Post by ..::Mist::.. on Dec 27, 2007 10:26:25 GMT -5
I'm trying out a new style of bio making...
What you see - www.cat-pregnancy-report.com/images/black-cat.jpg
What I was once called - Darkness
I am a - tom
How long I have survived - 20 moons
Who am loyal to - myself{rogue}
What my rank is - king of all that I see{as he thinks}
Me in one line - Complete black with slight feathering on tail, belly and chest, black eyes with many scars and only a half of a tail.
How you see me - I am, as my name implies, black. Not just ordinary black but that complete black that just seems to jump out at you in the day or sink into the shadows at night. Indeed, it is niegh impossible to spot me at night. My black pelt ripples on throughout my entire pelt, no other color shows and no other color is there. If you could go through my entire pelt, looking at each and every fur, you would only find black.
Each fur that you would look at would be short, sleek, and shining, unless it were on my belly or chest. If it were on my belly and chest then it would be slightly longer, softer, and duller. Also my tail has feathering on the edges. I really am handsome some have said, well they say that I would be, if it weren't for the deep and jagged scars that criss cross my skin pelt. My fur has grown over it yes, but under it the scars tell of my horrible story, the 'training' that I recieved, showing how harsh mother nature can be.
I am the regular size for a cat, though you may say I am a little on the smaller side. Perhaps it is true that I am, but even then you should not underestimate me for my muscles are many and hardened from years of mistreatment and work. My legs are a little short, fine I admit it, but that only makes them stronger, for they are quite thick and as well muscled as the rest of my body. My tail is half the size that it should be, the reason for that I shall tell you later. My paws are wide and thick.
My face, no it's not a pretty picture, for here where the fur grows shorter some of the scars show through. One crosses my right eye and it is a wonder that it isn't blinded. My nose is black, as are my whiskers and claws, which I advise you not to mess with. My eyes, though they are in reality dark brown, are often called black.
How I act(are you brave enough to know me?) - Many have said, my heart is as black as by pelt, and as cold as the night I was born on. Yes, what they say is more than likely true, though others contradict them saying that I have no heart. Whoever is right the know what they're talking about, though I don't know who they might be who has met me and lived to tell about it. Must have been spying. Anyway, I'm not the sort of cat that you mess with, I'm not the kind of cat that has 'a wonderful sense of humor'. I hate the world and it hates me, no one can cope with me. I show no mercy to any cat that meets me, no matter how young or helpless, and I have killed more than one cat in my lifetime. I am adventurous and bold, I never back down from any challenge and I do every job that I set about doing well, especially if it concerns a fight. Many say that I am beyond all hope, what do you think? Do you want to try to tame me? I dare you.
My story(are you sure you want to hear it?) - I have been an outcast since the day I was born. I should say the night I was born, for a night it was, and a cold one too. It was one of the coldest winters of the forest and of course that was when I was born. Some say that it was me that caused it, that I was so chilled to the heart even at birth that I cause the whole forest to grow cold. Huh, whatever. If I had only been that cold from the beginning I might have been spared some of the pain I went through. I was the only one out of a litter of three that survived, though I nearly died of cold and even from my mother's best attempts half of my tail became frostbitten and fell off. My mother died that night also, trying her best to keep us warm, most say it was for the best that she died then, before she saw what a monster I became.
Sometimes I really think I would have had a chance to lead a normal life if only I had had a normal beginning. But I didn't, and so I lay in that cold cave, crying from hunger and cold. No one answered my calls until I was unconscious. When I awoke from my sleep that had nearly ended in death I found myself in a warm place, a warm place that smelled of milk nearby. I nosed around and found life, warm milk. Near me I felt the presence of other kits. I stayed with that cat, who I found later was named Misha, until I was three moons old. At that age she left me, taking her own kits with her. She had done her duty, she had raised me until I was weaned and now she left without a second thought. It wasn't winter anymore, but it was still chilly at night. I did the best I could, mother nature being my teacher. I had to learn from my mistakes, some nearly killing me before I learned not to do it. Most nights I went hungry but as I got older, bigger, and stronger, I learned to hunt well and rarely went hungry.
What if my problems had stopped there? I have often asked myself that, but they didn't. I met up with another rogue, one far older than myself. He knew how to fight, I didn't, he had visions of conquering the land, and he was determined to make me have the same dreams. He began putting me through the hardest lessons that I had been through, far harder than any that mother nature had taught me. I suffered daily, minutely, secondly, my body was given no reprieve, but I clung stubbornly onto life, digging my claws in and forcing myself to learn from this demon. He was well known then as a terror, many cats feared him and were killed by him. His name was Fury, and it described him well.
