry cracked audibly, then the entire Panqua Palace just fell over like a tower of playing cards.

The once great towering Palace had been completely demolished. For once the term "wiped off the face of this Earth" was not a total exaggeration. Qiu Yun wasn't sorry to say goodbye to all those priceless silk tapestries, fancy gold-silver inlays and jewel studded railings, but the Palace had been a great tribute to ancient architechure from way back.

But Qiu knew that the bits of Palace were not going to lie there for very much longer, if he knew the various scavengers around the Middle Kingdom. Some owls did have a love for finery after all, even if he didn't. They would gather the shattered pieces of valuable artifacts that were reparable yet and put them back together again for their own hollows. Oh, there may be a new Palace built again, rising from the ruins of the old one if the nobles had one of their little fits, but Panqua Palace was the one that was ancient.

It was a survivor of old times long gone. Qiu knew that sometimes the old had to be put aside to bring in the new, but that didn't mean one couldn't look back and think of one's roots...

And so Qiu was here to say goodbye. A lighter shadow wafting alongside the darker shades of night, he thought he could hear the distant memories of the Palace... Regal emperors perching on their thrones, haughtily unaware that a few thousand years from then, the Royal Family wouldn't have much say in anything at all.

The blue Boobook owl flapped his ungainly way through the night sky, small body twisting in a tight but wobbly spiral down...down...and landed with a thud that threw up dust and tiny bits of pottery ( magnificent pieces from who knows which dynasty). The landing could have been smoother. But no one whose feathers were in a poorly state could muster much aerodynamic grace.

Qiu looked around, his big yellow pupils widening. All that was left of the magnificent Palace was scattered on the dusty grounds: gigantic chunks and fragile pieces alike. Here and there, Qiu saw tattered rags that outlined legends and myths of the Middle Kingdom. Qiu Yun lowered his head for a moment, mourning the passing of the old Palace. Such a waste.

Not only that... Something has happened here. The explosion that I observed must have been of fairly large magnitude, to completely destroy the Palace. Then, I wonder if anyone else is here. Perhaps scavengers...? Aloud, he said "Well, I shall know in the subsequent minutes." The blue owl set off on his exploration.

Although his feathers were unkempt and raggedy, Qiu did not let them grow long and sweeping like the vain Dragon owls of Panqua. Instead, they were more or less flight capable, although his clumsy ministrations had made him look distinctly lopsided and odd. At least he was able to move around though, if a little slowly.