Post by Tiger's Eye on Jul 26, 2007 16:54:55 GMT -5
Name
Blackmist
Age
51 Moons
Gender
Male
Position
Medicine Cat
Clan
NightClan
Appearance
[.][x][.]We dance round in a ring and suppose, while the secret sits in the middle and knows.[.][x][.]
Known to be a lean and lithe figure, rather than a specimen of bulky muscle, Blackmist was perhaps never suited for the Warrior’s life and battling. He certainly possesses little of the massive bulk that most other Warriors are renowned for, but his limbs and body are long and thin, lending to his stealthy and deceptively silent ways. He is infamous for skulking around the NightClan camp, usually unnoticed by any of the cats in his immediate vicinity. He has been called “weak” and “useless” by many a larger cat in his kithood and early Apprentice days, but though there may be no muscle built upon his body, his slender physique comes in handy, especially when he wishes to slip through the camp unnoticed. It can also be said that he possesses a sort of quiet grace to his figure -- he moves as effortlessly as a shadow.
His pelt is a black and dark brown tortoiseshell pattern -- this color of pelt helps him to disappear into shadows and darkness very well, and as NightClan is well-known for its convoluted and shadowy territory, Blackmist was born to belong in such a Clan. His fur is short-haired and a bit rough to the touch, but he keeps himself groomed and presentable-looking, so there is hardly ever a stray twig or bramble caught in this particular cat’s fur.
His paws are not large or overbearing, and his touch - though one might not think from looking at this tom - is quite gentle when treating other cats.
Blackmist’s eyes have perhaps always been his most defining feature, when an impressive physique and a unique pelt color had eluded his genetics. They are a dark, intense brown when in shadows, but a shade of amber when in sunlight. In his eyes, Blackmist’s thoughts and personal feelings are displayed for the world. The tom never really mastered the art of keeping his emotions under lock-and-key, and if ever one wishes to see what this cat is thinking, a quick glance to his eyes will put a stop to all questions and misgivings.
Personality
Blackmist is, for lack of a better term, an odd fellow. Many a NightClan cat has remarked upon his strange ways and his constant silence in his observations. He always seems to be searching for something among the cats, but whatever it is he hunts for, it’s quite clear that he has not located it as of yet, for his observations continue all the same. The NightClan cats have gotten used to Blackmist’s silent ways, and have grown to accept the fact that no matter what part of the camp they may be in, it’s a sure chance that Blackmist is there and watching.
He is by no means anti-social; none in NightClan are truly frightened of him, and they have no reason to be. Blackmist is up and about the camp often, and a cat may feel free to approach him for any reason. If, however, they do find themselves in a conversation with him, it becomes increasingly evident that they are doing most of the mewing, and Blackmist, the bulk of the listening.
Blackmist is just that though -- a listener, and it is what he is best at. He takes great strides to know what is going on within the Clan -- any secrets that might be circulating within the Clan, Blackmist knows about. He has a great amount of other cats’ secrets stored up within. However, he has next to no secrets of his own. If truth be told, secrets of his own frighten Blackmist. While he can live with the burden of a whole Clan’s petty secrets, he cannot withstand holding any of his own. A personality defect, maybe? Either way, Blackmist has never been able to keep a secret of his own - or indeed, a secret that affects him in any way - walled up inside.
Perhaps it is a good thing then, that he has three exceedingly trustworthy friends within NightClan -- none other than Squallstar, the Leader; Hawkeye, a good friend since kithood; and Smokefrost, his brother and a trusted friend as well. Blackmist may not openly admit that he depends on their consultation and conversation to keep him sane, but he is exceedingly grateful for their presence.
It is no secret, naturally, that Blackmist regards many of the NightClan cats with some measure of distaste, particularly the younger and more frivolous ones. He cannot fathom how they can go on and on about such petty things, and since his pastime is observing the camp and the cats within it, he knows most everything there is to know about them. True, Blackmist can come off as a bit of an “elitist” and he considers his intelligence far superior to many of the cats within the camp. This does not means that he hates any cat in the Clan, to be sure, but there are a choice few that he would prefer not to be caught in a conversation with. He values all NightClan cats and the potential that they bring to the Clan -- he just wishes they would get better conversation topics!
