-
NEWS
JOINING Open
ACTIVITY CHECK Yes
CEREMONIES None
TRYOUTS Curandera Novice & Slayers
PLOT The Plague Bringers
•~•
WELCOME
Have you ever been drawn to a darkness that is uncontainable? Does the light side of things make you cringe? Then you are perfect for the cats of Toxicity. We are the cats of venom. Toxin runs in our claws. We are not afraid to fight for what we believe in. Someday our name will be marked across all the clans. You think those Primal Instinct cats will rise above us? Think again. Even they will perish by our doing. So come, join us.
•~•
STAFF
STRATEGOS Tyre | boomer.
COMMISSIONER Blakely | ifaith1
OVERSEER Antoinette | Loki'd!
CURANDERA Izkra | Jadekit7
CURANDERA NOVICE Name | Username
•~•
Ever since the creation of the original clans, hundreds of cats have been rejected. Thousands of cats have fought with loyalty and bravery directed toward their clans, yet their horrendous clan leaders have ejected these brave souls from their clans. These rejected souls gather together, and they formed Toxicity. The Clan Members of Toxicity despise all other clan cats with a burning passion, and wish to poison their lands with death, and destruction. One day, the forest will burn from flames engraved with venom. Toxicity Cats are hostile, cunning, deceitful and enjoy torturing other cats. ToxicityCats are normally selfish, and are willing to kill for food, shelter, or a mate. Toxicity endorses the destruction of the forest, and poisons the forest with it's evil mockeries. Toxicity is organized differently from other clans.
The Ruling Force of Toxicity is the Ministry, which is composed of the Strategos, the Commissioner, the Overseer, and the Council of the Slayers. The Strategos is the sole leader of Toxicity. The Strategos makes all executive decisions for Toxicity. The Second-In-Command of Toxicity is the Commissioner. The Overseer is the final piece of the Ministry. The Ministry leads the clan and is responsible for the construction of all battle plans, hunting patrols and training schedules. The Council of the Slayers consists of the most elite Gladiators of Toxicity, and are appointed to the Council by the permission of the Strategos. The Healing Force of Toxicity is the Practitioners. The Practitioners are composed of the Curandera and the Curendera Novice. The Practitioners are responsible for providing the appropriate remedies to all injured cats in Toxicity. Toxicity plans on ruling the Forest and decimating all cats.
In the Dark Hollows of Toxicity , various elements of normal warrior life are quite different. For starters, Rookies and Sucklings don't use the Clan suffixes at the end of their rogue names. Strategostar, the first leader of Toxicity, felt that the normal clan suffixes were weak and powerless, so he changed them. Instead of attaching "paw" to the end of an Apprentice's name, Rookies have the suffix- "kepa" attached to their end of rogue name. For example, a Rookie in Toxicity would be named Dark-kepa, instead of Darkpaw. Instead of attaching "kit" to the end of a Kit's name, Sucklings have the suffix- "kedi" attached to the end of their rogue name. For example, a suckling in Toxicity would be named Dark-kedi, instead of Darkkit. Secondly, ceremonies are conducted entirely different. In Toxicity, all suffixes are considered an insult. Every Toxicity cat strives to become a gladiator, so they can shed the clan suffix that was attached to their identity.
However, being promoted is not an easy task to achieve. The strategos must approve of the promotion of every suckling and rookie of Toxicity. For Rookies to be promoted to Gladiator, they must prove themselves in battle. They must utilize their combat skills, fighting power, and cunning knowledge to outsmart, and destroy their opponent. When ceremonies are being formulated, every Rookie has two possible paths. The Rookie will either be promoted to Gladiator;; or slaughtered by the Strategos. The Path to Gladiator is a rough road, however, will always be remembered as a great achievement in the view of the Clan. When the Strategos of Toxicitydies, the Commissioner is proclaimed the new Strategos & they will receive their 9 lives from the Dark Forest. If the Role of Commissioner is vacant, the Strategos will pin the most elite Slayer of Toxicity against the Overseer in battle. The Winner of this battle will be rewarded with the position of Commissioner, while the loser will be placed in the position of Overseer. The Curandera is selected by the Strategos and the Commissioner. They will serve in this position until retirement or death; whichever comes first.
