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A short-haired ginger tom with a white belly and paws. Has one eye and torn ears.
somewhat of a scary sight, Elohim has clearly been through the ringer a few times. Knowing their past, it's rather obvious that it failed to escape from the dogs a few times --- they should be elated that they escaped with their life. it is a short furred ginger tom with a brown tail and back marking, with a white muzzle, chest, and paws. it's right eye is completely gone scarred over with a miriade of scars and scrapes. missing fur that never grew back coats this side of it's face and ear, which is almost entirely missing on this side. it's other ear was luckier, though barely, it still lingers --- torn up and sliced from the various attacks on it's body. it's body, legs, and tail are also littered with smaller scars.
they are rather thin, ribs protruding out of the side of his body. it is clear it doesn't eat as much as it should --- but it's certainly not the best hunter, nor is it experienced with taking care of itself. it's been surviving on carrion scraps and whatever the twolegs that take pity on it throw at it.
↳ masking? / other genes
demeanor: passive, soft yet firm voice. "sizes you up" before approaching, only talks to those it deems worthy.
mannerisms: calulated, tends to size you up and analyze you before even speaking to you.
✦ accessories: n/a
AESTHETICS: n/a PINTEREST. (n/a yet)
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ENNEAGRAM 5w4 (THE ICONOCLAST) / SANGUINE
ENTJ / XV: The Devil / Diligence / Wrath (Greed)
( + ) excitable, motivated, driven, brilliant, pragmatic
( / ) analytical, unrestrained (they should be), passionate, messy, tactless
( - ) deranged, creepy, obsessive, sycophantic, self-centred, morbid
many facades and facets make up elohim. in their past, elohim was a tom named flare. flare, poor dear flare. so naive and foolish, so trusting of all the wrong people that twisted his little heart and showed him how cruel the world truly is. duskpool was one, the leader, the death dealer. mercy kills for those that were unfit, it scared flare at first, but he began to realize that this was foolish. cruel to the dogs. playing a false god by taking life into his hands like that. flare's first encounter with the dogs came young, maybe six moons, he doesn't remember, it allowed him to forget. he was tossed in the air, his flesh ripped, fur destroyed, ears tattered...
and it was exhillerating.
in those moments, he knew what it was to truly live, to taste death and still cling to life. his face and eye could not be saved, but what broke became something new: elohim.
as he was recovering, that bastard duskpool escaped, leaving behind a legacy of death in his wake. a false godhood that he had played for far too long. when elohim was reborn, it was like a third eye had opened. no longer was he naive, too trusting --- he was fearless, analytical, examining all the scared cats in his wake, it was his time now.
what emerged was like fresh life from a cocoon. elohim was everything flare never was, and it used this to gain a following, a reputation it needed to uphold. it was now excitable, fascinated by the gore, by the way the dogs could so easily overtake it's kind. so driven in it's pursuits, so ready to command his following to rush to their deaths via the jaws of the pack. it was a passion, and despite how tactless and emotionless it came across --- it was their duty now. obsessive, deranged, and using everything in their power to gain power. it was a far cry from how they once were, and their one goal was revenge against the false god.
self-centered, elohim looks out for no one but itself. it also seems unaware that they have become what they hated, the very thing duskpool once was. though it doesn't consider itself a leader, moreso a godly being. the dog-pit is behind them now, and they intend to live their life to the fullest, shaped by what they saw.
— phobias: purrgatory, the unknown vein between godhood and suffering
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strength ★★☆☆☆☆
stamina ★★★★☆☆
agility ★★★★☆☆
hunting ★★☆☆☆☆
swimming ★☆☆☆☆☆
climbing ★★★☆☆☆
grace ★★★★☆☆
⤷ SINGLE ; INTERESTED IN NO-ONE YET
• currently padding after none
── open to pawns, followers, concubines (sorry, no interest in romance), mercenaries, wanderers to add to his flock
── closed to death, romance, friendships
— no need for friends, uses others to further itself
+ skilled in agility, manipulation
- poor in strength, hunting
— peaceful & healing powerplay permitted
— speech in speech color here ; thoughts ; attacks only in underline
— won't show mercy ; will attack kits, elders ; may flee
— smells like carrion, death
— sounds: ??? | ???
