[harvestberry]

Development comp! Tell me why this kitty has so many scars.

Ends February 8th at CS Rollover

Code: Select all

[b]Username:[/b]
[b]Cat Name:[/b]
[b]Gender:[/b]
[b]Rank:[/b]
[b]Clan:[/b] (Please link)
[b]Age:[/b] (1 year or above)
[b]Prompt:[/b]

x
Name: Quicksnare
Gender: Female
Rank: N/A
Clan: Enurian
Description: chocolate-based sunshine braided tabby with high white
Age: Senior adult
Edits: [NR] Scars, Expression, [C] Pointed Ears, Min. Fur Edits
Owner: Archaeopteryx.

[11thLegacy]

Username: Arrikanez
Cat Name: Born Under A Bad Sign
Gender: Male
Rank: Frightcrew
Clan: The Dark Carnival
Age: 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.

[Mooshyy]

Username: mooshyy
Cat Name: maplehoney
Gender: male | he/him
Rank: guard
Clan: hollowclan
Age: 32 moons
Prompt:

wip: clumsy and defensive

[Adamented]

Username: Adamented
Cat Name: Kynsi
Gender: androgynous (they/them)
Rank: Gladehunter
Clan: [x] Gladewood
Age: 4 years
Prompt:

Kynsi once lived in the mountains, they lived with the Tribe of Towering Spires where their main source of food in the prey-sparse stone formations of the higher mountains was birds of prey. As a young apprentice, they were once picked up by a golden eagle, the bite on their hind leg is from their previous tribemate trying to stop them from being taken, they were lucky to survive and had to stay in the healer's den for almost a whole moon to recover from the deep talon marks on their pelt. In the mountains, scars from talons were like proof of valor, the more you had the more you were respected.

They weren't happy going out to risk their life in the mountains every day and felt like an outsider for most of their young life, not as excited about the risk as some of the others in their tribe. When the Wanderers came through the mountains, Kynsi was accepted and took a new name inspired by their home and where they came from- "Kynsi" meaning "Talon".

[néktar]

Username: néktar
Cat Name: honeytail
Gender: fluid
Rank: hunter
Clan: pondclan
Age: 48 moons
Prompt:

[Beezhivez]

Username: Beezhivez
Cat Name: Pitri
Gender: Demiboy (They/He)
Rank: Storyteller
Clan: Wanderers of the Bay
Age: 3 years
Prompt:

Pitri isn't native to the shores. Once upon a moon he ran among moors and hills,fauna running away and hiding under bushes and into grasses. His home claimed such wide territories, the center of it all fading from glades to trees, to a forest. Flowers that no one here knows about blooming with names so enchanting that even warriors are pulled into his stories. Fauna that some say don't exist lived at his home, called the forest their own. An area only allowed entry by those who knew of it, and respected of it.

Magitastiva.

It was not just a forest, the land was alive, knowing..

If you insulted it, the lands would reject you, for she heard and saw all. She would not let you starve, but she would make it challenging for you. The forest was a stern land, but not cruel. She was kind, kind enough even to give the ones that lived there those that completed their soul. They could do what no cat could do, they were the half they needed, ones who protected and provided and lived with them to the very end.

Their winged brethren: birds.

Pitri had their own half, a regal eagle with feathers of the sun itself, a beak of yellow tinted with ink. His name was Regali, stoic and calm in his own nature, but he cared for Pitri, he cared for his feline half so very much.

But then, those jealous of the land's peace intruded. They called themselves the Lumdimati, spirits and living cats unable to cope with things whether alive or dead. They broke through her borders, her walls, and stormed into the lands with their own halves of snakes, bugs, and water-dwelling animals.

Pitri lost Regali that day.

His back is carved with the memory. A cat with a dark pelt, curling tabby markings with a long, brown snake at their side that hissed and striked relentlessly. Regali was the first to react when they came at him from behind, his talons outstretched in an attack when that snake reached out and struck his leg. It hanged on, curling around him and causing him to fall to the floor.

Pitri cried out, but was unable to save their friend as the cat pounced upon them, their claws sinking into their back.