Despite all this, Blackmist has a fair heart lurking beneath his odd façade, and there are cats in NightClan who will testify to this. He possesses a strong sense of justice and what’s right. Never in his life has he condemned a cat who was on the right side of integrity; then again, never in his life has he ever had the pressure of doling out the law to any cat. That is most often the Leader’s burden to bear.
He has proved himself to be rather cynical, with a sharp tongue always at the ready, and even a sly smirk which can be found upon his face often. A sense of humor resides beneath his sharp gaze, despite what other cats may think when glancing at him for the first time.
His tongue might be sharp, but Blackmist can be very placid when treating his Clancats. He is aware of what his duty to his Clan is and does not take it for granted. Healing is what he was born to do, and any cat treated by him cannot deny that his knowledge in such is wise and his touch gentle.
Blackmist holds a solemn adulation for StarClan. He takes their words and messages very seriously, and a warning to any cat that may dismiss StarClan as a silly notion or take its power for granted. There is not anything else in the world that Blackmist believes in so fiercely.
History
Blackmist was one of a litter of three, and born from a difficult birthing to Coalfoot and Raggedclaw -- two of the most prominent Warriors in NightClan at the time. His mother, the noble Coalfoot, was getting on in her moons, and it had perhaps not been the best choice to mate and kit at such an age, especially since kitting at older ages had proved deadly in their family lineage. Despite this, StarClan must have been watching over their birth, for Blackkit, Smokekit, and Cloverkit were born into the world that night, and Coalfoot did not suffer death from the birthing, though it had been a particularly painful and unpleasant one.
All was not well, however, for one of the three sickened and died before five moonrises had passed; Cloverkit would never make it to apprentice-hood or Warrior-hood. Her death was before Blackmist’s conscious memories, but he has been told that she was a sickly little thing, and that none of the Clan believed her able to survive.
Despite the death of a sibling, life went on, and Blackkit and Smokekit were soon prominent in the Nursery as the rowdiest of the kits. Blackkit would watch quietly and wait for an opportune moment in which to cause havoc and inform Smokekit. Smokekit, with his much larger bulk and strength, would be the chief cause of all the ruckus in the Nursery, whether it be pouncing on other unsuspecting kits or seizing a chance to escape and stumble around the camp for as long as they could. Without Blackkit’s keen eyes though, none of the acts of mischief could be achieved, and without Smokekit’s strength, Blackkit’s observations might as well be confided to the wind -- the two worked together and neither could achieve anything without the other’s “talents.” This would prove to be a valuable connection in times to come, when their talents would be needed for things other than Nursery tomfoolery.
As their first couple of moons passed, Blackkit began to realize a conscious difference between himself and the other kits within the Nursery. Now that they were getting older, and their apprenticing was looming before them, the kits had developed a taste for picking fights with one another and seeing who would come out triumphant in battles. Smokekit loved these mock battles, and he came out the winner on many occasions. Blackkit, however, noting his gangly limbs and thin physique, and comparing himself to the bulkier and bigger kits, deigned to withdraw himself from battles and refused to participate. He simply couldn’t understand what the novelty was in scratching each other’s fur out and baring their little kit teeth at one another. It didn’t seem fun or interesting to him at all. Of course, Blackkit was made the brunt of much bullying from thence forward, as his refusal to battle was looked on as a sign of weakness. “Blackkit couldn’t take down a mouse, even if he wanted to.”
[/i]Blackmist
Age
51 Moons
Gender
Male
Position
Medicine Cat
Clan
NightClan
Appearance
[.][x][.]We dance round in a ring and suppose, while the secret sits in the middle and knows.[.][x][.]
Known to be a lean and lithe figure, rather than a specimen of bulky muscle, Blackmist was perhaps never suited for the Warrior’s life and battling. He certainly possesses little of the massive bulk that most other Warriors are renowned for, but his limbs and body are long and thin, lending to his stealthy and deceptively silent ways. He is infamous for skulking around the NightClan camp, usually unnoticed by any of the cats in his immediate vicinity. He has been called “weak” and “useless” by many a larger cat in his kithood and early Apprentice days, but though there may be no muscle built upon his body, his slender physique comes in handy, especially when he wishes to slip through the camp unnoticed. It can also be said that he possesses a sort of quiet grace to his figure -- he moves as effortlessly as a shadow.
