Post by gemini on Jul 30, 2018 11:17:37 GMT -5
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[attr="class","jsmith"]STEP ONE
[attr="class","onetext"]Name Mitchell
Age 52 moons
Gender Male
Clan n/a
Apprentice n/a
Age 52 moons
Gender Male
Clan n/a
Apprentice n/a
[attr="class","mcham"]STEP TWO
[attr="class","twotext"]Personality [ boisterous | determined | adventurous ]
Mitchell is a cat with a particularly boundless type of energy. He’s rarely still, always needing to move around, to be doing something. This is where his tendency to wander far from home comes from. He doesn’t have much of a sense of ‘borders’ meaning 'stop,' although he never actually ‘steals’ anything in terms of food. He just likes to explore, see things, meet new faces, and generally cause some sort of trouble. He’s a chatty thing, rarely being quiet. Even if he isn’t speaking, he’s usually making some kind of noise – humming, usually. He’s also fairly cheerful; he’s a happy-go-lucky kind of tom, who really only wants to have fun out of life.
He’s a determined cat and tends to take ‘well, you can’t do that’ as a challenge in which he will do it. From his start in life, and the things that have happened to him, Mitch has become a cat who can roll, and deal with pretty much anything life may throw at him. He takes things in stride and does pretty much anything he sets his mind to, regardless of if common-sense may dictate that he shouldn’t. In a way, this makes him a strange definition of the phrase, ‘hold my beer.’ There’s simply no telling him that he can’t, especially if one dares to say he can’t because he’s missing a leg. He doesn’t care how many times he has to do it to finally figure out a way that works for him.
Mitch is an adventurous cat, this playing into both his boisterousness and his determined mindset. He wants to see all that the world has to offer and tends to wander rather far from home. It really wouldn’t be a surprise to find him far from the safety of his human’s garden. Borders and boundaries fail to stop him, and his wandering ways.
Strengths Determined, carefree, unphased by most anything.
Weaknesses Sometimes a little too rowdy, wanders a little too much
Goals Live life to the fullest and let no one get him down.
Mitchell is a cat with a particularly boundless type of energy. He’s rarely still, always needing to move around, to be doing something. This is where his tendency to wander far from home comes from. He doesn’t have much of a sense of ‘borders’ meaning 'stop,' although he never actually ‘steals’ anything in terms of food. He just likes to explore, see things, meet new faces, and generally cause some sort of trouble. He’s a chatty thing, rarely being quiet. Even if he isn’t speaking, he’s usually making some kind of noise – humming, usually. He’s also fairly cheerful; he’s a happy-go-lucky kind of tom, who really only wants to have fun out of life.
He’s a determined cat and tends to take ‘well, you can’t do that’ as a challenge in which he will do it. From his start in life, and the things that have happened to him, Mitch has become a cat who can roll, and deal with pretty much anything life may throw at him. He takes things in stride and does pretty much anything he sets his mind to, regardless of if common-sense may dictate that he shouldn’t. In a way, this makes him a strange definition of the phrase, ‘hold my beer.’ There’s simply no telling him that he can’t, especially if one dares to say he can’t because he’s missing a leg. He doesn’t care how many times he has to do it to finally figure out a way that works for him.
Mitch is an adventurous cat, this playing into both his boisterousness and his determined mindset. He wants to see all that the world has to offer and tends to wander rather far from home. It really wouldn’t be a surprise to find him far from the safety of his human’s garden. Borders and boundaries fail to stop him, and his wandering ways.
Strengths Determined, carefree, unphased by most anything.
Weaknesses Sometimes a little too rowdy, wanders a little too much
Goals Live life to the fullest and let no one get him down.
[attr="class","vanice"]STEP THREE
[attr="class","threetext"]
Appearance Mitch is a surprisingly average black tom; his coat is fluffy, and shiny, although there’s often some kind of dirt making it look a little unkempt. He’s a little on the thinner side, but not for lack of food. His face is round. His eyes are wide, and a yellow-green hue, that almost always sparkle with some sort of defiance that dances with a evident curiosity. He’s an expressive cat, He has some scars on his ears from fights.
He moves with a hyper energy that never seems to falter, even after hours of moving around. He’s got a particular attitude to everything he does that’s unapologetically him. He’s simultaneously average, normal, while still being a unique individual. Truly, the only thing that sets him apart is a distinct lack of a right front leg. Part the fur, and you can see a scar curving along the place where one use to be and can even still see his shoulder move as if a ghost of the leg still stays. Mitch’s lack of a leg doesn’t really seem to hinder him though. He’s found a method for most everything that lets him do most things just as good as a four-legged cat. He’s a little slower, but his balance is impressively good.
