Family nickname. Maman does call me petit ange from time to time, I prefer it if only Maman refers to me in such a manner as it is rather special to me.
How Kitten Describes Maman ☾ Theli is as sweet as pie, with an extreme shy streak. She loves the world completely and sees the good in everything around her. She is truly an angel of grace and love. She blushes a lot and gets flustered easily when people are upset with her. Think Fluttershy and you pretty much have it. She also happens to speak in french and has a bit of a broken english problem. So sometimes things get lost in translation for her, as she hasn't has a formal teacher. It's not something overly problematic and can be adorable at times.
How Tordânge Describes Maman ☾ Maman is perfect. Tor's whole little world revolved around her for the vast majority of his kithood, as he dedicated himself to learning both English and French so that he could speak to her easily in either language. She remains the most important part of his life, though he is much quieter about it now. He is fiercely protective of his Maman and will not hesitate to step up if anyone dares to even think of treating her with anything less than the utmost respect.
Mom Owner ☾ Miki
How Miki Describes Mom ☾ Nejireta is not someone to soon be forgotten, because surely no one could forget that bright, in-your-face attitude or the unmistakable desire to feed the little lady something healthy, because sugar simply must be the only sustenance she survives on. She's upbeat, that's for damn sure, and while her little sweetheart brings her down from the clouds long enough to focus on the more important things in her life, she has never quite lost that bounce in her step. In fact, if anything, Theliellia has added a spring to that bounce, and her three little buggers have made that ever present smile on her face a permanent fixture.
Don't be fooled though, this one is undoubtedly loyal to her little family and will whoop anyone's a** that dares to bring a storm cloud over their sun. Her protective streak runs just as deep as her temper, and the with the two working in tandem...we...let's just say the receiving party better be ready to lie her flat or prepare their grave.
How Tordânge Describes Mom ☾ Mom is absolutely wonderful. Tor is a good blend of both his parents, possessing Maman's calm and Mom's fiercely protective nature. He loves to just watch his mom, because she has such a strong personality that he really just likes to learn from it. His boldest compositions and brightest artworks are always done with her in mind; to Tor, Mom is the spirit of boldness.
Lilix (Eldest Sister) Lilix is the definition of beauty in Tor's eyes. The deep black of her pelt combined with the bold colors of Mom and Maman are truly breathtaking. She is what he thinks about when he needs inspiration for a painting or a delicate composition. When Tor thinks of Lilix, he thinks of night skies, nebulas and the calm after a summer rain. He knows she is beautiful and as such, is very sneaky about keeping an eye on her from time to time, because well. She may be the bigger sister, but that doesn't mean he wants her to be fluffed at by anyone who isn't perfectly suited to her.
Lyrathin (Middle Child) How Kitten Describes Lyrathin ☾ Lyra is a bit of a egotistical little thing. She has a snotty little nature that seems to soften considerably around Nonet. She has a bad habit of pointing out people's faults but fails to see her own. She is a little full of herself and can come across as horribly stuck up because of it. She really doesn't see herself as such though, she speaks both French and English fluently. She likes having fun and not being the center of her sisters experiments. She has grown much gentler after meeting Nonet. She has a fire about her, and always will. However it seems her little ferret knows how to quell it to a more manageable temperature.
How Tordânge Describes Lyra ☾ Lyra is precious and Tor will not take kindly to anyone who says differently. Though many may call Lyra egotistical and snotty, Tor sees her in a rather rose colored manner. He believes that she is outspoken, doesn't hesitate to speak her mind - even if it isn't the nicest thing to say - and is honest about herself. He sees her as perfectly lovely, so really, why shouldn't she?
Tordânge is a very refined young gentleman. From a young age he came to understand the fluctuations of language within his family and took the effort to become fluent in both English and French in order to ensure he would be able to communicate flawlessly not only within his own family unit, but in the outside world as well.
