Username: Arrikanez
Cat Name: Born Under A Bad Sign
Gender: Male
Rank: Frightcrew
Clan: The Dark CarnivalAge: 2.1
Prompt:When Chroma stole/rescued Sign - or at that point, Jack Stein, from his torment, the physical reminders of his torture remained no matter how hard Chroma sought to reshape his body before dumping his soul inside of it. Some god or another
other than the chaotic being had machinations on Jack's fate, and had made sure that his punishment had followed him through that life, and into the next. Each and every scar on his body has a name attached to it, and a story behind it. Jack always insisted he wasn't a BAD kid, just made bad choices. Those choices ended up shaping his body in more ways than one. By the time he hit the age of his majority, he was already so battered and beaten by the throes of a life full of unwise relationships, and hardship that he was barely recognizable as the soft, sweet streetkid he started as.
His first scar was the bites on his ankle. The job had been an easy one - and his first. The client had promised payment upfront, and more to come if there was proof a certain item was placed on the desk of the victim before the robbery was completed. Of course, out of everyone in his group, he was the one chosen for this mission because he was both a newbie, and very adept at moving without being seen. Unfortunately, he was also facing off against a doberman that was
also adept at moving without being seen.
The next set of scars riddled his back and sides. Several years after his first botched job, his path had brought him to be in close contact with a woman who stated she would make it worthwhile if he was to trail a certain other woman for a few days, and report back. All was going well - that was, until his supposed ally in the venture turned snitch, and blabbed his location to the woman's bodyguards. They came armed with blades and rifles. For his 'discretion', he got a sword to the back, and several grazes from bullet shots that were
way too close for comfort. Nearly died, and walked away with his back mauled to heck and back.
Bad choices led to both his legs and nose, both slashed up by barbed wire as he had vaulted over a fence that he had been TOLD was free of the stuff. Unfortunately, by the time he had to hightail it out of the mansion they were robbing, he didn't have time or freedom to check and find a way around it. Cue the lacerated legs, nose, and hands - as there were also scars on his pawpads in this form as there had been on his hands. The blood loss had been minimal, since he had been running with the streetdoc who hired them, and had been patched up quickly enough - but that failure had cost him that commission as well as his position in that particular gang.
It was the last set of scars that really drove home the point. The scars across his throat. It had been winter, several months after his last botched robbery, and he'd been starting a new job at the laundromat when he was captured. He was told nothing. He was shown no kindness, minus daily meals, and ample water. But the rest of the time it was torture - plain and simple. He was beaten, kicked, dragged around by chains, tied to a chair at one point, and had his whole life torn apart, and shoved into his face as a bad idea. Whoever it was getting even with him went a little overboard, even for the roughed-up life he'd lived up until then.
What finally ended it was a decision handed down from the big-bad that had him - not that he ever knew who that was. The last thing he remembered were two guys with physiques he didn't want to mess with, drawing twin blades across his throat in different directions. Then, it had all gone dark and suffocating... up until he woke up with four paws, fur, and a tail.
Of course, he had no choice but to accept what had happened. Chroma apologized profusely for not managing to rid the new body of the scars that plagued his last - but he was secretly grateful the cat-deity couldn't. Those scars were memories. Reminders. Mistakes he would avoid making again. Even if the other cats laughed at him - and some had - they were things that he had to cling to tightly, to burn into his mind and commit to memory. Because if he didn't? He was bound to make the same mistakes over and over again - and he would be a canvas of bad choices. Best he had the remnants of those choices so he could avoid making them this time. Perhaps that was what Chroma meant - as when he had first appeared here, the deity had been preaching 'Salvation' and 'Redemption' like it was going out of style.
Sign still didn't know exactly what he meant by it... but he was willing to stick around and find out - if only to prevent his tapestry of pain and poor common sense from meaning absolutely nothing at all.