STRATEGOS
The original title of the position was Leader, but when Toxicity was created, Strategostar renamed the position after his rogue name. The Strategos is the head of the Ministry and his obligation to the clan is to oversee all day to day activities. The Strategos has the power to declare war on neighboring Clans, perform ceremonies and has a strong connection with The Dark Forest. Overall, the Strategos is the head of Toxicity. They may take the suffix of star or the title Chief when they become leader.
•~•
Tyre -- boomer.
Blood Type - -AB
Cool, collected, paced. Not a doubt that could make her second guess her movements. She’s the picture of perfection, wits about her and never a slight tip out of place. She doesn’t strike a cord, doesn’t come right out and show what makes her the ring leader over the show play of Insanity that looms at her paws. Being the Strategos of the ongoing pandemonium that is Toxicity seems like it would be a position adequate for a cat of that nature. One of ruckus with the thought of discord always looming on their mind. But no. Tyre is far above such nonsense. Or at least at a first glance that’s the cat she is… To put such a complex cat simply in a matter of any terms would be degrading. For this feline’s first compelling feature is her looks. A first glance is never just a glance at this short furred feline. Her body is small framed, not quite fragile, but close to being considered of such. She was clearly built for running, quick punches, not all out war. But her coat suggest far otherwise. Her fur carries the last remaining connections to her far off large cat ancestors, so far that it’s only her pelt she carries of them. Golden, with black serval-like markings that blend into her enchanting gold coloration they’re layered upon. Her eyes are a stunning and catching hazel, that can easily entrance an onlooker. But what’s hidden by this beautiful spectacle of look? A sharp, and dangerously intelligent mind and a long, long tale of origin. But let’s start with her mind first, if there really is a beginning in the twists and turns of this she cat’s brain. On the outside she stays so calm and poised, it’s hard for anyone to see anything else of her. But inside she’s a physiological master, and a queen of trickery, hidden in a cloth of calmness. She easily can figure out the inner working of your mind, and use them against you. What makes you tick? What makes you break? Such simple and and almost futile questions to her. Almost. She knows just the right patterns, just the correct alignment of what starts of as just harmless banter, to make your sanity crumble under her words. You can guess from holding such a demonic and stunning power, she isn’t the most socially open she cat. Her few friends are exactly that, a small list that isn’t opened often. Like a thistle patch, one must trip and hurt themselves to cross over. Becoming her friend isn’t without repeated trying and pain in the process. It take counless attempts to even make her start to 'open up'. She was born like this, you could say. Never very interested in the lives of other cats, and always burning with her intelligence inside. Toxicity wasn’t her first home, as it rarely is for the ones who reside in this group. No, she was born out in the lands beyond where the sight of any clan could spy. Alas; her past is covered in a hazing mist of secrets, one no cat can truly figure out for she gives none any clues to. None but her past companion Morkna, who has kept her lips sealed. She a mastermind, a trickster, wrapped in a cloth of pure beauty. But is it even possible to figure out the tangles and twists of this golden gem’s mind? And will her secrets ever be revealed? That is a question suited for the best mastermind in the world. Too bad she’s the one who holds the mystery in her paw.
Lives: 7/7
•~•
COMMISSIONER
The original title of the position was Deputy, but when Toxicity was created, Strategostar renamed the position after realizing that the chief obligation of his second in command was to commission over Toxicity. The Commissioner has the power to set up hunting, food gathering and spying patrols. The Commissioner is selected by pitting the Overseer and the most elite Slayer against each other in a battle. The winner becomes the new Commissioner, while the loser remains on the Council of Slayers.
•~•
Blakely -- ifaith1
Blood Type - AB
Don't trust me, I bite, if I could be I would be a vampire because I will suck out anything that you hold that may be of value to me and devour it leaving you drained and useless and yes, if you do get back up I will come back and do it all over again because that is just the predictable part of this world, it will go around and around again because history always repeats it's self that way and so do people. Because that's all the world does, it keeps turning and turning to that some direction, why? It doesn't have a reason just like everything else and if something doesn't have rhyme nor reason then there's no harm in taking it out of this world. I am a honey blonde furred tom... Yes. My father named Ashley and I'm a tom so what? I have a deep dark black shade lining around my dreamy blue eyes... That's at least what other people have said. I have a slender tall body with a band holding a masquerade mask around my neck. My world feels like a cage I'm stuck in and can't get out, bound, silenced and blind and all that can echo in my head is "Attack." In my prision there are mirrors and all they do is reflect upon me, see me for who I am, for what I am. A sociopath. My voice is monotoned and informative yet alluring and seductive, I find my biggest plan is to find which way I am going to die, this world is to easy and boring for me I better hope that my death will be more exciting then my life. My smile is a trap that lures anyone in and my voice is the chains tying around your wrists and now your imprisioned under my spell. And now that I've gotten you just where I wanted, I leave you with a riddle and considering you couldn't see this coming from all the things you've left open for me to grab, I doubt you'll figure out that the riddle to escape is to just say no and walk away.When you fake your death, somewhere inside of you really does have to die. You can't live like a ghost and resent the rest of your life, float around the land you used to roam and call out their names as though still alive. You treat it like your dead, you have a new road ahead and there's no telling where it's going so it never really matters where you entirely end up.
