personalities
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┆ before - kittenhood personality જ ✾

⟶ basic:
lively, tender (+);
wishful, inquisitive (;
ignorant, anxious (–).
⟶ detailed:

The storyline of a lifetime. Who is this fur-covered kitten? With sharp, protruding fangs and hair in numerous, tangled curls enclosing its face, it could be none other than Beastlykit, who is quite the opposite of his namesake. Maintaining an appearance like that of a rabbit or dog, or even a pint-sized monster, Beast is quite the charmer. He's lively, tender, wishful, inquisitive, ignorant, and anxious. Within his short lifetime, this young cat has endured abandonment, adoption, and relocation. What more could you ask of him? Beastly's anxiousness mostly derives from the circumstances of his background, though it is also partially because of his physical condition. Underneath his thick, luscious locks is a thin, fragile frame. His breakability makes him overly cautious of his surroundings. Despite this fact, Beast has remained lively and energetic, enjoying life as a kit aught to. He is fun-loving and adventurous, even when it seems his health would hinder him. The tomkit is continually inquisitive, enjoying life as he goes and finding new things to question and discover along the way. Inquiries regarding social status, color and hue changes, seasons, plants, dietary standards, numbering, and more; if one can ask of it, he's already questioned it in so many words. It's one of his definitive traits - his questions. If Beast isn’t chatting along absentmindedly, he's turning to whoever is closest to him with thought-provoking interrogatives. Wishful pondering takes up a large amount of his time as well. Thoughts on his biological parents, hopes for future achievements, and dreams of how he plans on making a name for himself are the main objectives of his thinking. Beast, as I said before, has a personality that is contrary to his namesake. Most would imagine a hard, brutish creature, not a soft, delicate flower. Never judge a book by its cover. Beast is tender and gentle, kind and caring, and very fatherly, in a sense. If he had to describe himself, he'd say he was a petal. “Underneath all this fur, I'm a petal: small, delicate, and soft. Most people don't take the time to see that part of me, though. They like to run away instead, haha.” It's a hard trait to possess when physical disadvantages divert from that quiet, nurturing spirit. Beast is ignorant of the stares and demeaning comments made to or about him, no matter how veiled. He's embarrassingly naive, though it works to his advantage. Without knowing the extent of one's fear of him, he lives in a world where he's just like everyone else - just a little hairier. This was the perfect vision of Beastlykit, a young kitten with bright ambitions and hopes for the future. What could ever stop the ever-determined Beast?

┆ after - adult personality (possibility) જ ✾

⟶ basic:
bold, assertive, resolute (+);
constant, defensive, intelligent (;
cocky, cunning, heartless (–).
⟶ detailed:

A dark, ominous beast approaches you from out of the shrouded mist. Its bright eyes peer at you through the blackness, and the huge silhouette of the creature before you sends a tremor up and down your spine. A deep, menacing ambiance drips from the ravenous beast. What is - who is - this nightmarish brute? With an all-but-broken past, Beastly is a true beast; having undergone trials, trauma, and tribulation to become the cat he has evolved into. What he lacks physically he makes up for in his fear-provoking personality and deepened scowl. He's emboldened by the fear he causes and the chaos that ensues because of it. As a kit, Beast was frightened and cautious, but no more. When he strides into the room everyone freezes– no one can take their eyes off the hideous monster before them. With a thick, matted pelt, protruding upper and lower fangs, and gleaming golden eyes, the Beast commands attention, respect, and fear from his peers. He fears nothing except death itself, and even that he mocks. His boldness caused him to acquire a cocky arrogance that fills his head with glorious tales of his triumphs. The humongous feline feels that everyone is beneath him and that everyone ought to understand that in its entirety. Beastly is resolute and constant, being unwaveringly steadfast to those who are under his leadership and authority. He is fiercely protective of his inner circle and, surprisingly, even slightly loyal to it. Abandonment in his childhood made him grow more aware of those nearest to him, and his desire to keep them close. It's jealousy and anxiety that drives this, not a well-earned or deserved love. Beast is cunning, even though his namesake suggests a more neanderthalic view of the world. He uses his brutish appearance to his advantage, tricking even the sharpest of minds while he schemes and plots. His intelligence is heightened and above the average for his day and age. His circumstances have forced him to become smarter, faster, and stronger than any and all opponents he may face in his lifetime. The muscular tomcat becomes easily defensive over the smallest of matters, feeling the need to constantly reaffirm the ‘why’ of doing whatever he's doing. His defensiveness turns to aggression within the blink of an eye, leading to severe injuries of his counterparts, typically. He's immune to their emotions; heartless would be the correct term. Beast grew up with a lack of love in his life and the overwhelming desire to earn the affection of his adopter, who was hard-pressed to show any ounce of love or favor. No matter how many tears are shed or lives are hurt, the Beast remains unemotional and stubborn to his opinion and ideal. Nothing changes without logical reason; his mind will not be altered without definitive reason. The Beast has forgone peace, and you had better be prepared to face him.