Most of his scars are from the battle, some are from when he left from grief. Either way, every scar he has tells a story, and he doesn't mind recounting how he received them. From falling face-first onto a sharp rock to a dog nearly breaking his leg, he recounts every story with clarity.

[Archaeopteryx.]

Username: Archaeopteryx.
Cat Name: Quicksnare
Gender: Female
Rank: N/A
Clan: Enurian
Age: Senior adult
Prompt:

The first—
xxxxAs a youngling, her progression and skill of trapping and hunting progressed far faster than her common sense did. The day she settled on her name was the day she earned the scar around her neck—Quicksnare, for the way her traps were fast enough, strong enough, to trap even herself. It was also the day she had to sit for hours waiting for someone else to wander around and help her out. Mixed emotions all around.

The second—
xxxxShe hadn't even noticed it when it occurred, in all honesty. It had been lost in all the excitement, the chase, running blindly through the dark after a cat she had just met to escape something she had not seen and did not want to. Only after she had awoken, safe and sound, in a quiet little nest did she feel the dried blood encrusting the new notch in her ear.

The third, the fourth—
xxxxHe had asked. She had obliged. They had fought back. That was all there was to it.

The fifth—
xxxxAnd then it was her turn to fight back, to argue against her leader, to try and slap some sense into him. It had earned her a slash over the nose, one he did not allow her to properly care for, blocking access to any herbs or medicine. Something to "set her straight," to, "let her carry the weight of her actions." She had been doing that for a while now, the joy of a story written out on her pelt now tempered by the weight of guilt.

The sixth—
xxxxAn accident. She would have left by now, but there were others there. Others that she hesitated to abandon. He had disciplined them, too, and she did her best to fix up xer wounds. She didn't blame xem for lashing out, a line of claw-marks left on her shoulder.

The seventh—
xxxxA transgression. A change. They had done something—something their leader had not suspected was possible (she saw it, in his eyes, as he was swallowed up—) She had gotten off lucky. It hadn't even looked at her, not like it had looked at her fellow kin. A stray slash from something unknowable, across the small of her back, and she awoke to an abandoned cathedral and her blood turned to molten mercury. She hadn't looked back. Hadn't searched for any other survivors.

The last—
xxxxSomething simple. Quiet. Quicksnare nearly laughed when it occurred—a specific individual in her new herd of livestock was feistier than she realized. A day full of stress led to it lashing out, sinking its teeth deep into her leg. A simple thing to clean up and bandage, a simple lesson learned, a night spent by the fire in her fixed-up cottage (as worn out as she was, though she was trying to make it better) cleaning it and bandaging it up. Perhaps, maybe, a sign of different things to come. Of a life, quiet and hopeful.

[almondkitty]

Username: AlmondKitty
Cat Name: sunwhisker
Gender: female
Rank: gardener
Clan: rosemary meadows
Age: 3 yrs
Prompt:

sunwhisker's favorite activity before coming to rosemary meadows was training new recruits. she loved to see what they knew already and how good or bad they were at fighting. it was a simple task that made her happy. she thrilled to see how different cats fought and she learned something from every cat she trained, no matter how skilled they were. however, one such cat, a young recruit her clan leader had found scrounging around their food supplies, was adamant she knew nothing of fighting. sunwhisker was not convinced. she used underhanded methods to get the young cat to fight her, yet she refused to retaliate. this frustrated her. never had she been unable to goad a cat into fighting her, never had she been faced with such an unbreakable will. so instead she decided to befriend this willful and stubborn she-cat.

the two did not become fast friends. sunwhisker found herself frequently searching for the other cat, being avoided with such ease that caused her even more frustration. she was a very nimble cat and not used to losing sight of others so easily. eventually she caught the recruit and refused to let her out of her site. dawnpaw, she was called, was very sneaky. her dark coat made it easy for her to blend into her surroundings, so sunwhisker made sure to follow her closely wherever she went. eventually the two became reluctant friends, at least on dawnpaw's side. it wasn't until a few moons later that sunwhisker finally saw the young cat fight. a patrol had been sent out, four cats, sunwhisker and dawnpaw amongst them. it wasn't long until they ran into trouble. a large group of rouges swarmed in on them, outnumbering them three to one. they knew dawnpaw and were taunting her. she looked afraid and sunwhisker did not like it at all. her calm exterior had finally been broken and it was not the way sunwhisker had wanted at all.

