Beast | Tavaline Misterija Leader

Name: Beast
Gender: Tom
Age: 19 moons, late greenleaf
Loyalty: Tavaline Misterija
Rank: Chief (leader)


seems so long ago since we were carefree

With medium brown colored fur and dark brown and black stripes, Beast carries the familiar markings of a tabby tom. His fur, long and thick, adds to his bulky appearance as it covers a huge belly, thick muscles, and broad shoulders. His paws are large, his claws long and sharp, his teeth yellowed. His eyes, the windows to his soul (or lack there of, perhaps), are a pale yellow color with a darker amber ring around the pupil, like he captures tiny eclipsed suns in each eye. Beast wears the TM gang leader's necklace: www.trendyblackguy.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/06/arrowhead-necklace-harpdesigns-shelly-harper-2.jpg as well as the second necklace, meant for "the one who holds his twisted heart" img1.etsystatic.com/000/0/6644393/il_570xN.310303077.jpg . This second necklace is much smaller and is easily hidden in his thick fur while the first dangles down from his neck quite loosely. Both were taken from his father, who was given them by his father, who murdered the gang leader before him.


photographs lost in time are all i see

Powerful | Intimidating | Impatient | Intolerant | Unmerciful | Dutiful | Ruthless | Bloodlust | Curious | Lonely | Hopeless Romantic

Beast fulfills the personality of the one who wears Chief's necklace: He is large, not only due to his physical size but his ego. He is proud, ruthless, and powerful. He is obsessed with power and his gang, with their necklaces, battles, killing sprees, and the way others obey him so easily, but on the flip side of the coin his obsession also lies in shiny, pretty, colorful things that make beautiful sounds. She-cats are his weakness and although he would never admit it, he is in love with the idea of love. Although he is merciless, he does despise when he is obligated to kill the innocent or those who challenge him in ignorance, and hates to show weakness because it reminds him so much of his old life and his father, who he killed to get to be the leader he is today (see history). He doesn't tolerate stupidity well, and he is impatient especially when it comes to the stupid while what he fears more than anything is being controlled by his bloodlust and falling to the same insanity as his father did.


a pointless nostalgic - that's me - that's me

Mother:Brownie (ill, lives in twoleg barn)
Father:Dover
Sibling(s):Tuck (brother; takes care of Brownie), Tag (brother; given to twoleg as kittypet), Ivory (sister; takes care of Brownie)
Mentor:Dover (kind of)
Mate:None
Kits:Many fantur, none chosen as heir


thoughts running 'round my head today

Blooper
Just beyond the bustling rush of city life, beyond the endless rows of fences and yards and twolegplaces, past the twolegpaths and their villainous monsters stretches the lush green pastures of horses and cows, a warm twolegplace with an abundance of kittypet food and a rickety old barn with an abundance of mice. In the dark of the night, the barn was alight with a warm fiery glow, the subtle flickers of dark shadows passing back and forth in the yellow windows indicating the sign of life within.

“Broooooownieeeeeee…” A voice called, cutting through the darkness as the clear portal of the twolegplace as it squeaked and was opened, a pale twoleg in colorful pelts stepping out of her den. She rubbed her arms with her paws and looked about the dark territory. “Brownie? Where are ya girl? Brooownieee? It’s time to come in!” She clicked her tongue against her teeth. “Here kitty kitty kitty. Where’s my pretty kitty? Broooownieeeee…!” Grumbling and closing the portal behind her, she padded towards the barn, continuing to call the cat’s name and click her teeth, as if that could entice the queen to come out.

With a grunt, the twoleg pulled open the barn doors and slipped into the dim light. “Stupid Kenny forgot to put out the lamps again.” She muttered, and padded towards the small orbs of sunlight which hung on the wooden beams of the barn. She reached up to pull up the glass when a warning growl caught her ear. Slowly, fear- scent thick in the air, she turned to find a cream colored tom glaring at her. She breathed in his scent quickly. “Brownie?” She squeaked, as if her kittypet could save her.

