Post by dino on Feb 20, 2017 13:58:45 GMT -5
Username:
Dino
Name:
Twiteflower
Age:
23 moons
Rank:
Warrior
Gender:
Tom
Personality:
Twiteflower is very fragile mentally. He’s a shy and timid cat who’s almost always wary of new people and has trouble speaking to those who aren’t close friends out of fear of messing up and being judged. But even then, if he learns that they aren’t out to hurt him, he’ll treat them like a child. He’s especially caring and loving around kits, as he feels obligated to treat them the way he wished he had been treated. When Twiteflower gets particularly worked up about something he can temporarily lose the ability to speak (though this is easily remedied by changing the topic to something he’s enthusiastic about). As much as he hates to admit it, he has a tendency to get jealous, especially around happy kits or apprentices. When some stimulus triggers him, he tends to break down into a sobbing lump of fur. It’s particularly bad when he can be heard mumbling as it’s rarely ever positive words (some have even made out what sounds like begging).
Despite all this Twiteflower has been known to persevere. If something challenges him he won’t hesitate to try and figure out a solution. If he wasn’t, he likely wouldn’t be around now.
Picture:
Detailed Appearance:
Twiteflower looks little like a ShadowClan cat. In fact, he looks far more like a WindClan cat than anything else. Though still a little on the small side, he’s far taller than most ShadowClan cats. He also has a long, arched muzzle, long legs, and a thin frame. Though it seems that he got his bobbed tail and large ears from his mother.
When it comes to his pelt it’s short and clings close to his body. Dark lynx points decorate his face, legs, and bobbed tail. But his most noticeable feature, by far, is his white markings. It covers the left side of his face and engulfs his left leg as well as his stomach and chest.
History:
If you wanted an example of how not to be a parent, look no further than to those of Twiteflower. A cold, neglectful father exiled from WindClan and an abusive and morose mother in ShadowClan. To put it lightly, Twiteflower had an awful kithood.
Let us start from before the beginning. Asterstorm and Bitternfoot were a pair of fools. A pair of young fools, at that. A pair of young, lovestruck fools who thought that their love rose above the code itself. My, how they couldn’t be more wrong.
It all started snowballing down when when they decided to have kits. It was a simple, yet seemingly effective idea. Just have a litter and say it was a rouge. It would have worked, if the only surviving kit out of a litter of four hadn’t looked quite a lot like a certain WindClan tom and said tom hadn’t admitted to having kits with she-cat in ShadowClan. The uproar created was astounding.
It only got worse from there. Now stripped of his name and Clan, the cat once known as Bitternfoot swore to an already heartbroken Asterstorm that he would never love the cat who ruined his life again. At this, Asterstorm’s sadness changed to rage, a rage she vented onto her single surviving child, Twitekit. She kept her abuse secret, but that didn’t change how disgusting it was. Negligence, fits of anger, insults, placing blame, and other forms of mental, emotional, and physical abuse persisted throughout Twitekit’s kithood. The most common were refusing to feed him, making him sleep in another nest, calling him an ugly, disgusting monster, blaming him for her lost kits and mate, and saying that he would never have a future because of his white markings. And the poor thing believed it was all his fault. It left him with ptsd.
Ridicule didn’t come from just his mother either. Whispers about his markings and heritage followed the unusually white kit. He’d even heard some cats say he was an omen of disaster.
Luckily, Asterstorm was eventually caught in the act and exiled. Saying that Twitekit was happy would be a severe understatement. But even then the kit would need help recovering mentally. The other queens and some cats swore to protect the kit with their lives. The idea that he’s never be anything more than a waste of space still persisted in his head, but as he grew and was treated the idea was pushed further back. After a severe breakdown when the other kits wanted to play mossball with him they realized it was worse than they had first thought.
When Twitekit became Twitepaw, it was clear that he was struggling. His size made it hard for him to be trained properly and his bright white marks in the dark marshes didn’t help either. But much to his surprise, it was cats in other Clans who came to the half-Clan’s aid. Gatherings, for him, became less of a time to learn about others than a time to learn from others. Such an example was a RiverClan apprentice who suggested he slather mud on the white parts of his body. It worked like a charm and the apprentice was thanked profusely.
Roleplay Sample:
The dark brown tom let out a sigh and looked at the playing kits with a heavy-hearted gaze. He hated this feeling. No, he despised it. How could he ever wish such innocent cats to know what it feels like to experience, or live, such awful treatment? He disgusted himself.
Twiteflower stood and padded away, head hanging and staring sullenly towards the ground.
Other:
-Twiteflower suffers from abuse-induced ptsd. Triggers include, but are not limited to, objects being thrown towards him and yelling.
-He also suffers from insomnia. He tends to have nightmares more than most cats and the fear of having another one makes it hard for him to sleep.
