Marvyl, the Oh Look What I Did To My Id Female Wisp
'She was a pretty cat, and he liked cats.'
- Ian Bastroe
- Ian Bastroe
Bold #c1336c
We may look like we're phony medics
But we took our look from a book by Frederick's
Oh, look what I did to my Id - Id!
Look what I did to my Id
But we took our look from a book by Frederick's
Oh, look what I did to my Id - Id!
Look what I did to my Id
Bubbly is the name of the game here. Outwardly, she tends to be playful and chatty; a high-energy whirlwind that’s constantly moving from one thing to the next be it people, shinies, or hobbies. She starts a great many tasks and has even worked herself to a surface-level proficiency with them, only to let it fall to the wayside for the next thing to come her way and spark her attention. The phrase “jack of all trades, but master of none” is well-suited here in regards to her. There are just so many interesting things to do and see and feel and taste and she can’t be bothered to get beneath the thinnest veneer of the surface before moving on. Deep down, she really is a sweet little lady who just wants to know that she has a place of her own but this tends to war with her desires to see and do everything that ever sounds exciting or wondrous to her. She’s an eclectic mix of kitten and cat who isn’t really sure just what she wants to be when it comes down to it. For now, she would rather be the center of attention, as long as you’re not digging too deep and going all Freudian on her. She’d much rather if you just let her do her thing and when she’s happy, of course you’ll be happy too, right? While she is definitely more selfish than not, she does have her moments, and will be the first to suggest cracking out the good desserts after a long, hard day (just share them with her, please).
This little lady is all cuddles all the time. Cuddles from you, and cuddles from you, and hey, why not your friend over there next! She loves attention, eats it up and thrives on it in all ways and she has devised clever ways of getting double or triple of her daily allotment of it. She’s very outgoing and has a good eye when it comes to reading people (and how to make them adore her). She’s done everything from bringing someone a little toy to play chase to bunting a book open so that someone can read at her. She fancies herself an expert in medicine-- but she’s more like an actress who plays one on tv. She isn’t stupid, just… ill-informed. It’s probably for the better that she doesn’t really care to pursue medicine as anything more than a passing fancy-- infact, she treats everything she likes as as passing fancy.
Still, no matter how flighty this diminutive wisp can be, it can never be said that she isn’t a beautiful (and she knows it). Her short fur is as soft as cashmere and seems to beg to be petted. If you have any feline-friendly accessories or perfumes on hand, be wary of them ending up hers rather than yours. She’s a pleasing reddish brown overall with a white bib that spreads into a chest and tummy stripe in the palest shade of cream. She’s small and fine-boned, a delicate, graceful little kitten who will always be just slightly on the runty side. She works it to her favor though, playing and flirting it up as an adorable ragamuffin who just needs a good snuggle or two. She is incredibly guilty of using her large, ruby-colored eyes to stare up at someone soulfully until they bend to her will. It doesn’t help that her sweet voice is just a bit high-pitched and tends to spew a near-constant stream of chatter. Her teleporting skills are good-- very good, and she often uses the ability to chase after people whose attention she feels that she deserves.
This little lady is all cuddles all the time. Cuddles from you, and cuddles from you, and hey, why not your friend over there next! She loves attention, eats it up and thrives on it in all ways and she has devised clever ways of getting double or triple of her daily allotment of it. She’s very outgoing and has a good eye when it comes to reading people (and how to make them adore her). She’s done everything from bringing someone a little toy to play chase to bunting a book open so that someone can read at her. She fancies herself an expert in medicine-- but she’s more like an actress who plays one on tv. She isn’t stupid, just… ill-informed. It’s probably for the better that she doesn’t really care to pursue medicine as anything more than a passing fancy-- infact, she treats everything she likes as as passing fancy.
Still, no matter how flighty this diminutive wisp can be, it can never be said that she isn’t a beautiful (and she knows it). Her short fur is as soft as cashmere and seems to beg to be petted. If you have any feline-friendly accessories or perfumes on hand, be wary of them ending up hers rather than yours. She’s a pleasing reddish brown overall with a white bib that spreads into a chest and tummy stripe in the palest shade of cream. She’s small and fine-boned, a delicate, graceful little kitten who will always be just slightly on the runty side. She works it to her favor though, playing and flirting it up as an adorable ragamuffin who just needs a good snuggle or two. She is incredibly guilty of using her large, ruby-colored eyes to stare up at someone soulfully until they bend to her will. It doesn’t help that her sweet voice is just a bit high-pitched and tends to spew a near-constant stream of chatter. Her teleporting skills are good-- very good, and she often uses the ability to chase after people whose attention she feels that she deserves.
