[Neah]

You guys only have a few hours left so get your forms in.

[Novi]

edited in my form vuv good luck, everyone!

[Dinolil1]

Good luck to you too, Underfaker.

[Neah]

Username: underfaker
Cat Name: Blank
Gender: Male
How'd he get those scars?:told in bipedal/anthro form
---
"Stop! Thief!"
Rothbart's head whipped around as a young she-cat screeched as a cat in a black cloak darted off, a bag of loot (which, Rothbart assumed, belonged to the she-cat) clenched tightly in his paws.
Momentarily forgetting about the reason he was there, Rothbart bared his fangs and bolted after the mysterious thief, weaving in and out of the crowd. He narrowly avoided slamming into a tall, burly tom - "Hey! Stupid runt, watch where you're going!" cried the brute in anger - but didn't let that deter him. He was solely focused on nabbing the bandit and getting the coin purse back.
They ran through the crowded marketplace, dodging incoming travelers and overall causing mayhem wherever they went. Occasionally, Rothbart would be just a hair away from catching the cloaked thief, but the criminal would always manage to find some way to throw Rothbart back - whether it be by knocking over a barrel of apples, or veering sharply to the left was anyone's guess.
And so this went on for a while. In all reality, it was only for about fifteen minutes, but to those two involved, it felt like hours.
---
Heavy panting, sweaty paws. The thief rounded a corner and screeched to a sudden halt, blue eyes widening in fearful realization.
A dead end. He was caught.
---
Rothbart nearly slid past the alleyway the thief dipped into, but quickly grounded his footing and launched himself at the criminal, giving a fearsome cry. The thief, in return, squealed like a stuck pig, giving one last futile attempt to escape but ultimately failing his goal. Rothbart caught him by his arm, roughly throwing the bandit to the cold, hard concrete. A soft "oomph" escaped the cloaked figure - the wind was effectively knocked out of him, but Rothbart was too hyped up on adrenaline to care.
"Paws where I can see 'em, crook," Rothbart growled lowly. "You're under arrest for petty theft and evading arrest. You have the right to remain-"
Rothbart paused, eyes fixed on the crook's right shoulder - which was protruding out of the cloak due to having probably been sprained (or broken) when he was thrown to the ground. A small patch of fur was missing, and where there should have been shoulder fluff, a tiny black '13' was tattooed onto the skin - however, a red 'x' had been tattooed through it.
Rothbart knew that symbol. He'd know it from anywhere.
"...You're one of Woody's guys, aren't you?"
---
The drive to the sheriff's station downtown was fairly short, and the trip to the interrogation room was even quicker. Rothbart unlocked the door and gently nudged the unknown tom into the room, pointing towards a wooden chair that stood opposite to one identical to it - the only thing between them was a long, metal table. "Take a seat, boy. Now, we can do this the easy way, or we can do this the hard way. You don't look like a guy who wants to waste my time, but I wouldn't put it past you if you're really one of Woodchip's informants. Now, let's start with the basics, kid. What's your name?"
The tom sat down quietly, looking down before glancing up at Rothbart bitterly. "...I'm not much younger than you. Why do you call me 'kid?'"
Rothbart smirked. "So we're gonna do this the hard way then, right?"
"I never said that."
The calico leaned forward, narrowed green eyes piercing into those of blue. "Look, buddy. Cut the crap. We both know why you're here."
"All you can clock me on is petty theft and evading arrest," the tom muttered quietly. "That's the equivalent to one year in jail, max."
"Ah, that's where you're wrong, kiddo," Rothbart smirked once more. "Judging from that neat tattoo on your shoulder, I'd say we can hold you in police custody for at least three. Unless," At this, he leaned forward, "you tell us what you know about Woodchip and his gang."
The tom tried to keep up a tough facade. He really did. But the look in his eyes told Rothbart exactly what he wanted to hear.
"...Fine. What do you wanna know?"
---
this final part is summarized, for the story was getting too long
After chatting with the tom for a while, Rothbart soon discovered that this was his and Woodchip's childhood friend, Blank. (Woodchip, Blank, Rothbart, and a she-cat were best friends at one point in their adolescent years.) Blank revealed that he'd started working for Woodchip shortly after Rothbart moved away with his family. Woodchip had apparently come up with a scheme to overthrow the police force after an incident in which they [the police force] had wrongly accused Woodchip's older brother of arsonry/treason and had him executed. One night, Woodchip ordered Blank to murder his girlfriend's father (who was the police chief at the time). Out of fear that his girlfriend would leave him because of this - or worse - Blank refused, causing Woodchip to grow furious and order his goons attack him for his defiance. Blank earned those nasty scars from Woodchip's fury, and now lives in constant fear of what Woodchip would do to him if he were to disobey him any more.

tl;dr:: Blank earned his scars because of a former friend, who is now a gang leader. Blank works for this friend, and, after acting defiant towards his friend's orders, was attacked by his friend's 'bodyguards.'

I really liked the creativity in this. Congrats, you win him. ^^

[Novi]

squeaKS
thank you so much!! ;D;
and so the au grows