LIVING IN A LIE OF TRUST / open, joiner

[impiety]

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Cat looked up, his teeth digging into his lips as he continued shivering. Fuck. It was a person. A human being. Cat took a step backward, muddied feet sinking down into the snow. He moved the knife a little closer to his front as a self assurance he'd remain safe, and he studied Roque for a moment. The other was frustratingly taller than Cat, but he was used to being looked down at both emotionally and physically. Not that he enjoyed being looked down at, but it was just something he got used to. Cat was incredibly sure that he knew what Roque was thinking, though he had always been the worse at reading even the most predictable personalities, albeit Cat didn't really believe there was such a thing if he even understood such a concept.

Cat felt a tad comforted by the fear in Roque's eyes, but the offer for help sent alarm running through his head. People couldn't be trusted, and he knew that especially went for the so-called kind ones, waiting to lure their next victim in as they took advantage of trust. Cat knew Roque's type, he was sure of it. Cat took in the accent for a moment, and knowing only two existent accents, his mind instantly thought for a moment. Maybe he was Spanish or something. "Th' fuck I need help for?" He asked, clearly in need of help with the way his words shook with cold. He took another step back. His eyes were filled with fear, eyes searching for cars not quite aware of the world's situation, but his curled lips revealed anger. "I don't need no help. I'll screw your shit up if you lay a fuckin' finger on me." The threat was meaningless, empty, and his chest was rising up and down with adrenaline, his already shaking hands struggling to keep hold of the knife. Oh shit - fuck - as the knife began to fumble out of his hands and he awkwardly tried to catch them with his hands swinging to grip the knife again, he found himself bending down anyway to grab it but all at the same time warily glaring up.

[align=center][div style="width: 507px; text-align: justify; font-family: helvetica; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 1.4;"][spoiler=A CAT HAS NINE LIVES | TAGS; 4/28/2018]Jonathan Cat Hunter | Introduced + only known as Cat | Cisgender male, he/him
Approximately 26; appears as 18 | Birthday somewhere in December | Ages realtime
TNW: Flintlock Lodge | Loyal to people, not groups | NPC X NPC | No siblings
Demisexual panromantic | Single | Scared of relationships

Caucasian | Reference & Reference
— 4'11 typically between 85 and 100 lbs. Slim and fragile.
— Sickly pale skin, extremely messy light brown hair
— Soft green eyes, has a blue starry backpack
— Wears a single paid of pajamas which are brown plaid. Has blue bunny slippers
— Coated in mud and dirt. Hasn't bathed in ages, smells like literal garbage. Tends to attract gnats and flies
50% HEALTH | Has one large gash down his back that zags a bit down. Has a thin but long scar down the bottom of his left arm. Covered in bruises, has a healing busted lip. Nose is broken. Small scar down side of cheek. He has numerous scars down his back and legs. Constantly sore. Struggles with hypersomnia, depression, IED and PTSD.

Trope & Trope & Trope | personality here

55/100 Physical Difficulty | 80/100 Psychological Difficulty | 40/100 Short-Term Recovery
Cat tends to have a lack of strength due to multiple reasons, but he fights as viciously as he can and knows how to keep himself alive even if he gets battered in the process. He's quick and uses his size to his advantage, but relies heavily on weapons.
— Carries a knife at all times in pockets
Attack in bold RED or similar | @ DARWIN for quick responses | PM for any major plots.
Friendly or nonviolent actions may be powerplayed, but won't be reacted to very well.[/spoiler]

[ROQUE]

felix. he/him. 20.

[table]

[impiety]

[align=center]

Cat blinked at Roque's hands going up, stumbling backwards even further, unaware of what it was supposed to be. However, the words were friendly, the words lacked harm. They were too friendly. Too safe. However, the idea that there was people living here was perhaps a bit less frightening, and simultaneously also terrifying. His brows furrowed a tad, and he straightened back up, the much shorter Cat looking up without fear, yet anxiety rumbling through his stomach, as well as hunger.

The other was tempting him, his words kind and offering things he desperately needed. His mouth felt aware of the drool that wanted to spill past his lips. He was so fucking hungry. The other said he wouldn't touch him. And Cat slowly decided, that if he needed to he'd be able to overpower Roque so long as he had his knife. He pulled his shirt down a bit, shivering as he managed to mumble. "I - I'm hungry - but don't you pull fuckin' shit on me. Last who did that I killed-" His hands balled into a fist, gaze pointed suspiciously.

[align=center][div style="width: 507px; text-align: justify; font-family: helvetica; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 1.4;"][spoiler=A CAT HAS NINE LIVES | TAGS; 4/28/2018]Jonathan Cat Hunter | Introduced + only known as Cat | Cisgender male, he/him
Approximately 26; appears as 18 | Birthday somewhere in December | Ages realtime
TNW: Flintlock Lodge | Loyal to people, not groups | NPC X NPC | No siblings
Demisexual panromantic | Single | Scared of relationships

Caucasian | Reference & Reference
— 4'11 typically between 85 and 100 lbs. Slim and fragile.
— Sickly pale skin, extremely messy light brown hair
— Soft green eyes, has a blue starry backpack
— Wears a single paid of pajamas which are brown plaid. Has blue bunny slippers
— Coated in mud and dirt. Hasn't bathed in ages, smells like literal garbage. Tends to attract gnats and flies
50% HEALTH | Has one large gash down his back that zags a bit down. Has a thin but long scar down the bottom of his left arm. Covered in bruises, has a healing busted lip. Nose is broken. Small scar down side of cheek. He has numerous scars down his back and legs. Constantly sore. Struggles with hypersomnia, depression, IED and PTSD.

