✧ ― storm
polarlights
- Created
- 1 year, 8 months ago
- Creator
- polarlights
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- 15
Profile
— stormeye, obsidian
Nicknames. — badger
Age. -
Gender. female
Pronouns. she / her
Relation Status. closed
— bisexual
— monogamous
Rank. wanderer
— ruler of the cliffs
Allegiance. the phantoms
The Phantoms' Finest, Storm is a presence rarely seen, but ever known in whispers of her deeds. Often entering the depths of the cathedral only in tempestuous weather, one will soon find that rumors of the imperial she far exceed her appearances in actuality. A confidant to Algorveil who exudes a quiet grace and lethal conviction, Storm's presence is fleeting, but ever impactful.
Executing her tasks with martial precision and a lifetime of discipline, Storm's presence exudes a royal authority that keeps many in line - and swiftly corrects any who fail to get the memo.
solemn | acute | vigilant
stubborn | intense | haunted
✧ First Face : The World.
Storm presents as a towering and resplendent she, apathetic and detached from those around her.
Confident and skillful, there's a particular wistful somberness that follows her wherever she goes. Storm is often by her lonesome, meditating or seeking tranquility, and rarely makes an effort to reach out to others within the Phantoms.
Despite her calm demeanour, there's a distinct and powerful aura that surrounds her. One that commands respect, and suggests that some mysteries are best left unsolved... such as how far exactly one has to push to see her patience run out.
✧ Second Face: Close ones.
In those beloved to Storm, her care manifests as security and safekeeping. Quality time spent in deep conversation, sharing tongues or meals, or even silence by the riverside. Storm cherishes the company of those dearest to her in all forms, many of which need no verbal explanation. Protective to a fault and unwilling to suffer further losses, it takes little tampering with her loved ones to push the often stoic she-cat over the edge - and yet those same loved ones will quickly come to realize Storm is devastatingly apathetic to her own injustices, believing them an incurred price for her failings.
Traces of playful mischief and a tellingly soft gaze from a once reknowned predator become more visible as the ice around her heart melts, exposing her most vulnerable places. Guilt and shame mix like blood and water in the wake of a massacre that left her heart bludgeoned and every part of her stained red, and within the broken remnants, it's clear there is nowhere left for her to exist. There is, however, room for you.
✧ Third Face: True Reflection.
How does your character behave by themselves? What is thought from the depths of their hearts, reserved for themselves alone and has never been mentioned in front of anybody? Do they think they are scum or do they truely think everyone around them is scum?
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Build. sturdy, muscular
— Storm boasts an intimidating and robust build, a common sight in the Cliffs where she was raised. Sleek and sharp, well defined musculature and an intimidating collar of fur that bristles with a thunderous fury is often enough to dissuade would-be attackers from making a fatal mistake.
— Powerful limbs made and large, hooked claws are ideal for scaling the often vertically slanted slopes of the mountain ranges she lived in, as well as maximizing damage when exiting wounds. They are extremely sharp, habitually honed on stone.
Scars. one
— One large, jagged scar, scores itself directly across Storm's eye in a vertical line. It's evident whoever made the cut took her eye in the same motion; leaving behind only a foggy reminder. This scar seems to be a source of intense, chronic pain for Storm.
— Despite partaking in many battles, Storm is only beholden to this single scar. Many see this as proof of her untouchable strength.
Voice. solemn, impactful
— Carrying the dreariness of a wanderer who'd sinned one too many times, Storm's often tired and whisper-like voice brings a calm and soothing energy with each thoughtful word she speaks. Thoughts are expunged with a wistful, melodic calculation, whilst replies are punctual and formal, ending with an icy resolve. There's a raspy undertone when drowsy, worn over from moons of use in battle.
— Though you'll never have to strain to hear her speak, Storm is known to rarely raise her voice. In fact, when she's furious, rumors state it grows alarmingly quiet, as if preparing for an outburst that never comes. You may find that Cliffs' cats, however, have a strikingly different memory of Obsidian - touching upon her thunderous yowls and deafening admonishments as frequent memories.
