Post by ACE! the cannibal on Dec 2, 2011 21:34:23 GMT -5
charlie
A long long time ago
I can still remember how
That music used to make me smile
And I knew if I had my chance
That I could make those people dance
And maybe they'd be happy for a while
A long long time ago
I can still remember how
That music used to make me smile
And I knew if I had my chance
That I could make those people dance
And maybe they'd be happy for a while
name...Charlie
age...156 moons
gender...male
clan...outsider
position...loner
species...pallas cat
apperance...He is, to be blunt, a walking trainwreck. His pelt is long and shaggy, his legs strangled and short and his tail is about the same size as him. His spine is bare skin, burned it seemed, by some sort of fire. Therefore, his fur is short down the spine, but reaching down along his ribs the fur grows longer, shaggier. Charlie has a rough time keeping up, making himself suitable. Once upon a time, he actually cared about his looks but at his age, he stopped caring. Therefore, not only is it grey, it's covered in grass and dirt.
Scarred and old, although his eyes are sharp, the left is sore and often unfocused, blind, near deaf and missing a leg, Charlie holds his head held high despite his crippled appearence. Small and meager, the old tom-cat is completely tiny, lost in a world five times his side. His ribs jut out, malnutrition eating at his muscules, rain truly showing his weaker side.
Of course, at his age, he has far beyond the point of caring. Bold and brash, his hair, his stare all represent an unbowing old geezer. Unknown to the land and it's rather large inhabitants set him different from the rest. A strange species, with a rather strange accent does his best to get by.
personality...Charlie is very knowledgable and wisee. He knows subjects of every criteria, from lore and truth, poison and healing, battle strategies and anything else that could be useful for any cat. He is a wanted assest in any war, for all the blood and bath he has seen.
However, Charlie, like any man of his age, he complains with ferocity and although his claws are dulled, his tongue is just a vicious and poisonous, and could degrade anyone with bitterness. Anyone who seeks his knowledge had best be prepared for sarcasm and fierce eyes. Charlie does not care for anyone except himself, a proud, arrogant man that would rather starve than eat anyone's petty handouts. Harsh as the winter wind, Charlie snaps at anyone he pleases, even when they are twice his size.
Charlie likes the late summer, early fall seasons, enjoying simple pleasures like cold river water, a warm den and quiet noise. He enjoys company that knows their place and eager to learn. Charlie hates hot or damp weather as they make his limbs ache. He will personally eat anyone who treats him disrespect and anyone who offers him a lending hand out of concern or pity.
Most of the times, in his lonesome, he is thoughtful, ponderous and with those he trusts, those few friends he would die for, Charlie lets the fatigue leak into his voice, showing that well-weathered cat is hurt inside, having everything ripped away from him.That isn't to say he isn't loyal. He is quite the die-hard loyalist, to the point where he would chew off his own tail than betray and tarnish his reputation. It just means you have to fight for his loyalty and the rather bitter if not probably humourous relationship.
history...Still young, he had an average childhood, he had younger brother whom he loved dearly and a rival sibling who saw competetion in everything they did. Roman was a smaller cat, a healer by trade but far too frightened to go out into the world to become anything great. Charlie had it all, he had the respect of the leader, a worshippng younger brother and the loyalty of the few cats who came in need of his assistance. He was respected and feared in the distant lands and was accountable for chasing away and often beating any trespassers in their domain. And then, the storm. The re-accuring nightmare that kills him in his sleep every-night. He was out, looking for hs brothers, the only people left from his parent's death. The winds were too strong, catching his small body from a tree and he went flying. His spine snapped underneath the power of the winds and his scream stil echoes in his head as he fell floor after floor until his left side hit the ground.
He was found and taken in, crippled. Month after month, he healed as the cats turned from concern, to sympathy, to pity, to forgetting who he was and the once ranking he held. His heart sore, it didn't help that they Roman dead crushed underneath a tree and Vercity cutting all ties from the pack, shallow and blind, as a loner dead.
A year later, he ran into Rose, a lovely lady who took after her name, sweet like its blossom. It took time, for he was a bitter cat, but they both lusted for knowledge and together, they learned of many things, including their care for one another. He was the tender age of four, she only moons younger and he was, as you say, happy. They were mates for seven moons before she was stripped away from him as a loner, mad and confused on the brink of death decided to take his Rose with him.
I couldn't take one more step
I can't remember if I cried
When I read about his widowed bride
But something touched me deep inside
The day the music died
[/size][/color][/font]I can't remember if I cried
When I read about his widowed bride
But something touched me deep inside
The day the music died
