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Post by Ranjit on Aug 7, 2007 12:24:18 GMT -5
curse me;;
Ranjit
tease me;;
Ran (close friends only)
find me:
Score
carve me:
Brute
sin for me:
4
bleed me:
Mutt (Andalusian, Friesian, amoung other heavy breeds)
tower over me:
18hh
persona:
hatred fulls my blood. Hate, it sums him up almost perfectly. Ranjit is the picture of hatred. He hates everyone and everything. It does not take much to stir hius fury and when you do, watch out. Ranjit holds grudges for a long time, and does not forgive easily.
and love said no. Love; an unknown emotion to this darkhearted stud. He does not believe in love; he sees it below him and scorns the dark horses who do love. He has felt love's gentle caress once before and that was the last time he ever wanted it.
sorrow swallows my screams. Sorrow; saddness, misery. Something this stallion seems to radiate. He loves causing misery, adores seeing saddness show in another eyes, lives to cause sorrow.
we're tearing away the petals of desire. Desire; for what? Power. Ranjit adores power. One might go so far as to say he lusts for it, but one would be wrong. Ranjit has a disre for power and he can easily get it, because he knows how.
learning the mathematics of evil by heart. Evil; the words thet sums Ranjit up so completely. He is wrapped in evil's cold embrace and loves every moment of it. He breathes evil, see evil, hears evil. And speaks it.
picture me:
Click
colours. His body is black as the sky at midnights hour. It is tinted with red the hue of blood, mainly because some of it is blood.
markings. On his left hind leg, down near his hock he has a bright splash of blood red, a streak of it, about four inches long. On the right side of his neck he has a red marking, a heart combined with a pentagram in a circle. Its his only birthmark other than the splash of red.
details. Muscular and tall, Ranjit is a force to be reckoned with. He doesnt need to speak to strike fear into your heart, he just looks it. His pelt is black as pitch as I said eariler, with deep red tints, some blood, some hair. His mane and tail are long and thick, tangled with knots. Their hue is closer to red than black.
eyes. Indeed, these wicked eyes are too amazing to merely mention in details. They are a cruel, blood red, with a small pupil of black. The are almost cat-like, with slanting pupils instead of regular round ones.
a haunted past:
Ranjit was not born in this land. He was born many miles away, in a land without a name. He was born to Galaxite and Litala. His father and mother were not King and Queen of this land, they were only followers of the king.
Ranjit did not get his name as soon as he was born. His parents had two names picked out; Ranjit and Death. They were unable to decide, so they waited, deciding to let Ranjit prove himself of the herd. They had to wait a measly three weeks. Ranjit was playing with a few other colts when a bully who was only a couple of weeks older than Ranjit came and started being mean to him. Ranjit ignored him for a while but soon the colt struck.
That was his first and last mistake, because Ranjit slaughtered him. His parents watched the whole thing and decided then and there he was to be called Ranjit, which means victorious in battle. And he has been from the on.
The King of the land around there was interested in the colt. He came to visit and asked to see Ranjit. He took a liking to the colt and decided to train hi in battle himself. He, and his top general began to train the foal.
At two years old, his mother admitted that he had had a sister once. He asked what happened to her and his mother said she had been killed by cougars. Ranjit did not seem to care, because he did not. He owed no allegiance to a sister long dead.
Not long after this, his mother's body was found. It looked like she had been raped along with murdered. Ranjit's father went insane at the loss of his mate, which disgusted the young Ranjit. Galaxite took to attacking members of his herd. He made the grave mistake of attacking Ranjit. Ranjit killed him and left.
The colt did not get far. A gang of young pumas attacked him and killed him. Ranjit descended into the pits of hell, furious that he had been beaten. The devil came to Ranjit, willing to give him his life back. The devil was a pure white horse, with dragon like wings of pure black. His main and tail were red, as were his eyes.
He told Ranjit he could have his life back if the devil got his soul. Ranjit agreed instantly. He was given his life back, but with more. He was granted dragon like wings like the devil had, along with red eyes. And powers! He could control fire, the wather, and others. What he did not know was that the devil was inside of him, replacing his soul.
Ranjit travled to a land called Friesian Valley(I think that was the name). He met horses, who, like he, had powers. Together, they formed the Ressurection Herd. They ruled in a cave at the north of the valley, killing at will. They made many enemies.
Ranjit met his first love there. Her name ws Melodramatic Fool, Melo for short. Sadly, she left the herd not long after they bred. It broke Ranjit's heart to watch her walk away. The herd began to crumble with the lead mare's departure. One day, the devil inside of Ranjit took his revenge. He told Ranjit he had used up the power that he had been given. He lost everything and fled the land.