There was a soft mew in the distance, and the white tom turned his head towards it, growled at it, but seemed to surrender as he padded towards the young twoleg apprentice and rubbed against her legs, a purr rumbling from his belly. “Oh! Gooood kitty.” The twoleg breathed, and reached down to pet him, only to see the tom cower and hurry away, climbing up the loft ladder to the upper part of the barn. The twoleg hesitated a moment then followed, keeping herself away from the cats, clinging to the ladder as her eyes peered just over the floor towards the hay in which her chubby coon named Brownie laid out with four balls of fur against her belly.

Much to the aggravation of the tom, the twoleg squealed and hurried over to them, scooping up the off- white kit and holding it tight to her, the small she- kit squealing and squirming in protest. “Oh look at the darling, she’s white as ivory!” She she- kit exclaimed, and dropped the kit carelessly, scooping up another. “And this one, this one is Tag. And that one Tucker.” She held the other two toms in her hands. “And that one’s Blooper.” She named the fourth, largest male kit and looked to her cat. “Oh Brownie! I must tell mother!” With that the twoleg was gone, and the two cats stood ridged in the light of the lamps, their eyes interlocked in an unspoken argument.

“No. No way Brownie. You are not naming our kits what she-“

“She is my person, Dover, I wouldn’t expect you to understand.” The brown tabby lapped at her she- kit’s little head, leading her back to her belly. “But Ivory, Tuck, Tag-“

“Don’t. Stop right there. I mean, what kind of name is Blooper for Ser- Seri’s sake!?” The tom’s silver eyes flashed with anger and he began to pace, his thick muscles rippling as his paws pounded against the worn wood.

“If you wish to eat my person’s mice, then you will let her name our kits.” The she- cat sniffed to him, resulting in a growling ‘harumph’ from the tom.

“They’re your kits then.” He muttered under his breath, then paused, silent, his ear flicking in the direction of the straw. He crouched down, his pink nose quivering as he scented a mouse and in a bounding leap was behind the straw and upon the small creature, killing it with a quick blow and scooping it up to bring to his mate. He dropped the plump mouse at her nose, but she merely sniffed and dropped her head on her paws. “Not hungry again, eh?” He asked. She didn’t answer, her eyes narrowed as she stared off in the distance. “The monsters aren’t real, Brownie….”

“Who are you to tell me what is real or not!? You who believes in starry cats! The monster is real! He grips my throat whenever I try to drink, holds my tongue when I crave food!” She watched him roll his eyes and her claws shredded at the loose pieces of hay that make up her nest.

“Then let me help you, eat the herbs I got you!” She shook her head.

“My person will care for me.”

“That twoleg that didn’t even know how to handle our kit! You’ve got to be kidding me!”

Silence.
Her head dropped to her paws once more so he turned away from her, headed towards the loft ladder.

“And where do you think you’re going?” She accused snidely. Her mate paused, but only for a moment.

“Out.”


Dover
In a stretch of tabby fur, four kits sat silhouetted in milky sunshine, rows of pale yellow eyes staring unblinkingly out across the green stretches of farmland. “Where is he, Momma?” The cream colored tabby asked, her faint white stripes illuminated in the sunlight. She turned, her slight frame carrying her back to her plump mother to lay stretched out, her belly heaving with painful quivers.

“Don’t waste your time, kittens. Your father will be late if he comes at all. Come back, come away from that window now and fetch your supper.” Brownie said, her amber eyes watching as her daughter returned to her and curled up in the straw beside her own nest, awaiting the mice her brothers typically caught for her.

The toms were hesitant, their eyes still trained on the speck of town at the edge of the farmland where their father typically emerged from on those rare occasions he promised he would visit. “Come on Tag, let’s hunt.” The darker brown tabby said, flicking his brother with his tail. The paler brown tom nodded and followed, leaving the third in the window, waiting.

“Come on Blooper!” Tuck whined, but the plump ball of fluff that was his brother did not move, did not even consider taking his eyes from the lands. His father would come. He always came.

“Blooper, you know we can’t feed Ivory withoutcha. Come on now, show us how it’s done. You can show Dover when he comes. We’ll tell him you caught ‘em. We’ll give ya credit.” Tag pushed, but he had to physically move Blooper, guide him away from the window and towards the back of the barn were the straw was stacked high and the scratching and squeaks of mice could be clearly heard from within.

