Post by petserpit on Jan 4, 2014 17:04:19 GMT -5
Name: Serpit
Gender: Male
Age: Adult
Tribe: HenchCat
Tribe Position:
Family: Zwitter (cousin)
Appearance: Serpit is lank and wiry. His fur is a dusty brown with a streak or two of darker tones that's often unwashed and slick to the touch. His face is protruding and dark, his eyes are creepily pale and large and one of them damaged and squinted. His ears, like his eyes are also unusually large. He attempted to pierce his left ear, now the ring is only held on by a slither of skin as his ear has become infected, wet and exudes a sour scent.
Human Appearance:
Personality: Serpit has a eerily sedate and mannerly air about him, however this does not excuse his unsubtly unpleasant and condescending way of speaking to others. His outward politeness is almost unshakable, even in his darkest moment he will conduct himself in the gentlest way. This is what the few who work close to him find most irritating and unnerving. These are the responses he thrives on.
Since kittenhood, he has had no regard for any other cat's life but his own. This changed after a short while in the henchcat tribe, as he began developing feelings of twisted warmth and admiration towards Macavity and his motives. He is unusually loyal to his leader, and has a raw determination that no other should get in his way. Any cat who dares get in the way of Macavity or his plans, then as far a Serpit is concerned, they are dead. Thus his life became a secondary concern. This is of cause noticeable to other henches, and he is often ridiculed by them as they believe he has some sort of fancy for the hidden paw. Serpit has never really given such things much thought, he is, for the most part, asexual. He has never taken a sexual interest in any queen nor tom. He is disdainful of all the rampant sexual activity going on around him, believing it to be distracting and a waste of time.
Serpit is an expert at extracting information from others, be it by verbal or physical persuasion. A good judge of character, he can quickly find out what makes others tick. This is something he finds entertaining rather than pleasurable. The whole thing is a sport to him.
Faults: Serpit has a tendency to get more than a little snobbish, having originally come from a upper-class background. In spite of his talent for making enemies talk, he is a lousy fighter. Too weak and without tactic, all he is good at is small scale damages, such as claw or tongue removal. He usually leaves the physical work to the stronger, more experienced henches. Serpit has a noticeable odour, like vomit and freshly opened sores. He never grooms himself, claiming that his own taste in bitter and unpleasant.
Describing word: Unsettling
History: Serpit recalls little of his mother or siblings, as his time with them was short. He was born in the shed of a salesman who sold off animals, mostly kittens and puppies to make a quick profit. Serpit was the runt of his litter, but the salesman was not so cruel hearted as to dispose of him. Serpit and his siblings were with their mother only until they were weaned, they were then put in a box on the street and sold. Serpit was, surprisingly, not the last to go. An elderly woman who had sadly lost her husband due to illness had happened to be passing. She had peered into the box of squealing, tumbling kittens, and noticed a smaller, duller one, curled motionless in the corner. She bought him instantly, for company and a small comfort in her last years.
The woman, who he only knew as Mrs Logan, thanks to the gardener, was quite a wealthy woman. An upper middle class woman who owned a large house and a substantial fortune. Serpit, at this time was simply named, Oz. Serpit was a name that he had for himself since his teen years, and a name that he had never had to let slip to anyone. Though he ate Mrs Logan's rich food and paced the length and width of her vast, well kept grounds, he didn't much care for her. Her baby talk and heavy handed petting became tiresome to him. He put up with her only to stay in the comfort of her home. By the time Serpit had reached early adulthood, Mrs Logan was well into her nineties, and very frail. It had not been that hard to make her topple to the kitchen floor, it hadn't taken long for her to drift off. It was the gardener that found Serpit gnawing at the old woman's wrist when he let himself in the next day. The man had always had a superstitious mistrust of Serpit, that Mrs Logan had cheerily laughed off. Now he cursed and hurled his trowel at the cat, which struck him hard just above the eye, permanently damaging it. Serpit screeched and writhed briefly before coming to his senses. He dashed through the gardeners legs, out through the front door and over the fence, still slightly dazed.
