[Meowdle]

Oof sorry for the lazy cover ^^" I’m on my tablet right now and Oekaki doesn’t work well on my iPad. I may or may not make a better cover… we’ll see!

Anywho, have a vampire cat!!

A vampiric feline that has sock-like markings on its feet. It has a snotty personality.

To enter, tell me how this cat became a vampire! Min 50 words; no Max
Now, go!! c:

This contest will end on August 14th
though this may be extended.

Code: Select all

 [b]Username:[/b]
[b]Name:[/b]
[b]Gender:[/b]
[b]Character Storage:[/b] (can be toyhou.se, sta.sh, chicken smoothie thread, a site, ect.)
[b]Response:[/b]

Have fun and be creative, ya’ll!! <3


Winner: /nyx.

[gardog]

Username: gardog
Name: Fluffers
Gender: Male
Character Storage: bloop
Response: He was a lab staff cat that accidentally waltzed into the lab during an experiment on a colony of vampire bats that seemed to actually be able to turn other animals into creatures that needed occasional blood for nutrition. In other words, these vampire bats seemed to be actual vampires. So far it seems that they are unable to turn larger animals, such as humans, but smaller animals, such as poor Fluffers, are cursed with the need to feed. Miraculously, Fluffers seems generally unaffected besides growing some sharper, longer fangs and requiring that cow blood be added to his food bowl, along with his normal food, everyday.

[Meowdle]

bump! <3

[/nyx.]

Username: /nyx.
Name: Fangs
Gender: male
Character Storage: here
Response: (my original plan was a snotty yet vicious vampire cat who takes over the world, but then this happened...)

In an unassuming pocket of the universe, a black cat sits on an elegant desk inside of an elegant office. He sits silently, licking his fur, acting understandably cat-like. After all, for all his importance, he is — first and foremost — a cat.

Just then, a knife shoots through an open doorway. As soon as it comes flashing in, the cat shrieks, leaping up into the air. The knife thunks into the wall, right behind the position of the cat’s heart just a few moments ago.

Falsely undisturbed, the Angel of Death strides into their office.

The mostly normal cat glares at the Angel, hanging onto a shelf by the claws.

The Angel clears their throat. “You,” they say with a pointed look, “should be more careful. As my only friend, I would loathe to lose you.”

To this, the cat scoffs. “Only friend?” he repeats incredulously. “I have seen you speaking to souls as if you’ve known them their entire lives!” In a terrible attempt to replicate this, the feline lowers his voice dramatically and cries, “Oh, Phoebus! I’ve not seen you in years! How do you do today?!”

The Angel curls their lips in a cat-like manner — a bad, unangelic habit, likely one that rubbed off on them from spending so much time with a cat. “I do not sound like that,” the Angel disagrees. They correct their previous mistake: “You, Fangs, are my only living non-human friend.”

Fangs huffs. “That’s only because the other creatures are too cowardly to face death. My bravery makes me superior to them.” He sticks out a paw. “Treat.”

Like a sentient treat dispenser, the Angel plops a kitty treat into Fangs’ open paw, then bristles. “You underestimate how crucial your life is to me.” They emphasize, “Should I lose you, I might never see you again. An afterlife for pets not bound to a mortal doesn’t exist.”

Ignoring the emotion in that statement, Fangs rolls his eyes. “Cats have nine lines and my intuition is much stronger than most creatures. Now if I were that dumb bluejay from yesterday, you should be worrying. I am not a bluejay. I dodged a knife. Stop worrying.”

“I suppose you’re right,” the Angel of Death decides. They warily pat Fangs on the head, then start working their way through a mountain of paperwork.

—

Of course, Fangs manages to get hit by a car the very next day. Notice: cats do not literally have nine lives. He was only saying that to make a certain Angel feel better.

—

Hours later, an Angel stands in a circle of miscellaneous magical items, glowering at their luck. “You,” they hiss, “are the most useless, bothersome, ridiculous feline I have ever met.”

Power rises from the not-actually-earth, flooding the room with energy — specifically life energy, and need someone remind you, they are an Angel of Death.

Luckily, the ritual goes much better than planned. Some chanting and channeling later, a black-furred feline appears, seemingly no worse for wear.