Tuck crouched down, wiggling his butt in the air and eyeing the hay. “Like this, right?” He questioned his brother. Blooper chuckled and shook his head, slipping into a messy hunter’s crouch himself, his ears tracking a mouse. With his leg muscles taunt, ready to be released, he waited for the mouse to come closer, just behind the curtain of yellowed straw.

“Whatchya doin’?”

“Shhh.” No sooner had the sound escaped Blooper’s lips did he launch himself in the direction of his hidden prey, the plump grey mouse scrambling to get away and managing to slip away from the young cat’s tiny claws. “Mousedung!”

“Watch your mouth young tom.”

“Sorry, Momma.”

“Gee, Blooper, you almost had it. How’d you do that again?” Tuck stood at Blooper’s side and crouched down low, attempting to replicate his brother’s movements. Blooper used his tail to adjust him the best he could, the other tom’s sloppy crouch aimed at Tag.

“When you’re ready.” Blooper said, a wicked grin twisting his features. Tuck nodded then released his legs, pinning Tag down to the ground only to be uprooted and sent tumbling into the hay. Roaring with laughter, Blooper fell back in the straw, rolling about until a sound made each fiber freeze, one fuzzy ear rotating about with distinct feline radar. Deep in the pit of his stomach was a grumbling gurgle, an awakening beast known as hunger. With a great show of will he silenced it and lifted silently to his paws, his jaw opening to drink in the mouse’s sweet scent.

There was a nervous flutter in his heart but he soon quelled it, focusing in on the current challenge at hand. He lowered his body close to the worn floorboards of the barn and crept slowly forward, making sure each pawstep was silent, each movement precise and deliberate. Then, in a blur of brown fur, he sprung himself upon his prey, pinning it between his claws and killing it swiftly.

“Woah, Blooper, you got one!” Blooper’s attention turned to Tag, who began to back away, fear- scent thick in the air. “Blooper… what’s wrong?”

His chest heaving, his heart threatening to escape from his very breast, Blooper’s eyes were wild with bloodlust one moment, then with a blink, he was his normal self again. “Nothing… why?” The tom asked, confused. Tag merely shook his head.

“Nothing. You looked… different. That ‘sall.”

“Different… how?” Blooper questioned.

“Different different.”

“Good different?”

“No.” Tuck stepped forward. “You looked like Dover.”


Swirls of amber and scarlet painted the skies as a yellow orb of light grew heavier and heavier until it buried itself beneath the earth and the sky began to darken. As the first signs of stars began to show themselves, Brownie’s kits were worn out from hunting, their bellies full and hearts warm as they curled up around their mother. Blooper was just barely touching his brother as he settled down, though his mother’s tail draped over his broad shoulders protectively. He glared at it a moment, wanting to shake it off, but he knew there was no use in trying that until she was asleep. So, he rested his chin on his paws as if he were settling down for the night, though his eyes remained open, staring out the window, willing his father’s frame to appear in it.

As the sky grew blacker still and the moon came out from the clouds, Blooper found his eyelids drooping, the soft, deep breathing of his mother and siblings lulling him to sleep with a steady rhythm. No. He blinked his eyes sharply in attempt to stay awake and pushed his head upward, finding it heavier. Looking upward, the tuft of white at the end of his mother’s tail was on top of his head so he shook it off, clawing his way up and away and moving closer to the cool chill of the night that seeped in through the glassless window. He looked down and out over their territory, his tail flicking as he finally caught sight of the small figures moving closer- the one at the head of the group of cats the distinct cream pelt of his father. With a spark of excitement, he hurried behind the hay to where he hid the mouse and managed to drag it with him to the window where he stood waiting, proudly. He looked down at his chest, realizing there was bits of straw in it, and lapped himself clean as quickly as he could, not wishing to seem messy in the eyes of his father.