His pelt is a black and dark brown tortoiseshell pattern -- this color of pelt helps him to disappear into shadows and darkness very well, and as NightClan is well-known for its convoluted and shadowy territory, Blackmist was born to belong in such a Clan. His fur is short-haired and a bit rough to the touch, but he keeps himself groomed and presentable-looking, so there is hardly ever a stray twig or bramble caught in this particular cat’s fur.
His paws are not large or overbearing, and his touch - though one might not think from looking at this tom - is quite gentle when treating other cats.
Blackmist’s eyes have perhaps always been his most defining feature, when an impressive physique and a unique pelt color had eluded his genetics. They are a dark, intense brown when in shadows, but a shade of amber when in sunlight. In his eyes, Blackmist’s thoughts and personal feelings are displayed for the world. The tom never really mastered the art of keeping his emotions under lock-and-key, and if ever one wishes to see what this cat is thinking, a quick glance to his eyes will put a stop to all questions and misgivings.
Personality
Blackmist is, for lack of a better term, an odd fellow. Many a NightClan cat has remarked upon his strange ways and his constant silence in his observations. He always seems to be searching for something among the cats, but whatever it is he hunts for, it’s quite clear that he has not located it as of yet, for his observations continue all the same. The NightClan cats have gotten used to Blackmist’s silent ways, and have grown to accept the fact that no matter what part of the camp they may be in, it’s a sure chance that Blackmist is there and watching.
He is by no means anti-social; none in NightClan are truly frightened of him, and they have no reason to be. Blackmist is up and about the camp often, and a cat may feel free to approach him for any reason. If, however, they do find themselves in a conversation with him, it becomes increasingly evident that they are doing most of the mewing, and Blackmist, the bulk of the listening.
Blackmist is just that though -- a listener, and it is what he is best at. He takes great strides to know what is going on within the Clan -- any secrets that might be circulating within the Clan, Blackmist knows about. He has a great amount of other cats’ secrets stored up within. However, he has next to no secrets of his own. If truth be told, secrets of his own frighten Blackmist. While he can live with the burden of a whole Clan’s petty secrets, he cannot withstand holding any of his own. A personality defect, maybe? Either way, Blackmist has never been able to keep a secret of his own - or indeed, a secret that affects him in any way - walled up inside.
Perhaps it is a good thing then, that he has three exceedingly trustworthy friends within NightClan -- none other than Squallstar, the Leader; Hawkeye, a good friend since kithood; and Smokefrost, his brother and a trusted friend as well. Blackmist may not openly admit that he depends on their consultation and conversation to keep him sane, but he is exceedingly grateful for their presence.
It is no secret, naturally, that Blackmist regards many of the NightClan cats with some measure of distaste, particularly the younger and more frivolous ones. He cannot fathom how they can go on and on about such petty things, and since his pastime is observing the camp and the cats within it, he knows most everything there is to know about them. True, Blackmist can come off as a bit of an “elitist” and he considers his intelligence far superior to many of the cats within the camp. This does not means that he hates any cat in the Clan, to be sure, but there are a choice few that he would prefer not to be caught in a conversation with. He values all NightClan cats and the potential that they bring to the Clan -- he just wishes they would get better conversation topics!
Despite all this, Blackmist has a fair heart lurking beneath his odd façade, and there are cats in NightClan who will testify to this. He possesses a strong sense of justice and what’s right. Never in his life has he condemned a cat who was on the right side of integrity; then again, never in his life has he ever had the pressure of doling out the law to any cat. That is most often the Leader’s burden to bear.
He has proved himself to be rather cynical, with a sharp tongue always at the ready, and even a sly smirk which can be found upon his face often. A sense of humor resides beneath his sharp gaze, despite what other cats may think when glancing at him for the first time.
His tongue might be sharp, but Blackmist can be very placid when treating his Clancats. He is aware of what his duty to his Clan is and does not take it for granted. Healing is what he was born to do, and any cat treated by him cannot deny that his knowledge in such is wise and his touch gentle.
Blackmist holds a solemn adulation for StarClan. He takes their words and messages very seriously, and a warning to any cat that may dismiss StarClan as a silly notion or take its power for granted. There is not anything else in the world that Blackmist believes in so fiercely.
History
Blackmist was one of a litter of three, and born from a difficult birthing to Coalfoot and Raggedclaw -- two of the most prominent Warriors in NightClan at the time. His mother, the noble Coalfoot, was getting on in her moons, and it had perhaps not been the best choice to mate and kit at such an age, especially since kitting at older ages had proved deadly in their family lineage. Despite this, StarClan must have been watching over their birth, for Blackkit, Smokekit, and Cloverkit were born into the world that night, and Coalfoot did not suffer death from the birthing, though it had been a particularly painful and unpleasant one.
