Post by Shad on Oct 26, 2015 3:35:20 GMT
  general info
APPEARANCE
Sweetie is a goddamn mountain. This isn't a cat. This is a MUTANT CAT! No, really. It is. Frigging twolegs can't leave well enough alone! This cat is the size of a BOBCAT! It could take down a rhino! (What's a rhino? Well, I think its like a badger but with a claw coming out of its head for some reason. Super creepy, right?) Anyway! Sweetie is huge. Frigging really, really huge. I cannot stress this enough. Just look at the Shad-Size-O-Meter. It's broken! She broken the frigging scale! Moving past the size, which is nearly impossible because she is FRIGGING HUGE!, Sweetie has very big ears, characteristic of her breeding. She also has an abnormally long tail (for a Serval hybrid). For a cat her tail is about normal length, maybe even a bit short, but for Servals/Savannahs, who are known for their short or half-tails, it is exceptionally long. Sweetie does have a small face and it is not very expressive. That is to say, it really only manages to make three expressions: Rage. Arrogance.and Arrogance. What's that? I said Arrogance twice? Yeah, well, that counts for two. Trust me. Her fur is short and golden with a myriad of black spots. Her nose is pink and black. Her eyes are blue-green with amber rings near the iris, so lets just go with hazel. Her tail has black stripes. And she has fangs by the way. As big as a cat's claw. You definitely do not want to see the working end of those puppies. Trust me. They could eat real puppies for breakfast and, with this shecat's temperment, those might just be on the menu so keep your kits and small apprentices close. You don't want them to become Snack Time.  personality
Sweetie is the sweetiest little kitty you could ever meet. That is the thought this shecat's mother had in mind when she named her youngest daughter. It was a nice thought, but failed utterly. This cat is nothing short of a menace. She is stubborn and pushy and so straight-forward as to have no sense of tact or filtering. Admittedly, it might have had something to do with growing up around a family that ignored her on the best days, ran from her on the worst, and dumped her in the wilderness to die all alone -but we'll get to that. Sweetie is... a bit hard to palate for most cats. She takes some getting used to, that much is for sure. And then, after the initial stage of horror passes she is... somehow even worse. She is brash and annoying and persistent and never shuts up and never lets the subject drop! Underneath all these annoying factors, Sweetie does genuinely wish for friendship and family. While she is (over)confident in her battle and hunt prowess, she struggles with interpersonal relations, often confounded by actions others do that seem strange or foreign to her. Her concepts of love and affection are drastically warped -perhaps irrepairably. Growing up around cats that felt everything rotten between hatred to terror in relation to her, spawned by a mad murderer to become a monster, and left in isolation for untold moons, it is no mystery how the 'sweet' shecat became what she is. That just leaves the question... Can she still become something else? Or is it already too late?
HISTORY How would you feel if you were bred for a living? Yeah. Not a great conversation starter but, hey, definite perks right? You never have to really 'work' a day in your life except to breed and that's super fun! Right? What? You say the cat the twolegs paired you with is a rabid, insane monster? You say you hate each other's guts? And every mating is a fight for your life? Well, sucks for you my friend but you just gotta deal. That is your lot in life so you had better make the most of it. By the way, while some (3) of your kits had issues, the rest were perfectly healthy! Congrats! All those healthy kits were now shipped off into who-knows-where and you will never see them again! Isn't that great?! Wooo! ^ This is the life of Sweetie's mother. This is the life Sweetie was supposed to inherit. This is the life she resoundingly rejected. Growing up with two older sisters, Sweetie, Apple, and Scootie were all 'damaged' in their own ways. Apple was cross eyed, not fit for sale. Scootie broke her back legs at a young age, not fit for sale. And Sweeite... Sweetie was just too damn mean to be sold to anyone. Crossing a half-breed serval-housecat with a fullbred serval is a horrible idea, by all accounts, especially when you in-breed them. And yet, this is what the owners of Sweetie's parents thought was a good idea. Needless to say, they learned from their mistake. Sweetie was a vermin as a kit, a terror as a teen, and by adulthood, she was absolutely impossible, attacking everyone and everything from the other cats to the twolegs themselves. She was not just hostile, she was down right vicious! Terrified by what they had made, the twolegs sedated her and drove off with the beast. They tossed her out on the edge of a mountain range. She was wild, so they only did what was best. She would either learn to live or (as they hoped while nursing their claw wounds and buying new furniture) die out painfully and quickly. Sweetie did the first and she did it with astounding skill. That first summer was the highlight of the beast's life. Nothing controlled her. Nothing held her back. She was wild. She was free. She was everything the walls and cages and twolegs would never have let her be. She was fierce and deadly, a terror on the range that even the larger mountain lions learned to fear. She lived like a cat with a death wish, courting and dancing with danger in reckless abandon. She did not care. She could die tomorrow or even today and would be worth it to feel the taste of freedom on her lips all the while. That was true sweetness. That intoxicating freedom of spirit and body as she tore over