“Blooper my boy!” A deep cheery voice called, and he looked up from his cleaning to see his father looking up at him, two cats at his side though a few others were coming still. “Come down from there and greet me!” He called. Blooper looked to his mouse, knowing he couldn’t carry it all the way down the ladder. Still, he wasn’t one for disobeying his father so he sighed and left the mouse, descending down from the loft clumsily but managing to get to the bottom of the barn and pad out of the slit in the large wooden doors to greet the large creature that was his father. “There you are, where are your brothers? Are they awake?”

Blooper merely shook his head, his eyes flicking from cat to cat. Dover had never brought these cats here. He never spoke of them, never mentioned them. One was a she- cat. She stood back from the three and was pretty, a slender little thing. Was she his new mate? Was he ever going to return to them and stay? Blooper didn’t dare ask.

“Well, that’s a shame, isn’t it? Ah well, you will do just fine.” His father sniffed. Curiosity was a fire in Blooper’s veins. His muscles twitched with it.

“Do for what, sir?” He asked, and the cats beside his father laughed at him. A glare from Dover silenced them instantly.

“Come closer son, take a look at me, what do you see?” Dover asked. Blooper didn’t understand what this had to do with his question, but he obeyed his father all the same, stepping closer and looking him over. His father was huge- larger than the fat kittypet that was his mother- and yet the size of him was mostly due to the thickness of his muscle and his fur than the size of his belly, though that was huge too. His fur was cream colored and slightly rust colored in places, a faded color that was due to cleanliness not genetics. His eyes were a bright yellow and there was a scar clearly over one of them, the faded pink of it clear on his eyelids. His ear, too, was nicked and Blooper knew as he looked closer that there were scars along the tom’s neck, like cats had tried to slit his throat but he lived through it all the same.

“I see… strength.” Blooper said, and Dover merely nodded, pride in his eyes. Blooper’s heart soared- he was right.

“And what about around my neck?” His father pushed. Blooper took a closer look, only now noticing the collar that hung around his father’s neck. It was beaded and dangled low, with a spike at the end that looked like it was made out of a rock. Dover had been wearing it for as long as Blooper knew, he never brought it to attention before so Blooper had begun to ignore it, figuring Dover had his own people that he needed to return to.

“Your collar?” He asked, now unsure, wondering if it was something more, something he didn’t understand.

“Collar! You think this is a collar! This necklace belongs to the leader of the Ta-“

“Silence, Aros. The boy does not know.” Dover cut off the other cat and gazed down upon Blooper, who shifted his paws, feeling the gaze burning.

“This necklace represents my power. It was very old, given to me by my father before me, your grandfather. It marks me as leader of this group, this little family here.” Dover explained.

“But you have a family!” Blooper blurted, jumping to his paws. “You have us!” His father let out a snarl of a growl and Blooper cowered, realizing his mistake.

“Your mother is sick and weak and each day you are with her she is killing you. She is not a family, she is a disease. You and your siblings will come with us. Have a better life. Learn to hung, fight.”

“I know how to hunt….” Blooper muttered bitterly. “And who will care for Momma?” He asked. Dover sighed.

“Fine. Your sister will stay behind and be these twoleg’s kittypet when your mother passes on.” Dover said. “Fetch your brothers. We’re leaving. I won’t be back to visit anymore so I’m taking you with me.”

“They’re asleep and they won’t want to leave anyway. We’re safe here with Momma, we have mice for hunting.” Blooper rose again, this time edged on by newfound bravery as he defied his father. “If you want us to come with you, we’ll have to think about it. Talk it over. Especially if we’re leaving Ivory and Momma behind. If you want us to come with you, come back later.”

Dover chuckled. “My my, you will be the one, won’t you. Very well, you should be older anyway, easier to train, more durable. Talk it over all you want, but when I come back, you will be coming with us.” He said.

“And what of Momma? What if she says we can’t go?”

“Your mother’s good as dead anyway.”


Beast
The dusty rafters echoed Brownie’s pitiful moaning, the pain that radiated from her bones escaping from her lips and awakening her slumbering kits. Three of them, aroused early by the noise and sprung into action fretting over her and attempting to ease her suffering, were up and about, Ivory dabbing her mother’s brow with wet moss, Tuck hunting. Blooper shifted about in his sleep, attempting to ignore the noise as Dover’s words flipped around in his head and made a peaceful rest nearly impossible. “Get up and help or stop moving around, you’re kicking her!” A voice screeched and a paw jabbed his side roughly. Scowling, Blooper opened his eyes to glare at Ivory. “Don’t look at me like that, go see what Tag’s up to, we sent him hunting hours ago but the only one bringing back mice is Tuck."

