Alias: Mow
Birth-name: ???
Gender: Male.
Birthday & Age: Born some time in Spring, he’s now 5 years.
Race: Kelvic // Leopard-like cat
Height: 6’6 when he stands straight.
Weight: 161 lbs
Job: N/A
-----Appearance--- :
Build: Due to his breed he’s built lithe and willowy, muscled only where necessary. A natural predator. Small, sharp curves of muscle are visible under his skin, working collectively as he moves. When he leans back you can see the line of ribs pushing against his chest. Everything about him is slim, but very, very sturdy.
Stance: He has something of designer slouch going on. A cocky, uncaring lurch, shoulders crooked, legs bowed, stomach curled, nearly practiced and perfected. When this stance is set into motion it moves like it owns the place-- a confident, firm stride, with an almost playful skip to it.
Skin: Is mourning the deep sienna tan it should have had. He spends most of his time in animal form so his naked skin rarely sees the sun.
Hair: The roots are a deep dark mahogany, but where it meets the light becomes tousled with dirty blondes, warm coppers and general autumnal shades, the same typical variation his other forms fur shows. He last had the sides lopped short and the fringe kept for him. Nothing too styled, just something that looks good with curls and takes minimal upkeep.
It’s outgrown a touch since, understandably.
It grows not only from his scalp, but sprouts just as thickly from the back of his neck and the very tops of his shoulders too. Not unlike a mane.
Head: He has a mostly slender face, with slender features, a shaped brow, crescent eyes etc and high, wide cheekbones. In this sense he’s a typical tom cat, scrawny as anything, but with a big head.
His nose is crooked at the top from a bad break in his childhood, lips are thin, but shapely, usually a bit cracked and torn, has crooked, yellowing fangs, speckled gums and a sharply textured tongue that stays with him in both forms.
Another interesting thing is all the little scars across his nose and eyes, usually from territorial fights; they’re another something that stays with him when he changes. Even his ears have whole chunks missing.
Keeps himself clean shaven in human form whenever he has the chance, if only to honour his old mistress.
Eyes: Both exotically shaped and coloured.
They burn a similar hue to freshly minted pennies, the colours all looped and struck through with rusty shades and bright squiggles like they came wrapped with copper wiring, but worn and sunken with age
Hands and feet: He has strong hands, working hands. Nails gnawed down to the wick, skin speckled with scars and dirt spots, mapped with veins and marked with chicken scratches, without rings or distractions, well defined, shabbily built and as long as they are fascinating.
His wrists and ankles are no better, scratched and scarred to hell and back.
Clothes: None given a moments choice. He’ll wear whatever he’s given if he absolutely has to.
Stance: He has something of designer slouch going on. A cocky, uncaring lurch, shoulders crooked, legs bowed, stomach curled, nearly practiced and perfected. When this stance is set into motion it moves like it owns the place-- a confident, firm stride, with an almost playful skip to it.
Skin: Is mourning the deep sienna tan it should have had. He spends most of his time in animal form so his naked skin rarely sees the sun.
Hair: The roots are a deep dark mahogany, but where it meets the light becomes tousled with dirty blondes, warm coppers and general autumnal shades, the same typical variation his other forms fur shows. He last had the sides lopped short and the fringe kept for him. Nothing too styled, just something that looks good with curls and takes minimal upkeep.
It’s outgrown a touch since, understandably.
It grows not only from his scalp, but sprouts just as thickly from the back of his neck and the very tops of his shoulders too. Not unlike a mane.
Head: He has a mostly slender face, with slender features, a shaped brow, crescent eyes etc and high, wide cheekbones. In this sense he’s a typical tom cat, scrawny as anything, but with a big head.
His nose is crooked at the top from a bad break in his childhood, lips are thin, but shapely, usually a bit cracked and torn, has crooked, yellowing fangs, speckled gums and a sharply textured tongue that stays with him in both forms.
Another interesting thing is all the little scars across his nose and eyes, usually from territorial fights; they’re another something that stays with him when he changes. Even his ears have whole chunks missing.
Keeps himself clean shaven in human form whenever he has the chance, if only to honour his old mistress.
Eyes: Both exotically shaped and coloured.
They burn a similar hue to freshly minted pennies, the colours all looped and struck through with rusty shades and bright squiggles like they came wrapped with copper wiring, but worn and sunken with age
Hands and feet: He has strong hands, working hands. Nails gnawed down to the wick, skin speckled with scars and dirt spots, mapped with veins and marked with chicken scratches, without rings or distractions, well defined, shabbily built and as long as they are fascinating.
His wrists and ankles are no better, scratched and scarred to hell and back.
Clothes: None given a moments choice. He’ll wear whatever he’s given if he absolutely has to.
-----Other---- :
Voice: Has a vocal range between self satisfied purrs and sulky, dry whines and a voice as rich as rich and rough as fur. Mow was taught exceedingly well and growing up in a travelling environment, his accent is nothing short of wavering and implacable, his pronunciations change like minds, influenced by far too many places and too many moods.
It’s basically hand tailored, a pic’n’mix of all his favourites, his odd memory clinging on to details wonderfully, regurgitating them is no issue.
Living Relations: N/A He doesn’t know.