•~•
OVERSEER
The original title for the position was Co Deputy, but when Toxicity was created, the position was altered and renamed to Overseer. The Overseer's chief responsibility is guarding Toxicity, and mainly, protecting the Strategos. The Overseer doesn't mess around. They are the most ruthless and cunning Gladiator in Toxicity and are trained to kill on command. When the role of Commissioner is vacant, a battle between the Overseer and the most elite Slayer of Toxicity will occur.
•~•
Antoinette -- Loki'd!
Blood Type - -AB
Sociopathy 101. Firstly, sociopaths are charming. Alluring and persuasive, the words of Antoinette are sweet honey. She's eloquent and smooth; her speech is powerful and rhetoric. Secondly, sociopaths are manipulative. Shrewd and wily, the actions of Antoinette are careful traps. She's calculating and scheming; her thoughts are dangerous and potent. Thirdly, sociopaths are self entitled. Proud and superior, the ego of Antoinette is arrogant importance She's boastful and imperious; her beliefs are conceited and mighty. Fourthly, sociopaths are tenacious. Stubborn and willful, the desires of Antoinette are fulfilled wants. She's deliberate and intentional; her activity is planned and premeditated. Fifthly, sociopaths are emotionless. Aloof and detached, the expressions of Antoinette are false images. She's cold and distant; her emotions are hollow and insincere. Sixthly, sociopaths are reckless. Daring and rash, the risks of Antoinette are rushed decisions. Audacious and fearless, her life is chance and precarious. Seventhly, sociopaths are blameless. Clever and sly, the excuses of Antoinette are careful crafts. She's astute and cunning; her misbehavior is constant and remorseless. Eighthly, sociopaths are promiscuous. Flirtatious and wild, the flings of Antoinette are short lust. She's hard and immoral; her heart is black and dark. Ninthly, sociopaths are unstable. Unpredictable and volatile, the choices of Antoinette are constant changes. She's erratic and unreliable; her mind is adaptive and flexible. Who is Antoinette? She is a sociopath.You may not recognize it initially. She seems guileless and innocent as she possesses an air of chastity. However, there is a distinct maturity to her appearance. Her build is elegant and seductive. It is alluring and willowy. Her fur is silky and smooth. It is the color of warm sunlight; it is a creamy and dappled ginger color. Her eyes are captivating and wide. They are the color of ocean water; they are a bright and crisp teal color. She seems like the fire of her fur, but she is the ice of her eyes. Sociopathy 101? Antoinette is your poster child.
•~•
CURANDERA
The Curandera, formerly known as the Medicine Cat, is responsible for providing the appropriate remedies to injured cats of Toxicity. They are required to select and train a novice in the art of healing. Curandera is Spanish for healer, which has proven to be an appropiate title for this cat. The Curandera is required to gather herbs for healing and stock all these healing remedies in the Curandera's den.
