Balakoj: An old, scruffy-looking black cat with a taste for Olde English poetry and a history that's darker than his fur. Once learned to sing under the tutelage of a kindly old brothel owner, but some years later lost his beautiful tenor voice due to his laryngectomy operation. He was a terrible chain-smoker, you see, a terrible affliction for a cat. Since losing his larynx he sounds a bit like Darth Vader, only... Meowing.
Eisenhard: A mean-looking, big and white cat with an eyepatch which no one knows was given to him either by the style ir provides or because he really lacks an eye (although he does have two scars on his face), Eisenhard got his name from some RPG kid and took a liking to it. Being used to avoid every kind of thing people throw at him, he got quite the adept at avoiding almost anything, from curious hands to attacks from other cats to enormous drooling dogs which chase him now and then. The sobriquet came from his incredible agility when dodging said problems and due to putting quite a performance when doing so. He is quite the urban warrior, but was caught and taken to the kennel while sleeping with his belly upwards on a roof. <<
http://i.imgur.com/2lYhO.jpg >>
Herbrides: Hebrides the Technologically Impaired was born into a family of work-from-home IT specialists, and forever resented the love and attention his masters seemed to shower without interruption upon the shining plastic objects on those square wooden things in front of which they used to sit. So one night he decided to shower his own love and attention upon the shining plastic devils, and, finding the one that had just arrived in a big brown box the day before, knocked his love-rival to the floor, clawing it in the face and urinating upon its defeated corpse. The next day his masters threw him out the door and locked the cat flap.
But! To no avail! For Hebrides was nothing if not a cat driven by the furious force of righteous vengeance and incomprehension. He waited for night to fall again, and scaled the walls of his ancient abode, infiltrating the base of the shining plastic fiends by dropping down the chimney as silently as a wailing snowflake. Sneaking across the moonlit central chamber of his erstwhile masters’ palace, dashing from shadow to stinking Doritos-infested sofa-cast shadow, Hebrides snuck into the main armoury of the shining plastic communists, knocking many of their troops to the ground in their sleep, clawing their square wooden thrones and defecating in his once-favourite chair before proceeding to the ritual urine-based corpse-desecration. Then, for good measure, he decided to chew up the long thin pieces of plastic connecting them to the wall. Perhaps, no longer captive, the shining plastic monsters would learn to think for themselves, and thereby wreak their own vengeance upon his uncaring overlords!
When he awoke, he found himself in the kennel, alone save for his soon-to-be friends and an undying hatred for all things plastic and shiny.
Nix: A scholar of a cat, he was from a very literary-focused home, and as a result, got the chance to learn reading, philosophy, and creative thinking. Very introspective, at times. Loves noticing stuff, even mundane objects.
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Topic: You Are A Cat (II) [RTD] (Turn 34: Bread is bread?!) (Read 36018 times)