Eyes. half-blind, heterochromic
— Facing the world with her eyes closed, Storm frequently sports a red cloth that keeps either both or exclusively her left eye—concealed beneath.
— Beneath Storm's blindfold is sudden, glaring intensity. Central heterochromia lightens the inner ring of an otherwise smokey grey iris with an electrifying blue hue, whilst the right shines in gold. Beneath the overcasted tones in both of her eyes, you’ll see fractals of gleaming silver scintillating just under where the light catches, calling to mind flashes of lightning.
— Storm’s right eye barely functions. Catching only light and shadow in distorted blurs, the pupil displays little save for the beholder’s own reflection; a mirror cast in refractive, milky silver. Here, the iris is lined with a golden inner ring as opposed to the left's blue, occasionally visible beneath the murky haze.
Fur. dark, heavily patterned
— Throughout her frame, Storm boasts short and plush fur. Onyx fades into deep grey skies, patterned over with darker, cloud-like spotting. Running between them are crackling veins of gold—a telltale sign of her royal heritage.
— Around her neck, Malachite’s traits make themselves known in a thick and silky mane, often static to the touch. This tempestuous and often unruly fur extends down her shoulders and grants her a powerful and regal air, like the feathers of a commanding officer's coat. When angered, it bristles wildly in all directions.
— Hardening the silver fur on the back of each of her limbs using pine resin and other composites, Storm can wield them like slicing weapons. This technique is known as Resinbinding, and is said to be very time consuming and difficult to use.
Scent. petrichor
— Petra; stone. Ichor; the blood of the divine. Petrichor is the smell of Storm—fresh rainfall on dry and rocky earth. Her prior metallic and bloodied iron scent has long since faded with numerous rainfalls, but good noses may still catch slight remnants. It never fully goes away.
— Recently, Storm’s often rigid scent has taken in additional subtleties; notably, the smell of wild clover and smoke has found a welcome home in her fur, attributed to her tendency to sleep coiled around the phantoms’ cranky lantern bearer.
Accessories. cultural.
— A crimson cloth wrapped around her left or both of her eyes. many think her fully blind, due to the fact she only ever takes off the blindfold when sleeping.
— A scarlet amulet wrapped around her ear holds her soulstone and name; Obsidian. The gemstone is a deep black color, carefully inlaid with finer gold veining to signify her role as the cliffs’ beloved queen. Culturally sacred, these gemstones are removed only from the wearer in death.
to something that kills us.
|
Lawful Good |
Neutral Good |
Chaotic Good |
|
Lawful Neutral |
True Neutral |
Chaotic Neutral |
|
Lawful Evil |
Neutral Evil |
Chaotic Evil |
| ISTJ | ISFJ | INFJ | INTJ |
| ISTP | ISFP | INFP | INTP |
| ESTP | ESFP | ENFP | ENTP |
| ESTJ | ESFJ | ENFJ | ENTJ |
Dislikes. loud and abrupt noise; dishonorable conduct; cowards; stealth-based fighters; content; content; content; content; content; content; content; content;
Fears. shame; divine wrath; mist; disgracing those closest to her; loss; content; content; content; content; content; content; content;
Ambitions. forgiveness; doing well by her late parents; content; content; content; content; content; content; content; content; content; content;
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Trivia.
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Artist/Band
the weight of the world is clear.
01. What's the lie you say most often?
"A cowardly tactic employed by sheep. I do not waste my breath on lies."
The Cliffs' as a tribe pride themselves on honor and nobility, in combat and all things. Lying and sly or covert behaviour is disencouraged. As a result, they are often seen as blunt to a fault, and Storm is no exception. She loathes stealth based combatants, and becomes notably aggravated when those around her display such behaviour.
02. What do you notice first in the reflection versus what most others first notice looking at you?
"My eye, on both accounts. I was told they were beautiful, once. Though it no longer holds that selfsame resplendence, many still stare. Aside from the obvious, perhaps others simply enjoy seeing their reflection within. Though the contents of my pupil change, I remain."
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03. If you were suddenly challenged, would you rather run away or stay and fight?
"... Is this some sort of joke?"