the grounds, roaring and calling out her claim to life into the day and night. Free. Free. FREE! But all things come to an end, and so did that summer. Sweetie was confused by the changing seasons. The cold weather was nothing she had felt, caged inside the twoleg's prison, and descended from African cats, she had no instincts to warn her of the terrors of winter or snow. She would have died if not for a family of bobcats. The bobcats knew how to survive. She did not. She tackled this problem just as she had everything else in her life. She terrorized them. She beat the Alpha, the Father of the Family, into submission, forcing them to allow her to stay, and to feed her. In those cold winter months, Sweetie learned how to hunt, find shelter, and fend for herself in the bitter snows. She learned what her limits were, and cursed her short coat many a snowy night. Perhaps even more important than all that, Sweetie learned about family, for the first time in her life. She watched the bobcat mother care for her kittens. She watched the mates express 'love' for one another by brushing their cheeks and twirling their tales. She watched the bobcat kits play, sometimes roughly, but always with care not to hurt or maim or kill. Sweetie watched all this... and felt cheated. Why had her family never had this? Why had her mother never cuddled her close? Why had her father been nothing more than a madman? Why had her sisters never tried to play with her? Sweetie spent the whole winter with that family. She had intended to kill them when spring came. The bobcats knew this as well as she did and the Father tried to gather his strength as best he could when the snows melted. Both cats were predators. Plain and simple. They could not accept one another on 'their' land and to allow the other to escape would broadcast weakness to any potential invader nearby. When the last of the snows finally melted and the Father prepared himself for death Sweetie, who had thought nothing of the cost of battle and rage and fighting all her life... walked away. She told the family to stay. She told them the land was theirs and thanked them for their assistance. The bobcats hissed and spat at her, suspecting a vile trick from the beast that had held their kits hostage for so many moons, but Sweetie simply left them. Spring, and the world outside, blossomed but its sweetness was soured. The savannah could not find the same joy in in her freedom as she now saw the curse it bared: She might be free, but she would never have a family. She would be forever alone. She was too different. Too hostile. Too short tempered. She tried to befriend a mountain lion once, but the beast stole her food and she had to fight for each scrap. She tried to join a tribe of tiny cats she found in the farthest edge of the mountain range, but they thought her a vile spirit and attempted to kill her. Several times. In large groups. Damn cats. Beleaguered and alone, Sweetie gave up. She would have no family, no friends. She was too strange, too large, too wild, for any beast to tolerate for long. As the spring dragged on into summer the shecat ran with a group of rogue cats for a time. She ordered them about and they eagerly followed someone stronger and more powerful than they. This gave Sweetie no joy though. She would have killed the irritating hangers-on if not for her memories of the bobcats. These cats were tiny, but they had lives too. They looked to her for protection because they themselves were weak. They were mothers and fathers and sisters and brothers. They had what she yearned for and was always denied. To kill one was to kill them all and Sweetie... just did not have the stomach for it anymore. Eventually, near Sweetie's second summer's close, one of the family of rogues left. This interested Sweetie greatly. These rogues held no love for her, personally, but they held a great deal of caring for one another. Why would one leave? Apparently he had gone to seek his fortune with a new group of cats, forming past the mountains. These cats, these 'clans', took in all who could aide in their strength and worked as a family of strangers. Sweetie's attention was held quite firmly now. The rogue was foolish, truly. He had left his family behind to weep and mourn his loss, for no cat could make such a long trek and survive. Even at top speed it would take Sweetie herself at least a season to reach the far distant lands where these whispers and rumors took root, and the featherbrained tom was nothing compared to the powerful serval. No cat. -But Sweetie was not a cat. Not really. She was a monster, and for the first time in her life that seemed to be working in her favor. She set out without delay, leaving the rogues to fend for themselves as they had been doing before they stumbled upon her, although she did use her large size and strength to help move some boulders for them, creating dens and shelter that would last for many moons to come in exchange for the strange company they had offered her the past moons. Sweetie spent most of autumn traveling. The world had already started to frost over by the time she reached it. Now the whispers and rumors had burst out into legend and tales and grand stories. She looked out over the new land with fierce excitement and determination. This. This would be her new home. These Clan cats would accept her freely or she would force their paws but either way, this would be it. She had traveled too far to be turned away now. This would be her home. This would be where she put down her roots and finally had a family. And she dared any cat to try to stop her. THREAD TRACKER This section is not necessary, but is provided if a member wishes to keep track of the threads that this character participates in. | ooc info  ☆ NAME☆ your ooc name ☆ OTHER CHARACTERS☆ n/a if none |