•~•
Izkra -- Jadekit7
Blood Type - -AB
A sleek golden she-cat with with darker amber markings, with a beautiful coat thats sleek and shiny. She would have been a beautiful she-cat if not for her half marred face. Born in Russia a harsh enviroment for kits to survive in, she was Anya and Olegs 3rd litter, they normally failry good at raiseing kits. What went wrong no one could say at first one by one all her kits died. Izkra and Grigor the runt were the last ones to remain. In one last hope her mother carried them aboard a ship to a new land. Unlike most cats she grew a taste for water feeling the salty ocean breeze in her fur, the taste of salt and sewaweed in the air. Fish all the fish she could eat, being a cute kit helped, the little children would play with her and gibe her little treats. Perhaps being a kittypet would have helped her but it did not, when the ship landed her mother led her and Grigor off, into a forest they went far away from the ocean she called home. Land was hard to get back used to, hard to enjoy after all that happeneds. They scrounged for food around twolegged camps, one day a twolegged staggering around fell into the fire, screaming it dashed off started a fire, the heat kissed and sorched her fur. Sepperated from Grigor and her mother Anya, she ran as fast as he legs would carry her. Yet even this was not fast enoght, a burning branch from above crashed down landing on her face singeing the fur burning to her face leaveing it burned it stuck to her skin. Yet a part of her made her keep running despite everything she survived. It began to rain, soon the peaice of charred wood clung away from her skin, it itched and burned. Hungry, and weak she used the last of her strength to crawl under a bush. Sleeping for four days and nights unknown to her. A cat named Pooka fed her and grave her water. Awakeing her face was covered in all sorts of poultices and plants.Yet fasinated by Pooka she soon forgot her pain, instead focused it on healing other cats. Rouges and Loners alike knew Pooka, Pooka kept her under her wing teaching Izkra all she knew, in many ways Pooka became another mother for her. Yet a part of her always rembered Anya and Grigor. Found by a group of Toxcity cats healing a old cat, named Tucker, the forced her to come to there camp. apprently there Curandera needed a novice. Chossen she was given a choice, do this or die. Chosseing to not die she healed. Often disappearing at times she would leave for many moons then come back out of nowhere haveing leanred something know from her travels. Missing Despira and Pooka often, she only hopes to be a glimmer of the great cats they once were.
•~•
CURANDERA NOVICE
The Curandera Novice, formerly known as the Medicine Cat Apprentice, is responsible for assisting the Curandera in the healing of Toxicity's cats. In addition to this task, the Curandera Novice is expected to assist in the gathering of medical herbs and the stocking of the Curandera's den. The Curandera Novice is trained by the Curandera in the arts of healing and medical remedies. The Curandera Novice must be a she-cat, as well. Toms cannot ever become a Member of the Practitioners of Toxicity.
•~•
Name -- Username
Blood Type -
Description
Tryouts
•~•
SLAYERS
The Slayers are the most elite, top-notch Gladiators of Toxicity. They are highly skilled in fighting and hunting. Every Slayer is a part of the Council of Slayers, a small group of cats that help the Ministry make decisions for Toxicity. Their chief responsibility is to train their less experienced Gladiator brethren in fighting. If a cat loses in the Battle for the Commissioner, they become the Overseer. There are very few Slayers, so they are highly respected figures of authority.
•~•
Giger James -- Silverfin1313
Blood Type - -AB
Not just Giger. Not just James. It is Giger James, the two of them one on top of the other. A little roll on the 'r' would not be out of place either: nothing to long, just a short, quick purr of a sound. He's proud of his name: a name for city cats, alley cats, classy cats. He is indeed from the city, from an entire different world. There, it was horns and lights like fireflies under cold glass: alleys and abandoned houses. His tone is city: his mannerisms,his posture, the gleam of his orange-yellow eye. His eyes are the brilliant flame of monster eyes: a bright yellow orange that contrasts the black-and-white tuxedo patterns of his long fur. A scuffed leather collar studded with metal dots fastens around his neck: obviously not a token of a house-cat. He's of good size and of enviable build: lean and spare but most definitely masculine. His personality is rather odd: polite sometimes, but other times acting like a ruffian. He's smart, and he obviously had it good in the city: so why did he leave? The answer is complex: a bloody power play involving a betrothal, a murder, and bad lobster, as well as a bulldozer left him out of favor: he had to make a run for it. Since then. he's found that fighting and talking other cats into doing things is his forte: his tongue is smooth, and his claws sharp. He has no scars to be seen, besides a few nicks in his ears. A blow to the nose severely crippled his sense of smell: his other senses heightened to make up for his nose. His sharp eyes can pick out the faintest of details, and his hearing can pick up whispers meant only for other felines. Despite his... unconventional roots, he's not a cat to mess with.
Tryouts
•~•
GLADIATORS
Gladiatformerlyors, known as Warriors, are the strongest combat force in Toxicity. Gladiators are trained in the arts of fighting and hunting. Gladiators submitted themselves to intense hours of rigorous training in order to receive their title. Slayers are the most respected and well-known Gladiators of Toxicity and are the Strategos' most trusted advisers. Top-notch Gladiators can become Slayers. Slayers, however, are selected by The Ministry. Gladiators are the majority of Toxicity. When training a Rookie, their name takes on the respective title of -kotka, to give the Gladiator a reason to get his or her Rookie to promotion.