All was not well, however, for one of the three sickened and died before five moonrises had passed; Cloverkit would never make it to apprentice-hood or Warrior-hood. Her death was before Blackmist’s conscious memories, but he has been told that she was a sickly little thing, and that none of the Clan believed her able to survive.
Despite the death of a sibling, life went on, and Blackkit and Smokekit were soon prominent in the Nursery as the rowdiest of the kits. Blackkit would watch quietly and wait for an opportune moment in which to cause havoc and inform Smokekit. Smokekit, with his much larger bulk and strength, would be the chief cause of all the ruckus in the Nursery, whether it be pouncing on other unsuspecting kits or seizing a chance to escape and stumble around the camp for as long as they could. Without Blackkit’s keen eyes though, none of the acts of mischief could be achieved, and without Smokekit’s strength, Blackkit’s observations might as well be confided to the wind -- the two worked together and neither could achieve anything without the other’s “talents.” This would prove to be a valuable connection in times to come, when their talents would be needed for things other than Nursery tomfoolery.
As their first couple of moons passed, Blackkit began to realize a conscious difference between himself and the other kits within the Nursery. Now that they were getting older, and their apprenticing was looming before them, the kits had developed a taste for picking fights with one another and seeing who would come out triumphant in battles. Smokekit loved these mock battles, and he came out the winner on many occasions. Blackkit, however, noting his gangly limbs and thin physique, and comparing himself to the bulkier and bigger kits, deigned to withdraw himself from battles and refused to participate. He simply couldn’t understand what the novelty was in scratching each other’s fur out and baring their little kit teeth at one another. It didn’t seem fun or interesting to him at all. Of course, Blackkit was made the brunt of much bullying from thence forward, as his refusal to battle was looked on as a sign of weakness. “Blackkit couldn’t take down a mouse, even if he wanted to.”
Smokekit stood up for his brother valiantly, and even attempted to persuade Blackkit to enter into the battles, just so he would be accepted. Blackkit didn’t care though -- he refused to conform to their ideals of strength and as far as he was concerned, if these kits valued such a barbarous pastime, then Blackkit wanted nothing more to do with them. Smokekit realized that there was nothing that could be done to persuade his brother to come join them, so he soon gave up and continued to play the friend to both sides.
There was one other kit within the Nursery, who did not pick on Blackkit or shower him with disdain. His name was Hawkkit, and he was the kit of Coalfoot’s best friend, Thundersnap. Naturally, the relationship between these two was encouraged, but their mothers’ urging had little to do with the friendship that inevitably developed between Blackkit and Hawkkit.
** ** **
Time passed swiftly onwards, and though Blackkit may have preferred this moment to never arrive, arrive it did. The time had come for Blackkit and Smokekit to be apprenticed, and they became Blackpaw and Smokepaw. Blackpaw’s Mentor was Crimsontail - a rather harsh and disdainful Warrior she-cat, who expected much out of the apprentices she trained, and who soon grew exasperated with Blackpaw’s continuing inability to learn even the simplest of battling skills. He was awkward and clumsy too, as he had not yet grown into those long limbs of his. Hunting was a nightmare, for the apprentice crashed and stumbled about to cause such a clamor as would wake the dead. Crimsontail only pushed down harder on Blackpaw’s training, and Blackpaw - responding ill to this kind of tough discipline - only grew worse. Blackpaw developed a strong hatred for this kind of lifestyle, and began shirking his duties and training. Smokepaw and Hawkpaw, who were both enjoying their training, could not understand why Blackpaw was having such a hard time of it, and continued to try to bolster their friend’s spirits with encouraging words. It did little to help though, and Blackpaw would still do everything in his power to postpone yet another training session with Crimsontail.
Losing hope in the wayward apprentice, Crimsontail approached the then leader, Dogstar, with her quandary. Dogstar had little dealt with the problem of an unwilling apprentice -- the last one had been seasons and seasons ago. Something had to be done with Blackpaw, and it was clear that he refused to learn the Warrior’s way of life, and would perhaps continue to refuse until his dying day. So it was that Whisperbelle, the young Medicine Cat at the time, quietly requested to take Blackpaw as her own apprentice. She had noted upon Blackpaw’s intelligence and sharpness, even if he had refused to learn the Warrior’s way, and she had high hopes that perhaps this unwilling Warrior would instead become a Medicine Cat apprentice to her. It was about time that another cat in NightClan was bestowed with the knowledge of healing.