✦ scars/injuries: missing half of face, most of right ear gone, torn left ear, numerous scars across body
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— raised by daffodil alone
— sibling to many loners and kittypets (dm me or post in #asteiris-astronomy if you want to play one)
— mentoring none
— mentored by none
— Mate to none | Parent to none
ADMIRES. n/a CLOSE FRIENDS. n/a FRIENDS. n/a LIKES. n/a DISLIKES. n/a
NOTABLE ENEMIES. n/a DESPISES. duskpool
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KITHOOD: Born from a modest litter, two siblings, many half-siblings floating around from his rogue maverick of a father. He is born 'Flare', raised by his mother, Daffodil. Once he is weaned, the twolegs that own his mother try to sell him and his siblings, he does not remember if his siblings were sold... but no one ever wanted him. After trying in vain, eventually he is dumped on the street. He scatters at the sight of monsters, of larger cats, twoleg feet. Eventually he is captured by twolegs, taken to a cold area. Many cats like him everywhere, a large grey tom eyes him, he is terrified. The clawing smell of iron and blood around every corner, dead cats being disposed of like garbage.
YOUTH (APPRENTICE AGE): Bait. That's what they called the cats here. The large grey one seems to "protect" the others as he can, those who escape rest for the next run... those who don't suffer, or are killed by him swiftly in an attempt to ease their suffering. Flare is almost disgusted by the action, but hearing the wails of the cats writhing in pain changes his mind briefly. After his first few brushes with this, he feels more pity for the dogs. Denied a fresh meal due to his actions, playing god and playing with life. Flare seems to be cracking, but he doesn't verbalize this --- knowing he would be shut down quickly by those close to the death dealer himself, the head honcho.
His first run comes young, he's small, and the twolegs seem to think he'll be fast, a true test of speed for the dogs. Flare tries to sprint on pure adrenaline... and fails. He is grabbed, thrown into the air, and pulled between the two dogs. The pain is unbearable, but as he is thrown up again, he feels himself touch the sky... and something seems to shift. After the fight, he is picked up, most of the other cats assume he'll die shortly. He tells Youkai not to kill him, he wants to suffer, to know what it is to feel.
Youkai leaves while Flare waits for death, but in a surprise to everyone... he survives. But he's different now, shaped by what happened to him. A brush with death almost seems to make him... admire the dogs. He shifts after this, referring to himself as "it" or "they", laughing to himself. Most assume he cracked, a deep gash in his brain of some kind. But it is no further from the truth... Elohim has simply finally woken up.
It goes by Elohim after this day, a word it had heard twolegs use, a word it had seen in a book. It was powerful, godly... and perfect. It doesn't know what happened to Youkai after leaving, rumours were abound that he escaped to be with some molly, living on the streets. Not that Elohim really cared, for all they cared, the dogs could tear him limb from limb.
ADULTHOOD: Elohim stays with the dog-fighting ring for far longer than they should. It relishes in the violence, it the noise their fangs make as they bury themselves into the flesh of your skull or face. He loves watching the cats writhe in pain, waiting for a mercy kill that will never come. To suffer is to live, and to suffer is to die. Elohim watches patiently, collecting momentos when the cats finally die. It is so much scarier than anything else there, and others start to avoid him. The second time it is used for bait, it escapes, more scars --- but alive. Another thrill, watching as the snarling dogs can no longer catch it. It mocks them, and they back off. It knows power now, and it knows that a divine power smiled upon him that day.
It relishes it's past. Basking in the glory that came with those days, the morbidity of it. But... he does wonder if his old "friend" Youkai is still around on these streets somewhere...
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blah blah blah.
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