Post by Jet on Jul 27, 2012 14:06:47 GMT -5
Jetstream
Tom | Rogue | 26 Moons | N/A
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Appearance
Forged by midnight this creature lurks, it's paws molded by clouds, it's eyes conjured from the torturous flames of hell. What is this creature, that heralds dread as it walks by, prodigious and satanic? It's pronounced, sharp sature seems to give it the appearance of a canine, the beast certainly has the size, but for some reason, the demon was born amongst cats.
So could it be that this supposed feline be the son of Satan, sent to Earth to release chaos and destruction upon the minors? If so, he certainly has the means to do that, not that he hasn't already. Jet black, razor sharp claws hammered upon Death's anvil gleam dully as they slip from their protective sheathes, ivory gleaming teeth sharpened upon the moon's grindstone ready to carve through flesh.
The creature is by no means pretty, with the ragged, horrific scars that lace around his jet black and murky white pelt. One shredded ear, another torn. And of course, that famous matching black collar that is constantly pampered by the imperious nightmare, decorated with the bones of long dead foes. How could this monster possibly be considered a feline?
Personality
Why would anyone want to delve into Jetstream's terrifying personality? His mind isn't a good place to be, and only those not wishing to preserve their sanity would dare to explore.
This crazed monster is uncapable of most emotions, other than hate and anger. He wouldn't know how to react toward love as he certainly didn't have a friendly nature. In addition to not being capable of feeling monst emotions, Jetstream is also impervious to pain, which could be considered a weakness. How could one know their limits if they can't feel the pain? His twisted mind simply can't comprehend it.
Poor Jetstream only does what he can. He doesn't do it because he's told too, and he doesn't do it because he wants to. He simply does it because he can. And if he can't, he won't do it. Murder? Jetstream shows no pity, no guilt. To him, it isn't a crime, it's simply a way of life, and his way of life involves bloody claws and torn flesh.
He doesn't respect many others, in fact, he never has felt full respect, only mutual respect. He keeps no friends or mate, as each one that dares try to get close to him is swiftly ravaged by his savagery, unable to keep himself away from the fresh release of crimson plasma. Some might even call him satanic, a monstrocity to all cat kind, a nightmare come to life, and undead being risen from hell. So how then does this almost mechanical acting creature function?
History
Born in the outlands, Jetstream was the biggest of his litter. Atleast, thats how he remebers it. His father was immediatly eager to began his training, but his mother refused until he was old enough. It took a few moons, three in fact, Jetstream was already strong, his eyes glimmering like vibrant embers, eager and proud. It was exactly what his father had been waiting for and, after some fuss with Jetstream's mother, he was finally aloud to begin training.
The first few moons had gone bad. Jetstream couldn't appear to get the attacks right. His hunting was rather bad as well. His father grew enraged by his mistake and savagly beat Jetstream, who's mothe rwas furious. It came to a fight as his father recommended ditching Jetstream and simply leaving him for dead. Thats when things really went horribly wrong.
Somehow, the fight got to heated. It became physical and, right in front of Jetstream's terrified eye, his father slew the mother he had loved so much, then took Jetstream's two smaller brothers and fled. Refusing to acknowledge Jetstream as his son any longer.
The kit was left alone and hungry, barely able to hunt for himself, and completly unable to defend himself. A few rogues decided he was easy prey one day, Jetstream had been lucky to get away, though not without terrible scars as proof of his failure.
Over time, forced to learn due to starvation, he steadily began to get hunting down. Jetstream was rather large now. In addition to learning how to hunt, Jetstream also began to develop a vicious hate for the world, and was determined to avenge his mother, to have his revenge on his cruel father.
For moons he drilled himself into constant training, eventually gaining the abaility to defend himself. Fueled by his hate, he managed to kill another fierce rogue that thought Jetstream would be easy pickings. It was his eighth moon. It wasn't long after this kill, a few nights in fact, that Jetstream began seeing his new etheral companion.
Jet black and terrifying the spirit chose to visit him, from the depths of hell the undead creature loomed. He called himself Necromancersoul, a name Jetstream never understood, though the spirit tom seemed quite proud of his strange name.
For almost a year, Necromancersoul trained and beat his legendary skills into Jetstream, who eagerly accepted the training, still upholding his vow to kill his father. In this year, he killed many other rogues until, eventually, he became prestigous among the rogues, as well as feared.
He set out after his father, tracking him down for a full five months before, finally, he found the tom. His brothers were no where to be found, and to this day, Jetstream is yet to find them. But what mattered was that he had found his father, the cat that had drowned him in misery for half his life.
Jetstream didn't bother to draw out the death. He simply wanted it done. Without mercy, without pity, Jetstream slaughtered his pitiful father with barely a scratch to show for it. After this, he knew of nothing else to do, but if he didn't find something, he might very well go insane. There was also the fact that Jetstream wanted his name feared by more then simply rogues. And there were more then a few ways to achieve that.