Post by Phoenix on Oct 3, 2021 18:17:32 GMT -5
Basics
NAME: wormkit, wormpaw, wormbelly
AGE: thirteen moons
GENDER: male
CLAN: nightclan
RANK: warrior
AGE: thirteen moons
GENDER: male
CLAN: nightclan
RANK: warrior
Identification
Behavior
SONG: tba
LIKES: what everyone else likes
DISLIKES: what everyone else doesn’t like
DETAILED:
LIKES: what everyone else likes
DISLIKES: what everyone else doesn’t like
DETAILED:
Wormbelly is not and never will be enough. He learned that long ago. He is not strong enough, not fast enough, not whole enough to be a warrior anyone would be proud of, nor is he patient or kind or likable enough to amount to anything just by being himself. After all, he’s impatient and petty and irritating and has as much of a spine as his namesake creature, so he makes himself be better and consequently spends a lot of his time doing his best to be something - and someone - he’s not.
The Wormbelly that others know always likes everyone. Every single cat is great (even when they’re not), and they all deserve empathy and kindness (even when they don’t). Be cheerful. Be nice. Be patient. Offer to help. Ask questions. Do what they ask. Be interested in what they have to say. Oh, was that comment too biting? Sorry, didn’t mean that. Take a step back, a deep breath. Remember the best in everyone and forget their worst. Remember to like everyone else all of the time, because he does. So very much. Smile.
(And because those that love others are loved in turn.)
Therefore, the Wormbelly that everyone knows is friendly and agreeable and patient and gracious and everything anyone could want in a warrior - still a shame about the leg, though - and absolutely—
Tired.
He is so very tired. He knows he’s not inherently likable, and he knows that as soon as anyone else learns that, he’ll never have any friends. (And truly, why would anyone care to befriend cat who is, at best, mediocre with a tendency toward passive aggression anyway?) He goes out of his way to be more helpful and more friendly and more everything-he’s-not than comes naturally to him. He lies and hides and makes excuses like a natural, but making the conscious effort to be the exact opposite of himself and constantly worrying about the times when he inevitably slips up (as if one misstep - one rude comment, one passive-aggressive remark - will suddenly make others realize that he isn’t good enough and will bring his house of cards tumbling down around him) is exhausting.
He’s waiting for others to finally catch onto a secret that’s just waiting to be found, one that reveals that he does not belong and that he is not enough, and he can’t decide whether he fears more its discovery or the necessity of carrying on this charade for the rest of his life.
(Is it better to be lonely in a crowd or to be lonely in solitude? The former, or so he tells himself.
Not that he's lonely. He's not lonely. He's fine.)
In reality, Wormbelly’s opinion of himself is influenced far more by what others say about him than any inherent sense of self-worth, and his insecurities find their way into every facet of his life. Sensitive and easily hurt, he often takes the harsh words of others to heart, far more willing to believe the truth in criticism than he is the truth in any compliment someone might feel obligated throw his way. A painful awareness of his own numerous faults combined with a constant fear that others will suddenly decide to abandon him sometimes causes his willingness to bend over backwards for others to backfire. He overcompensates: he tries too hard to be liked, and it is only after everyone has left that he realizes his efforts to be friendly and helpful have crossed the boundary and become annoying.
For all the effort he puts into seeing the best of other cats, Wormbelly is remarkably blind when it comes to identifying his own admirable qualities. The Wormbelly that he hides away has a wry sense of humor and an eye for detail and a preference for the company of a few close friends to that of the entire clan. Though he has a tendency for pettiness and impatience and passive aggressive remarks, he is also far kinder and far more patient than he gives himself credit for. Trustworthy and dependable, he has a large capacity for love but little practice in exercising it on himself. Though he is not a remarkable warrior by any means, his willingness to accept his own mediocrity - and consequent lack of effort to dissuade others of this opinion - often leads him to be underestimated when his unacknowledged streak of cleverness and talent for forethought shine through.