For the next month or so, Serpit lived on the street. He fed on scraps and soon began loosing some of the excess fat he had gained during his years with Mrs Logan. He thought of her little throughout that month, finding little affection for her inside. Vicious fights with various ally cats were frequent and always seemed to end with him loosing. He became colder and more thoughtless than he had ever been. He wasn't Oz any more, he was Serpit. He cared for no one.
He had not been unaware of the Jellicles and the Henchcats. Rumors and general gossip had reached him as it floated around London, passing from stray to stray. At that point, only really wanting protection from the violence and harshness of the streets, he set out to find the Henchcats. From what he had heard, they were his type of crowd, in spite of him being quite the antisocial.
He had to talk his way past several henches and thoroughly convince Macavity of his loyalty, and willingness to take a life without regret. Macavity apparently found him amusing. At first, he had no idea what to make of Macavity, and was just glad of the sanctuary. The refinement of his roots and his general high and mighty personality elicited disgust for the violent and smutty behavior around him. Over time, however, as he grew to know more of the Mystery cat, his fascination grew also. His place in the tribe toughened him, and moulded him into the greatly loyal henchcat he is today. His life for Macavity and Macavity forever.
RP Sample: Absently, he pushed his tongue up under his lip, rolling it back and fourth over his stinging gums, enjoying the slick sound, loud in his ears.
He sat with his head pressed against the cool wall, tilted towards Admetus, his uneven eyes making slow sweeps over the oblivious, self-satisfied tom. His lip twitched at the light, ever present smirk on his face. The movement of his tongue ceased, silencing the sweet sound.
He leaned forward, intent on attracting Admetus' attention. His tongue drew back into the dank pit of his mouth like a creature into a hole. Catching the larger tom's gaze, he sniffed the air a moment. He smile was soft.
“My dear Addy, you must be proud.” he muttered, slouching back against the wall. “I can barely breath the stench of that last harlot.”
(You can let me know if you mind me using Admetus in that sample, X2)
Comments: He has a few talents, but no powers.
Human Appearance:
Gender: Male
Age: Adult
Tribe: HenchCat
Tribe Position:
Family: Zwitter (cousin)
Appearance: Serpit is lank and wiry. His fur is a dusty brown with a streak or two of darker tones that's often unwashed and slick to the touch. His face is protruding and dark, his eyes are creepily pale and large and one of them damaged and squinted. His ears, like his eyes are also unusually large. He attempted to pierce his left ear, now the ring is only held on by a slither of skin as his ear has become infected, wet and exudes a sour scent.
Human Appearance:
Personality: Serpit has a eerily sedate and mannerly air about him, however this does not excuse his unsubtly unpleasant and condescending way of speaking to others. His outward politeness is almost unshakable, even in his darkest moment he will conduct himself in the gentlest way. This is what the few who work close to him find most irritating and unnerving. These are the responses he thrives on.
Since kittenhood, he has had no regard for any other cat's life but his own. This changed after a short while in the henchcat tribe, as he began developing feelings of twisted warmth and admiration towards Macavity and his motives. He is unusually loyal to his leader, and has a raw determination that no other should get in his way. Any cat who dares get in the way of Macavity or his plans, then as far a Serpit is concerned, they are dead. Thus his life became a secondary concern. This is of cause noticeable to other henches, and he is often ridiculed by them as they believe he has some sort of fancy for the hidden paw. Serpit has never really given such things much thought, he is, for the most part, asexual. He has never taken a sexual interest in any queen nor tom. He is disdainful of all the rampant sexual activity going on around him, believing it to be distracting and a waste of time.
Serpit is an expert at extracting information from others, be it by verbal or physical persuasion. A good judge of character, he can quickly find out what makes others tick. This is something he finds entertaining rather than pleasurable. The whole thing is a sport to him.