At first glance, it is easy to assume Tordânge to be somewhat pretentious and a little bit aloof, as he rarely addresses people unless addressed first, and even then his words tend to be succinct and to point. The truth is that Tordânge hides his social awkwardness behind a mask of intellect and a well-kept distance from those outside of his family unit. Once he opens up, he is very energetic, if not even a little wild around those he truly trusts and adores.
There are a few things that Tordânge is particularly passionate about, though his passion is a carefully held thing, like a bird within a cage of fingers. Unless he knows you, he will be very reluctant to share this side of himself with you - but once you get to know him, you'll see just how much it defines him. He lives for music and is rarely without it. Music always drifts from his room, or from the small devices he carries with him at all times.
Tordânge is often writing down notes, composing in his mind and putting it to paper or even to walls, floors and various furnishings in his room. Music is forever flowing through his mind in some manner, and when he isn’t scrawling compositions, he is sketching and painting the world around him, from the blossoming of a flower to his Maman looking up at his Mom. He has a strict attention to detail and a fiercely realistic technique that leaves one with the distinct impression that he is capturing memories with every stroke of his medium.
For those who take the time, Tor can become the most excellent of friends. He is extremely loyal and steadfast, with a fierce protective streak that is very well hidden beneath his seemingly reserved nature. Nothing draws his wilder side out faster than a threat to those he loves after all.
Tordânge has, thus far, lived a very blessed life. He occupies his time composing music on walls and creating art through nearly any medium he gets his paws on. He is devoted to his family and has kept to them for the most part. Only recently has he begun to travel outward and in so doing, he has found his beloved Adaras.His 'bleu ange' is his best friend. Though Tordànge holds an adoration for Adaras that borders on an infatuation, he is devoted to simply making Adaras feel loved and deserving of that love. If that means one day Adaras will fall in love with someone else and have the confidence to stand by their side instead, though it will break his heart, Tordànge also knows it will mean his love is healed and happy, and that will help ease the ache.
Giving the gift of....: A blue and white scarf that they chose together, with considerable care. Adaras remembered well how cold he used to be as a bowl and as a kit, and wished to impart the wonders of warmth upon the child. Tordânge valued the meaning behind the colors, which were so much more than the shades of his bleu ange. White for peace, innocence and completion. For they came in peace to an innocent child, with the wish to make their lives complete through family. Blue for trust, loyalty and integrity. For the child would have to trust them, and they would have to be loyal to that trust and show the child how to lead a life of integrity. Everything has meaning, and no gift to a child chosen between them would ever be without careful thought from both of them.
Child's Trouble/past : This kit’s parents were swept away in a storm when it was but a wee bowl. The howling winds pulled the entire family toward the sea, where the ocean took the adults as sacrifice for the bowl that was spared, lodged securely between two rocks. Falling into the protective embrace of the cold stones, the bowl was chipped and waterlogged, but otherwise safe from the violence of the ocean itself. Lightning and thunder are frightening, but it is the sound of wind whistling that truly makes this kit tremble in terror. For all that was faced, he does not fear the ocean but rather feels that he was spared for a reason. Because of this, he bears his scars and his unusual markings with an odd mixture of grief and pride. For though he was chosen for something, spared for some reason he doesn’t yet know, the price paid feels too high and too lonely.
Future rp storyline : Together, Tordânge and Adaras will hold the kit through every troubled storm and through stories and gentle words, teach him that he does not need to fear the wind any more than he fears the ocean. Through Tordânge, he will learn to see the beauty and vibrancy of life from the eyes of an artist and musician. From Adaras, he will learn to be unfailingly kind, gentle and loving. As a family, they will not ever have to face the world alone. Tordânge has ulterior motives, however. He sees a beauty in his beloved angel that Adaras himself cannot see. It is Tordânge's hope that by teaching their child to love himself, Adaras in turn, will come to do the same.
Meeting the child: Prompt One.
Ever since Tor had first laid eyes on Adaras, he had been unable to get the beautiful man out of his mind. That was how it had all started, really. Just one look, and it was as though the heavens themselves had opened up to reveal to his eyes its greatest treasure. He had been beside himself, certain that one so beautiful would come with the usual drawbacks. Such as a terrible personality, or worse, a lack of one. Tor had seen so many beautiful people in his time, been captivated by the idea of painting them, or the thought of a song to the way they moved, only to be jarred away by the harshness hidden behind poise. Yet among the many things taught to him by his parents, was to hold faith in others, no matter what.