In line with the Cliffs' strict adherence to honor in combat, running is seen as cowardly and dishonorable. The Cliffs' are masterful and skilled in combat, and Storm was raised to fight without fear of death.
04. Are you proud of who you are?
"Is the sun proud to rise each morning? The wolf after snapping a rabbit's neck? They do what they must. We do what we must."
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05. Are you afraid of death?
"We know the end as intimately as we know ourselves. Strangely, still, I have fought Halcyon on numerous occasions, only to lead a purposeless existence. Perhaps, somewhere along the way, I did become afraid."
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06. What does a perfect world look like to you?
"There is no such thing. Remove sacrifice and struggle, and apathy will take its place. This world is just fine."
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07. What do you see in an ideal partner/s (romantic or platonic)?
"Eyes like fire."
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08. Is there somebody you haven’t been able to forgive? What did they do? Do you want to forgive them?
"..."
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09. Do you think the future is hopeful? Why or why not?
"The future is what we make it. As of late, I quite like the direction I've been moving. I suppose that is one of the advantages to having a guide, is it not?"
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10. What is your darkest childhood memory?
"I was a sick kitten. The price of Halcyon's absence weighed heavy on my kin. I wager my darkest memory is the day I realized that my brother had gone cold in his sleep. My mother's yowls, that morning, were... particularly haunting."
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Summary.
the story at a glance.
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✧ WARNING: no explicit warnings.
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Chapter Zero.
My father tells me... the day I was born, the sky wept tears of joy.
"Well? Don't keep me waiting, Moissanite. Is she well? Are all of the kits alive?"
"I quite think Queen Lapis is doing better than you are, your majesty. Why don't you go and have a seat while I fetch some moss?"
It had been anything but quiet in the nursery, that day. Nosy visitors stacked boulder-high at the den entrance, waiting for good news... Or, perhaps even bad news, so long as it was something. And when that something came, the mountains roared with cause for revelry. Four healthy kits; three toms, and one she—successors to the throne. Malachite was immediately endeared to his only daughter from the day he set eyes upon her; a carbon copy of himself, unscarred and new to the world. Before the small pile of gathered jewels, Malachite and Lapis both outstretched their paws, inadvertently reaching for the same one. Only when they met in the middle of the small shard of glass, did both monarch's ears perk in surprise.
"Obsidian." Amidst Lapis' playful smile, Malachite spoke first, prompting a soft giggle of acknowledgement from the queen.
"Her name will be Obsidian."
✧ WARNING: no explicit warnings
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Chapter One.
A Rocky Start.
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"Proin lobortis convallis ultricies. Donec commodo finibus mi. Nulla hendrerit orci ut libero scelerisque, vitae accumsan lorem varius. Cras auctor vitae nisl non elementum. Donec magna eros, placerat sed finibus eu, interdum vel nisl."
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✧ WARNING: no explicit warnings.
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Chapter Two.
Stolen.
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"Nulla libero ex, tristique et imperdiet ut, sollicitudin ac ante. Curabitur fringilla sodales auctor. Duis nec quam arcu. Nullam venenatis diam nulla, vehicula ultricies magna viverra faucibus. In mauris purus, commodo a orci pulvinar, tincidunt rhoncus eros."
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"Maecenas pharetra blandit orci a laoreet."
— STORM's thoughts towards Glimsky
— Glimsky's thoughts towards STORM
✧ First Encounter and Impressions.
In the dark, solemn depths of an nursery thrice empty, Obsidian lay; the last Queen Lapis' four kittens, lost to the quiet. In the gaps between extended slumber, Obsidian would catch a glimpse of the outside world; of the sun's rays, washing over the edge of the den like waves.
In the godless recesses of an abandoned cathedral's graveyard, Storm stood; the disgraced Queen of the Cliffs - a nameless traveler known to the Phantoms only by her moniker. In the gaps between silent tombstones and their slumbering souls, the partially blinded she-cat would catch a glimpse of an unusual, flickering flame, approaching between choked out panting from within the fog.
It was a day like any other when she'd met Azulite, the young tom's shadow eclipsing the light.
It was a day like any other when she'd met Glimsky, the cloaked feline's lantern shining against the dark.