Faults: Serpit has a tendency to get more than a little snobbish, having originally come from a upper-class background. In spite of his talent for making enemies talk, he is a lousy fighter. Too weak and without tactic, all he is good at is small scale damages, such as claw or tongue removal. He usually leaves the physical work to the stronger, more experienced henches. Serpit has a noticeable odour, like vomit and freshly opened sores. He never grooms himself, claiming that his own taste in bitter and unpleasant.
Describing word: Unsettling
History: Serpit recalls little of his mother or siblings, as his time with them was short. He was born in the shed of a salesman who sold off animals, mostly kittens and puppies to make a quick profit. Serpit was the runt of his litter, but the salesman was not so cruel hearted as to dispose of him. Serpit and his siblings were with their mother only until they were weaned, they were then put in a box on the street and sold. Serpit was, surprisingly, not the last to go. An elderly woman who had sadly lost her husband due to illness had happened to be passing. She had peered into the box of squealing, tumbling kittens, and noticed a smaller, duller one, curled motionless in the corner. She bought him instantly, for company and a small comfort in her last years.
The woman, who he only knew as Mrs Logan, thanks to the gardener, was quite a wealthy woman. An upper middle class woman who owned a large house and a substantial fortune. Serpit, at this time was simply named, Oz. Serpit was a name that he had for himself since his teen years, and a name that he had never had to let slip to anyone. Though he ate Mrs Logan's rich food and paced the length and width of her vast, well kept grounds, he didn't much care for her. Her baby talk and heavy handed petting became tiresome to him. He put up with her only to stay in the comfort of her home. By the time Serpit had reached early adulthood, Mrs Logan was well into her nineties, and very frail. It had not been that hard to make her topple to the kitchen floor, it hadn't taken long for her to drift off. It was the gardener that found Serpit gnawing at the old woman's wrist when he let himself in the next day. The man had always had a superstitious mistrust of Serpit, that Mrs Logan had cheerily laughed off. Now he cursed and hurled his trowel at the cat, which struck him hard just above the eye, permanently damaging it. Serpit screeched and writhed briefly before coming to his senses. He dashed through the gardeners legs, out through the front door and over the fence, still slightly dazed.
For the next month or so, Serpit lived on the street. He fed on scraps and soon began loosing some of the excess fat he had gained during his years with Mrs Logan. He thought of her little throughout that month, finding little affection for her inside. Vicious fights with various ally cats were frequent and always seemed to end with him loosing. He became colder and more thoughtless than he had ever been. He wasn't Oz any more, he was Serpit. He cared for no one.
He had not been unaware of the Jellicles and the Henchcats. Rumors and general gossip had reached him as it floated around London, passing from stray to stray. At that point, only really wanting protection from the violence and harshness of the streets, he set out to find the Henchcats. From what he had heard, they were his type of crowd, in spite of him being quite the antisocial.
He had to talk his way past several henches and thoroughly convince Macavity of his loyalty, and willingness to take a life without regret. Macavity apparently found him amusing. At first, he had no idea what to make of Macavity, and was just glad of the sanctuary. The refinement of his roots and his general high and mighty personality elicited disgust for the violent and smutty behavior around him. Over time, however, as he grew to know more of the Mystery cat, his fascination grew also. His place in the tribe toughened him, and moulded him into the greatly loyal henchcat he is today. His life for Macavity and Macavity forever.
RP Sample: Absently, he pushed his tongue up under his lip, rolling it back and fourth over his stinging gums, enjoying the slick sound, loud in his ears.
He sat with his head pressed against the cool wall, tilted towards Admetus, his uneven eyes making slow sweeps over the oblivious, self-satisfied tom. His lip twitched at the light, ever present smirk on his face. The movement of his tongue ceased, silencing the sweet sound.
He leaned forward, intent on attracting Admetus' attention. His tongue drew back into the dank pit of his mouth like a creature into a hole. Catching the larger tom's gaze, he sniffed the air a moment. He smile was soft.
“My dear Addy, you must be proud.” he muttered, slouching back against the wall. “I can barely breath the stench of that last harlot.”
(You can let me know if you mind me using Admetus in that sample, X2)
Comments: He has a few talents, but no powers.
Human Appearance:
