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Post by {grayy ! on Sept 13, 2009 0:53:39 GMT -8
other characters: spottedleaf, graypaw, stonefur, patchedpepper, redbelly, nightlily & lillypaw.
canon character? no.
name: tsarr.
gender: male.
age: thirty moons.
clan: none.
rank: rogue.
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short appearance: handsome tabby and white tom with emotionless eyes.
appearance: Tsarr, the name itself is something of perfection, as are his looks, which really can capture almost anyone into a second glance. He is a rather large tom, being a fraction larger than most, with his lean, yet clearly visible muscles giving him a solid appearance. His legs are rather long, ending in regular-sized paws that give him great footing when moving at fast speeds, each paw packed full of claws that are slightly longer than most cats. His tail is rather thin and tends to always be swishing from side to side. Tsarr’s ears are rather large, but not large enough to attract too much attention, while his long muzzle stands out against his rounded face. Tsarr’s eyes are rather small, in comparison with the rest of his head, but, usually this too isn’t noticed, as these gleaming almond-shaped orbs are always narrow, twinkling with trouble.
It is, of course, the colours that make up any cat, and Tsarr stands out within a crowd, and it doesn’t take much really to remember his unique pelt. The base of his fur is that of a dark brown tabby, the rich bark brown colours striped with thick black stripes that in the end give him even colouring between black and brown. His lower brown coat tends to fade around his eyes and mouth, his black stripes standing out even more near his face. Tsarr also has some ginger on his, with his belly being a faded ginger, another path of this colouring on his right heel, also across the end of his muzzle. It is the white that makes up the cat though, with his paws being the most beautiful snowy white. This tone is also seen at the end of his muzzle near his nose and mouth, along with the beautiful pointed ring that covers his neck and goes down his chest in a sharp point. This colour wraps around his flask, ending at his shoulder blades in points.
Tsarr’s eyes are what captivate most cats though. They are bright, piercing amber that seem to burn anyone who makes eye contact with him. They are as manipulative as he is and can be used to display faked emotion, instead of showing the truth. Really, there isn’t a cat in the forest that wouldn’t be sucked in by this handsome tom.
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likes/strengths: • Blood.
• Fighting.
• Being in Charge.
• Scheming.
• Murder.
dislikes/weaknesses: • No beliefs.
• Lack in Relationships
• Imperfection.
• Anyone better than him.
• Things not going to plan.
personality: If there was a cat anything like Tsarr in the forest already, the clans would be prepared, but of course, he is a one and only. This tom was born a liar, and really, acting is his strongest point. You see, when you first come across this large tom, you won’t end up in a fight with him after all, that’s not how anyone makes friends right? He will manipulate any cat from that first meeting; always appearing to be a very courteous and charming tom, who only seems to have the better of the forest in mind. With his flowing words and seeming passion about whatever the conversation ends up about, he tends to get on the good sides of most cats. Don’t let this fool you though; Tsarr is far from the goody-two-paws he makes out to be.
This tom is far from stupid, if anything, he is the only cat in the forest with the wits and intelligence to really control the clans, to make them do as he wishes. He has a deep running grudge against these cats of “StarClan” from bring a young tom and it has taken a long time to get to where he is now and with a lot of experience under his weight, this tom knows exactly what to say to get through any defences. He doesn’t ever take anyone close to be a “friend” instead, keeping everyone he knows there for a reason, his most trusted cats there as parts of his ultimate plan. Never will he keep a cat around who has no purpose.
Though you may have guessed, this tom is a cold-blooded killer, with clearly, no emotions. A sociopath, as humans refer to it, just with one major difference, that he isn’t insane. There aren’t many living cats that has seen Tsarr’s true, murderous side, as this he saves for cats just before he kills them, or only his closest companions who put up with this. You can’t really give a description of Tsarr’s true self, apart from his constant bloodlust, his always scheming, always watching mind that never pauses. He tends to always thing ahead, to imagine all the outcomes of what he might do and choosing always, the one that would best suit what he wants. This tom feeds off chaos, and destruction, and always has to have the perfect plan.
He is obsessive over perfection though, needing his den, his pelt, his plans to be exact and even, never will a cat who messes up be left alive. This could be his ultimate fall, going insane because of a failed plan. He really is a cat no one should mess with, and one that needs to be removed from the forest as soon as possible.
one-sentence personality: With no emotions what-so-ever, Tsarr put up a charming front and can get under anyone's defences.
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history: It was storming, the night Tsarr was born and, if you’d believe it, he was once just like every other kit, full of life, curiosity and games, never seeing the darkness of the world. His father was a rogue, his mother an ex-kittypet who relied on their little family to survive. He was born beside his sister and brother, who he always loved with all his heart, well in the beginnings anyways. Living up in the mountains, he was five moons old when his family decided to move down into the forest. He had always heard great stories from his parents of the clans that lived there, of their battles and lifestyle. In the end, he grew quite fascinated with them and as he was growing up, took the time to go test their borders and investigate.