The Wormbelly that others know always likes everyone. Every single cat is great (even when they’re not), and they all deserve empathy and kindness (even when they don’t). Be cheerful. Be nice. Be patient. Offer to help. Ask questions. Do what they ask. Be interested in what they have to say. Oh, was that comment too biting? Sorry, didn’t mean that. Take a step back, a deep breath. Remember the best in everyone and forget their worst. Remember to like everyone else all of the time, because he does. So very much. Smile.
(And because those that love others are loved in turn.)
Therefore, the Wormbelly that everyone knows is friendly and agreeable and patient and gracious and everything anyone could want in a warrior - still a shame about the leg, though - and absolutely—
Tired.
He is so very tired. He knows he’s not inherently likable, and he knows that as soon as anyone else learns that, he’ll never have any friends. (And truly, why would anyone care to befriend cat who is, at best, mediocre with a tendency toward passive aggression anyway?) He goes out of his way to be more helpful and more friendly and more everything-he’s-not than comes naturally to him. He lies and hides and makes excuses like a natural, but making the conscious effort to be the exact opposite of himself and constantly worrying about the times when he inevitably slips up (as if one misstep - one rude comment, one passive-aggressive remark - will suddenly make others realize that he isn’t good enough and will bring his house of cards tumbling down around him) is exhausting.
He’s waiting for others to finally catch onto a secret that’s just waiting to be found, one that reveals that he does not belong and that he is not enough, and he can’t decide whether he fears more its discovery or the necessity of carrying on this charade for the rest of his life.
(Is it better to be lonely in a crowd or to be lonely in solitude? The former, or so he tells himself.
Not that he's lonely. He's not lonely. He's fine.)
In reality, Wormbelly’s opinion of himself is influenced far more by what others say about him than any inherent sense of self-worth, and his insecurities find their way into every facet of his life. Sensitive and easily hurt, he often takes the harsh words of others to heart, far more willing to believe the truth in criticism than he is the truth in any compliment someone might feel obligated throw his way. A painful awareness of his own numerous faults combined with a constant fear that others will suddenly decide to abandon him sometimes causes his willingness to bend over backwards for others to backfire. He overcompensates: he tries too hard to be liked, and it is only after everyone has left that he realizes his efforts to be friendly and helpful have crossed the boundary and become annoying.
For all the effort he puts into seeing the best of other cats, Wormbelly is remarkably blind when it comes to identifying his own admirable qualities. The Wormbelly that he hides away has a wry sense of humor and an eye for detail and a preference for the company of a few close friends to that of the entire clan. Though he has a tendency for pettiness and impatience and passive aggressive remarks, he is also far kinder and far more patient than he gives himself credit for. Trustworthy and dependable, he has a large capacity for love but little practice in exercising it on himself. Though he is not a remarkable warrior by any means, his willingness to accept his own mediocrity - and consequent lack of effort to dissuade others of this opinion - often leads him to be underestimated when his unacknowledged streak of cleverness and talent for forethought shine through.
History
FAMILY
KIT:
APPRENTICE:
WARRIOR:
MOTHERS: patchblossom, whitefrost
FATHER: bumbletuft
SIBLINGS: moth--, midge--, mantis--;marshkit, river--, brook--, lakekit, creek--
FATHER: bumbletuft
SIBLINGS: moth--, midge--, mantis--;
KIT:
part of whitefrost’s litter, cared for by bumbletuft when patchblossom, whitefrost, moth, midge, mantis, and creek had to quarantine due to greencough
Do I destroy his confidence now?
really it's because he's the only "w" name in a litter full of "m" names
Do I destroy his confidence now?
really it's because he's the only "w" name in a litter full of "m" names
APPRENTICE:
or now? Why not both?
earthquake
earthquake
WARRIOR:
unorthodox ceremony, considering he’s living with the tribe