the fight was brutal. one of the other cats on patrol managed to escape and ran back to camp to get help whilst the remaining three dealt with the threat. sunwhisker easily fought off two cats before helping her other clanmate who was cornered. when it was finally over, sunwhisker was covered in blood and could not find dawnpaw anywhere. more of her clanmates arrived to escort her and the remaining patrol cat back to camp but she refused, opting to stay and look for dawnpaw. the others wouldn't look with her and simply explained that she probably took off with the rouges, but sunwhisker knew better. she looked and looked for what seemed like hours until finally she found dawnpaw, laying at the bottom of a small gorge. she was surrounded by the bodies of four other cats that she had apparently fought off herself. sunwhisker skidded down the side of the gorge to crouch next to dawnpaw, who was wounded but alive. she blinked up at her mentor and friend with bleary eyes, thanking sunwhisker for never giving up on her, even when everyone else in the clan had.

at the end of the day, dawnpaw was brought home on sunwhisker's back. she recovered and decided to become a medicine cat, despite her skill in fighting. she was never suited to it, really. sunwhisker left the clan soon after that, unable to forgive her clanmates for leaving dawnpaw, now dawnheart, to die in the gorge. her scars remind her of that fateful day and of her friend, who she still visits regularly.

[harvestberry]

Username: Archaeopteryx.
Cat Name: Quicksnare
Gender: Female
Rank: N/A
Clan: Enurian
Age: Senior adult
Prompt:

The first—
xxxxAs a youngling, her progression and skill of trapping and hunting progressed far faster than her common sense did. The day she settled on her name was the day she earned the scar around her neck—Quicksnare, for the way her traps were fast enough, strong enough, to trap even herself. It was also the day she had to sit for hours waiting for someone else to wander around and help her out. Mixed emotions all around.

The second—
xxxxShe hadn't even noticed it when it occurred, in all honesty. It had been lost in all the excitement, the chase, running blindly through the dark after a cat she had just met to escape something she had not seen and did not want to. Only after she had awoken, safe and sound, in a quiet little nest did she feel the dried blood encrusting the new notch in her ear.

The third, the fourth—
xxxxHe had asked. She had obliged. They had fought back. That was all there was to it.

The fifth—
xxxxAnd then it was her turn to fight back, to argue against her leader, to try and slap some sense into him. It had earned her a slash over the nose, one he did not allow her to properly care for, blocking access to any herbs or medicine. Something to "set her straight," to, "let her carry the weight of her actions." She had been doing that for a while now, the joy of a story written out on her pelt now tempered by the weight of guilt.

The sixth—
xxxxAn accident. She would have left by now, but there were others there. Others that she hesitated to abandon. He had disciplined them, too, and she did her best to fix up xer wounds. She didn't blame xem for lashing out, a line of claw-marks left on her shoulder.

The seventh—
xxxxA transgression. A change. They had done something—something their leader had not suspected was possible (she saw it, in his eyes, as he was swallowed up—) She had gotten off lucky. It hadn't even looked at her, not like it had looked at her fellow kin. A stray slash from something unknowable, across the small of her back, and she awoke to an abandoned cathedral and her blood turned to molten mercury. She hadn't looked back. Hadn't searched for any other survivors.

The last—
xxxxSomething simple. Quiet. Quicksnare nearly laughed when it occurred—a specific individual in her new herd of livestock was feistier than she realized. A day full of stress led to it lashing out, sinking its teeth deep into her leg. A simple thing to clean up and bandage, a simple lesson learned, a night spent by the fire in her fixed-up cottage (as worn out as she was, though she was trying to make it better) cleaning it and bandaging it up. Perhaps, maybe, a sign of different things to come. Of a life, quiet and hopeful.

Congrats!