Post by safa on Sept 3, 2010 18:19:03 GMT -5
Name: Safa
Alias(es) (ie. Human, Tribe, Alter Ego): None
Nickname(s): None
Alliance (Jellicle, Macavity, Stray, House Pet, Other Tribe): Stray
Bio Sex: Female
Gender (Optional): Female
Sexual Orientation (Optional): Straight as a damned arrow can be. Girls are weak and have far too many issues..and glitter.
Age (Human Years): 28
Relations (Parents, Siblings, etc.): None. She wasn't born near the junkyard, or really within 4 hours of the junkyard. Alone. Noooo one. But if a crush could be a relationship it be Munkustrap. Seeing he is the only one who is strong enough to handle her.
Appearance:Safa has no pattern to her coat, very similar to Victoria's however. Her base is a rich butter-cream, flecked with faint stripes of copper and silver. Her belly is a milky white. Her most striking feature no doubt, her eyes are a pale Sea-foam green.Dashing down her left eye is a vertical scar, a swing that got far too close, and in fact damaged her vision within, leaving the eye a frightening milky white. Safa's body is very fit (If anything on the more..er...sturdy side...) , seeing all she did back at her home was work. Her legs are by far her most muscular developed, and she is also broader in the shoulders. Her tail is much shorter then it should be, and the end seems to be thin on fur. Along the whole of her body, pink scar tissue lines and crosses it, making a pattern of its own. Some are deep wounds, still attempting to heal properly after all this time. Others are small and shallow. Each one has its own story, and its a shame she wont ever tell.
As for her clothing, she can be seen in the warmer weather dressed in a suede halter top with fringe, torn and tattered to near non usefulness. And jean short cut offs, daisy dukes.
In the cooler weather, roper jeans and a suede fringe jacket with no top beneath it. She'd much rather be naked, but that seemed to draw too much attention.
Personality:Safa was a protector and always will be. More then willing to throw herself into a fight to save one who cannot themselves, she ware the wounds of her personality well. She is a very capable fighter, almost to par with Munkustrap himself. Where she is physical strong, her emotions are weak and frail. Never knowing of dance, song, or love, she cant find her place in the Jellicle world. She often find herself jealous of the other queens and falls victim to her own emotions. Safa also, being so strong in body is mentally unable to defend herself against magic’s, seeing she never encountered them back home. Safa is very cautious of new people, seeing how they stand and tell themselves through body-language is how she determines if they are friend or foe. She is far from shy, but isn't one to go bounding to people. She does not like physical contact, so the Jellicles ways of nuzzling and caressing turn her away even further from the tribe. She only wants the contact of two things. A mate, or her victim.
Quirks: She craves attention, but when she gets it resents it. Safa is somewhat obsessed with weakness. She hates it, and cant even see her own. When anyone mentions her emotional retardation as a weakness, she gets rather upset and cant deal with it well.
Safa also was best friends with a dog named Carriorn back on the farm.
Faults: Safa is too afraid to let anyone get closer to her emotionally. She would rather die a old haggard queen alone, then have loved many and kept none. Safa also is quick to judge, and would much rather greet someone with violence then a warm shoulder. Seeing she had been in the yard for some time, her violent streak has subsided, but if others approach her they can be sure not to get a conversation.
Life Story (Important for Original Characters): Safa was born within the barn she would spend her life in. Her mother was of the same coat as her own, but died soon after Safa was born. Death was a common thing on the farm, so it never effected Safa in any way. Growing up she played in the hay and tormented the cows and goats, grabbing there tails and swatting them with her developing claws.
Carriron, the large Australian Shepard dog who lived in the barn with Safa, was her best friend. They were always together and worked together as Safa got older. Many raccoons and fisher-cats attempted to get into the farm yard and kill chickens, chicks, and ducks. On many occasions her and Carriron would guard the flocks from the invaders. Safa got rather beaten and bruised during her first few fights, but as time went on, and invaders came in, she honed her skills and was able to keep them away.
Safa always thought she would die on the farm, looking over the sun-kissed wheat and would die happily. But when her human master )A woman by the name of Jayde( got a letter from the bank, things turned around.
Her cows and goats were sold, the one horse on the farm taken away. All of the ducks, geese, chickens were taken, and soon it was just Carriron and Safa. Packed along in the truck with everything else they had, Safa watched her wheat fields leave her behind, as she moved forward to the city.
A small three room apartment was all they could afford, and all of the heavy wooden furniture seemed out of place. Carriron wasn't himself ever since the move, and Safa didn't seem to understand that there was no farm. So once when Jayde was leaving for work, Safa snick out from between her legs and dashed down the hall and left the apartment.
Lost in the world of dirt and metal, Safa ran blindly, looking for her farm but couldn't find it. Rather then leave herself to panic, pity, or fear, the queen simply made best of her circumstance as she could. Hunting down the large rat rats and drinking the drainage water from the tall buildings. One to adapt, she managed well enough on her own. It was when she scented other felines that her life turned from solitary to one of a razors edge. Having seen the horrors of the Junkyards , and the weakness of many within the tribe, part of her feels the desire to protect those who cannot save themselves. Yet..weakness should be punished. Like the devil upon her shoulder, the few times she had run into the Hidden Paw had been rather...interesting. Walking that thin line, the queen is now known as a 'gray' feline...not belonging to any tribe, but not ignoring them either. Never given a solid reason to fight for one side or the other, she is unbreakable, and unplayable, making it difficult for any to harvest her favor.
Other: Safa sacrifices her time watching the yard when no one else wants too, so they can spend time with there family and friends. She has no one, so why bother wasting her time alone in a stuffy den when she could be out in the open, doing what she likes best.
Quotes: " I've fought enough battles to save the ones I love longer then you have lived, so don't talk to me about protecting kitten.." ~From a previous RPG
Song: *I tend to make Soundtracks for all of my characters, these few happens to be Safa's*
3 Doors Down: Duck and Run
www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/3doorsdown/duckandrun.html
)Perfect on how she veiws herself and the world(
We are the Fallen: Paradigm
www.youtube.com/watch?v=aq4nMELf10I
) A good one for her/Munkustrap if that relationship occurs. Also works on her obsession with weakness(
Dreaming: Beautiful
www.soundtracklyrics.net/song-lyric...a/beautiful.htm
)Yes how everyone sees her...beeetch(
Anything Else: Cougar with an attitude. Best way to think of her is in D&D terms...barbarian bezerker. RAWR BETCHES
Writing Sample:
Shaking her head firmly, the butter-coated cat walked the soon familiar streets of the human world, skittering to avoid the trash being thrown from passing cars. Soon the cars gave way to trucks, then the trucks gave way to silence yet again. The cracked pavement with the overgrown dried grasses and weeds, the long roads of abandoned warehouse resting before her like some horror movie set. Already she could feel the eyes of the watchmen upon her, taking in her every move. She wondered if these cats were even old enough to remember her, or if she was just a ghost story to them now.
Her stride never faltered, never slipped, or tripped as she took the small worn pathway to the home of he himself. The enemy of the one she wanted. The one who started the flames. The one who gave her the scars. The one who made her what she was now. And the only one who would understand…who ever seemed to understand her.
No one stopped her, the large guard cat stepping to the side as she made her way into the large open warehouse. Cats lingered in the metal rafters, the puddles of water on the concrete floor reflecting what seemed to be a hundred eyes all upon her. The whisper would spread soon, and he would know quickly enough that she was there.
The ghost had returned.