He has a distinctive way of speaking, that shows that he isn’t originally from the area, his voice having a twang to it that speaks distinctly southern. Ask him where he’s from, and he’ll say he remembers massive lizards with teeth as big as a cat’s head, living in swamps with snakes that choked rather than poisoned, filled with water-going human things with wings that turned in circles rather than flapping.
History Life for Mitchell started off rather typical. His mother was a stray, but his father – according to her – was a house cat of an older human female. Their encounter was short-lived, lasting only a single night before they parted ways, and as far as Mitch knew, had never seen each other again. He did have a sister, Babe, who ended up getting picked up by a human and taken in, by the time that they were around nine moons old. To this day, he remembers going up to one of the windows of the den, and talking to her through a black, hole-filled type of wall that she called a ‘screen.’ The human who picked her up would often chase him off though, thinking that he was simply ‘tom-catting.’
Mitch parted ways with his mother at about twelve moons old, striking out on his own. He did pretty okay for himself, wandering around near a busy hub of humans. He enjoyed walking out into the forest, and more so enjoyed walking to the swamps – the humans there took great joy in his visits. They’d give him their strange food (which, he thought was absolutely delicious), and pet him. They even would put out what some of the other cats told him were called ‘blankets’ for him to lounge on.
At about twenty-two moons, he’d started his usual routine, walking along-side a forest path back into the swamps, going to see his people. It had rained the night before, and the path was particularly muddy and slick. Of course, it wasn’t anything unusual, he’d walked the path hundreds of times after it had rained. He hadn’t, however, seen the small mudslide that had sent him tumbling down towards the water. He remembered very little of the whole thing, outside of blinding pain as something pierced into his leg, and then yanked him up, suspended off of the ground. He remembered being there for a few hours, before hearing a concerned human voice and then hitting the ground.
He remembered waking up several days later in a metal box, his torso bandaged up, his head foggy and his entire body heavy. It took him a while to realize that he had somehow lost a leg. A cat in the box across from him told him that they had brought him in with a massive hook sticking out of his leg, bone protruding, and flesh shredded. The old tom had said that it looked like he’d gotten snatched up in what he’d heard called a ‘gator trap,’ and a particularly nasty one at that. The cat told him that several hours after they’d rushed him through, they’d put him in the box all bandaged up, with the leg gone. He said that the humans must have cut it off, unable to fix it. He’d seen it happen to other animals – a dog that’d been hit by a monster, a cat caught in another trap, another dog who’d been shot by a thunder-stick.
Several moons passed, and Mitch began to get used to his new state of being, bouncing back personality wise to where he’d been before. He remembered one day that a human female had come in, taking several of the cats – including himself, and his friend across the way – from their metal boxes, and shipping them off in a monster with her, and another human.
Days passed slowly, being in a human house. He remembered having a strange little box moved all around him. It’d click, and then flash a bright light. Then, the human lady had attached it with a strange tail to a lightbox. A few days later, she’d become really excited, saying things in their gibberish to him excitedly. His friend told him that she was saying that someone had ‘adopted’ him and that he was going to take a big trip across the ‘ocean.’ Mitch didn’t really know what these things meant, and neither did the other cat, he only knew how to understand their words, but not so much with things that he’d never heard of. He knew that the ‘ocean’ was like a lake but stretched out as far as the eye could see in three directions.
And, at about thirty moons, Mitch was packed into a box with food and water and sent off. They took him to a place that smelled like a road, but with strange, massive monsters that took off into the sky like birds – only without flapping. He was packed into the belly of one, with a few other animals. He knew that it was moving and felt sick when he realized that he was flying in the belly of whatever the beast was. It felt like days passed before the thing landed, and he was unloaded into a new place, with humans who spoke differently from the ones he had grown so accustomed to hearing.
A human male picked him up, packed him into another monster – although this one stayed firmly on the ground – and taken to his den. The human seemed intent on Mitch staying inside for about three moons before he gave up and let him into the garden.
Since then, Mitch has made himself acquainted with the surrounding human hub, and has gained a new mission to meet and learn about the groups of wild cats that he’s heard tale of, that live in the forests beyond.
Appearance Mitch is a surprisingly average black tom; his coat is fluffy, and shiny, although there’s often some kind of dirt making it look a little unkempt. He’s a little on the thinner side, but not for lack of food. His face is round. His eyes are wide, and a yellow-green hue, that almost always sparkle with some sort of defiance that dances with a evident curiosity. He’s an expressive cat, He has some scars on his ears from fights.