That is, until he snaps his teeth. “I feel an irresistible need for blood,” Fangs deadpans, and the Angel of Death eyes Fangs’ much sharper fangs cautiously.

“I may have,” they admit, “just-now accidentally turned you into a vampire.”

Fangs blinks. “That is literally something only you could accidentally do. Is there a way to change me back?”

The Angel of Death shakes their head.

“Well then,” Fangs purrs arrogantly. “I am the most influential vampire cat alive.” He commands his Angel, “Bring me to the human who hit me with their car. I want to suck their blood.”

[Meowdle]

May I request a three-day extension?

Sure thing! I think I'll actually extend this a week since there's not many entries, so the new due date is on August 20th!

[Meowdle]

Username: /nyx.
Name: Fangs
Gender: male
Character Storage: here
Response: (my original plan was a snotty yet vicious vampire cat who takes over the world, but then this happened...)

In an unassuming pocket of the universe, a black cat sits on an elegant desk inside of an elegant office. He sits silently, licking his fur, acting understandably cat-like. After all, for all his importance, he is — first and foremost — a cat.

Just then, a knife shoots through an open doorway. As soon as it comes flashing in, the cat shrieks, leaping up into the air. The knife thunks into the wall, right behind the position of the cat’s heart just a few moments ago.

Falsely undisturbed, the Angel of Death strides into their office.

The mostly normal cat glares at the Angel, hanging onto a shelf by the claws.

The Angel clears their throat. “You,” they say with a pointed look, “should be more careful. As my only friend, I would loathe to lose you.”

To this, the cat scoffs. “Only friend?” he repeats incredulously. “I have seen you speaking to souls as if you’ve known them their entire lives!” In a terrible attempt to replicate this, the feline lowers his voice dramatically and cries, “Oh, Phoebus! I’ve not seen you in years! How do you do today?!”

The Angel curls their lips in a cat-like manner — a bad, unangelic habit, likely one that rubbed off on them from spending so much time with a cat. “I do not sound like that,” the Angel disagrees. They correct their previous mistake: “You, Fangs, are my only living non-human friend.”

Fangs huffs. “That’s only because the other creatures are too cowardly to face death. My bravery makes me superior to them.” He sticks out a paw. “Treat.”

Like a sentient treat dispenser, the Angel plops a kitty treat into Fangs’ open paw, then bristles. “You underestimate how crucial your life is to me.” They emphasize, “Should I lose you, I might never see you again. An afterlife for pets not bound to a mortal doesn’t exist.”

Ignoring the emotion in that statement, Fangs rolls his eyes. “Cats have nine lines and my intuition is much stronger than most creatures. Now if I were that dumb bluejay from yesterday, you should be worrying. I am not a bluejay. I dodged a knife. Stop worrying.”

“I suppose you’re right,” the Angel of Death decides. They warily pat Fangs on the head, then start working their way through a mountain of paperwork.

—

Of course, Fangs manages to get hit by a car the very next day. Notice: cats do not literally have nine lives. He was only saying that to make a certain Angel feel better.

—

Hours later, an Angel stands in a circle of miscellaneous magical items, glowering at their luck. “You,” they hiss, “are the most useless, bothersome, ridiculous feline I have ever met.”

Power rises from the not-actually-earth, flooding the room with energy — specifically life energy, and need someone remind you, they are an Angel of Death.

Luckily, the ritual goes much better than planned. Some chanting and channeling later, a black-furred feline appears, seemingly no worse for wear.

That is, until he snaps his teeth. “I feel an irresistible need for blood,” Fangs deadpans, and the Angel of Death eyes Fangs’ much sharper fangs cautiously.

“I may have,” they admit, “just-now accidentally turned you into a vampire.”

Fangs blinks. “That is literally something only you could accidentally do. Is there a way to change me back?”

The Angel of Death shakes their head.

“Well then,” Fangs purrs arrogantly. “I am the most influential vampire cat alive.” He commands his Angel, “Bring me to the human who hit me with their car. I want to suck their blood.”

You win!! I loved reading your story, the characterization of Fangs and his interactions with the Angel of Death were fantastic! Enjoy this kitty <3

[/nyx.]

Thank you! Fangs will do his best to terrorize the human world.