Trope & Trope & Trope | personality here

55/100 Physical Difficulty | 80/100 Psychological Difficulty | 40/100 Short-Term Recovery
Cat tends to have a lack of strength due to multiple reasons, but he fights as viciously as he can and knows how to keep himself alive even if he gets battered in the process. He's quick and uses his size to his advantage, but relies heavily on weapons.
— Carries a knife at all times in pockets
Attack in bold RED or similar | @ DARWIN for quick responses | PM for any major plots.
Friendly or nonviolent actions may be powerplayed, but won't be reacted to very well.[/spoiler]

[ROQUE]

felix. he/him. 20.

[table]

[impiety]

[align=center]

Cat hadn't expected that reaction - he honestly hadn't expected any of the reactions this guy was giving him. Cat was used to anger or mockery in the case of threats, not - fear. He couldn't help but feel - um - guilty. Cat swallowed back further hatred - he wanted to think that it was about time that he wasn't the one cowering, but to make somebody afraid, it... Didn't feel good. Cat didn't have it in him to apologize though, especially because he wasn't sure whether or not he could trust Roque.

"Fine, what th' fuck ever." He huffed, the desire to look down in shame pushed aside by the desire to keep wary of Roque. He slowly began to lower his knife from his chest, though not putting it back into a pocket. He huffed softly for a moment, the other slowly beginning to seem like an image he could recognize in the way that Cat could remember making the very same expressions and managing out some of the same words. Guilt weighed down on Cat. But he can't be trusted, he argued with himself, but he already had made his decision. "I'll - come." Cat mustered.

[align=center][div style="width: 507px; text-align: justify; font-family: helvetica; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 1.4;"][spoiler=A CAT HAS NINE LIVES | TAGS; 4/28/2018]Jonathan Cat Hunter | Introduced + only known as Cat | Cisgender male, he/him
Approximately 26; appears as 18 | Birthday somewhere in December | Ages realtime
TNW: Flintlock Lodge | Loyal to people, not groups | NPC X NPC | No siblings
Demisexual panromantic | Single | Scared of relationships

Caucasian | Reference & Reference
— 4'11 typically between 85 and 100 lbs. Slim and fragile.
— Sickly pale skin, extremely messy light brown hair
— Soft green eyes, has a blue starry backpack
— Wears a single paid of pajamas which are brown plaid. Has blue bunny slippers
— Coated in mud and dirt. Hasn't bathed in ages, smells like literal garbage. Tends to attract gnats and flies
50% HEALTH | Has one large gash down his back that zags a bit down. Has a thin but long scar down the bottom of his left arm. Covered in bruises, has a healing busted lip. Nose is broken. Small scar down side of cheek. He has numerous scars down his back and legs. Constantly sore. Struggles with hypersomnia, depression, IED and PTSD.

Trope & Trope & Trope | personality here

55/100 Physical Difficulty | 80/100 Psychological Difficulty | 40/100 Short-Term Recovery
Cat tends to have a lack of strength due to multiple reasons, but he fights as viciously as he can and knows how to keep himself alive even if he gets battered in the process. He's quick and uses his size to his advantage, but relies heavily on weapons.
— Carries a knife at all times in pockets
Attack in bold RED or similar | @ DARWIN for quick responses | PM for any major plots.
Friendly or nonviolent actions may be powerplayed, but won't be reacted to very well.[/spoiler]

[ROQUE]

felix. he/him. 20.

[table]

[impiety]

[align=center]

Jesus, this guy was just really sad. Cat thought for a moment though, about how far he could walk. He, inexperienced, had no idea what his surroundings were like."Mhm." He answered, seemingly so sure of himself as the cold clasped around his feet. However, he blinked at the offer. Food outside of that lodge? That sounded safer. Closed walls were easier to trap people in. "Yea, food outside - that'd be nice." He mumbled, feeling the slightest sense of safety creep in by the other's friendliness. But Cat couldn't be sure about Roque, not quite yet.