Micky, Well I Guess if You Say So, I'll Have To Pack my Things and Go Male Wisp
'Ian was more excited about the talking cat. "Can you believe they talk?"'
italic #e3ab96
Inspiration: Hit the Road Jack --- Ray Charles
Some people would call him a no-good freeloader, far too loose with his money and with his promises to straighten up. They're likely to tell you to stay far away: he's a scoundrel and a heartbreaker, and not worth the trouble.
If you ask this Wisp, though, he's just a down-on-his-luck jazz musician. It's not his fault that the universe hates him, baby. The fact that he frittered away the money from his last gig at the casino? Well don't you know he's just trying to make ends meet? Life is hard for a rambling start-up like him, with nothing but a beat-up saxophone and a mindvoice like bottled smoke to his name. To his credit, he is a talented musician, and perhaps his skill does occasionally go unnoticed by the world at large. It's not like no one will offer him work, though. He's a silver-tongued devil if nothing else, and he always seems to be able to convince someone to give him a loan or another chance. Just one more, he promises. Next time he'll do better. That tongue of his also has a particular talent for lyrics. The blues are his specialty, and he can spin lamentations at all sorts of keys and tempos.
Despite all his claims to innocence, he does seem to wind up taking advantage of people more often than not. Crashing on their couches, 'borrowing' a little start-up cash, eating their food... Ian is of course his go-to for handouts, but when the doctor gets fed up with him he'll surely find someone else to mooch off of readily enough. It's remarkably hard to stay mad st this Wisp, though. That slick tongue of his does the trick. Calling him out on his behavior will lead to cajoling and pleading, ranging from agony about his situation to rants about how unfair everything in his life is to claims that he might just up and start crying if you kick him to the curn. Come on, now, baby, you don't want to see that, right? After all, he swears he's really going to stick to the straight-and-narrow this time. Don't be so chilly!
He's a large and rather scruffy tom, straddling the line between dirty ruffian and ruggedly handsome. His fur is medium-length and well-groomed despite the fact that he claims he's constantly working himself to the bone trying to get everything to go his way. He's nothing particularly special in terms of color, a common but still striking mackerel tabby with black stripes on a background of gray-brown. His chest, paws, stomach, and muzzle are all marked with prim white. Honestly, if not for the fact that he can talk and his rose-colored glasses eyes, he could be mistaken for a common alley cat.
If you ask this Wisp, though, he's just a down-on-his-luck jazz musician. It's not his fault that the universe hates him, baby. The fact that he frittered away the money from his last gig at the casino? Well don't you know he's just trying to make ends meet? Life is hard for a rambling start-up like him, with nothing but a beat-up saxophone and a mindvoice like bottled smoke to his name. To his credit, he is a talented musician, and perhaps his skill does occasionally go unnoticed by the world at large. It's not like no one will offer him work, though. He's a silver-tongued devil if nothing else, and he always seems to be able to convince someone to give him a loan or another chance. Just one more, he promises. Next time he'll do better. That tongue of his also has a particular talent for lyrics. The blues are his specialty, and he can spin lamentations at all sorts of keys and tempos.
Despite all his claims to innocence, he does seem to wind up taking advantage of people more often than not. Crashing on their couches, 'borrowing' a little start-up cash, eating their food... Ian is of course his go-to for handouts, but when the doctor gets fed up with him he'll surely find someone else to mooch off of readily enough. It's remarkably hard to stay mad st this Wisp, though. That slick tongue of his does the trick. Calling him out on his behavior will lead to cajoling and pleading, ranging from agony about his situation to rants about how unfair everything in his life is to claims that he might just up and start crying if you kick him to the curn. Come on, now, baby, you don't want to see that, right? After all, he swears he's really going to stick to the straight-and-narrow this time. Don't be so chilly!
He's a large and rather scruffy tom, straddling the line between dirty ruffian and ruggedly handsome. His fur is medium-length and well-groomed despite the fact that he claims he's constantly working himself to the bone trying to get everything to go his way. He's nothing particularly special in terms of color, a common but still striking mackerel tabby with black stripes on a background of gray-brown. His chest, paws, stomach, and muzzle are all marked with prim white. Honestly, if not for the fact that he can talk and his rose-colored glasses eyes, he could be mistaken for a common alley cat.