Post by Crystal M. V. Rosepaw on Feb 19, 2009 22:01:26 GMT -5
ooc; Since I'm apparently in charge of anyone with a warrior character, this is a thread in which Crystal, my warrior char, will be helping out anyone with such a char. I'll try to help out with RPing too if you want; just tell me how harsh you want it, because I don't want to hurt feelings if you don't think you can take it. xD Also, if you see anyone join with a warrior char, direct them here unless I make a new thread, please?
Oh, and I stole the thread name from an old Daft Punk song. ;P Seemed fitting. :3
ic;;
Rain droplets formed puddles on the ground, the sheer bitter cold sweeping a crunching layer of ice over it, but it was thin and brittle. The large ring was vacated now except a lone figure standing in it's direct middle, surveying it and the weather. The ground inside the arena was bare; just dirt and mud in some patches, the ground swooping inward in places where others had trained here. There were footprints in the mud, telling the pawsteps of any whom had touched it. The air was cold, brisk, and made anyone standing still in it uncomfortable to be there. The sky was a dull gray, the clouds not even minding to hide their darkly shaded bellies. the sun still managed to somehow cast light from them, but it was dim, even though it was near noon.
Winter was the cruelest of all seasons. It seemed fitting.
The one figure in the ring did not even twitch against the cold air atempting to smother her; she stood still, her blazing green eyes darting around the ring, as if she could already see the willing recruits trying to mimic her movements and stepping up to face off with one another. She akways seemed that way; distant and feirce, as if she could see the future and past coliding in her present. She shifted her weight gently, a soft movement that seemed odd in the lithe, feral body she possesed. She walked softly, on her toes as always, to the side of the ring, shrugging her bag off her shoulders. The cloak about her, a pure black, swished against her ankles as she stooped low to place the bag down carefully. Inside it were mass ammounts of bandages and a few herbs; all of her limited knowledge of healing.
She wouldn't give them any quarter. They would learn to fend her off or she would hurt them. It was fitting.
The head warrior stood with her shoulders squared, automatically taking up a military-like stance. Her fur was white, silver-like threads running through it, along with the odd orange-red strand. The vixen lashed her tail, her thick fur, a trade mark of the arctic fox taking up half her blood, not letting the cold seep in. Her thin frame, at first thought, was probably from her genes as also being part red fox, but that was her own fault. Without thinking about it, she discarded her cloak, throwing it over her bag, letting her blue dress and lavender belt show freely. She stood there, her left paw resting on the hilt of her sword. It was a great thing, giant in size. She could hold it in one paw ofter much practice, but she had to use two to properly control it. It stood half as tall as herself, it's blade two paw-spans. The blade of it was currently resting in a black and silver sheath that barely stood off the ground, matching the hilt perfectly.
At her other side were two other weapons, but they were both folded. If she held the willow bars a certain way, from the handle would spring a blade like that of a scythe. These were called kama daggers, and she could use them with the same ability as her large sword. The dagger in her dress pocket was forgotten unless she was in a bad jam, and she had long ago discarded a ranged weapon after seeing how horrible she was with them. Her last weapon was mostly just on her for show, and she'd forgotten it today - a great length of chain that could support her weight. She would wrap it about her waist in a way she'd taught herself. It's links were of a medium size, so it could bend easily but not snap. She used it mostly to disarm or help herself climb, but it was not with her today.
Major Rosepaw stood there, waiting calmly in the arena. Her pupils would come. Of this, Crystal was sure.
Oh, and I stole the thread name from an old Daft Punk song. ;P Seemed fitting. :3
ic;;
Rain droplets formed puddles on the ground, the sheer bitter cold sweeping a crunching layer of ice over it, but it was thin and brittle. The large ring was vacated now except a lone figure standing in it's direct middle, surveying it and the weather. The ground inside the arena was bare; just dirt and mud in some patches, the ground swooping inward in places where others had trained here. There were footprints in the mud, telling the pawsteps of any whom had touched it. The air was cold, brisk, and made anyone standing still in it uncomfortable to be there. The sky was a dull gray, the clouds not even minding to hide their darkly shaded bellies. the sun still managed to somehow cast light from them, but it was dim, even though it was near noon.
Winter was the cruelest of all seasons. It seemed fitting.
The one figure in the ring did not even twitch against the cold air atempting to smother her; she stood still, her blazing green eyes darting around the ring, as if she could already see the willing recruits trying to mimic her movements and stepping up to face off with one another. She akways seemed that way; distant and feirce, as if she could see the future and past coliding in her present. She shifted her weight gently, a soft movement that seemed odd in the lithe, feral body she possesed. She walked softly, on her toes as always, to the side of the ring, shrugging her bag off her shoulders. The cloak about her, a pure black, swished against her ankles as she stooped low to place the bag down carefully. Inside it were mass ammounts of bandages and a few herbs; all of her limited knowledge of healing.
She wouldn't give them any quarter. They would learn to fend her off or she would hurt them. It was fitting.
The head warrior stood with her shoulders squared, automatically taking up a military-like stance. Her fur was white, silver-like threads running through it, along with the odd orange-red strand. The vixen lashed her tail, her thick fur, a trade mark of the arctic fox taking up half her blood, not letting the cold seep in. Her thin frame, at first thought, was probably from her genes as also being part red fox, but that was her own fault. Without thinking about it, she discarded her cloak, throwing it over her bag, letting her blue dress and lavender belt show freely. She stood there, her left paw resting on the hilt of her sword. It was a great thing, giant in size. She could hold it in one paw ofter much practice, but she had to use two to properly control it. It stood half as tall as herself, it's blade two paw-spans. The blade of it was currently resting in a black and silver sheath that barely stood off the ground, matching the hilt perfectly.
At her other side were two other weapons, but they were both folded. If she held the willow bars a certain way, from the handle would spring a blade like that of a scythe. These were called kama daggers, and she could use them with the same ability as her large sword. The dagger in her dress pocket was forgotten unless she was in a bad jam, and she had long ago discarded a ranged weapon after seeing how horrible she was with them. Her last weapon was mostly just on her for show, and she'd forgotten it today - a great length of chain that could support her weight. She would wrap it about her waist in a way she'd taught herself. It's links were of a medium size, so it could bend easily but not snap. She used it mostly to disarm or help herself climb, but it was not with her today.
Major Rosepaw stood there, waiting calmly in the arena. Her pupils would come. Of this, Crystal was sure.