Post by Phoenix on May 12, 2017 22:15:04 GMT -5
Basics
NAME: owlkit, owlpaw, owlstrike
AGE: nine moons
GENDER: male
CLAN: treeclan
RANK: apprentice
AGE: nine moons
GENDER: male
CLAN: treeclan
RANK: apprentice
Identification
PICTURE: source
BRIEF: a lithe dark gray tom with piercing gold eyes
DETAILED:
BRIEF: a lithe dark gray tom with piercing gold eyes
DETAILED:
There has never been any question as to whose blood flows through his veins. While some insist that he looks exactly like his mother, those who know better compare him to his notorious grandfather, and adorned with the same short dark gray fur and intense golden eyes, he is the walking replica of Grayowl. Naturally thin fur on a slender but athletic frame allows him to slip easily into the shadows and disappear. He is, at first glance, perfectly normal and boring. Although he has never met the exiled cat, he moves with the same uncanny precision and elegance, stepping carefully lest he brush too closely against one of the plebeians. Even at such a young age, he knows he has talent, and he does not need to strut like an immature kit to show it; facing the inevitable prejudice with scorn rather than fear, he carries himself in a rather imperious manner that allows the unshakable confidence with which he was born to merely exist around him. Here is a young tom who does not need the world's approval.
Behavior
SONG: red right hand
LIKES: winning his game, his family
DISLIKES: boredom, losing, disrespect
DETAILED:
LIKES: winning his game, his family
DISLIKES: boredom, losing, disrespect
DETAILED:
Given whose blood runs through his veins, Owlpaw is surprisingly boring. Instead of brooding mysteriously in the corner by himself, he smiles and laughs and occasionally plays with the others, and even a blind cat could see the genuine fondness and affection he feels for his family. Always respectful and polite to his superiors, the young tom not only offers steady support for the underdog but also never has a bad word to say about anyone. A smile always seems to be perched on the corner of his lips. He meticulously keeps his gray fur well groomed, and a sharp intelligence shines in those bright golden eyes. He is the perfect apprentice.
Too perfect.
Inexperience has made him craft his façade suspiciously flawless for any with a keen eye and a reason to peer just beneath the thin surface, but on most of his clan, it works like a charm. After all, he learned from the best. Peel back the layers, and the Owlpaw that hides behind the pleasant smile is very different from the one seen by the rest of the world. This hidden Owlpaw feels no attachment to the clan mates whom he has spent his life fastidiously wooing. His world is a stage, his clan mates are the puppets, and he holds their strings. He is their god, and despite all appearances, he is not a kind one. Where some cats specialize in hunting or fighting, he specializes in his peers. Boredom is the enemy, so they become the entertainment.
A penchant for manipulation and games runs through his blood, and he has embraced this legacy whole-heartedly. Early on, he discovered the ease with which he could influence unsuspecting felines – even ones that were moons older than him – so learning how to say the right words at the right time became an intriguing past time. But as such habits have started becoming second nature to him, his game has slowly evolved. No longer is he simply interested in garnering the affections of his peers; instead, he wants to enchant them, to see how long he can toe the line between the forgivable and unforgivable. He wants their humiliation and hatred, and he wants them to, through the tears and the heartache, forgive him for his actions anyway. He thrives off of the power that comes from reducing someone else to their worst, and afterward, when, despite everything, his is the shoulder upon which they lean, he knows that he has won another round. And when they refuse to play the game, he becomes truly dangerous, a spider sitting in the middle of his web and encouraging the fly to rest once more upon his deceptively innocuous silk.
Very adaptable and a natural actor, he has become a chameleon in a fur coat, but beneath the surface, some things remain unchanged. If the suspicious glances from Lionstar and his ilk have taught the young tom anything, it is that TreeClan and its inhabitants will never be the home that it ought to be for him and his siblings. Such distrust from all but blood has placed family above all else, and only those whom he holds closest to his twisted little heart truly deserve and are granted his trust. They are the ones who can glimpse the shaky foundation on which his pride rests, who can watch how his anger at any disrespect – perceived or real – festers like an open wound, unforgettable, until he finds some way of enacting retribution. The high standard to which he holds himself never disappears with the company of others, and though he would never show it, he cannot stand it when anyone bests him at anything.
Too perfect.
Inexperience has made him craft his façade suspiciously flawless for any with a keen eye and a reason to peer just beneath the thin surface, but on most of his clan, it works like a charm. After all, he learned from the best. Peel back the layers, and the Owlpaw that hides behind the pleasant smile is very different from the one seen by the rest of the world. This hidden Owlpaw feels no attachment to the clan mates whom he has spent his life fastidiously wooing. His world is a stage, his clan mates are the puppets, and he holds their strings. He is their god, and despite all appearances, he is not a kind one. Where some cats specialize in hunting or fighting, he specializes in his peers. Boredom is the enemy, so they become the entertainment.