So he had approached and been damned, ever since, to love the sweet prince to the depths of his being. His bleu ange was many things, though arrogant and prideful were not among them. Tor had wanted nothing more than to love and protect him, but it seemed there were scars not even pure adoration could heal. It had bothered Tor considerably, causing darker shades to splash across his paintings and crashing crescendos to find their way into his music, as his frustration with the world for wounding one so gentle made itself known in the safest outlet he had.
It was happenstance that he had passed the orphanage one day, but the more time spent bouncing around ideas, the more he kept going back to it. Adaras had been alone for so long. His family truly was Tordânge. Yet he had so much to give, so much beauty and love that could be shared – should be shared – and who better to receive that gentle blessing, than a child just as alone as Adaras had once been? Who better to heal him, than someone he sought to heal? Strength born of love was the most powerful of all, for it never waned. You could always make more of it, especially if you had a heart as kind as Tor’s ange.
It had taken some convincing, several gentle prods, nuzzles and even a few hugs and kisses, but eventually Tor did manage to get Adaras to agree. Together, they went and picked out a scarf to grant their little one as a welcoming gift, and though Adaras had wibbled a bit at the color choice, Tor managed to persuade him gently on that front as well.
They were waiting now, and when two women passed by, Tor thought nothing of it at first. They stopped, speaking in hushed voices, their backs to Adaras as one murmured darkly, “There’s something wrong with that one.” Andaras stiffened, before bowing his head and shifting back, his movement attracting Tor’s attention and causing him to bristle at the women, even as the orphanage manager came up and quickly ushered them into the room that they had just left.
Tor slid close to Adaras, about to say something scathing to the woman when the door slammed behind her, startling him. He blinked, then noted that Adaras was looking at something else and followed his gaze. The kit had tucked himself as far into the corner as the room would allow, his fur raised to make himself look bigger and to better hide the scars that marred his features. Though he was backed up, the kit wasn’t hiding himself in any of the places he would have been better shielded. He allowed himself to be seen, and in that moment, Tor immediately knew that this was the one. This kit, who even scared and ridiculed, still wished to be seen and wanted.
He took a step toward the little one, lowering his head in order to seem smaller, when lightning flashed through the windows and made his head come up again. There was a loud bang as the wind slammed a shutter, and then the whole room went black as the power was cut in the surge of the storm. “It’s alright!” Tor called instantly, keeping his voice soothing and calm for both Adaras and the kit.
He felt Adaras come up beside him, careful to tilt himself so that his blades would cause no harm. The two called out to the kit, told him to stay still while they made their way over to him in the dark. The kit seemed surprisingly fine, until the room began to whistle in the wind. High, keening whines of fright drew them quickly to the little one, and they curled their bodies about him, Adaras careful to keep his blades clear as the kit scrambled to bury himself against them. As Tor spoke soothingly, he noted the way the kit chose to wedge himself very firmly between both adults, seeming only to calm down once he was pinned between their haunches and had their forepaws serving as a bowl-like shape. Adaras cooed, nuzzling the top of the kit’s head, as Tor slid his tail about them and lowered his head so that the kit was completely encircled by them.
Eventually, the wind faded away and the door opened, revealing the orphanage manager and candlelight out in the hall. Gently, Tor and Adaras nudged the little one up and walked out, keeping him wedged between them, where he seemed the most comfortable. Out in the hall with the others, the kit leaned a bit into Adaras at all the eyes that gazed on them, and Tor watched with a glowing sense of pride as Adaras gently draped the scarf around the kit’s neck, causing him to look up in surprise and earn a nose bump as he was claimed with a subtle pride by his new parent. Tor’s tail waved at the sight, and he knew that his instincts were right.
The child was as perfect as the angel at his side.
