Post by fjeld on Oct 27, 2008 1:35:17 GMT -5
Name
Fjeld
(Feh-jell-d)
a.k.a-The Mad Hatter
Age
30
Gender
Female
Personality
Fjeld is far from your average cat; slightly insane but more along the lines of crazed, paranoid, possessed, kitty, and you could call her insane, or mad, but that just goes to show her nick name is true to tale. She is a murderous, cannibalistic, evil she-cat, and her objective in battle is to take it slow, and have fun with it. The most crazed she’s ever been known to come to, would be to the point where she will murmur phrases of a prophecy created by herself to herself and go into a hazy trance, all the while having intimate conversations with any inanimate object near her. And the most devilish she’s ever come to would be to the point where she’ll kill any living creature she can find just for fun, and then move onto the next.
In her random trances that occur in her, she’ll stumble around at night supposedly asking Starclan and some other religious force why the sky is blue or maybe why cats have fur and not scales, or why fir trees are cone shaped and not squares, or any other question everyone seems to wonder and never find out. The depth to her is definitely never-ending. She is on an average scale a pretty calm cat, depending on the time of day, really. The later it gets the more excitable she seems.
Description
Fjeld is a mixed breed cat. Partly a cross between an Abyssian and Somali cat if you had to guess. She has medium length silver fur that is silky to the touch. Her chest fur and belly fur are a light honey color, quite opposite to that of her other fur color and the places where this honey fur is feel rough and coarse. Around her left eye is a ring of the light honey colored fur that resembles a heart shape, slightly distorted but almost an exact heart. Her tail is like a painters brush, and is practically immune to tangles; it too is a soft silver and curls at the tip when she is pleased, or amused. Her grin is as charming as staring at a smiling piranha, I wouldn’t call it that attractive, with her blood stained teeth that take on a slightly green tint from eating leaves in her odd trances, and every single one of them is sharply pointed. A small chain hangs daintily around her neck that appears to be the same type of chain from a dog’s choke chain, but more appealing to look at for some reason. She is a tall, lean cat, built for speed and stamina rather than strength, but still strong and well muscled.
History
“Where are we, mother?”
A small silver kitten asked, her little feathery tail tucked under her as she trailed her mother, her three other smaller siblings at her side; shivering and fearful. They were all different colors but each had the same build and body shape. Their mother was a dark blue color with light silvery colored fur on her sides, belly, and chest; and her expression was unreadable as she glanced from side to side, her feather duster, tail lashing left to right.
“We’re so close little ones, just one more road to cross.”
The she-cat whispered in a voice just loud enough for the four frightened kits behind her to hear. She glanced around the corner of the alley they hid in, cars rushing by and the smell of garbage, smoke, and gasoline shrouded the area, choking the five cats.
“This is the last road, I promise, and then we’re safe, forever. Just follow me, and stay right at my side and you’ll all be fine.”
The she-cat said softly, her voice rattling with worry. The kits stared at her as they readied themselves to cross the road, the little silver kit bunching her muscles to spring when the time came. The she-cat paused, then darted onto the road narrowly avoiding the first car. The kits flew after her, panting as they tried to keep up, there ribs showing and there pelts hanging from there frames, malnourishment weakening them and slowing them down. The silver kit was bigger than the rest and stronger; she darted around cars and kept up with her mother. She was almost to the end when her paw caught on a knick in the road tripping her as she flopped onto the ground. She struggled up but it was too late as another car came thundering towards her, slamming into her side and sending her flying onto the sidewalk. Blood ran down he face in trickles as her mother dragged her into the bushes and stopped her bleeding, but the silver kit had a concussion and was in a coma for three days. She woke up to see her mother lying in front of her, her body ripped open and her fur soaked in blood; her broken and cracked ribs sticking out of her opened side, the three other kits huddled under a large rock. The silver kit walked over to them and sat in front of the rock, a horrified look on her face.
“What…happened?”
She asked, the other kits hurriedly explained to her that a coyote had eaten her while she slept. The silver kit replayed the mental image in her mind, as it mulled over and twisted her thoughts, her eyes clouded and stared out blankly over the horizon. She sat there for hours and then began to laugh. A small little giggle at first, until it ascended into a maniac cackle and a wide grin spread over her face. She stared at her siblings, her eyes now filled with a deep hunger in them as the image continued to replay. And then she was twisted into a world where she was no longer a cat; killing off, and eating her siblings one by one while listening to their screams and cries of pain, enjoying every drop of blood and screech or fear.