A penchant for manipulation and games runs through his blood, and he has embraced this legacy whole-heartedly. Early on, he discovered the ease with which he could influence unsuspecting felines – even ones that were moons older than him – so learning how to say the right words at the right time became an intriguing past time. But as such habits have started becoming second nature to him, his game has slowly evolved. No longer is he simply interested in garnering the affections of his peers; instead, he wants to enchant them, to see how long he can toe the line between the forgivable and unforgivable. He wants their humiliation and hatred, and he wants them to, through the tears and the heartache, forgive him for his actions anyway. He thrives off of the power that comes from reducing someone else to their worst, and afterward, when, despite everything, his is the shoulder upon which they lean, he knows that he has won another round. And when they refuse to play the game, he becomes truly dangerous, a spider sitting in the middle of his web and encouraging the fly to rest once more upon his deceptively innocuous silk.
Very adaptable and a natural actor, he has become a chameleon in a fur coat, but beneath the surface, some things remain unchanged. If the suspicious glances from Lionstar and his ilk have taught the young tom anything, it is that TreeClan and its inhabitants will never be the home that it ought to be for him and his siblings. Such distrust from all but blood has placed family above all else, and only those whom he holds closest to his twisted little heart truly deserve and are granted his trust. They are the ones who can glimpse the shaky foundation on which his pride rests, who can watch how his anger at any disrespect – perceived or real – festers like an open wound, unforgettable, until he finds some way of enacting retribution. The high standard to which he holds himself never disappears with the company of others, and though he would never show it, he cannot stand it when anyone bests him at anything.
History
FAMILY
KIT:
APPRENTICE:
MOTHER: mockingbird
FATHER: magpiewing
SIBLINGS: ravenpaw, berrypaw
FATHER: magpiewing
SIBLINGS: ravenpaw, berrypaw
KIT:
With parents like his, he was doomed to notoriety from the start. His mother, Mockingbird, is the daughter of the infamous Grayowl, who was exiled for attempted murder, and his father, Magpiewing, wears far more masks than his son, though no one except a select few are aware of it. Of his two siblings, a brother (Berrykit) and sister (Ravenkit), Owlkit takes after their parents the most. He has inherited not only his grandfather’s legacy but also pieces of his temperament. Born with an analytical mind and a keen eye for detail, he spent his days in the nursery studying the world and listening to his mother whisper stories of their family. Though he had been eternally banished from TreeClan territory, Grayowl frequented the nursery at night, prowling through little Owlkit’s imagination, a ghostly gray figure to admire and emulate; Owlkit was, after all, named after him. It did not take long for the young tom to learn that everyone wore a mask – especially his parents. And so, under their watchful eyes, he began to construct some of his own. There were plenty of other kits in the nursery for him to use as models, and before long, he felt comfortable enough in his new skin to put effort toward winning the favor of his peers.
However, where the innocent kits had no qualms warming up to Owlkit, Berrykit, and Ravenkit, some of the other cats maintained a careful distance. Mockingbird had always told them that Lionstar would begrudge them for who their grandfather was, and whenever he felt the prickle of eyes on the back of his neck, he was never surprised to turn and see their golden leader watching from afar. Slowly, the seeds for a budding dislike of TreeClan’s figurehead were planted and carefully cultivated in the young tom’s mind. And, in the first few moons of his life, they grew like weeds.
However, where the innocent kits had no qualms warming up to Owlkit, Berrykit, and Ravenkit, some of the other cats maintained a careful distance. Mockingbird had always told them that Lionstar would begrudge them for who their grandfather was, and whenever he felt the prickle of eyes on the back of his neck, he was never surprised to turn and see their golden leader watching from afar. Slowly, the seeds for a budding dislike of TreeClan’s figurehead were planted and carefully cultivated in the young tom’s mind. And, in the first few moons of his life, they grew like weeds.
APPRENTICE:
Partially expecting Lionstar to hold his litter back out of sheer spite and pettiness, Owlkit was genuinely surprised when he and his two siblings became apprentices, on time, at 6 moons. With every trace of moss meticulously picked from his fur, he received his mentor – a senior warrior named Thornstrike – and soon found himself unsurprisingly disenchanted with the entire system. An “excellent mentor” though he was (Lionstar’s words, not his), the older tom was boring, and if Owlpaw had discovered one trait about himself when he was in the nursery, it was that he detested boredom. Day in and day out, it was talking about the Warrior Code, which was truly nothing more than a list of rules, or some drivel that involved loyalty to TreeClan and/or Lionstar, which, although entirely expected, was still unpleasant to listen to. It was almost a relief, then, when greencough struck and spared Owlpaw three more long moons under the tutelage of the other tom. He was unceremoniously reassigned to Lionstar’s own step-sister, Appleshade, and even though she seems to have a head full of feathers, she, at least, keeps life interesting.
+ Met Grayowl soon after he became an apprentice in a meeting arranged by Mockingbird
+ Berrypaw presumed dead after being dared to explore Demon’s Den
+ Berrypaw returns with Amara
+ Met Grayowl soon after he became an apprentice in a meeting arranged by Mockingbird
+ Berrypaw presumed dead after being dared to explore Demon’s Den
+ Berrypaw returns with Amara