After being trained by him for six moons I finally grwe strong enough to do fight alongside him. We fought together, and though I seemed to be loyal I was only waiting for a chance to break free from him, for I still lived in constant agony. I got my chance soon enough though, for he had battled a fox, stupid Fury. He had won, but he had lost. He was horribly wounded. If I had helped him he probably would have lived, but I had no intention of helping him, instead I killed him myself, finished the job that the fox had left undone.
Now I roam the forest, wreaking havoc on any cat I meet, revenge is all I ask for and it is all I get. The world is against me and so I am against it, more that one time I had been tricked and I no longer intend to be tricked. Everything I suffered I am sure is the fault of every other cat that lives, they did nothing to help me, though more than once I had seen a loner passing by and called for help. A lot of good that did, they only walked away, giving me a smack to remember them by. That is all I have seen of cats, do you wonder why I hate them?
Relationships - relationships? ha! Never again will I make that mistake, but here is my foster mother's name and my 'mentor's' name, my siblings had no names before they died.
Fury-'mentor'{dead-killed by Darkness}
Misha-foster mother
IC - Darkness slunk through the forest, blood still lingering on his black pelt from what he had just done. Adreniline surged through his body as he told himself over and over again, 'I'm free, he's gone!' It was a great feeling for him, no one clawing into his back to 'make him stronger', no one nagging him, prodding him, poking him, driving him into madness. It was too late though wasn't it? He knew it, he was already crazy, already 'messed up'. He hadn't wanted to be this way, who would want to be? His wide paws padded quickly through the forest, turned and pouncing as his quick ear caught the sound of a mouse scratching around in the leaves nearby. He skillfully killed it, for his training had not been in vain, and then gobbled it down. He flicked his short tail as he remembered that this was the first meal he had had since yesterday morning. His dark eyes burned as he thought of his harsh treatment. Oh well, it was over, and know he could replace Fury, make others feel the pain he had felt. He chuckled grimly, a chuckle that would make one's skin crawl in fear. He was complete, he was what Fury had wanted him to be, he was... Darkness.
What you see - www.cat-pregnancy-report.com/images/black-cat.jpg
What I was once called - Darkness
I am a - tom
How long I have survived - 20 moons
Who am loyal to - myself{rogue}
What my rank is - king of all that I see{as he thinks}
Me in one line - Complete black with slight feathering on tail, belly and chest, black eyes with many scars and only a half of a tail.
How you see me - I am, as my name implies, black. Not just ordinary black but that complete black that just seems to jump out at you in the day or sink into the shadows at night. Indeed, it is niegh impossible to spot me at night. My black pelt ripples on throughout my entire pelt, no other color shows and no other color is there. If you could go through my entire pelt, looking at each and every fur, you would only find black.
Each fur that you would look at would be short, sleek, and shining, unless it were on my belly or chest. If it were on my belly and chest then it would be slightly longer, softer, and duller. Also my tail has feathering on the edges. I really am handsome some have said, well they say that I would be, if it weren't for the deep and jagged scars that criss cross my skin pelt. My fur has grown over it yes, but under it the scars tell of my horrible story, the 'training' that I recieved, showing how harsh mother nature can be.
I am the regular size for a cat, though you may say I am a little on the smaller side. Perhaps it is true that I am, but even then you should not underestimate me for my muscles are many and hardened from years of mistreatment and work. My legs are a little short, fine I admit it, but that only makes them stronger, for they are quite thick and as well muscled as the rest of my body. My tail is half the size that it should be, the reason for that I shall tell you later. My paws are wide and thick.
My face, no it's not a pretty picture, for here where the fur grows shorter some of the scars show through. One crosses my right eye and it is a wonder that it isn't blinded. My nose is black, as are my whiskers and claws, which I advise you not to mess with. My eyes, though they are in reality dark brown, are often called black.