Blooper sighed and rose to his paws, looking about the loft only to find Tag had vanished. He crept towards the edge, looking down the ladder to spot his brother sitting in the open doorway of the barn, unmoving. Grumbling to himself, he made his way down the steps and towards Tag, settling himself beside his brother.

“If I have to help, so do you.” Blooper said, but Tag made no kind of retort back. His eyes stared at the twolegplace unblinkingly. “Um, hello? Anybody home?” Blooper waved his tail in front of Tag’s face, and the tom shooed it away.

“Why haven’t they come out to check on her? They usually check on her.” Tag muttered quietly.

“Aw, you know our people, they’re wrapped up in themselves. They’ll come eventually.” Blooper attempted to calm Tag, but the other tom shook his head.

“No. Something’s wrong and they’re not coming. We have to get them to come here. We’ll go over there and get them.”

“No we won’t! You know what Momma said, if we go over there, we may never come back. No, this is our home Tag, come on, let’s go back and hunt for Momma. That will heal her right up. She’s just hungry is all.” They both knew it was a lie, even if Tag didn’t know the extent of it like Blooper is. Dover said Brownie was dying. Blooper didn’t have the heart to tell his siblings.

“You don’t have to go then. I’ll go. I’ll get her, I’ll get Momma’s person.” Tag insisted. Blooper twitched with worry and glanced up to the loft, wondering if he should tell Brownie or not, wondering how to stop his brother from going. Yet by the time he looked back to Tag, the tom was already half way to the twolegplace, bounding towards the portals into it.

“Tag! Come back!” Blooper called, but it was far too late, and Tag was mewing and scratching and the portal opened for him. Fear striking through his core, Blooper bounded after his brother, rounding around the twolegplace and up some flowerboxes to a window he could peer into from between some tulips. The den was covered in colorful pelts and nests and there were flashing colorful lights inside that changed and moved every so often, one square of them, a window of them. Blooper’s eyes flicked about the place, searching for his brother, finding the tom seated on a rug as an odd hairless kit petted him. Must be one of our persons. Blooper watched as two of their toms spoke to each other and touched their paws together. Odd…wait… what are they doing!? “Put him down!” Blooper screeched as a struggling Tag was being thrown into some sort of crate. He could hear softly through the glass his brother’s desperate cries. “NO!”

Blooper leapt from his perch, bounding around the twolegplace towards the rank stench of a twolegpath. He cowered in the underbrush, watching as the unfamiliar persons carried the crate with his brother in it out of the twolegplace and towards a great monster that sat waiting on the path. “Put him down!” Blooper repeated, dashing out of his hiding place and slashing at the she- kit who had been given the crate. Red welled up on her pale skin and she yelped and dropped the crate.

“Blooper! Help!”

“Tag!” He clawed at the hard crate in attempt to open it only to be grabbed by the scruff of the neck and jostled roughly. He squeaked in surprise, thrashing about to free himself. The twoleg holding him threw him into the underbrush where he landing with a sickening snap of his shoulder. The pain shot down to his toes and, teeth gritting, he righted himself and ran back towards the persons, the roar of a monster deafening in the air.

It was too late. Tag was in the monster’s belly.

“You!” One of the people wagged a paw at him. “Get out of here you… YOU….”



“BEAST!”


Family
Many moons past and there was no sign of Tag, no sign of Dover, either. The family had lost another tom due to their people but they held up the façade of being just fine. Ivory cared for Brownie as the plump she- cat grew thinner and thinner, starved by her disease and the monsters that haunted her. Dover had been right; Brownie was slowly killing them all. Tuck did nothing but hunt all day, the mice he caught for their mother piling up, untouched. Blooper, older, hardened, spent his time patrolling the barn, keeping the people away and working on his battle skills in case they return to take another member of his family away.

