[align=center] Cat had noticed something about the wooden building to the side. Animals came in and out of it, but nobody bothered it at night. Cat, deciding that he wanted to be as far from a living being as possible, hadn't quite gotten a room for himself since such a thing required... Roommates. Cat wasn't particularly sharing, or a "mate" sort of person if that made sense.
He had been sleeping so peacefully in the barn, late at night and probably far past when other people's bedtime should be, when something bit into his toes and pulled off his slipper. His form immediately raced with adrenaline, though he didn't scream simply because he was taught to stay quiet and bear pain or shock. As he looked up, there was some furry creature, like a horse but way smaller, and horned. "What th' fuck-" He huffed, leaning to grab the slipper from it's mouth. Yet, the other one grabbed onto his sleeve, and he immediately released the slipper as he began jerking his arm away, though the goat, chewing contently, looked at him calmly.
"Let go!" He shouted, a single foot stomping as he felt the goat tugging at the sleeve even more. As he tried to jerk it, he stepped into their territory trying to whack the goat with his other hand, a foot trying to kick but only losing his balance in result and clumsily falling over straight into the mud. "Fuck off!" He shouted, voice loud and clear with alarm as Cat continued trying to rip free of the goat, seemingly much weaker than the animal.
[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]
[align=center][div style="width: 400pt; text-align: justify; font-size:9pt; line-height:1.7"]Joseph's been raising goats since he was in diapers. His mother would hold him while feeding them, and when he could walk he started pitching in. There were only five and the number fluctuated as the years went on, but as of half a year ago there were six. Free to roam and browse now that they don't have any caretakers. He would have stayed to take care of them if the house didn't have bloodstains on the walls and floors, but it does, and the people who caused them are dead too at Joseph's hands. He's here because there's nowhere else for him to go, but he's not really around, something like a ghost instead of a person. He makes himself scarce when he can, and that's easy because he has always been able to disappear when he wants; it's a talent picked up when making more enemies than friends. He stays outside for most of the day and drifts inside at night, picking a rarely used corner to bed down. There's even been a night spent in with the rabbits. Tonight (or this morning?) the walls are pressing in suffocatingly, so he goes outside and heads for the small barn where maybe familiar smells will keep him from waking up every few minutes. Except it's already occupied by another person who's trying and failing to fend off the curious goats, and he rolls his eyes before dropping his things by the door. He has graham crackers with him, stale but treats for goats.
Once they figure out the clothes aren't edible they'll want something that is.
"Fucking dumbass." Joseph strokes a hand down one of the goat's backs and offers the cracker. The sleeve is dropped to trade for something tasty and digestible, and the other goat nibbling curiously on the slipper drops it to come over for a treat too. "There you go. Something tasty. You don't want clothes." He takes a glance at the idiot. "Definitely not his clothes."
[align=center][div style="font-family:arial; font-size:10pt;"]call me a safe bet, I'M BETTING I'M NOT
felix. he/him. 20.
★★★ // 5'6''. 130lbs. 6/10 HEALTH.[/color]
description of appearance here.
 reference links here. include voice-claim.
★★★ // INFJ. HUFFLEPUFF. INTROVERTED.
description of personality here.
tropes;;[/color] list tropes here.
★★★ // HAS SMALL SHOULDER BAG, ONE SET OF CLOTHES
 always wears a rosary under his shirt, rarely visible.
 bag holds first aid supplies and photographs--rations if he's found any lately.
★★★ // HAS NO WEAPONS. CAN POWERPLAY PEACEFUL. 0/10 TRAINED.
 will run if attacked or provoked, if caught will beg before fighting.
 has no training in any kind of combat.
 @ROQUE when attacking.
 open to capture and maim, but ask me first.b]★★★ // INFJ. HUFFLEPUFF. INTROVERTED.[/b]
description of personality here.
tropes;;[/color] list tropes here.
★★★ // HAS SMALL SHOULDER BAG, ONE SET OF CLOTHES
 always wears a rosary under his shirt, rarely visible.
 bag holds first aid supplies and photographs--rations if he's found any lately.
★★★ // HAS NO WEAPONS. CAN POWERPLAY PEACEFUL. 0/10 TRAINED.
 will run if attacked or provoked, if caught wib]★★★ // INFJ. HUFFLEPUFF. INTROVERTED.[/b]
description of personality here.
tropes;;[/color] list tropes here.
★★★ // HAS SMALL SHOULDER BAG, ONE SET OF CLOTHES
 always wears a rosary under his shirt, rarely visible.
 bag holds first aid supplies and photographs--rations if he's found any lately.
★★★ // HAS NO WEAPONS. CAN POWERPLAY PEACEFUL. 0/10 TRAINED.
 will run if attacked or provoked, if caught wi
[table] |
Roque ✟ | |
Flintlock ♋️
Thirty Three ▲ | [/table]
Roque was really worrying about Cat. He didn't even really know if the kid was going to stick around--if not, he worried he'd die, but...unfortunately, there wasn't much he could do.