How I act(are you brave enough to know me?) - Many have said, my heart is as black as by pelt, and as cold as the night I was born on. Yes, what they say is more than likely true, though others contradict them saying that I have no heart. Whoever is right the know what they're talking about, though I don't know who they might be who has met me and lived to tell about it. Must have been spying. Anyway, I'm not the sort of cat that you mess with, I'm not the kind of cat that has 'a wonderful sense of humor'. I hate the world and it hates me, no one can cope with me. I show no mercy to any cat that meets me, no matter how young or helpless, and I have killed more than one cat in my lifetime. I am adventurous and bold, I never back down from any challenge and I do every job that I set about doing well, especially if it concerns a fight. Many say that I am beyond all hope, what do you think? Do you want to try to tame me? I dare you.
My story(are you sure you want to hear it?) - I have been an outcast since the day I was born. I should say the night I was born, for a night it was, and a cold one too. It was one of the coldest winters of the forest and of course that was when I was born. Some say that it was me that caused it, that I was so chilled to the heart even at birth that I cause the whole forest to grow cold. Huh, whatever. If I had only been that cold from the beginning I might have been spared some of the pain I went through. I was the only one out of a litter of three that survived, though I nearly died of cold and even from my mother's best attempts half of my tail became frostbitten and fell off. My mother died that night also, trying her best to keep us warm, most say it was for the best that she died then, before she saw what a monster I became.
Sometimes I really think I would have had a chance to lead a normal life if only I had had a normal beginning. But I didn't, and so I lay in that cold cave, crying from hunger and cold. No one answered my calls until I was unconscious. When I awoke from my sleep that had nearly ended in death I found myself in a warm place, a warm place that smelled of milk nearby. I nosed around and found life, warm milk. Near me I felt the presence of other kits. I stayed with that cat, who I found later was named Misha, until I was three moons old. At that age she left me, taking her own kits with her. She had done her duty, she had raised me until I was weaned and now she left without a second thought. It wasn't winter anymore, but it was still chilly at night. I did the best I could, mother nature being my teacher. I had to learn from my mistakes, some nearly killing me before I learned not to do it. Most nights I went hungry but as I got older, bigger, and stronger, I learned to hunt well and rarely went hungry.
What if my problems had stopped there? I have often asked myself that, but they didn't. I met up with another rogue, one far older than myself. He knew how to fight, I didn't, he had visions of conquering the land, and he was determined to make me have the same dreams. He began putting me through the hardest lessons that I had been through, far harder than any that mother nature had taught me. I suffered daily, minutely, secondly, my body was given no reprieve, but I clung stubbornly onto life, digging my claws in and forcing myself to learn from this demon. He was well known then as a terror, many cats feared him and were killed by him. His name was Fury, and it described him well.
After being trained by him for six moons I finally grwe strong enough to do fight alongside him. We fought together, and though I seemed to be loyal I was only waiting for a chance to break free from him, for I still lived in constant agony. I got my chance soon enough though, for he had battled a fox, stupid Fury. He had won, but he had lost. He was horribly wounded. If I had helped him he probably would have lived, but I had no intention of helping him, instead I killed him myself, finished the job that the fox had left undone.
Now I roam the forest, wreaking havoc on any cat I meet, revenge is all I ask for and it is all I get. The world is against me and so I am against it, more that one time I had been tricked and I no longer intend to be tricked. Everything I suffered I am sure is the fault of every other cat that lives, they did nothing to help me, though more than once I had seen a loner passing by and called for help. A lot of good that did, they only walked away, giving me a smack to remember them by. That is all I have seen of cats, do you wonder why I hate them?
Relationships - relationships? ha! Never again will I make that mistake, but here is my foster mother's name and my 'mentor's' name, my siblings had no names before they died.
Fury-'mentor'{dead-killed by Darkness}
Misha-foster mother
IC - Darkness slunk through the forest, blood still lingering on his black pelt from what he had just done. Adreniline surged through his body as he told himself over and over again, 'I'm free, he's gone!' It was a great feeling for him, no one clawing into his back to 'make him stronger', no one nagging him, prodding him, poking him, driving him into madness. It was too late though wasn't it? He knew it, he was already crazy, already 'messed up'. He hadn't wanted to be this way, who would want to be? His wide paws padded quickly through the forest, turned and pouncing as his quick ear caught the sound of a mouse scratching around in the leaves nearby. He skillfully killed it, for his training had not been in vain, and then gobbled it down. He flicked his short tail as he remembered that this was the first meal he had had since yesterday morning. His dark eyes burned as he thought of his harsh treatment. Oh well, it was over, and know he could replace Fury, make others feel the pain he had felt. He chuckled grimly, a chuckle that would make one's skin crawl in fear. He was complete, he was what Fury had wanted him to be, he was... Darkness.