Post by kaz on Mar 31, 2020 23:47:39 GMT -6
Flintheart
lichenclan
A blue, long-haired tom with green eyes
warrior
Tom
34 moons
Appearance
Flintheart is a more stout and solid than than his brother, but only a little taller as tall, standing at 3 1/4ft. tall. His paws are a bit on the small side, and they move into powerful legs. His legs are pretty evenly built, with muscles in his forelegs being only just noticeable to the observer as stronger. showing his preference for fighting. They round off in slender shoulders. His chest is broad, evenly tapering toward his back, ending with a big bushy tail.
Flintheart has been jealous of Ashfrost before, especially of his shorter fur. His own fur has a tendency to be unmanageable and frizzy, a pet peeve that has caused him great annoyance. His pelt is solid blue, and his hair is long, with a disheveled but impressive mane. When really agitated, his hair will separate and curl, giving the impression that he has a second, barley tangible layer of fur surrounding him. He does his best to keep it clean, but sometimes he just lets it go, deciding to worry about more important things.
Flintheart has been jealous of Ashfrost before, especially of his shorter fur. His own fur has a tendency to be unmanageable and frizzy, a pet peeve that has caused him great annoyance. His pelt is solid blue, and his hair is long, with a disheveled but impressive mane. When really agitated, his hair will separate and curl, giving the impression that he has a second, barley tangible layer of fur surrounding him. He does his best to keep it clean, but sometimes he just lets it go, deciding to worry about more important things.
Personality
Flintheart is an individual who has lived his entire life with eyes watching over him. The eyes of his brother, and mother, the eyes of the leadership, and most importantly to him, the omnipresent eyes of silverpelt, watching down on him silently passing judgement on his every move. He has always seen it this way, but unlike most, he thrives under such scrutiny. The teachings of his leader and mother helped him to see that his ancestors watchful presence wasn't surveillance, but rather, gentle guidance. Ever since he was little, he has been devout to the faith of his clan. All of his decisions are made with his ancestry in mind, and with prayer. To Flintheart, to live without the love of your past family in your soul, is to live without anything at all, and he will spend all day ruminating and reciting to you such musings. To some, it can be seen as annoying, or worse, but this is the driving force behind many things in his life, and the prime motivator in his activity to the clan. He does his best to stay sharp on his hunting and fighting skills, as they are an act of worship, as are the rest of the items of duty. Because of this, he can actually be quite at ease and cheerful when relaxed.
His devoutness also allots some twisted sense of kindness and generosity that applies only to those faithful, and gives him a bit of a moral compass, wrongfully aligned, bit still existing. He is compelled to treat others, at least socially, with respect. He speaks properly and avoids cursing whenever possible.
Flintheart picked up from Ashfrost, a bit of his pragmatism, but applies it in different ways. He always had a sense of how things actually were in the lives of the cats around him, and he tried his best to use that to his advantage, seeing things that could lead to a saved soul that others might not. While the leadership may have their heads rightfully in the silverpelt, Flintheart sees himself as the paws on the ground. His solutions to issues are direct, and are focused only on the result.
Flintheart's holy armor has a few cracks. The most obvious is the dark seed planted by the folly of his own curiosity, and his brother. The more he sought to understand the joy of his faith, the more little bits of doubt appeared. As he grew, so did they, leaving him with the nagging question he can't bear to face. He combats this darkness in him by clinging even more to his faith, to the levels of fanatascism. More than once, he has harmed himself for his sin. And his pragmatic nature has allowed him to harm others for their sins as well.
His devoutness also allots some twisted sense of kindness and generosity that applies only to those faithful, and gives him a bit of a moral compass, wrongfully aligned, bit still existing. He is compelled to treat others, at least socially, with respect. He speaks properly and avoids cursing whenever possible.
Flintheart picked up from Ashfrost, a bit of his pragmatism, but applies it in different ways. He always had a sense of how things actually were in the lives of the cats around him, and he tried his best to use that to his advantage, seeing things that could lead to a saved soul that others might not. While the leadership may have their heads rightfully in the silverpelt, Flintheart sees himself as the paws on the ground. His solutions to issues are direct, and are focused only on the result.
