Post by hymn on Jul 24, 2016 23:24:46 GMT
☀ m i s t p e l t ☀
name: mistkit - mistpaw - mistpelt
gender: male
age: eighteen moons
clan: riverclan
position: warrior
short description: stocky, long-haired tomcat with silver fur and black tabby markings.
appearance:
The word "unkempt" sums up the majority of Mistpelt's look. His long, thick pelt is a challenge to keep tidy, so he often skips grooming in favor of sleeping or eating. Life's indulgences do not include proper hygiene. Sure, he may smell like a musty old nest, but he makes up for it with his charm... for the most part. As a result of his lack of motivation, Mistpelt looks like a walking rat's nest half the time. His fur sticks out in every other direction like a plasma globe but his perpetual case of bedhead never stopped him from smiling. If he was not a RiverClan cat, the bits of dirt and leaves and twigs would probably be stuck in his pelt for all eternity. Mistpelt would roll into StarClan looking like a matted mess and smile without care. Thankfully, the river water blesses him with an occasional bath. Sometimes, he looks like he picked up every scrap of undergrowth from RiverClan to Mothermouth. If he was not so lazy, Mistpelt may pass as handsome. However, few cats are willing to go to bed with a stinky furball.
Sure, Mistpelt could be handsome, after all, he has the face of a charmer. The sharp angles of his expressions and the proportionate construction of his frame are the makings of a ladykiller, so it is a shame the only thing he enjoys killing is time. His build is typical of a RiverClan tomcat: strong legs for swimming, thick fur to keep him warm after dipping in the river, and a stocky build fueled by nutritious fish. While he is average-looking as far as his build goes, it is his face that wins a few admirers every now and then. Mistpelt has a strong chin, which begets a confident, tough tomcat. His almond-shaped yellow eyes are expressive and bright, perfect for keeping one's attention. With long whiskers and tufted ears, he manages a unique look, similar to that of a purebred Maine Coon--though he really is just another feral tomcat that reeks of fish and sodden fur.
personality:
Waking up without a care in the world, being able to enjoy restless slumber, and enjoying life without worry are the many luxuries Mistpelt relishes. His attitude towards life is as blase as can be. According to him, it is pointless to sweat about the small things, and all he can manage to care about is the big picture. Mistpelt thinks long-term, and when he faces minuscule setbacks, he shrugs them off and goes about his day without second thought. The attention to detail is nonexistent in Mistpelt's yellow eyes; he does not bother to notice how the little things may reshape the present. The butterfly effect does not exist in Mistpelt's world. While some may find his carefree nature admirable, Mistpelt has a bad habit of abusing it. His carefree nature is borderline careless. Mistpelt can excuse his lackadaisical demeanor with the notion that "it doesn't really make a difference," so he sleeps in without breaking a sweat and eats an extra meal or two. In the end, he believes his small shortcomings have little influence on the future. To an extent, he is right, but he finds so much comfort in the thought, he becomes sloppy.
When one can take the time to relax and let their head wander in the clouds all day without care, certain idealistic thoughts come to pass. Mistpelt is not the most intelligent cat around, but his philosophical whimsy is delightfully uncanny. He knows how to be creative, to say the least, and he conjures up some radical thoughts every now and then. After fletcherizing over his thoughts, Mistpelt takes great enjoyment in sharing his beliefs, no matter how unorthodox. Some brush him off as a loon or a heretic, others are enthralled by his ability to brainstorm strange principles about life that are so unlike Clan tradition. Of course, Mistpelt's unwavering composure in the face of calamity and distress lead many to question his sanity. How can a cat always be so... passive? Mistpelt does not have strong emotions towards anything except his personal belief system. Therefore, it is easy for Clanmates to question his loyalty, for Mistpelt seems to do the least bit possible for RiverClan, while purposefully making the time to fulfill his Socratic lifestyle. Anyone that tries to interrogate Mistpelt will leave with more questions than answers. Life has no clear resolution, according to Mistpelt, so one must continuously ask the question... Why? If anyone can talk their way out of anything, it is Mistpelt.
Mistpelt knows how to excuse his sheer laziness but that does not make it any less a part of his personality. He takes pleasure in doing little while simultaneously enjoying a lot. His days consist of intervals of napping and eating with a side of philosophy. He takes pride in being an unorthodox thinker, and he will shamelessly admit he does the bare minimum for his Clan. However, his contributions come in doses of reassurance and a disposition of tranquility. Mistpelt is a gracious soul, albeit lethargic. While he is not a bad warrior overall, no one can deny he lacks motivation. Other cats may compete to become the best warrior or eventual leader, while Mistpelt is content to sleep the day away. Though he knows how to construct interesting conversation, he is indifferent towards Clan politics and gossip. Superficiality and arrogance breed dullness, according to Mistpelt. He hates Gatherings and would trade the offer of an apprentice for an extra fish or two. Overall, he is just a very... eccentric warrior.