Although they stayed together, although they claimed to be closer together, it was clear each family member had been long gone.

As time went by the people took the horses from the barn. The great creatures used to share the bottom of it with the kits but now the scary beast which patrolled these parts proved too much of a threat. Blooper even began to consider himself a beast, the line blurring between expectation and reality until he grew to be led by his rage and anger rather than his fear and love for his family. He would claw at the wood of the barn, harsh gashes in it sharpening his long claws as his thick muscles grew greater still, making him huge like his father.

Beast. I was a crude twoleg term, but fitting none the less.

It was late at night by the time Beast had finished his patrols for the day. He was looking forward to a nap at the edge of the loft before his nighttime patrol, his eyes burning with the very thought of sleep. Burning, but still keen to any unfamiliar movement.

In the distance, he spotted them, the group of cats headed towards the barn. They were rogues and gypsies or some mixture of them. He had dealt with trespassers before but never a whole group of them, never at once. His long claws slid into the soft earth at the sight of them and he growled, eyeing the huge brute at the head of the little gang.

That cat would die.

Before a cat could speak a word of defense, Beast was upon their leaser, slashing with sharpened claws and biting and ripping at muscle. He was blind with bloodlust hardened by fear and it was far too late by the time he realized who he was fighting.

The cream colored tom threw his son off of him, and Beast stood, panting, glaring at his father’s roaring laughter. “You… are… ready!” There was a wicked light in his eyes. He wasn’t right. There was something not right. “Go, fetch your brothers, we are to leave at once!”

“Tag was taken.” Beast snapped. “And Tuck is soft and weak. Cares only for the miserable shell of a mother we share. He won’t come.”

More laughter.

“Good, good! It’s clear then, so clear to me now. That leaves you, Blooper, whatdya say, kit?” Dover asked, stepping closer to his son. Beast’s eyes flicked down to his father’s necklace as it swayed with each movement.

“The name’s Beast.”

“That’s what I like to hear!”


Free
“Who’s that?”

“Is that a new member?”

“No way, there are no additions, only replacements.”

“That’s what it looks like to me, look at him, he’s even bigger than the leader!”

“What mouse got their tails?” Beast asked as he padded alongside his father, his paws aching from the hard stone beneath them but he didn’t let the pain show.

“Cats are all talk these days. Ignore them, son.” Dover muttered, and led him through a tight alleyway to a cluttered clearing. It reeked of thunderpath monsters and twoleg litter but Beast was more confused than disgusted. His father’s friends spread out among the many she- cats who lounged about the place and amongst whispers he heard words like ‘battle’ and ‘dangerous’ and ‘leave.’ And they did leave, the she- cats that is, all but the one who seemed to be one of the four cats Dover always hung around.

“Welcome, Beast, to the Tavaline Misterija battlegrounds.” His father’s voice was a wild, ghostly echo amongst the abandoned twolegplaces. His eyes met Dover’s and he found that he didn’t quite care about that odd spark in them. This cat was a stranger to him, but at least he rescued him from the barn. “No questions?” Dover giggled. “Even if you are meant to lead them?”

“Me?” Beast asked, his eyes coolly looking over the small gang of cats. “What am I to them?”

“You are my son.” Beast’s eyes dropped to the necklace around his father’s neck. The symbol of his power…. He thought, wondering if that meant it was to be given to him. “Ah, you remember.” Dover caught him looking at the necklace and Beast’s eyes rose to meet his father’s wildly twisted features. “Do you want this? Do you want to lead?”

Beast’s stomach was queasy. He could feel something drawing him to that necklace, caught himself starting at it again. He wanted to vomit. With heavy paws, he took a step closer to it.

“Ah ah ah….” His father scolded, shaking his head. Then, the huge tom’s head lowered, yellow eyes playful. “If you want it, you must TAKE IT!” He roared with laughter, not fully bracing himself for Beast’s attack, taunting him, not expecting him to do it.

Beast took a step back, appalled. “You’re insane!”

“Maybeeee but that doesn’t get you your necklace, now does it? Pretty pretty trinket, wanna be the leadeeeer?” His father giggled. Desperate, Beast looked to the other four cats for any help but they all sat calm and placid, their eyes burning with anticipation.