Motivations: Loneliness and need for companionship.
It’s basically hand tailored, a pic’n’mix of all his favourites, his odd memory clinging on to details wonderfully, regurgitating them is no issue.
Living Relations: N/A He doesn’t know.
Motivations: Loneliness and need for companionship.
---------- Character Concept----------- :
He is a showcase pet and isn’t good for much more than that. He’s an exotic looking feline, can do tricks and is absolutely charming, that is, when he wants to be. Like any cat, Mow’s backwards in sentiment, very stubborn, likes to feel superior, seems to never go to the people that want him there and has little or no time for anyone else. He’s a defender by nature and will valiantly look after anyone he latches to.
-------- History----- :
He is the cardboard box kitten creed.
As a kit he was stolen, his mother most likely hunted for her fur—she was too old to make any real money in the slave market—and he was naturally bagged and sold on as an exotic curiosity.
He remembers neither his mother nor his place a birth. The only contact he’s ever had with his own lonely kin is with other “pets”. This has never really bothered him, he’s never known different.
Mow was purchased by a rich, travelling human, as when he thought would be a wise choice of pet and comrades for his teenage daughter. The girl had never found life lonely as a child, but often children never do, content with the company of their parents. As she matured she found herself longing a more stable life and pleasure of long term friends, someone to talk to asides her Nanny.
It was an issue that vexed her old man.
Then one day, ploughing his way through the crowds of a less than favourable market he spots something fascinating! A Kelvic kit, an exotic breed at that! The squirming little feline even came with a collar to keep him in cat form if needed.
Needless to say, the old fool paid for him and had Mow delivered straight home all in bells and ribbons.
Mow (named after the first few noises he ever made) happily took on the role of being a pet and guardian to the girl, curling up next to her at night, purring to keep her cheerful on miserable days, he even learnt tricks to perform if she ever asked him to.
He was a showcase pet ... at least to begin with.
Thing is Kelvic’s get big very, very quickly, they also turn to a humanoid form and well, he lived to serve his mistresses, ‘nough said. The story’s the usual one; daddy finds out and is not the slightest bit happy, so in order to avoid having her beloved pet and lover skinned alive and worn for coats she sends him away. She dropped him back off into the wild and ordered him to never return.
Since then he’s been living a cat’s life out in the trees, miserable as they come and pining for company.
As a kit he was stolen, his mother most likely hunted for her fur—she was too old to make any real money in the slave market—and he was naturally bagged and sold on as an exotic curiosity.
He remembers neither his mother nor his place a birth. The only contact he’s ever had with his own lonely kin is with other “pets”. This has never really bothered him, he’s never known different.
Mow was purchased by a rich, travelling human, as when he thought would be a wise choice of pet and comrades for his teenage daughter. The girl had never found life lonely as a child, but often children never do, content with the company of their parents. As she matured she found herself longing a more stable life and pleasure of long term friends, someone to talk to asides her Nanny.
It was an issue that vexed her old man.
Then one day, ploughing his way through the crowds of a less than favourable market he spots something fascinating! A Kelvic kit, an exotic breed at that! The squirming little feline even came with a collar to keep him in cat form if needed.
Needless to say, the old fool paid for him and had Mow delivered straight home all in bells and ribbons.
Mow (named after the first few noises he ever made) happily took on the role of being a pet and guardian to the girl, curling up next to her at night, purring to keep her cheerful on miserable days, he even learnt tricks to perform if she ever asked him to.
He was a showcase pet ... at least to begin with.
Thing is Kelvic’s get big very, very quickly, they also turn to a humanoid form and well, he lived to serve his mistresses, ‘nough said. The story’s the usual one; daddy finds out and is not the slightest bit happy, so in order to avoid having her beloved pet and lover skinned alive and worn for coats she sends him away. She dropped him back off into the wild and ordered him to never return.
Since then he’s been living a cat’s life out in the trees, miserable as they come and pining for company.
-------- Personality ---------- :
Pro’s: Fiercely loyal, very grounded, very to the point, quick witted, loving, willing to work, will go any lengths for his master or mistress.
Con’s: Picky, stubborn, mean humoured, contrary, arrogant, prone to favouritism, incredibly jealous, tears up furniture.
Con’s: Picky, stubborn, mean humoured, contrary, arrogant, prone to favouritism, incredibly jealous, tears up furniture.
---------Skills and Lore------- :
Skills:
Climbing: 15
Fishing: 5
Wilderness survival: 10
Hunting: 20 (+10 racial bonus)
Brawling: 10
Languages:
Common: fluent.
A mix of human languages (well travelled): Poor
Climbing: 15
Fishing: 5
Wilderness survival: 10
Hunting: 20 (+10 racial bonus)
Brawling: 10
Languages:
Common: fluent.
A mix of human languages (well travelled): Poor
------ Equipment-------- :
A rough canvas satchel, contains:
A pair of worn and torn slacks for when he turns human, high boots and a loose linen shirt,
Toiletries,
Flint and steel,
A small working knife,
A handful of gold rimmed mizas and gems.
A pair of worn and torn slacks for when he turns human, high boots and a loose linen shirt,
Toiletries,
Flint and steel,
A small working knife,
A handful of gold rimmed mizas and gems.