He moves with a hyper energy that never seems to falter, even after hours of moving around. He’s got a particular attitude to everything he does that’s unapologetically him. He’s simultaneously average, normal, while still being a unique individual. Truly, the only thing that sets him apart is a distinct lack of a right front leg. Part the fur, and you can see a scar curving along the place where one use to be and can even still see his shoulder move as if a ghost of the leg still stays. Mitch’s lack of a leg doesn’t really seem to hinder him though. He’s found a method for most everything that lets him do most things just as good as a four-legged cat. He’s a little slower, but his balance is impressively good.
He has a distinctive way of speaking, that shows that he isn’t originally from the area, his voice having a twang to it that speaks distinctly southern. Ask him where he’s from, and he’ll say he remembers massive lizards with teeth as big as a cat’s head, living in swamps with snakes that choked rather than poisoned, filled with water-going human things with wings that turned in circles rather than flapping.
History Life for Mitchell started off rather typical. His mother was a stray, but his father – according to her – was a house cat of an older human female. Their encounter was short-lived, lasting only a single night before they parted ways, and as far as Mitch knew, had never seen each other again. He did have a sister, Babe, who ended up getting picked up by a human and taken in, by the time that they were around nine moons old. To this day, he remembers going up to one of the windows of the den, and talking to her through a black, hole-filled type of wall that she called a ‘screen.’ The human who picked her up would often chase him off though, thinking that he was simply ‘tom-catting.’
Mitch parted ways with his mother at about twelve moons old, striking out on his own. He did pretty okay for himself, wandering around near a busy hub of humans. He enjoyed walking out into the forest, and more so enjoyed walking to the swamps – the humans there took great joy in his visits. They’d give him their strange food (which, he thought was absolutely delicious), and pet him. They even would put out what some of the other cats told him were called ‘blankets’ for him to lounge on.
At about twenty-two moons, he’d started his usual routine, walking along-side a forest path back into the swamps, going to see his people. It had rained the night before, and the path was particularly muddy and slick. Of course, it wasn’t anything unusual, he’d walked the path hundreds of times after it had rained. He hadn’t, however, seen the small mudslide that had sent him tumbling down towards the water. He remembered very little of the whole thing, outside of blinding pain as something pierced into his leg, and then yanked him up, suspended off of the ground. He remembered being there for a few hours, before hearing a concerned human voice and then hitting the ground.
He remembered waking up several days later in a metal box, his torso bandaged up, his head foggy and his entire body heavy. It took him a while to realize that he had somehow lost a leg. A cat in the box across from him told him that they had brought him in with a massive hook sticking out of his leg, bone protruding, and flesh shredded. The old tom had said that it looked like he’d gotten snatched up in what he’d heard called a ‘gator trap,’ and a particularly nasty one at that. The cat told him that several hours after they’d rushed him through, they’d put him in the box all bandaged up, with the leg gone. He said that the humans must have cut it off, unable to fix it. He’d seen it happen to other animals – a dog that’d been hit by a monster, a cat caught in another trap, another dog who’d been shot by a thunder-stick.
Several moons passed, and Mitch began to get used to his new state of being, bouncing back personality wise to where he’d been before. He remembered one day that a human female had come in, taking several of the cats – including himself, and his friend across the way – from their metal boxes, and shipping them off in a monster with her, and another human.
Days passed slowly, being in a human house. He remembered having a strange little box moved all around him. It’d click, and then flash a bright light. Then, the human lady had attached it with a strange tail to a lightbox. A few days later, she’d become really excited, saying things in their gibberish to him excitedly. His friend told him that she was saying that someone had ‘adopted’ him and that he was going to take a big trip across the ‘ocean.’ Mitch didn’t really know what these things meant, and neither did the other cat, he only knew how to understand their words, but not so much with things that he’d never heard of. He knew that the ‘ocean’ was like a lake but stretched out as far as the eye could see in three directions.
And, at about thirty moons, Mitch was packed into a box with food and water and sent off. They took him to a place that smelled like a road, but with strange, massive monsters that took off into the sky like birds – only without flapping. He was packed into the belly of one, with a few other animals. He knew that it was moving and felt sick when he realized that he was flying in the belly of whatever the beast was. It felt like days passed before the thing landed, and he was unloaded into a new place, with humans who spoke differently from the ones he had grown so accustomed to hearing.
A human male picked him up, packed him into another monster – although this one stayed firmly on the ground – and taken to his den. The human seemed intent on Mitch staying inside for about three moons before he gave up and let him into the garden.
Since then, Mitch has made himself acquainted with the surrounding human hub, and has gained a new mission to meet and learn about the groups of wild cats that he’s heard tale of, that live in the forests beyond.
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