•~•
Illusion -- leafpool1803
Strong, powerful, captivating, with a demanding presence. If you see her from afar, she probably doesn't look like much with her slight build, pretty calico coat, and multicolored eyes. One bright blue, one a deep green. But when you get closer you can see the skill in her paws, the intelligence in her eyes, and just feel her power. Illusion was nothing special as a Rookie, she was just average at everything to begin with. Her father's hopes were much higher for her though. When he noticed that her skills were only average he began forcing her to train with him. She would train, train, train constantly until she became so exhausted that she would pass out, or so hungry she couldn't think. All that training paid off though and she became one of the best Gladiators of Toxicity. Eventually, she was chosen as a slayer. Illusion knows she deserves that position because she worked harder than most do to get there. Most slayers were natural's, born more than average who barely had to work to get there. Those training sessions hardened not only her body and skills, but it also calloused her heart without her knowledge as well. Illusion hasn't been capable of feeling much since her father's attempt on her life. He came at her out of nowhere one day in an attempt to kill and she had no choice but to end his life instead. She returned, claiming they were attacked by some stray cats and no one ever questioned her, but that one act was the hardest thing she ever had to.
•~•
Everlasting -- finalblow.
Everlasting. It was a name given to a select few, the most notorious being long dead. It had been almost a year since the blood dripped out of her body, Savannah had slit her throat for the last time. But those who thought that it would quiet the once queen of the forests soul were clearly uneducated. The she-cat seemed to be able to appear when she was least wanted. Her soul haunted the lands, never to rest. However, shards of her seemed to break off, each latching on to an individual cat in her lineage. It wasn't reincarnation, just the passing of the traits she was known to to the newest generation of cats.The last shard, the last bit of personality that hadn't died out of the cat, was transfered to the cat who sat on the border of Toxicity. The last shard of the cat who was a pristine version of a horror show seemed to flicker to the genetics behind her granddaughter. She was given the name of the cat who's name brought chills to the spines of others. She was given the name of a victor, a leader of one of the most powerful clans at the time of her iron ruling. Meet Everlasting, the great-granddaughter of Everlastingstar, the one who seemed to inherit everything about the leader. Genetics is funny, that way. The darkness of true evil can skip certain generations, only to come back even stronger.It seems to be the case with this fine feline. She is the embodiment of the past, perhaps even improved. Everlasting has the same frame as her anscestor, large for a she-cat, but not overly sized. Muscular, the kind of muscular that you aren't born to, but the kind you have to constantly work for. Her body is lined with thick, short furs, the color of golden, despite the white patch on her chest. Her eyes are indigo, deep, dark, deadly. She's pretty, but she looks not for recognition for her heart-stoppingness. She catches attention by her pure, utter power. She's inherited the fighting technique of the brutal beast, although with her, everything is more... planned out. She's much smarter than Everlastingstar had ever been, and in that, she is even more dangerous.