From that day on she was a murderer, cannibal and insane cat, as she grew and traveled in circles and killing off whatever she could. Eventually she wandered onto the streets again and was caught by a man who worked for the pound. They put a thin, delicate chain around her neck, attaching it to a metal pole by a small, rusty clip. There were no cages but extremely short chains to hold all the animals back from each other, and little Fjeld had good enough luck to get the rustiest, oldest, and weakest clip they had, making it take only an hour for her to chew, and scratch the clip till it cracked; landing at her feet in pieces. From there she somehow found her way into Rouge meadow…
Other
Yeah...she has...problems
-exhale-
Fjeld
(Feh-jell-d)
a.k.a-The Mad Hatter
Age
30
Gender
Female
Personality
Fjeld is far from your average cat; slightly insane but more along the lines of crazed, paranoid, possessed, kitty, and you could call her insane, or mad, but that just goes to show her nick name is true to tale. She is a murderous, cannibalistic, evil she-cat, and her objective in battle is to take it slow, and have fun with it. The most crazed she’s ever been known to come to, would be to the point where she will murmur phrases of a prophecy created by herself to herself and go into a hazy trance, all the while having intimate conversations with any inanimate object near her. And the most devilish she’s ever come to would be to the point where she’ll kill any living creature she can find just for fun, and then move onto the next.
In her random trances that occur in her, she’ll stumble around at night supposedly asking Starclan and some other religious force why the sky is blue or maybe why cats have fur and not scales, or why fir trees are cone shaped and not squares, or any other question everyone seems to wonder and never find out. The depth to her is definitely never-ending. She is on an average scale a pretty calm cat, depending on the time of day, really. The later it gets the more excitable she seems.
Description
Fjeld is a mixed breed cat. Partly a cross between an Abyssian and Somali cat if you had to guess. She has medium length silver fur that is silky to the touch. Her chest fur and belly fur are a light honey color, quite opposite to that of her other fur color and the places where this honey fur is feel rough and coarse. Around her left eye is a ring of the light honey colored fur that resembles a heart shape, slightly distorted but almost an exact heart. Her tail is like a painters brush, and is practically immune to tangles; it too is a soft silver and curls at the tip when she is pleased, or amused. Her grin is as charming as staring at a smiling piranha, I wouldn’t call it that attractive, with her blood stained teeth that take on a slightly green tint from eating leaves in her odd trances, and every single one of them is sharply pointed. A small chain hangs daintily around her neck that appears to be the same type of chain from a dog’s choke chain, but more appealing to look at for some reason. She is a tall, lean cat, built for speed and stamina rather than strength, but still strong and well muscled.
History
“Where are we, mother?”
A small silver kitten asked, her little feathery tail tucked under her as she trailed her mother, her three other smaller siblings at her side; shivering and fearful. They were all different colors but each had the same build and body shape. Their mother was a dark blue color with light silvery colored fur on her sides, belly, and chest; and her expression was unreadable as she glanced from side to side, her feather duster, tail lashing left to right.
“We’re so close little ones, just one more road to cross.”
The she-cat whispered in a voice just loud enough for the four frightened kits behind her to hear. She glanced around the corner of the alley they hid in, cars rushing by and the smell of garbage, smoke, and gasoline shrouded the area, choking the five cats.
“This is the last road, I promise, and then we’re safe, forever. Just follow me, and stay right at my side and you’ll all be fine.”
The she-cat said softly, her voice rattling with worry. The kits stared at her as they readied themselves to cross the road, the little silver kit bunching her muscles to spring when the time came. The she-cat paused, then darted onto the road narrowly avoiding the first car. The kits flew after her, panting as they tried to keep up, there ribs showing and there pelts hanging from there frames, malnourishment weakening them and slowing them down. The silver kit was bigger than the rest and stronger; she darted around cars and kept up with her mother. She was almost to the end when her paw caught on a knick in the road tripping her as she flopped onto the ground. She struggled up but it was too late as another car came thundering towards her, slamming into her side and sending her flying onto the sidewalk. Blood ran down he face in trickles as her mother dragged her into the bushes and stopped her bleeding, but the silver kit had a concussion and was in a coma for three days. She woke up to see her mother lying in front of her, her body ripped open and her fur soaked in blood; her broken and cracked ribs sticking out of her opened side, the three other kits huddled under a large rock. The silver kit walked over to them and sat in front of the rock, a horrified look on her face.
“What…happened?”
She asked, the other kits hurriedly explained to her that a coyote had eaten her while she slept. The silver kit replayed the mental image in her mind, as it mulled over and twisted her thoughts, her eyes clouded and stared out blankly over the horizon. She sat there for hours and then began to laugh. A small little giggle at first, until it ascended into a maniac cackle and a wide grin spread over her face. She stared at her siblings, her eyes now filled with a deep hunger in them as the image continued to replay. And then she was twisted into a world where she was no longer a cat; killing off, and eating her siblings one by one while listening to their screams and cries of pain, enjoying every drop of blood and screech or fear.
From that day on she was a murderer, cannibal and insane cat, as she grew and traveled in circles and killing off whatever she could. Eventually she wandered onto the streets again and was caught by a man who worked for the pound. They put a thin, delicate chain around her neck, attaching it to a metal pole by a small, rusty clip. There were no cages but extremely short chains to hold all the animals back from each other, and little Fjeld had good enough luck to get the rustiest, oldest, and weakest clip they had, making it take only an hour for her to chew, and scratch the clip till it cracked; landing at her feet in pieces. From there she somehow found her way into Rouge meadow…
Other
Yeah...she has...problems
-exhale-