[align=center][div style="width: 507px; text-align: justify; font-family: helvetica; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 1.4;"][spoiler=A CAT HAS NINE LIVES | TAGS; 4/28/2018]Jonathan Cat Hunter | Introduced + only known as Cat | Cisgender male, he/him
Approximately 26; appears as 18 | Birthday somewhere in December | Ages realtime
TNW: Flintlock Lodge | Loyal to people, not groups | NPC X NPC | No siblings
Demisexual panromantic | Single | Scared of relationships

Caucasian | Reference & Reference
— 4'11 typically between 85 and 100 lbs. Slim and fragile.
— Sickly pale skin, extremely messy light brown hair
— Soft green eyes, has a blue starry backpack
— Wears a single paid of pajamas which are brown plaid. Has blue bunny slippers
— Coated in mud and dirt. Hasn't bathed in ages, smells like literal garbage. Tends to attract gnats and flies
50% HEALTH | Has one large gash down his back that zags a bit down. Has a thin but long scar down the bottom of his left arm. Covered in bruises, has a healing busted lip. Nose is broken. Small scar down side of cheek. He has numerous scars down his back and legs. Constantly sore. Struggles with hypersomnia, depression, IED and PTSD.

Trope & Trope & Trope | personality here

55/100 Physical Difficulty | 80/100 Psychological Difficulty | 40/100 Short-Term Recovery
Cat tends to have a lack of strength due to multiple reasons, but he fights as viciously as he can and knows how to keep himself alive even if he gets battered in the process. He's quick and uses his size to his advantage, but relies heavily on weapons.
— Carries a knife at all times in pockets
Attack in bold RED or similar | @ DARWIN for quick responses | PM for any major plots.
Friendly or nonviolent actions may be powerplayed, but won't be reacted to very well.[/spoiler]

[ROQUE]

felix. he/him. 20.

[table]

[impiety]

[align=center]

TW FOR BRIEF MENTION OF BLOOD

---

"You ain't gonna be shit if you leave."

As he had left, the words that replayed in his head were replied with fuck you, fuck that, fuck off in his head. Even to the face of who had said it. He had left. Cat found some old pajamas eventually, the touch of fabric to his skin almost a shock at first. But now he'd been traveling for awhile, and he was adjusting despite the discomfort of blood caked on his back, bare feet pulling in and out of the mud. His small size was seemingly inconvenient when it came to clothing, shoes falling right off of him.

His knife which was rusted and colored with red was held in his blistered palms, frail fingers holding steadily to it as his eyes remained tense, flitting to and fro watchfully. He wasn't really shit, not yet. He wasn't decomposing, no animals had taken a crap on his body yet - but he was definitely dirty. Shitty and dirty was a big difference. However, he found himself hesitating as he began moving into something white - something foreign to him. Cat had been traveling for a couple of weeks, maybe months - but it was only today he had ever seen it. He'd seen it a few times through a narrow little window, white powder falling down. But he didn't like the idea of touching it. It was new. It was unknown.

As one toe made contact, it got even more cold. God, didn't people only get this cold when they were in the ground or some shit? Breathing beings were supposed to be all... Warm, from what he remembered. Granted, Cat hadn't a lot of experience with dead bodies, not to the point he knew for sure. His teeth chattered worse than before, his eyes widening as he tried to cope with the cold with a repeat of words. "Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck -" His southern accent repeated the same word over and over, cheeks sucked in breathlessly as his form shook with cold.

The hell was this weird white crap? Some sorta joke from the sky? It was all - all watery. He hated it, he wanted it to fucking die. However, Cat was as of now unaware that it'd require some heat to do that. A sense of alarm filled him the more cold his feet became, and they felt more and more numb with each step. Christ on a bike he was gonna die. After everything he's been through - the scars littering him - the blood still stuck to his back and legs - he was gonna die from weird water white bullcrap. What the hell.

[align=center][div style="width: 507px; text-align: justify; font-family: helvetica; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 1.4;"][spoiler=A CAT HAS NINE LIVES | TAGS; 4/28/2018]Jonathan Cat Hunter | Introduced + only known as Cat | Cisgender male, he/him
Approximately 26; appears as 18 | Birthday somewhere in December | Ages realtime
TNW: Flintlock Lodge | Loyal to people, not groups | NPC X NPC | No siblings
Demisexual panromantic | Single | Scared of relationships

Caucasian | Reference & Reference
— 4'11 typically between 85 and 100 lbs. Slim and fragile.
— Sickly pale skin, extremely messy light brown hair
— Soft green eyes, has a blue starry backpack
— Wears a single paid of pajamas which are brown plaid. Has blue bunny slippers
— Coated in mud and dirt. Hasn't bathed in ages, smells like literal garbage. Tends to attract gnats and flies
50% HEALTH | Has one large gash down his back that zags a bit down. Has a thin but long scar down the bottom of his left arm. Covered in bruises, has a healing busted lip. Nose is broken. Small scar down side of cheek. He has numerous scars down his back and legs. Constantly sore. Struggles with hypersomnia, depression, IED and PTSD.

Trope & Trope & Trope | personality here

55/100 Physical Difficulty | 80/100 Psychological Difficulty | 40/100 Short-Term Recovery
Cat tends to have a lack of strength due to multiple reasons, but he fights as viciously as he can and knows how to keep himself alive even if he gets battered in the process. He's quick and uses his size to his advantage, but relies heavily on weapons.
— Carries a knife at all times in pockets
Attack in bold RED or similar | @ DARWIN for quick responses | PM for any major plots.
Friendly or nonviolent actions may be powerplayed, but won't be reacted to very well.[/spoiler]

[ROQUE]

felix. he/him. 20.

[table]