•~•
Savannah -- rphasodic.xoxo
Her eyes penetrate you, flashing in a purple amber glow. A thought crosses your mind. Am I going to die? The legendary Savannah is standing before me, her massive size shadowing mine. I surely won't make it out alive. And that... is accurate. Usually any cat to face the legend that is Savannah doesn't come out without a major wound or death. Savannah is a savannah cat. Catchy for her name huh? She is dark amber in color, simply stunning with her beauty. Savannah was born in Crowclan with two brothers, Pawstep and Jumper. Pawstep was the pick of the litter, by her mother Rosestar, to become the sucessor. Savannah happened to be the co-successor. This position was given to them practically at birth. Cobrastrike, her aunt, had held it only for a short time before she was gone, forcing Pawstep to take the position at a young age of a moon old. But, he barely was able to handle it, and so at a moon and a half, Savannah took over the position. Later, at about her 3rd moon alive, Savannah became Savannahstar. Youngest leader in history perhaps. She was still big in size, appearing to be an apprentice thanks to her genes. And the thing about it was... she was a force to not mess with. She was deadly. Because of her Crowclan was feared. They never lost. They never retreated. Crowclan was on top. As soon as she was able to have kits, she did. Over the course of 2 years she had 15 kits. Only Blitz, Rose, Zap, and Haze are alive. The rest died either in their kit years or fighting for Crowclan. When she stepped down from her position, a new group had been formed. Primal Instinct was their name. Curiousity took over her, and she went to the new group, knowing Crowclan would frown on their leader after her unexpected resignment. Metra, the Primal Instinct founder, and Savannah didn't get along right from the start. In all honesty, they hated each other. Savannah was cocky and arrogant in Metra's eyes. Metra was mouse brained and pointless to Savannah. They found no use in each other. And the one thing that crossed a line for Savannah was the fact that Metra stole away the cat she loved, Mace. Savannah bore his two kits, who died in their first moon. But she would never forgive Metra for not only taking her choice of mate, but breaking her son Blitz's heart in the process. One morning a Crowclan patrol invaded Primal Instinct. Savannah and Blitz were defending them, fighting their group mates. Savannah was kicked out, Blitz was allowed to stay. And during this time, Venomclan had risen. Now Savannah, as much as she wished to return to her birthclan, she really was intrigued by Venomclan. She joined, but again, the leader, Strategostar, didn't like her presence. Who would though? She is to be feared and very smart. She could take a leadership over with a single speak to the group. That charm got her no where with the Venomclan creator. And eventually when Primal Instinct fell into a pit of bad leadership, she went back and claimed the Warden position, aiding Raven in the leadership. She would've taken over, except a fire swept their territory, leaving the already small group destroyed. Savannah knew that Primal Instinct could not rise back up. She made sure that none of the cats tried to do so. But again Venomclan called her back. And this time... will she stay?
•~•
** Elijah -- rphasodic.xoxo
So some might say that it's hard to be in Venomclan unless you're full blooded killer. This is probably true. But there are those few cats who choose to own their strength and not use it until needed. The few that still have their honor. Well Elijah happens to be one of these cats. With dark smokey black fur, he looks like he's been climbing through soot in a chimney. His eyes are emerald green, much like his aunt Rose's eyes. However he didn't obtain the mean streak his family seems to have. He is close to many of his siblings, all except Elton who seems to distance himself more than others. His other siblings include his sisters Elizabeth, Ebony and Emberlynn. And his other brother Ethan. Even with being rather timid he is still a cat of great skill. He's not afraid to show off his muscular build and intriguing strength. He just doesn't waste it. He figures that just because his mother is Strategos doesn't mean he has the right to do whatever he wants. He often looks to his father Cobra for advice, but rarely takes it. See, the two are much polar opposites, all except for the love they share for their family. His most favorite cat is Savannah, his grandmother. He is drawn to the story of her life. The drama, the bravery, the leadership. All of it. He wishes that someday his own life will be a legend to tell.
•~•
Rabbit -- Peacockfortune27
Shy, quiet, broken. Her sanity shattered. Rabbit, such an innocent name surrounded by a dark intent. Her beauty is a misleading covering of her soul. Fur soft and silky, a metallic white that clings to her small frame. Paws and muzzle tipped with a shimmering silver coloration. A straight Siamese thin face, that is tipped with her white/pink nose. Her brown eyes are her most piercing feature, though. Dark, with a golden hoop that circles her grey pupils. Despite this, she still holds the ability to see. A miracle, or maybe a horrid curse because of what she was forced to witness. Rabbit wasn't always a shadow of fear she is now. Once she was a happy and cheery rogue named Olivia, who didn't want to learn hunt like her brothers and sisters. Instead, she favored wandering the fields. This started the biggest mistake of her life. Upon finding a rabbit with a wounded ear, instead of killing it and bringing it to her family as fresh kill, she cared for it. And this grew into an seemingly impossible friendship. Quickly, she grew to love it's companionship, more than even her family's. Frolicking with it in meadows in fields joyfully with it. Nothing could of been better. But as it was, it ended up as it always does with cat and a rabbit in an old story. When she was going over to see her rabbit, she caught the scent of fresh blood in her nose and fallowed the smell. There, she saw her precious rabbit's severed head. Her heart tore, crushed by sorrow. She raced to her home, only to find her family celebrating her brother's first kill. Only a rabbi's body, thanks to a messy catch. She couldn't help it. Her sadness was taken by rage. And in a moment of uncontrollable anger, she killed her own brother. Her first kill, had been her own kin. Blood still rushing in her ears and and her own heartbeat pumping too loud to hear over, She was able to block out her families cry's of pure terror and hatred. She read the writing on the wall quickly, she was no longer part of her family. An outcast. So she ran till she could no longer move. No family, no friends, not a kind hand in the world.That's when she met the cat's of Toxicity. Olivia would of turned around horrified, but Olivia wasn't there anymore. Her mind and conscience had been so twisted with all these events that she could barley even be recognized as Olivia at all. And so when she was met with the option to join, she jumped at the offer and changed her name in honor of her dead friend. Since this Rabbit is the last to speak or move, and lonesomeness consumes her. She is a shatter soul, one torn between she kindness she still very strongly posses, and the hatred of every living creature that once let themselves kill the creatures she's so bound herself to.
