▾ ━━━━━━━ MINO LEKIVIAN
20 and 5. Earth's Rest 1. Low City, Kalsazi.
BASICS
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◦ hytori/rathari (caracal)
◦ male
◦ single (please do not mingle)
◦ fluent in common, synskrit
◦ male
◦ single (please do not mingle)
◦ fluent in common, synskrit
CRIMINAL
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thief/"accountant" ◦
lekivian crime family ◦
no official title ◦
living within the Lekivian estate ◦
lekivian crime family ◦
no official title ◦
living within the Lekivian estate ◦
VISAGE
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HEIGHT ━━ 5'8"
WEIGHT ━━ 131
HAIR ━━ BROWN/WHITE
EYES ━━ GREEN/YELLOW
MARKINGS ━━ FRECKLES/SCARS
WEIGHT ━━ 131
HAIR ━━ BROWN/WHITE
EYES ━━ GREEN/YELLOW
MARKINGS ━━ FRECKLES/SCARS
Cat-like gestures are common for the Rathari, incorporated even into his speech. A literal purr may be how he rumbles out his words if pleased, or the usual almost mumble that he speaks with. His words are strung together in a manner that borders on a drawl, but with a sort of enunciation that Lady Blue would be pleased with. His laughter gives away true amusement when it gets higher in pitch and the faintest squeaks can be heard as he draws a breath to steady himself. He may be seen wearing spectacles, but he has no true need of them....they're just nice and they twinkle if the light hits the silver frames right.
As a caracal, he doesn't differ much from the average creature. His eyes might belie a bit more sentience, but he could easily be disguised in a crowd of them. He's only slightly larger, perhaps no more than a few inches, but he's never had the pleasure of seeing another caracal live. Not for a very long time.
As of this thread, Mino has a brand in the shape of the House Lekivian sigil on his collarbone.
BEHAVIOR
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A Lekivian is known for their oddity. Names that change at the drop of a hat and attitudes that shifted with the winds. Mino, though, has always been known by his singular, unwavering smile. A light of mischief that lingers in his eyes and the bounce of his steps. Carefree in a way that was too effortful, and notorious for finding something that didn't belong to him in his possession. Mino could wonder all he wanted about what he would be like if he had never been taken from his family, but the truth of the matter remains: he's never up to any good. Good for him, perhaps, but questionable for others involved. ━━━━
Mino represents the truest parts of his feline nature. Temperamental like the fat cats that sit on fatter laps of luxury, but affectionate enough to those that he deems worthy of his attentions. Or, that are at least mildly entertaining. Much like domesticated cats, he's never learned much the concept of personal space. Sometimes it's truly because he doesn't think much of it, and sometimes it's a ploy to see what you have in your pockets, but one could find that he's exceptionally hands-on. His affinity for felines doesn't help him in being any more human, but he supposes he's never wanted that. He prefers the easy lounging he could do rather than overwork himself. Sometimes, he may say that he even enjoys the suffering of others. Maybe. If he admits it - well.
Trusting Mino is something that few ever do without falling into ruin. He doesn't make himself seem like one worthy of putting one's trust in, but sometimes - it happens. He figures it might have to do with his honesty and his finely bred features (re: he really doesn't get it). He might just have one of those faces. Too often, people find the things that they say behind closed doors have escaped and there's only one person to blame. This isn't to say he doesn't have his loyalties; he would never betray those. Maybe not never, but there's a smaller chance of that happening. Debts are considered much the same, but once the debt is over, it's more than likely that the debtor is viable for being offered up. It's nothing personal; simply a means of survival. Better you than him.
When all these things, these quirks, these oddities come together, one finds that Mino fits right in with his family. That he's somehow still charming in his own way. That he's someone you should be wary of. And maybe check your pockets when you're around him.
QUIRKS
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◦ purrs when pleased
easily distracted by shiny objects ◦
◦ rests in high places
takes up more space than he needs ◦
◦ climbs into places he shouldn't
heavy milk drinker ◦
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◦ purrs when pleased
easily distracted by shiny objects ◦
◦ rests in high places
takes up more space than he needs ◦
◦ climbs into places he shouldn't
heavy milk drinker ◦
HISTORY
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The earliest memory Mino has is of being picked up by the scruff of his neck. He can't recall how old he was, but knows it was young ━ otherwise they wouldn't have taken him. His family, his real family are faces lost in the void of his memories and sometimes he wonders where they are now. Who they might be. ━━━━
He doesn't wonder for long.
Mino no longer has the luxury to think about her birth family. He can't be bothered past the memory of a black carriage rolling down the street. A man in a suit had stepped out of it, helped a woman in all blue down. The children had taken off down the street as quickly as they could. Mino, though, was small. Small enough then that he couldn't keep up. Hence, the hand on his neck, yanking him back and sticking him in the carriage. The experience itself wasn't made everything else blur, but what followed afterward. The sprawling estate he'd been brought to.
The caracal would find that he would be among a new batch of children handpicked off the streets. Taken from homes, or lack thereof, as if this was the best option for them. The Lekivian family was one of distinction. He didn't know what then, but he would know later. They gave him food and shelter, proper baths and clothing. Things he didn't remember having. Things he probably did have, but lost the memory of.
As he would grow older, they would see his potential in certain areas. He was stuck with a group of children that would go on to become exceptional thieves and smugglers. They made sure to purge any records they could find of his existence prior to him coming of age, the first moment his shift. It had been him trying to reach something too high up for him. Mino had continued the trend of being on the smaller side, but in that particular moment he felt it worst.
The Lekivians had thought it important to learn by experience. In this case - stealing something that he had no business stealing. His eyes had latched onto the shining object (he doesn't even remember what it was) and he couldn't be taken from it. Try as he might, his attempts to hop on the balls of his feet were to no avail. The ripple of his spine, the tingle of his flesh. Without having someone to tell him what was going on, the poor boy thought he was dying. It was a moment that lasted for gods knew how long to him, but was no more than a handful of minutes. By the time it was over, he found himself lower down to the ground than he'd been before.
He'd thought he'd hated it.
Until his legs pushed him forward and his teeth wrapped around the shining object of his affections and he took off. It was his first transition into his beast form and it certainly wouldn't be his last. As the Lekivian came to realize they'd snatched up a Rathari child, his tests become true jobs, and he was further instated into his position within the family. His surname was slapped onto his as if that was always how it had been, and he was introduced to high society like he was one of the many fortunate children they'd taken in over the years.
On the flip side, he was one of their best. Partly because he'd developed a love of thievery as if it were no more than a sport. His heists would prove themselves to be increasingly dangerous until he was reeled in by his overseeing "mother" Lady Blue. He would not count her kind and she would not count him as any more than an expendable child, but she made it clear that she didn't want to lose any of her best just yet.
The ruse was elaborate, made harder when it came into the consideration of his schooling. He had, to put it simply, none. He could hardly read his name on a page, and while he spoke well enough - he couldn't do more than arithmetic. Which, worked well enough. They made him an accountant; if all he could read was numbers, what better would a position? Numbers and sums and differences that he could calculate with ease.
The years had been numerous since his first memory, but the many he's collected in that time are riddled with the darker truths of the world. That he can't trust anyone, and that sooner or later, someone else will be adding these numbers up.