history:
No one asks to be born, and when Mistpelt was brought into the world, he seemed to be stunned into silence by the rush of it. Most kits are born mewling loudly and squirming, but Mistpelt merely squeaked once or twice before curling into a deep sleep. At first, his mother, Perchwhisker, thought there was something wrong with him. Unlike his brothers, Mistpelt was quiet and lethargic. It did not occur to her that Mistpelt just... lacked the boundless energy most tomcats possessed. He preferred to be nestled against Perchwhisker's warm belly than out playing with Mudkit and Minnowkit. Mistpelt may have missed out on the gleeful playtime with other kits his age, but that did not rob him of his carefree childhood. Perchwhisker was so occupied by her other rowdy sons, she let Mistpelt get away with murder. However, it was not murder Mistpelt was out for, he simply look naps and daydreamed. He did not talk as much as a kit, for he was trapped in his own imagination, but whenever he did speak, he made others tilt their head. He would ask strange questions and speak of an imaginary friend or two, and not once did he mention anything about becoming a warrior.
When the time finally came for Mistpelt and his brothers to become apprentices, he was less than thrilled. He enjoyed lazing about the nursery, and the idea that he would have to convert to the lifestyle of a warrior in training made his skin crawl. There was no comfort in that! How could he relax when every waking moment would be spent training? It did not help that he was paired with a young warrior named Zinnianose. Though she had a calm disposition and a heartwarming face, Mistpelt was daunted by her compulsions, which included: getting up early, training arduously, and serving the Clan to the best of his ability (all completely normal and rational things for apprentices to do).
Mistpelt's performance as an apprentice was piss-poor at first, mostly because he lacked the motivation to be an apprentice at all. The bare minimum of his efforts were considered sloppy by Zinnianose, and they had a regular "come to Jesus" discussions that usually left Mistpelt feeling like he had just been chewed out and left for dead. Okay, so maybe that was a little dramatic, but Mistpelt hated to be scorned for his carefree nature. He would argue, "it's who I am, and you can't change that," on a regular basis. Mistpelt took more pleasure in ornate conversation than learning the ways of a warrior, but his philosophical tendencies were not appreciated by the older warriors. His thoughts were organic, constantly growing and thriving as he fed them with his glorious imagination, but all RiverClan seemed to want was to make a warrior out of him. His brothers had no trouble and excelled through their training. In fact, they became warriors before he did without qualm.
Though Zinnianose put plenty of effort into Mistpelt, leading a horse to water does not guarantee that they will drink. However, by some miracle from StarClan, Mistpelt passed his training and became a warrior. He was an underwhelming product at best, but he met the standard, the lowest bar he could meet. No one expects much out of Mistpelt, but he makes for intriguing company, at least.
gender: male
age: eighteen moons
clan: riverclan
position: warrior
short description: stocky, long-haired tomcat with silver fur and black tabby markings.
appearance:
The word "unkempt" sums up the majority of Mistpelt's look. His long, thick pelt is a challenge to keep tidy, so he often skips grooming in favor of sleeping or eating. Life's indulgences do not include proper hygiene. Sure, he may smell like a musty old nest, but he makes up for it with his charm... for the most part. As a result of his lack of motivation, Mistpelt looks like a walking rat's nest half the time. His fur sticks out in every other direction like a plasma globe but his perpetual case of bedhead never stopped him from smiling. If he was not a RiverClan cat, the bits of dirt and leaves and twigs would probably be stuck in his pelt for all eternity. Mistpelt would roll into StarClan looking like a matted mess and smile without care. Thankfully, the river water blesses him with an occasional bath. Sometimes, he looks like he picked up every scrap of undergrowth from RiverClan to Mothermouth. If he was not so lazy, Mistpelt may pass as handsome. However, few cats are willing to go to bed with a stinky furball.
Sure, Mistpelt could be handsome, after all, he has the face of a charmer. The sharp angles of his expressions and the proportionate construction of his frame are the makings of a ladykiller, so it is a shame the only thing he enjoys killing is time. His build is typical of a RiverClan tomcat: strong legs for swimming, thick fur to keep him warm after dipping in the river, and a stocky build fueled by nutritious fish. While he is average-looking as far as his build goes, it is his face that wins a few admirers every now and then. Mistpelt has a strong chin, which begets a confident, tough tomcat. His almond-shaped yellow eyes are expressive and bright, perfect for keeping one's attention. With long whiskers and tufted ears, he manages a unique look, similar to that of a purebred Maine Coon--though he really is just another feral tomcat that reeks of fish and sodden fur.
personality:
Waking up without a care in the world, being able to enjoy restless slumber, and enjoying life without worry are the many luxuries Mistpelt relishes. His attitude towards life is as blase as can be. According to him, it is pointless to sweat about the small things, and all he can manage to care about is the big picture. Mistpelt thinks long-term, and when he faces minuscule setbacks, he shrugs them off and goes about his day without second thought. The attention to detail is nonexistent in Mistpelt's yellow eyes; he does not bother to notice how the little things may reshape the present. The butterfly effect does not exist in Mistpelt's world. While some may find his carefree nature admirable, Mistpelt has a bad habit of abusing it. His carefree nature is borderline careless. Mistpelt can excuse his lackadaisical demeanor with the notion that "it doesn't really make a difference," so he sleeps in without breaking a sweat and eats an extra meal or two. In the end, he believes his small shortcomings have little influence on the future. To an extent, he is right, but he finds so much comfort in the thought, he becomes sloppy.