Flintheart's holy armor has a few cracks. The most obvious is the dark seed planted by the folly of his own curiosity, and his brother. The more he sought to understand the joy of his faith, the more little bits of doubt appeared. As he grew, so did they, leaving him with the nagging question he can't bear to face. He combats this darkness in him by clinging even more to his faith, to the levels of fanatascism. More than once, he has harmed himself for his sin. And his pragmatic nature has allowed him to harm others for their sins as well.
History
Midgestep, the black aberration that was accused of sullying the knightly blood of Flintheart's ancestry, looked on with pride at his darling Thornflower, and two beautiful exhibitions of new life. Their fur, like the others of their lineage, was deep, "silverpelt blue" as Flint would later call it. A lifetime of service, brought about against the odds of his birth, and tribulations of his life, had been rewarded. Flintkit and Ashkit were cleaned, and put to sleep with a story of their heroic ancestor, Bluefire.
Such lullabies were common, but didn't always put him to sleep. Flintkit reveled in the stories his parents would tell him about his ancestors in Starclan, and how the stars of Silverpelt were actually the eyes of his past family, looking down, and sending their love and strength to him. It was an amazing thought, one that baffled his mind and stupefied his soul. This was magnified when he turned a mood oldNever had he seen so many eyes on him. It was if all of the eyes in the clan were watching him, and he ha never seen a happier father or mother. It was the first time he ever felt something spiritual, a connection to those around him, and to the family of the past. From that moment forward he decided to take his faith as seriously as his father, and he spent a lot of time listening to him preach and venerate. A lot more time was spent bugging all the rest of the clan to give up the dirt of all things Starclan. Ashkit, to his dismay, couldn't always go with him, but that was alright. The only thing that ever came close to matching his love for Starclan was his love for his brother. Their kithood was spent otherwise normally, with Flintkit always trying to get Ashkit to go re-enact mooncave battles or hear stories from the elders. Both were both exploring their religion, but as he would find out, getting closer the gods, means getting farther from those you care about.
With apprenticeship, comes greater freedom, and he used his new measures to seek out his ancestors even more. There was joking among the warriors that he would be the next medicine apprentice, and the thought excited him. He was, however, more like his brother in some ways, and realized that he had a knack for the realities of spreading his faith, and brought his pragmatism to his faith, to the annoyance of his brother, his prime evangelical target. He would be a warrior like the rest of them.
As his apprenticeship approached twilight, he tried to delve even deeper into the esoterica of his faith, wanting to know all but that which was knowable only to the leaders and medicine cats. Perhaps, he'd find an answer that would allow him to pull his brother back from his ever-darkening exploration of secular life, but was unaware that such truth-searching leads to doubt. Flintpaw experienced his first crisis of faith when Ashpaw confided in him his own doubts. He was flabbergasted and quite angry, but the own seed of doubt in him gave him, for the first time, an idea of what to do differing from his teachings. His solidarity to his brother compelled him to keep his questions a secret, and for awhile, they were. This was resolved by his mother, who had listened in to a late-night conversation between the two, and leaked the secret of Ashpaw. The once proud family had been drowned in a sea of anger and disappointment. Shivering from his wet fur, Flintheart's mind during his vigil could only fathom this to be some kind of test. The water of the mooncave that had once felt almost warm with Starclan's power, was now a freezing and bitter cold, a reminder of the harshness that accompanied the love from Silverpelt.
Ashpaw's punishment that followed never sat well with him, and even now he wishes, he could have stood with his Ashfrost on the day of his naming. This was a lesser doubting, but one which served to notice him of the increasingly radical stance of her leaders. He did whatever he could help him during this time, but his "help" only drove more of a wedge between them. They were both serving doubts, but Ashfrost's drove him further away, while Flintheart's drove him closer. He deigned to continue his research, looking for his own truth in his clan's teaching, hoping to find something that could finally reach his Ashfrost and allow their relationship to flourish under the eyes of silverpelt.
Today, Flintheart is focused on his personal life and explorations of his beliefs although "fixing" his relationship to his brother is a priority. He often washes himself clean of sin, and has found a friend in Cinderface, who he regularly seeks out for conversation about the divine.