The idea of becoming a Medicine Cat apprentice intrigued Blackpaw. He realized that he would enjoy the lifestyle of gathering herbs, healing, and instilling wisdom upon others far more than the brutal Warrior’s lifestyle, and he accepted the position readily. And besides, anything was better than being a Warrior’s apprentice! Blackpaw was relinquished from his Warrior apprentice duties, and he was taken under the wings of Whisperbelle and StarClan.
Blackpaw's training as a Medicine Cat for NightClan commenced.
** ** **
Things were going well for Blackpaw. Whisperbelle had been correct when she noticed Blackpaw’s cleverness, for the young apprentice was indeed sharp -- sharper than most others his age. He also had a natural affinity for herbs and picked up on their uses quickly. He had a never-ending thirst to learn more and more about this and that -- so much, that Whisperbelle admitted that she had not yet learned some of the questions that he soon began to ask.
It was not long before Blackpaw began to grow a bit frustrated. He liked Whisperbelle and her kind and caring ways, he really did, but he couldn’t help thinking that she didn’t have quite as much devotion to her position as she let others in the Clan think, and didn't StarClan deserve undivided attention and fidelity?
At times, Whisperbelle's mind seemed to be elsewhere, and sometimes he caught himself correcting her when they were both mixing herbs together in the Medicine Cat Den. This absent-mindedness only grew worse with more time, and Blackpaw began to despair in ever learning more from the she-cat. He began to wander off by himself through NightClan territories, learning the new herbs and their uses by himself and from the Elders, while Whisperbelle went off in differing directions -- to do what, Blackpaw wasn't sure... but certainly not to collect herbs, for he himself always traveled to those particular spots, and only a few times did he ever see her there. It was only after several more moons of this odd behavior had passed that Blackpaw began to suspect dishonesty afoot.
Despite Blackpaw’s newfound suspicions for Whisperbelle, however, there was little he could do about it. Whenever the subject of her frequent absences came up in conversation, she grew distant and unresponsive. Blackpaw soon gave up entirely in ever figuring out the mysterious behind his mentor, and instead busied himself by continuing his studies in becoming a Medicine Cat, and making sure he had all the tools he needed to be a fantastic healer one day.
** ** **
During some days – when the Medicine Den was fully stocked with herbs and Whisperbelle was off on her mysterious rendezvous, there was little else for Blackpaw to do aside from roam about the Camp, and with all his peers normally off with their Warrior training, Blackpaw really had no one to talk to, aside from the occasional polite conversation with an Elder or Queen.
There was, however, one other young cat who wandered the Camp during the day-time as well. He was several moons older than Blackpaw, and they had never before conversed. His name, at the time, was Squallpaw – an Apprentice well into his training, and certainly bound to become a Warrior any moon now. His mentor was Dogstar herself – she had a unique way of training apprentices, and held training sessions during the night most of the time, instead of during day-light. Squallpaw and Blackpaw were as different as could be, yet for some reason, once they became aware of their similar predicaments, a fast friendship was sprung, and Blackpaw had something else to, thankfully, take his mind off of Whisperbelle or Medicine Cat duties.
- TO BE MODIFIED -
Extras[/u]
Mate:
None
Kits:
None
Friends:
Squallstar; NightClan Leader - alive
Hawkeye; NightClan Warrior - alive
Enemies:
None, for now
Family:
Raggedclaw; Father; NightClan Warrior - deceased
Coalfoot; Mother; Senior NightClan Warrior - alive
Smokefrost; Brother; NightClan Warrior - alive
Cloverkit; Sister; NightClan Kit - deceased
Other
I like the fact that Blackmist can’t keep a secret of his own and that he needs to confide in someone or he might go mad. It would be a bleeding shame if he had to keep a secret that would be dangerous if leaked to anyone else.
;; A mini-plot might be in the works, if only for character growth or something. I’m still not quite sure, but the idea is there and floating around. SO I THOUGHT I’D LET YOU ALL KNOW. <3IC
- TO BE MODIFIED -
Codewords
Blade, Feline
[/size][/center]