roleplay examples
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┆ 1 - kittenhood જ ✾
Watch as a swift change of wind and waves alters the entire course of a young kit’s life. Crashing onto a sandy shore, dimly lit eyes barely able to blink away the grime, you find yourself staring up into the cold, arrogant gaze of your savior - a rebellious tom with a desire for redemption. Life for you and your siblings when you are taken into this rescuer’s care becomes a rollercoaster of excitement, with each discovery acting as another treasure to add to your growing hoard of priceless memories. These thoughts delude your mind and cloud your judgment as you enter into this new phase of life: a life of companionship, fatherhood, and being chosen – elected from among your peers.
You awake early one morning to find that the warm-bodied siblings of yours missing and your pelt cold. There’s a darkened beam of sunlight streaming in through the hole in the hollowed-out oak column. You blink your eyes open slowly, your once blurry vision growing clearer as the seconds turn into minutes. Your fragile body - oh so plump, oh so soft - is still working up the courage and strength to lift itself from off of the ground. After a few failed attempts, finally, your efforts at momentarily standing upright are recognized. You creep out of your makeshift home, wobbling from unsteady paws and inexperience with movement. This is where you realize your name, remembering it clearly as when Laughingstock first pronounced it: “Beastlykit.” Beastlykit is your name. The young, ignorant tomkit latches onto this newfound identity with excitement, clinging to it tightly. He walks forward, farther than before, spotting his adopted father with his other littermates. What were they learning? “Riverclan… equals… bad…” The makeshift mentor explained slowly, using a stick to draw out what he meant. Treasurekit and Questkit nodded with understanding, even though they hadn’t a clue what he meant by his words. Beastlykiy stumbled into the small patch of daylight where they stood, rushing to join his family in whatever they might be doing. He plops down eagerly, ears erect as he sits attentively. What would they learn today? The leaves of Newleaf were vibrantly green with newborn shoots sprouting out from the broken limbs of the previous branch generation. The reason the tom acknowledged this was because Laughingstock used one of the leaves in his presentation. “Now, you see, this leaf is Riverclan… and this stick represents us – the rebellion.” He stated, grasping the stick firmly between his teeth. An unholy fire ignited in his amber* (*not sure if this is the color) eyes and he began violently stabbing the stick into the leaf as the kittens watched with a mixture of shock, confusion, and interest. “Why?” Prompted Beastlykit suddenly, curling his ruffled tail around his dainty paws. “Why? Because…” Laughingstock replied, following his ‘because’ with overdramatic detail and emphasis. It was in this form that Beastlykit learned all that he knew. Inquisitive insights and questions followed by lengthy reasoning and irrational emotions - his world was perfect, that much he was sure about.