However, that night, Roque had been having some trouble sleeping. It was late, dark--and cold. He couldn't sleep, and he'd been in the dining area, shivering and trying to keep close to the candle. At least--he had been, until he'd heard an odd shout--muffled, raspy, from outside....
Familiar. He got up quickly, brow furrowed--wrapping the blanket around his shoulders, slipping into his boots. Luckily, it was a clear night--cold, but he could see by the moon easily enough as he hurried to the barn, fear causing a shiver more than the freezing temperatures. "Hello?" He called out--seeing the barn door open and close, and Roque rushed in--eyes widening as he spied the pair. A man he didn't know, surrounded by goats--oh, they smelled--and...Cat. "Cat!" He cast a glance at the other man, frowning at his words before he made his way over to Cat, worrying all the way. "Are you all right? I heard you shout--did they hurt you?" He paused, turning back to the goat-man, not sure if he should make nice or... "I'm Roque--are they your goats?"
[url=http://"http://shine.jcink.net/index.php?showuser=16439"]▼ ShimmeringWitchy[/url]
[align=center][div style="Width: 495px; text-align: justify; font-size: 11px;"][spoiler= information // 4/28] ★★★ // ROQUEFORT M. POUSSEY. BORN 6/26/2024.
 genderqueer. flintlock lodge. no rank. oocly created 9/1/15.
 main account || full bio
★★★ // Jack Poussey X Colby Brodeur .
 ½ of nothing. no crush. queer. not actively looking.
 desperately wants a cat, but has no pets.
★★★ // 5'6''. 130lbs. 6/10 HEALTH.
description of appearance here.
 reference links here. include voice-claim.
current injures;; none.
permanent injures;; bite scar on left shoulder. rasp in his voice and occasional pain swallowing.
★★★ // INFJ. HUFFLEPUFF. INTROVERTED.
description of personality here.
tropes;; list tropes here.
★★★ // HAS SMALL SHOULDER BAG, ONE SET OF CLOTHES
 always wears a rosary under his shirt, rarely visible.
 bag holds first aid supplies and photographs--rations if he's found any lately.
★★★ // HAS NO WEAPONS. CAN POWERPLAY PEACEFUL. 0/10 TRAINED.
 will run if attacked or provoked, if caught will beg before fighting.
 has no training in any kind of combat.
 @ ROQUE when attacking.
 open to capture and maim, but ask me first.
stats;; strength: 2/10. agility: 3/10. endurance: 3/10. accuracy: 2/10. luck: 3/10.[/spoiler]
[align=center] It moved by quickly, and the second his sleeve was released he jerked up. His eyes were unfocused, only his instincts drilled in his head that he needed to move away, keep away from danger. Cat swipes his clothes up, his gaze indignant as he scrambles away from the goats. The second he was considered safe, his mind forgot anything of what happened when he heard Joseph's words. The desire to defend filled him. Whether or not Joseph had meant it for him, Cat heard somebody called a dumbass, and he was definitely not going to sit and possibly be who Joseph meant it for. The teeny horses with horns attacked him, he didn't yell or swear at them before, he had just minded his own business! He was very smart, Cat tried to assure himself that. Cat was the only one allowed to call Cat a dumbass, not this guy, or anyone else.
"Are you fuckin' talkin' about me? You're not callin' me the dumbass, right?" He demanded, though part of him sounded like he was searching for reassurance, his small form jumping on one foot while the other stuck out pushing into the slipper, hobbling to the entrance. "My clothes are fuckin' good." He added defensively, his voice self-assured despite his mind racing in turmoil as it thought of all the ways he might be wrong. He hadn't even thought to say thank you, his mind only involved with his own self-interest.
Roque's arrival furthered his embarrasment as his foot set back down. It was worse with someone fussing over him. His typically sickly white face grew pink though hard to see in the darkness, and he shrugged dusting off his sleeve. "Yeah, I'm - it's fuckin' whatever, what happened doesn't matter. Just some shitty animals, and, um - he ... helped me." At the last realization, surprise entered his voice, gaze lingering on Joseph before anxiously jerking away. He listened a bit, and his mind, well, when he heard goat it went blank. "Th' fuckin' hell is a goat?" He hesitantly asked. Fuck. He was being so proud, he - he's lost sight of his safety concerning over whether he was dumb or not. The more he stayed here, the more anxious he felt. He was crammed in a room full of animals and two people who probably really hated him now. This was just great. He backed a bit closer to the door, desiring to run away or to hide somewhere, looking down as he shuffled his hands into pajama pockets. "Shit - well - sorry, uh - to wake everyone up. But I'm gonna... Go fuckin' find a place to sleep. Away from shit." What had just been an overwhelming challenge to fight had already calmed into him awkwardly trying to leave, realizing that if Roque and Joseph wanted to, they could very easily kill him. Hurt him. In whatever sick ways they wanted. He can't trust them, even with Joseph getting the goats away and Roque being way too nice. And them not knowing each other. But Cat couldn't be sure at this point.
[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 14-18 | 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]
|