They wanted Beast to fight his father.

He let his eyes fall over them as he tuned out his father’s incessant laughing. The cat’s claws were fully extended, some raking the hard stone and dirt anxiously. Not only did they want him to attack, but if he didn’t, it would be his death to pay. Fear struck colder throughout his bones and he realized something that he hadn’t before: fear couldn’t control him. He didn’t have to fight his father because he was afraid of these cats. What were they but his pawns? With their scruffy pelts and kittypet collars they claimed to be symbols of their power. Kittypets. What were they to him? They were soft like Tag was. Like Brownie. They were nothing.

With hard eyes he looked back to his father. He had made his decision. If his choices were to be soft and die or be strong and live, he chose life. He didn’t have to kill his father.

He wanted to.

The necklace called to him.


“You can have any one you’d like, you know. All you’d have to do is take them.” The she- cat said. Her necklace blended into her pale fur, the pinkish stone only highlighted by its silvery accents. Beast glanced about the pretty she- cats, but shook his head. He had another female on his mind. “Ah, who is it then? A mate? Sister? Whoever it is, she must be dying.”

Beast launched himself at her, pinning the scrawny she- cat under his large claws like a mouse caught in his grip. She was easy prey. She was right. All he had to do was take her.

Yet her eyes shone up at him with a stubborn pride none the less.

“What do you know?” He growled, and released her, stalking away. She followed. Stupid little thing.

“My name is Missus Freebird but everyone just calls me Birdy. I’m the most educated one in this gang, so of anyone, I would be the cat to know things.” She sniffed. “And I can help her, if you would only let me.” Beast glared at her. “… Sir.”

“Mother.” Beast muttered, and paused in front of the carcass of the monster which hid their camp entrance. It was still pretty new to him, the location of these things, and he was supposed to have a nest set up by the time he got inside. He wished to see if the cats had heeded his orders.

“Well, if it’s the same mother who was Dover’s lover, then you’ve come to the right cat.” She slipped away into the belly of the monster.

I didn’t come to you! You came to me! Beast held her tongue and watched as she returned with some black seeds.

“Take these to her… for the pain.” Beast nodded and lapped up the seeds, holding them under his tongue.



In the thick black of the night, Beast arrived at the edge of the neighborhood, able to see the long stretch of green land with a tall building at the end, the windows yellow squares with shadows moving about in them. As he approached his old home, he suddenly understood how Dover felt. This place seemed vastly small in comparison to his new kingdom, the old shack of a barn holding soft cats who would never know the utter conflict of death. Although the small black seeds under his tongue felt like daggers that could reach his very heart, he knew he no longer belonged in such a place. He had a different family now, a family of rogues, but a family none the less.

In a way it seemed as if he was always a rogue. What was a rogue, really, but a cat who didn’t fully belong? That was him, not a beast at all, just a misunderstood creature obligated to do monstrous things in order to protect his own heart. Was that so wrong?

Heavily, he reached the entrance of the barn, only to be greeted by his brother. The tom seemed tired, older somehow, though they were of the same age. His light brown pelt hung limp over his muscles, dusty and disheveled and sad, like he had already given up. Yet there was something to his eyes… those pale yellow eyes they shared… that seemed new with life.

“I.. I saw you coming. Thought you were Dover. Funny, yer darker than he were, but the same size, the same walk to ya.” Tuck explained. “Where’ve you been, Blooper?”

“With Dover. Listen Tuck, father’s dead and I’ve got to take his place, see? There were a lot of cats-“

“Relax, Blooper. Say no more. I’m kinda relieved, actually. See, with you gone, Momma seems better. She cried over father but she no longer feels him haunting her.”

His mother. With surprise he remembered the seeds tucked carefully under his tongue. “I have something for her, something to help her sleep. May I give them to her?” He asked, though he did not know why he did so. He had called the barn his home, walked up the ladder to the loft a thousand times over, yet he questioned his brother as if he were the host and felt a guest, a visitor, not a resident.