It was when he was barely eleven moons, when he started going downhill. It was another stormy night, when the cats from the city came out to their quiet nest one night, and attacked. Tsarr was woken by his brother’s pain-filled yowl. His parents’ fought alongside his sister and him, but the four of them, trying to protect their dead member’s body had barely a hope, so they ran. His mother had serious injuries and was on the verge of dying, his father in no better state. “Let go to the clans! They’ll have to help us!” He’d said in a panic, and his sister and he had carried their parents to the ShadowClan border, where they were found by a ShadowClan patrol.
But they didn’t get helped, they were attacked again, both of his parents killed by the fierce cats with cold eyes and dark pelts. His sister and he ran, a deep, burning hate left in Tsarr’s heart, eating away at his emotions. Diving into an old badgers set, the two tried to help themselves and fell into an unsteady sleep. They lived together for three moons, all the time Tsarr’s emotions of love and curiosity vanishing as he recognised the darkness of the world, everything he believed in falling before him. It was when he was sixteen moons that his sister had given up on him and his changes, his shortening temper and his losses. She left and joined ShadowClan, which was the last straw.
Running out, into the night, Tsarr was lost, full of grief, anger, frustration. He passed out in the middle of a meadow and when he awoke, there was nothing. He couldn’t feel anything, no regret, no anger... It took some getting used to, but he didn’t care, it was perfect. Focusing on the world around him, the tom begun to take in everything, to observe the imperfect forest and in his mind, he begun to make plans to correct the mistakes, to make his perfect world. Of course, for moons he travelled, learning all he could, more so of the cats in the city. Creating followers wherever he went, he learnt how to control others and what that could do, along with how to hide his emotionless soul.
Now, with him followers, he has a plan, and the start of in, involves a certain WindClan warrior who is looking to start a rebellion.
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mother: noelle. deceased
father: hanone. deceased
siblings: alberio [brother/deceased], snow-whisper [sister].
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roleplaying sample: ”Hah! It was not my fault that your little plan failed!”
before the young, impulsive tom could say anymore more, long, sharp claws dug into the tom throat. The larger tom wouldn’t stand for this, this was blasphemy, but this cat, he was young, and had a death wish. Flipping the young cat onto his back, Tsarr pressed his paws against the tom’s throat, his claws slowly pressing into the tom’s throat. He stood over the young cat, his amber eyes clear of emotion, a smirk plastered across the tom’s handsome face. The younger tom’s choking and gagging was like music as he slowly pressed his weight more onto his throat. Suddenly, he snapped his paws away, before swinging it back and slamming it hard, all claws unsheathed over the tom’s head. ”Oh you idiot” Tsarr cooed, using his clawed paws to snap the tom’s head back violently as he tried to climb to his paws, the younger cat stumbling backwards into the wall.
The dark tabby stood in the middle of the cave, his large presence bringing complete silence to the gathered, which stood around the edges of the clearing, the most experienced looking away in silence, the newer lot watching in horror. Tutting lightly, Tsarr broke into a grin, giving a deep, hearty laugh as he stalked forward, dangerous amber eyes glowing with pleasure, the type a cat gets when they’re on a hunt. ”You’re young, and impulsive!” The young cat was backed against the wall, fear in his eyes, and Tsarr loved it. Slamming forward, he rammed his shoulder straight into the tom’s chest, feeling bones shatter under his weight, the cracking sounds filling his ears, along with the tom’s coughing. Sitting back a bit, he suddenly lunged forward again, this time with his paws, using his claws to rip across the tom cat’s lower jaws.
He let the young tom try and stumble away, but whether he liked it or not, the kid was dying and it was fantastic to the older tom. Lunging forward, he snapped his teeth menacingly at the tom, watching his cringe, before Tsarr started to circle, his movements fluent, rehearsed, perfect. ”And that is what is killing you.” Leaping forward he scrapped his claws down the tom’s side, hearing his screech of pain echo off the cave walls. ”But it’s not just that,” Tsarr whispered in the tom’s ear, once again towering over the now lying down tom, his amber eyes glinting in the darkness. ”You have emotions.” Resting a paw against the tom’s temple, he almost stroked the younger cat’s head. ”You feel guilt, pain” scraping his claws down the tom’s head from his temple down to his jaw, Tsarr gave a sweet, little laugh, throwing his face so close it was only a whisker’s width away from the tom’s face, so the older rogue could stare into the weakling’s eyes, to savour the fear, the pain, the regret that swam in the dying cat’s gaze, while his own, remained stone cold, and terrifying.
”While I don’t. You offended my life, my perfection . That was you mistake.” Showing all his teeth in an evil sneer, Tsarr winked. ”Remember that when we meet in your next life.” Lunging forward, he sunk his teeth deep into the tom’s throat, letting the blood fill his mouth, the copper taste imprinting on his tongue. Suddenly, he ripped his head back, the tom’s windpipe coming with him. Standing up, Tsarr looked down into the tom’s eyes, knowing that the last thing the tom saw was going to be his eyes, as the older rogue stared down into the weakling’s eyes, feeling a wave of pleasure as the light faded from the young tom’s eyes.
Drawing his tongue over his lips, he sat down, giving a slow, soft laugh. Slowly, it grew louder, into an echoing, howling ring that sent birds from the nearby trees fluttering out in a flutter of feathers and calls into the night air.
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