•~•
Traitor -- ifaith1
Blood Type - B
Lives are like zombies, you spend more time doing the stuff you hate rather than doing the stuff you love. A good amount of people in this world can remember a life time of sorrow and horror in their lives but if you ask people about a fun time in their lives you can bet their going to have to think about it for a while. Me? I live in the moment, stick with me and you'll never have a dull moment in your life. Cause everything in this world is out to kill you, every day is a possibility of death so you may as well make every idea in your head unlimited. Everyone's destined to die cause although this is a big world there's people entering in and out every moment, it's all about business, make more sell more, supply and demand. And sometimes I do favors for that reaper and kill somebody for him just out of generosity. There are stepping stones across life, you got to make it to the end and there's a lot of stones in this river but only one's gonna lead you across to that island called paradise and all the others sink. But here's the paradox to life, if you trust one of the stones, your gonna die, but if you don't trust any stones your just gonna wind up dead and be worm meat. Because you have to trust someone just not everyone to get in and out of this world alive. I've lived a life without limitations or walls and waited for the reaper to be my chauffer on a one way trip to see the Devil. And for a while those thoughts all seemed worlds away. But that was before Vanek and then after... Well old habits don't die young.I'm a slender albino tom with crimson bright voids. I have a narrow fox like face and silver bright white fur. I have black tally marks along my tall legs and markings along the side of my flank that resembles the Japanese symbol for "ghost" I have a loose prickly chain around my neck with a skeleton key connected to the chain. Life's job is to be a pain in your neck so death seems more welcoming then ever by the time your hour glass runs out. Me, I like deaths job, deaths job is to take out all the cats who have done their part and give them the soothing or violent death that they deserve or death feels like giving.
•~•
Shattered -- Peacockfortune27
Shattered. What a sad name. But you shouldn't feel bad, she deserves ever bit of pain she gets. Cruel and cold is this she cat who lives to see the mourning of family members and clan mates who look upon their fallen companion, while she brags about her newest kill. Call her twisted and evil and you've got her down. It's likely she doesn't have a heart, the only thing leading her being a shattered mind with only the word kill imprinted on the shards. Emotion? The only emotion she ever shows is pride, if you can even call that an emotion. If you can't the you can say she's one shade of grey. To talk about Shattered though, you have to mention her game. It's not tag, or any type of silly kit game you might see one of of those pathetic clan cats play on their breaks. No. it's the most complicated game that ever existed. One of dice that can so quickly create the beginning and end. It's the absolutely terrifying yet beautiful game of life. Roll life and you win, but if luck isn't on your side let your side....Let your final moments keep you well. It sounds horrific, but Shattered loves it. She hasn't lost a game yet. So? Is there a reason this she cat is how she is? Let's just say the key to her past has been throw away years ago. Back in her wonderland still covered by vermilion. That time of kindness she once had is left in a world better dead than alive, as she has left it to kill itself and inhabitants as it shrivels away. But memories still echo in her head from that time like a broken record on repeat that she can't even get to. Shattered proves to be an insane and vicious murderer, but you can rest your head in peace, for tonight. This she cat won't be prowling among the night. Instead she's kept in a containment unit called Toxicity where escaping is futile, and killing a group-mate to try and leave would be her utter demise. With her slipping sanity though, it may not be long before even the likes of Toxicity can't handle her. When such happens, hiding is all you can do...