┆ 2 - adolescence જ ✾
You’ve been visited by puberty, loneliness, and depression for the first time in your life - what couldn’t go wrong? All the things you learned during your childhood you rebel against, refusing to be even somewhat similar to your superiors. Striking out against the world and choosing to forge your path will require a lot more intuition and determination than you thought before. Are you prepared to look destiny in the face and say, “I choose no!”?
A large tomcat prowled through the undergrowth of the new loner territory, his oversized feet creating immense paw marks in the dampened dirt beneath him. The clear blue sky above was littered with puffy white clouds, each one individual and unique in its way. They resembled sheep pelts, only lighter and less accessible. A dense canopy of leaves and branches crowded this cheerful vision from the seeing eyes below. Beast - formerly known as Beastlykit - had taken it upon himself to make a new name for himself. Searching for an identity other than the one he had been bestowed, he had changed his name to something simpler and less “clan-like”: Beast. Other than that, only his location had changed. After leaving Laughingstock’s care, the young tom promised himself that he wouldn’t grow up to become like his adopted parent. He would be the friendly Beast who loved Riverclan and all other living beings with unchagrined forgiveness and affection. The lack of love in his earlier days was the reason behind his openness and opposition to his mentor’s teaching. He would be his own cat. He would make his personal mark on the world, and he would be different. While walking aimlessly through the dreary darkness he happened upon a runaway apprentice - a Riverclan one at that. Memories of hatred and teaching of hatred for Riverclan cats flooded into Beast’s mind like an untamed hurricane when the fish-related scent hit his nostrils, making him flinch and pin his ears back. The apprentice, unbeknownst to the other tom’s location, continued onward to complete whatever task it had been assigned. Beast breathed heavily, slumping to the ground while tremors ran up and down his body, from the tips of his toes to the tops of his ears. Would he ever be able to escape the influence Laughingstock had over his life? The trauma, the teachings… no, they would follow him forever.

┆ 3 - adulting~ જ ✾
No introduction is needed. Prepare to face the consequences of your actions, oh brave soul with little love in thine heart…
Dark winds of chaos swirled violently inside the Beast’s head, making it throb with pain. It should’ve hurt worse. His eyes were tightly shut, his ears pinned back against his cranium. His tail was broken and bent awkwardly, with a permanent kink towards the middle of it. Scars littered his body and face. His claws - however long and dangerous, feared by the multitude for the story of their great power - fiercely clung to the mossy ground beneath his feet. Thoughts of torment and turmoil clouded his judgment as his knees buckled forward and he fell to the ground. A singular tear dripped from his left eye, traveling across the map of age and reason before lingering at the tip of his chin. All his life, power was what he had craved. Power had been what he needed. As an adolescent, the Beast learned that the teaching of Laughingstock would never leave him. They were a part of who he was and who he was going to be. He spent many, many moons of his life afterward pursuing the same goal his late father had once had: to eradicate Otterstar and his relations. Lives had been lost, families torn away, and sacrifices made. The villainous deed had been done; the task completed; the goal accomplished. Why now, amid his victory, was the weight of all he had done finally crashing down upon him? The singular tear turned into a continuous river flowing with anguish and distraught, and a weak whimper rose out from his misshapen jaw, breaking the silence of the night. The brutish monster had forged his own path in the end: a path that lead to destruction and demise everywhere he stepped. He had power, authority, and leadership – but all of it was meaningless, utterly meaningless. Under a small mound of earth, rocks and dirt gently covered the lifeless body of a loved one, his loved one; his only child, his daughter, Fleur. Taken from him before her fourteenth moon, before she had had the chance to truly live. A bitter roar of despair arose from the pits of his soul and echoed into the unending dark of night. He tore viciously at the ground, raking it with his claws, refusing to let his pain be extinguished. When the child’s mother had passed on, the Beast had closed off all emotions, refusing to acknowledge even one. But now, now that the only treasure he truly possessed had been taken from him, he knew no way to stop the ensuing carnage of his emotions. Irrationally he lashed out at the tree nearest to him, scraping and raking his claws against it, his eyes alight with a desire for vengeance. A delicate, silky thread of moonlight beamed down on the simple grave, the gorgeous flowers decorating the top of it attaining a luminous appearance in the light. Fleur had d!ed from an unknown illness none of his medicine cats could heal, and it was all his fault. The Beast, emitting one last painful, pitiful, strained wail of anguish, collapsed onto the ground next to his fallen daughter, sobs racking his body so strenuously one might believe he had had a seizure. His life’s only true love had been taken from him; what was there left to do but sit and wait for death’s cold, faithful embrace?