The connection had been immediate. They were kind and sweet, chivalrous and gentle. When he spoke, it was music, and Obsidian could feel out each heart string as they were plucked in tune.
The loathing had been prompt. They were irritable; crass, with a sudden and unpredictable temper. When they spoke, it grated on her ears; whiny, tempermental, electric; strumming the chords of her patience as if trying to make them snap.
✧ Attitudes and Dynamic.
Obsidian grew to love him. She reasons that was why he never stood a chance. The day after his warrior ceremony, Azulite was stolen; an act of vengeance against the throne, enacted by his very own father.
Storm grew to love them, in spite of herself. They were familiar, and new, and the less they came to fear her, the more she wanted to stay. They plucked at her heartstrings, even still; at times, vexingly, in others, charmingly, a nostalgic song with freshly added notes. She could dance to it, and they would know her steps; across a thousand worlds, wearing a thousand scars.
✧ Hopes for the Future.
Any plans for the future? Does MC want to become best friends with this character or... perhaps does MC want the character to drop dead?
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- add any relation trivia here!
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GIVEN NAME Obsidian
NICKNAMES
Storm
Halcyon
TITLES
Empress
Shogun, General
GENDER Female
She/Her
???
AGE
???
???
AFFILATE
Now disgraced leader of the Cliffs
Joined the Phantoms after Riverclan disbanded
ROLE Warrior
FIRST NAME Obsidian
Given to her by Malachite and Lapis, in the hopes of fostering a kit with equal resilience
RIVERCLAN Stormeye
Given for her single exposed eye, clouded over in the wake of the storm
Last Edited 00/00/0000
Forever Homed
Worth 5 croissants
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- This profile may include sensitive themes and serious topics that could be distressing to some readers ᅳ Viewer discretion is advised
- This profile is a work in progress (WIP), so some details may be incomplete, missing, or subject to change as it continues to be developed
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Use this space for additional info and what not!
Storm
Regal • Confident • Skilled
"Do you understand the violence it takes to become this gentle?"
-
Notes
- Storm's fur and whiskers are sensitive to shifts in the environment, and her fur is highly susceptible to static electricity. You'll often get static shocks touching her!
- Storm's large fur collar wraps around her shoulders in the likeness of a commanding officer's jacket, and is reminiscent of thunderclouds in a stormy sky. When annoyed, it will stand on end in a tempestuous fashion.
- Ever since descending from the mountains, Storm wears a blindfold. It is most frequently worn over both eyes, and occasionally worn diagonally, only covering her left. It is never worn over just her right/blinded eye.
- Storm always wears the gilded obsidian amulet around her ear. In the Cliffs, this jewel, known as a soulgem, is priceless and unique to each individual. It serves as identification, in both name and status.
Character
Likes
- Conquest and battle
- Beautiful things, especially in nature
- Meditation and white noise
- Her clan, family & home
Dislikes
- Dishonorable conduct
- Cowards, stealth-based fighters
- Buzzard
- Loud, abrupt sounds
Moodboard
Subheader
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The leader of the Phantoms. Storm considers Algorveil a competent ruler, and follows his word with little complaint. Storm's infalliable nature and reliable strength proves useful for the Phantoms' exploits, and in exchange, Storm is granted a place to stay during the autumn and winter months where she prefers not to travel.
Storm has a particular fondness for the Phantoms' lantern-bearer. Don't bother asking her, she will not comment.
Storm remains unimpressed by the Starspeaker's martyrdom, and finds her weak and uninteresting. Still, she owes Estelle her life, and remains somewhat grateful for that alone.
Though many among the Phantoms find Redleap to be deeply unsettling, Storm is not of the same mind.
Storm remains entirely oblivious to Mindtwist's obsession with her, and finds her good company. Despite her mentor being one of Storm's most hated enemies, the two have fostered a kinship of sorts.
Riverclan's leader, who Stormeye served beneath as deputy during her stay in Riverclan. The two often standoffish cats were very close.
Mindtwist's previous mentor. Stormeye holds a particular distaste for the virulent she-cat, believing her shadow-reliant, stealth based combat to be cowardly. Stormeye was particularly susceptible to her poisons.