So here he is, arriving in Autumn Scar for the first time. He plans on claiming the Score Lord spot and trying to live a normal life without powers. He hates it still, but is glad for life.
a taste of chaos:
Inside a den formed by the branches of many bushes, two cats lay side by side. One, a massive black tom, lifted his head to look up at Silverpelt, grief and sadness clouding his features. The other, a smaller white tom, lay still, breathing slow and laboriously. With a sigh, the white one lay fully still; the black tom knew his leader had lost another life. Not being a medicine cat, the black tom had no clue how many lives his leader had left. Sighing so hard it was almost a sob, the black tom pushed his large head against his leader's matted shoulder fur; he knew the life had arrived within the leader again. The old tom's breathing picked up and he lunged forward in pain. The black tom sighed miserably; a sickness had raged over his camp. All the cats but the tom and his ivory leader were dead. The once great ShadowClan had diminished to two cats.
With a racking cough that brought blood up, the white leader jerked, then lay still. The black cat waited; then, the leader lived again. Pressing his head against the white shoulder of the old leader, the young black tom sighed. It was not fair that his great leader, Whitestar, had to suffer this. Whitestar had been fair, and kind. He did not deserve this. Lifting his head to stare at Silverpelt, the black tom yowled, Why, StarClan? The great leader shuddered at the loud yowl, coughing again. With pain flashing across the leader's once handsome face, he looked insane. Rasping his tongue over Whitestar's ear, he purred, trying in vain to comfort the disease-ridden cat.
With one last shudder, one last body racking cough, the last life of Whitestar fled to be in Starclan. Lowering his head in sadness, the black tom mewed, StarClan recive him well. The deputy, now leader, of ShadowClan rose to sit on his haunches, misery sweeping through him as he sat in silent vigil. His gaze swept over the still, still warm body of his leader. Why did it have to happen to Whitestar? The black tom wondered. he knew the leader was old and had run ShadowClan for a long while, yet he had no deserved to die like this, at the hands of a merciless desease. It was unfair. Now, the black tom, whose name is Deadclaw, was leader. He wished it not so, but knew he had no choice. When dawn came, he would travel to Highstones to Moonstone to recieve his nine lives. When dawn came, he, Deadclaw, would be ShadowClan leader.
As dawn arrived, the black tom lifted his body from the sitting position he was sitting in. The black tom sighed, stretching his stiff limbs out. Having sat his silent vigil, the tom laid down, sharing tongues with his deceased leader for a last time. Lifting his head, ice blue eyes stared up at the sky, pinpointing the time. It was very early, this he knew. He had to bury the leader soon, then travel to Moonstone to receive the nine lives of a Clan leader. It was something the tom was not looking forward to. Lowering his head, Deadclaw licked his leader's white head, smoothing the hairs. He would have a hard time burying the cat by himself; ShadowClan had chosen a bad time to fall ill.
Walking out of the leader's den, he looked around the empty camp. Never, in all his moons of living in ShadowClan had he seen the camp this. . .forlorn. It was a sight that made his throat close in sadness. His only home was ruined. He had no clue if ShadowClan would ever be the same. Yawning, he stretched again. The young tom had to eat something before he traveled to Moonstone. With a tired stride, Deadclaw walked toward the forest.
Once inside, he opened his jaws to allow the scents of the marsh and forest and Thunderpath to drift into his mouth, to the scent glands on the roof of his mouth. Faintly, he could smell the scent of a mouse, yet it was old. Pricking his ears, he walked onward, keeping silent. Keen ears soon picked up the sounds of a mouse in the long, wet grass. Dropping into a crouch, he stalked forward. At the last moment, the mouse heard him and lunged away, but Deadclaw leapt at him, killing him with a single bite. Having no Clan to feed, he ate it himself. He had to eat more, yet a long search turned up nothing.
Entering the camp again, he walked to the leader's den. He nuzzled the leader again, the lifted the body and walked out. The scruff of the old cat gripped in his mouth, the black tom walked off. In a clearing where the earth was soft, he dug a hole large enough to hold the deceased tom. Lowering the body in, he covered the hole with dirt. Sadness covered his features as he murmured a soft word of thanks to the great Whitestar. Then he turned his back on the leader's grave, and made his way slowly toward Mothermouth.
The young tom halted a few paces from the leader den. Realization struck him hard in the chest: he could no go today, he had ate. Flattening his ears in slight frustration, he stalked off. Forcing his way into the nursry, he sniffed, wishing there were some queens he could talk to. Deadclaw exited, the smell of dead cats overwelming him as he steped outside. A tired sigh emitted from him, sadness etching itself across his handsome features. Leaping onto the Highrock, he laid down, curling his tail around his paws. Oh, how he wished for a cat to lay by, to press his face against someone's fur and forget his worries. Yet, he had no one. Deadclaw was truely, fully alone. . . .
*Other Information: -grins at Befera evilly- Ranjit, a luce? Are you really that stupid? Oh, lyric quotes in persona copyright to a7x and HIM. 1st and 3rd to A7X, the rest to HIM.
Password: AS pwnz all
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Post by Befera on Aug 7, 2007 12:28:53 GMT -5
YES. I'm really that stupid.  DECLINED... Just Kidding xDD ACCEPTED |
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Post by wowposter on Sept 10, 2008 15:42:41 GMT -5
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