Number of Cats:
One dood
Dino
Name:
Twiteflower
Age:
23 moons
Rank:
Warrior
Gender:
Tom
Personality:
Twiteflower is very fragile mentally. He’s a shy and timid cat who’s almost always wary of new people and has trouble speaking to those who aren’t close friends out of fear of messing up and being judged. But even then, if he learns that they aren’t out to hurt him, he’ll treat them like a child. He’s especially caring and loving around kits, as he feels obligated to treat them the way he wished he had been treated. When Twiteflower gets particularly worked up about something he can temporarily lose the ability to speak (though this is easily remedied by changing the topic to something he’s enthusiastic about). As much as he hates to admit it, he has a tendency to get jealous, especially around happy kits or apprentices. When some stimulus triggers him, he tends to break down into a sobbing lump of fur. It’s particularly bad when he can be heard mumbling as it’s rarely ever positive words (some have even made out what sounds like begging).
Despite all this Twiteflower has been known to persevere. If something challenges him he won’t hesitate to try and figure out a solution. If he wasn’t, he likely wouldn’t be around now.
Picture:
Detailed Appearance:
Twiteflower looks little like a ShadowClan cat. In fact, he looks far more like a WindClan cat than anything else. Though still a little on the small side, he’s far taller than most ShadowClan cats. He also has a long, arched muzzle, long legs, and a thin frame. Though it seems that he got his bobbed tail and large ears from his mother.
When it comes to his pelt it’s short and clings close to his body. Dark lynx points decorate his face, legs, and bobbed tail. But his most noticeable feature, by far, is his white markings. It covers the left side of his face and engulfs his left leg as well as his stomach and chest.
History:
If you wanted an example of how not to be a parent, look no further than to those of Twiteflower. A cold, neglectful father exiled from WindClan and an abusive and morose mother in ShadowClan. To put it lightly, Twiteflower had an awful kithood.
Let us start from before the beginning. Asterstorm and Bitternfoot were a pair of fools. A pair of young fools, at that. A pair of young, lovestruck fools who thought that their love rose above the code itself. My, how they couldn’t be more wrong.
It all started snowballing down when when they decided to have kits. It was a simple, yet seemingly effective idea. Just have a litter and say it was a rouge. It would have worked, if the only surviving kit out of a litter of four hadn’t looked quite a lot like a certain WindClan tom and said tom hadn’t admitted to having kits with she-cat in ShadowClan. The uproar created was astounding.
It only got worse from there. Now stripped of his name and Clan, the cat once known as Bitternfoot swore to an already heartbroken Asterstorm that he would never love the cat who ruined his life again. At this, Asterstorm’s sadness changed to rage, a rage she vented onto her single surviving child, Twitekit. She kept her abuse secret, but that didn’t change how disgusting it was. Negligence, fits of anger, insults, placing blame, and other forms of mental, emotional, and physical abuse persisted throughout Twitekit’s kithood. The most common were refusing to feed him, making him sleep in another nest, calling him an ugly, disgusting monster, blaming him for her lost kits and mate, and saying that he would never have a future because of his white markings. And the poor thing believed it was all his fault. It left him with ptsd.
Ridicule didn’t come from just his mother either. Whispers about his markings and heritage followed the unusually white kit. He’d even heard some cats say he was an omen of disaster.
Luckily, Asterstorm was eventually caught in the act and exiled. Saying that Twitekit was happy would be a severe understatement. But even then the kit would need help recovering mentally. The other queens and some cats swore to protect the kit with their lives. The idea that he’s never be anything more than a waste of space still persisted in his head, but as he grew and was treated the idea was pushed further back. After a severe breakdown when the other kits wanted to play mossball with him they realized it was worse than they had first thought.
When Twitekit became Twitepaw, it was clear that he was struggling. His size made it hard for him to be trained properly and his bright white marks in the dark marshes didn’t help either. But much to his surprise, it was cats in other Clans who came to the half-Clan’s aid. Gatherings, for him, became less of a time to learn about others than a time to learn from others. Such an example was a RiverClan apprentice who suggested he slather mud on the white parts of his body. It worked like a charm and the apprentice was thanked profusely.
Roleplay Sample:
The dark brown tom let out a sigh and looked at the playing kits with a heavy-hearted gaze. He hated this feeling. No, he despised it. How could he ever wish such innocent cats to know what it feels like to experience, or live, such awful treatment? He disgusted himself.
Twiteflower stood and padded away, head hanging and staring sullenly towards the ground.
Other:
-Twiteflower suffers from abuse-induced ptsd. Triggers include, but are not limited to, objects being thrown towards him and yelling.
-He also suffers from insomnia. He tends to have nightmares more than most cats and the fear of having another one makes it hard for him to sleep.
Number of Cats:
One dood