When one can take the time to relax and let their head wander in the clouds all day without care, certain idealistic thoughts come to pass. Mistpelt is not the most intelligent cat around, but his philosophical whimsy is delightfully uncanny. He knows how to be creative, to say the least, and he conjures up some radical thoughts every now and then. After fletcherizing over his thoughts, Mistpelt takes great enjoyment in sharing his beliefs, no matter how unorthodox. Some brush him off as a loon or a heretic, others are enthralled by his ability to brainstorm strange principles about life that are so unlike Clan tradition. Of course, Mistpelt's unwavering composure in the face of calamity and distress lead many to question his sanity. How can a cat always be so... passive? Mistpelt does not have strong emotions towards anything except his personal belief system. Therefore, it is easy for Clanmates to question his loyalty, for Mistpelt seems to do the least bit possible for RiverClan, while purposefully making the time to fulfill his Socratic lifestyle. Anyone that tries to interrogate Mistpelt will leave with more questions than answers. Life has no clear resolution, according to Mistpelt, so one must continuously ask the question... Why? If anyone can talk their way out of anything, it is Mistpelt.
Mistpelt knows how to excuse his sheer laziness but that does not make it any less a part of his personality. He takes pleasure in doing little while simultaneously enjoying a lot. His days consist of intervals of napping and eating with a side of philosophy. He takes pride in being an unorthodox thinker, and he will shamelessly admit he does the bare minimum for his Clan. However, his contributions come in doses of reassurance and a disposition of tranquility. Mistpelt is a gracious soul, albeit lethargic. While he is not a bad warrior overall, no one can deny he lacks motivation. Other cats may compete to become the best warrior or eventual leader, while Mistpelt is content to sleep the day away. Though he knows how to construct interesting conversation, he is indifferent towards Clan politics and gossip. Superficiality and arrogance breed dullness, according to Mistpelt. He hates Gatherings and would trade the offer of an apprentice for an extra fish or two. Overall, he is just a very... eccentric warrior.
history:
No one asks to be born, and when Mistpelt was brought into the world, he seemed to be stunned into silence by the rush of it. Most kits are born mewling loudly and squirming, but Mistpelt merely squeaked once or twice before curling into a deep sleep. At first, his mother, Perchwhisker, thought there was something wrong with him. Unlike his brothers, Mistpelt was quiet and lethargic. It did not occur to her that Mistpelt just... lacked the boundless energy most tomcats possessed. He preferred to be nestled against Perchwhisker's warm belly than out playing with Mudkit and Minnowkit. Mistpelt may have missed out on the gleeful playtime with other kits his age, but that did not rob him of his carefree childhood. Perchwhisker was so occupied by her other rowdy sons, she let Mistpelt get away with murder. However, it was not murder Mistpelt was out for, he simply look naps and daydreamed. He did not talk as much as a kit, for he was trapped in his own imagination, but whenever he did speak, he made others tilt their head. He would ask strange questions and speak of an imaginary friend or two, and not once did he mention anything about becoming a warrior.
When the time finally came for Mistpelt and his brothers to become apprentices, he was less than thrilled. He enjoyed lazing about the nursery, and the idea that he would have to convert to the lifestyle of a warrior in training made his skin crawl. There was no comfort in that! How could he relax when every waking moment would be spent training? It did not help that he was paired with a young warrior named Zinnianose. Though she had a calm disposition and a heartwarming face, Mistpelt was daunted by her compulsions, which included: getting up early, training arduously, and serving the Clan to the best of his ability (all completely normal and rational things for apprentices to do).
Mistpelt's performance as an apprentice was piss-poor at first, mostly because he lacked the motivation to be an apprentice at all. The bare minimum of his efforts were considered sloppy by Zinnianose, and they had a regular "come to Jesus" discussions that usually left Mistpelt feeling like he had just been chewed out and left for dead. Okay, so maybe that was a little dramatic, but Mistpelt hated to be scorned for his carefree nature. He would argue, "it's who I am, and you can't change that," on a regular basis. Mistpelt took more pleasure in ornate conversation than learning the ways of a warrior, but his philosophical tendencies were not appreciated by the older warriors. His thoughts were organic, constantly growing and thriving as he fed them with his glorious imagination, but all RiverClan seemed to want was to make a warrior out of him. His brothers had no trouble and excelled through their training. In fact, they became warriors before he did without qualm.
Though Zinnianose put plenty of effort into Mistpelt, leading a horse to water does not guarantee that they will drink. However, by some miracle from StarClan, Mistpelt passed his training and became a warrior. He was an underwhelming product at best, but he met the standard, the lowest bar he could meet. No one expects much out of Mistpelt, but he makes for intriguing company, at least.
Kuwaki, Edda Rose, Minteh Freshness