Flintheart was so named because of the strength of his faith and heart, but parts of him feel at odds. He and Ashfrost aren't completely estranged, but he fears the moment where he will have to finally have to choose between him and his ancestors.
Deep down, he doesn't know what he will choose, but if posed with the question he'll tell you his loyalty lies with the stars, and with Minnowstar, ready to give his life for what he believes in. Total word count: 1300
Such lullabies were common, but didn't always put him to sleep. Flintkit reveled in the stories his parents would tell him about his ancestors in Starclan, and how the stars of Silverpelt were actually the eyes of his past family, looking down, and sending their love and strength to him. It was an amazing thought, one that baffled his mind and stupefied his soul. This was magnified when he turned a mood oldNever had he seen so many eyes on him. It was if all of the eyes in the clan were watching him, and he ha never seen a happier father or mother. It was the first time he ever felt something spiritual, a connection to those around him, and to the family of the past. From that moment forward he decided to take his faith as seriously as his father, and he spent a lot of time listening to him preach and venerate. A lot more time was spent bugging all the rest of the clan to give up the dirt of all things Starclan. Ashkit, to his dismay, couldn't always go with him, but that was alright. The only thing that ever came close to matching his love for Starclan was his love for his brother. Their kithood was spent otherwise normally, with Flintkit always trying to get Ashkit to go re-enact mooncave battles or hear stories from the elders. Both were both exploring their religion, but as he would find out, getting closer the gods, means getting farther from those you care about.
With apprenticeship, comes greater freedom, and he used his new measures to seek out his ancestors even more. There was joking among the warriors that he would be the next medicine apprentice, and the thought excited him. He was, however, more like his brother in some ways, and realized that he had a knack for the realities of spreading his faith, and brought his pragmatism to his faith, to the annoyance of his brother, his prime evangelical target. He would be a warrior like the rest of them.
As his apprenticeship approached twilight, he tried to delve even deeper into the esoterica of his faith, wanting to know all but that which was knowable only to the leaders and medicine cats. Perhaps, he'd find an answer that would allow him to pull his brother back from his ever-darkening exploration of secular life, but was unaware that such truth-searching leads to doubt. Flintpaw experienced his first crisis of faith when Ashpaw confided in him his own doubts. He was flabbergasted and quite angry, but the own seed of doubt in him gave him, for the first time, an idea of what to do differing from his teachings. His solidarity to his brother compelled him to keep his questions a secret, and for awhile, they were. This was resolved by his mother, who had listened in to a late-night conversation between the two, and leaked the secret of Ashpaw. The once proud family had been drowned in a sea of anger and disappointment. Shivering from his wet fur, Flintheart's mind during his vigil could only fathom this to be some kind of test. The water of the mooncave that had once felt almost warm with Starclan's power, was now a freezing and bitter cold, a reminder of the harshness that accompanied the love from Silverpelt.
Ashpaw's punishment that followed never sat well with him, and even now he wishes, he could have stood with his Ashfrost on the day of his naming. This was a lesser doubting, but one which served to notice him of the increasingly radical stance of her leaders. He did whatever he could help him during this time, but his "help" only drove more of a wedge between them. They were both serving doubts, but Ashfrost's drove him further away, while Flintheart's drove him closer. He deigned to continue his research, looking for his own truth in his clan's teaching, hoping to find something that could finally reach his Ashfrost and allow their relationship to flourish under the eyes of silverpelt.
Today, Flintheart is focused on his personal life and explorations of his beliefs although "fixing" his relationship to his brother is a priority. He often washes himself clean of sin, and has found a friend in Cinderface, who he regularly seeks out for conversation about the divine.
Flintheart was so named because of the strength of his faith and heart, but parts of him feel at odds. He and Ashfrost aren't completely estranged, but he fears the moment where he will have to finally have to choose between him and his ancestors.
Deep down, he doesn't know what he will choose, but if posed with the question he'll tell you his loyalty lies with the stars, and with Minnowstar, ready to give his life for what he believes in. Total word count: 1300