“Listen Blooper, I don’t think that’s such a good idea, see? Momma’s just getting over you and Dover and I don’t think you can just… walk… in…. “ Blooper managed to hear Tuck sigh but he had already shouldered past him and was half way up the ladder. Sure, he would ask, but he was used to doing what he wanted already. He wasn’t about to take order from the scrawny kit that was his brother.

Still, it was shyly that he approached Brownie, his eyes downcast as he let the seeds roll out from under his tongue. “Hello….” He spoke softly, glancing up to see his sister’s glaring eyes. Brownie’s fur was tear stained but her eyes were happy, surprised.

“Dover? Dover is that you? Come back to me, have you? Knew you couldn’t stay away!” Brownie called. “Dover, come closer, will you?”

“Momma… I’m not.”

“I said come closer to me!”

“What’s with her?” Beast whispered, stepping closer to his mother. Ivory shook her head.

“Her sight’s all but gone now, but other than that she has improved. Been eating. Why are you here?”

Beast ignored her. “Momma.. I want you to eat these poppyseeds, see? They’ll make you feel better.” He said, using a paw to push them closer.

“Oh Dover, always taking care of me. Yes alright, alright. The monsters have gone now. I can eat your herbs.”

“Momma, you eat these careful now. Only two, they’ll help you sleep.”

“Sleep Dover? Oh how can I sleep with you here? Won’t you curl up next to me, my love?”

“Momma….”

“The seeds, right now, the seeds.” She lapped them up then sighed.

“Momma, I’m going away. I have a new home now, a good home. I got a new family to take care of, see? Can’t watch out for you anymore.” Beast explained, wanting to make his mother see, but he could not.

“Oooh, Dover….”

“No, Momma, it’s me. Blooper. Your son.” He came closer, but her eyes were already drooping.

“You’ve come back. It’s alright now, I’ll sleep, I’ll see you when I wake up.”

“No you won’t Momma. I’m leaving!”

“Sleep sure does sound good Love….” Her eyes had closed. Beast dipped his head and backed away from her. She was asleep and when she would awaken, he wouldn’t be there and neither would his father.

“Oh, Blooper…” He whirled around, seeing slits of amber eyeing him lazily. “I love you so much, my son.” She whispered. “My.. Dover? Is that you? Won’t you curl up next to me to rest a while? I just want to rest a while… a little sleep sounds good….”

She had never said that before. Not when he was a kit, not ever. Love. What was that foreign word that rung in his ears. Love? What was that peculiar little thing that nobody spoke of. What was… love? Something to be hidden behind closed doors or something to be expressed openly? He didn’t know. All he knew was the heat which pulled his heart to her, like the heat that had pulled him to the necklace which now hung around his neck. It was unquestionable, so sound and deliberate that he knew there was no other thing. Suddenly he found himself wishing it had turned out different, that he could be good like Tuck and care for Brownie but that was not the path he had to walk.

“I love you too, Momma.” He whispered, and he realized with profound certainty that he meant his words. “Don’t worry. I will protect you. I will always protect you. But.. from afar. Where you can’t see me. You’ll cry, Momma, you’ll hurt. But then you will be stronger because of it.” He murmured. And so will I.

He allowed Tuck to lead him back outside and turned to his brother with solemn eyes. “I won’t be coming back. It will hurt too much… for all of us.”

“I think that is best.” Tuck said, and so Beast was off, a final wave of his tail goodbye to his old family and his old home.

There was a fluttering in his heart and a lightness about his head. Love. What mystery this strange feeling was, which made him feel sad about leaving the barn and Brownie and Ivory and Tuck. He would have to be careful with this love thing. It could make him weak.

He made his way back to his alley where his new name was awaiting him. He could have any she- cat he wanted, any piece of prey, all the battles he could ask for, with no mother to worry about. Sure, there were downs, like how mean he had to be, how he would have to hide this new discovery called love, but if that was what they wanted, he would play the part just fine. He slipped into the carcass of the twoleg’s monster and down into the Tavaline Misterija camp with a lightness about his step.

For the first time in his entire life, Beast had been set free.



reminiscing my cares away

Roleplayer:Jimmy


'til i realize what life's meant to be







i'm the pointless nostalgic - that's me - that's me