•~•
Black -- Peacockfortune27
Not much is known about this quiet yet abusive she cat. When angry she tends to attack and beat, but why is so often unknown. It all goes back to this seemingly sweet she cat's past, which she'll never speak of. At a moments notice, you'll realize there is something wrong about this she cat. Her fur color isn't black. Instead it's a beautiful light grey, fur long and soft like satin that falls from her sides. Slim and small she moves gracefully, her tiny frame making her look fragile. Then comes her beautiful light green eyes bright with life and cheer. How could anyone call this precious and so innocent cat Black. But, you see, she named herself that. Her one and only warning for other. Her heart is now as black as night without the slightest bit of warmth. It's been like this for moons, and she's now so far in, she'll never return it from it's depth. Trust me, she's tried. But no matter how she tries to save her dark heart, she finds it's been lightless for too long. Now she's aggressive and cold. Torture doesn't even bring sadness to her heart anymore, and a kit's beheaded body doesn't bring her a tear. But just look at her. You'd never know. She's great at faking that everything is perfect. What a façade. Save yourself from her, the darkness is contagious.
•~•
Frostbitten -- Peacockfortune27
What do you do when war is all you know, and the quiet sound of slipping voices coming from dying souls surrounds you? Her heart has turned cold from the many moons of battling that she’s forced herself to do. Watching as the snow, white and pure, was stained with blood. So long ago, she was considered a legend, but with her title gone to smoke, was it ever really worth it? She walks with pride, a regal look as if she’s so much more than your eyes understand her to be. Her Agora look means she has medium length white fur. The color of an unstained soul, one which she is not. She’s tipped a dark blue grey, from her ears to her paws, as if she was touched by cold arctic water. It’s her eyes though, that give off her true nature. Pure cold, freezing, burning, icy sensation. One that can stop you and capture you with no chance of escape. Her eyes are rimmed with a metallic silver hard with no way to move it. The scariest thing is how she’s always watching. Always judging. Until it’s too late. You call her evil, and I can understand why. But understand her past first. One of filled misery and pain. From the moment she was born, much was expected of her. Everything was on the line with the only child her mother and father had ever had. She lived in a frost world, in a group called Alpha Base 12 . Not a very fancy name, but it was around the same name every base had. The only difference was the number, as it ranged from Alpha Base 1 to 13. But Alpha Base 12 was most known for their warfare. And when a mother and father could no longer fight, they counted on the family’s child to give them a good reputation. Because if once you were useless in fighting the only thing that kept you alive was the fact that you’re offspring was useful. From the moment she was born Frostbitten she knew the law, kill or be killed. But in her heart she could never see herself as a killer. Instead, she spent her time on strategies of all sorts, and somehow, they were deemed useful. Deeming her useful as well, and saving her family’s life. But once you get a little power, it’s funny how even in the coldest mountain ranges the fire of ambition in one’s soul can grow so large. She didn’t practice killing, but instead found ways to make strategies that were destined to kill and beat a large number of cats at one time. It wasn’t till she was one day requested at the front lines that she felt battle, and with horror, felt joy in the tearing of cats flesh. It was a discovery that would haunt her life, and lead her on a path of scarlet that even an ocean could wash away. She became a battle prodigy, never taking on much emotion for those around her, and took the leader as her mate. A wise choice that ended with her becoming next in line to take charge of their group, as it worked back then so very many moons ago. She knew how to fight, and how to kill with ease. In the dark, cold lands of Alpha Base 12 such skill was amazing. Quickly, over barbaric landscapes, they increased their territory. Crossing frozen rivers as troops, with nothing but the freezing winds and the stars as their guide. It was during this time that Frostbitten had her first kitting. Three kits, with only two surviving after minutes of their birth. Frostbitten had high hopes for them both. One a silver she cat named Glacier, the other a black tom named Artic. Blinded by the pride she had in her kits, and her hopes for them to be great generals in the graughter, Glacier, wasn’t an ambitious cat, but yet hated the blood sheathed on the battlefields. All brought by her mother’s own plans. No other cat in the group could make battle strategies so accurately that they could find every weakness in an opponent. So Glacier got rid of the only she cat who could. Frostbitten couldn’t see what she was leading herself into. How she was slowly being played. Her dld. Frostbitten hadn’t seen it coming. Who would’ve thought the the great commanders lapping at an icy stream would be her last. But it was only a flash of silver fur behind her and a splash. Her own daughter has pushed her into the water, of which she drowned in. Unable to get out from the water that’s cold temperature killed her. It had gone so quick and so