Name // Rper // Date

NEMESIS

Metra E'tani // .:MadHatter:. // March 22 2010 - December 28 2010
Ruthless. Determined. Hardcore. A drop dead beautiful tabby she-cat with pure aqua eyes .Quite a shocker for the leader of a Primal Instinct which is supposed to be the cruelest clan in the forest. Oh well who said beauty comes with happiness? This is no dainty shecat to be taken lightly. Founder of the group Primal Instinct, she has an iron willthat allows no one to to second guess her decisions. Having trust issues of her own due to a betrayal that lead to the death of her siblings and murder of her parents, Metra does not have high hopes of finding a mate. Her fluffy orange coat hints at the layers of red and ginger beneath, a unique combination that suits her well. Her long tail is always kept clean, making her pelt look elegant. Concealed underneath her paws are some of the most sharpest, curved claws in the forest. They are curved just to be able to rip through my opponents fur easily. Her teeth just the right point so they can tear through flesh, prey and cat's.. It conceals all the hatred and evil in her heart. Her mind is a devious nice mind, that lets her come up with so many great plans, to rule the forest. She am quite the arrogant cat and take pride in her Clan that is well placed and deserved. Well at least some of the Clan. Her closest 'friends', the assassins do all the dirty work, so she don't get a bad reputation. Don't get her wrong though, she does dirty work. Just at the right moments. So even if you want to think that she have friends... well lets get to that part later. She loves to anger the other Clans and leaders. DayClan is her least favorite clan. You'll see later on in her life that she just loves to annoy that clan. Her favorite clan is CrowClan. Hawksar isn't that irritating to her, be one day she will spare them, when she rules the forest. Ok so back to the friend thing, lets get this straight. Metra have no friends. Maybe she has some select few cats that think they are her friends, but in the end they are probably going to die. She only pays attention to trainees in the clan, making sure they get trained the way she wants them to be trained. Metra's mate or mates, will always be spared in her world, never get punished. They will get treated well. Anyone who disagrees with her in her clan shouldn't be there. They have two choices. Get killed or run from her clan, like the little wimps they are.

Seraphiel E'tani // Jadeillusion // December 28 2010 - April 23 2011
Dreams into reality. Reality into illusions. This cat can appear in both your dreams and your nightmares. Make you love her and hate her. Tear you to pieces inside, leaving you shivering and standing there, not a single trace of blood on you. Seraphiel is a cunning thinker, and will sacrifice anything to get her way and to keep her League mates alive, and in power. Alliances can be dropped within moments, friends into enemies. When you first meet her, she is as friendly as cats in the League can get, attacking only when necessarily, and willing to talk things out. But her temper can change, not into a burst of hot fury, but more of a cold, calculating fury that is kept suppressed, only seen through her eyes and her actions. A beautiful silver Bengal, her silver-moonlit fur is lined with black lines and patches, with three significant lines down her forehead, the middle one thicker than the rest, looking like the Roman numeral one, with two lines on either side of it. Her golden eyes are rimmed and mixed with silver, and when they darken, the liquid gold hardens into dark gold amber. Has lots of respect for Metra, but also likes to voice her own opinions and give suggestions about certain matters. Likes to be sarcastic when she isn’t happy with other cats.

Indy E'tani // IndigoBlood or Sassysong or satinlights // April 23 2011 - June 2 2011
Don't test what you can not beat. Brilliant wouldn't even sum up a fraction of this Lethal she-cat. Not large nor all that intimidating at first sight. But rather beautiful and angelic. Most would be fooled. Indy is quite the backstabber. Analyzing you at first meeting memorizing your weaknesses and quarks She never misses a detail. Indigo eyes deep and enticing like the Circassian sea you step into Primal Instinct she will have you memorized from inside out. Black the forest Black like the night and Black like her very heart Indy has a Onyx raven pelt that even the moon can't reflect. A tail that fans behind her like her shadow she carries the scent of prim roses and the summer breeze. Hatred and Disdain has never had an image quite like this. But don't be afraid... yet. She is a fair she-cat with an opinion like any other. She values yours and will take time to listen and ponder but in the end she always goes with her own instincts. So stay on her good side and don't get in her way... you might see light at least one last time. Test and challenge?...

Frost E'tani // Oceanrapid // June 2 2011 - September 8 2011
Know the name. Don't forget it. Its a name of a cat that shows no eyy. She has a icey temper and a frosty disposition. She shows no love to anyone. Love is just a contraption devised to ensure to continuance of the race. She despises anyone who offers help to an enemy. Enemies are meant to be killed not nutured. Hate seems to be the only feeling that courses through this she-cats blood. Though shorter than most, this she-cat is fast and agile. Her long, atheletic body allows her to make fantastic leaps and moves in battle. She is lightfooted and lives to show off her endurance and speed. When fighting, she isn't afraid to break the rules a little bit and spill more blood than need be. All of the enemy is her target. She is not blockheaded though. She is intelligent and knows when her fight is over. This she-cat is white with two black rings on her tail. She has ice blue eyes and loves to stare others down with them. She is brilliant in most aspects except for one. Faith. She believes in nobody. Since nobody has ever followed through on their promises. Her filthy mother who sleezed around with any male she could find. She didn't keep her promise to love her forever. Her unknown father, never kept a promise to be there for her. Her brothers and sisters never kept the pact they made to stick by eachothers backs through it all. No. All of them disapeared and left her alone in the world. But, she doesn't mind. To have to worry about another life would only slow her down.

Katie E'tani // Ashenfate // September 8 2011 - October 19 2011
A beautiful gem is nothing compared to this she-cat. Long flowing calico furs that seem to dance perfectly into place. An attitude like that of a blade, a far from normal she-cat, indeed. Dark brown eyes that are the color of earth in a dark light, but a hazel color when the sun-light flits within them. A beautiful apperence, but is she that beautiful inside? Who are you to judge this unusual she-cat? Her personallity is like none other. Some might call this odd little she-cat bipolar. One moment she could be as happy and bursting with light, and the next she might be threatning the nearest creature. A quizzical cat indeed, as none can seem to read her right, her constant changing emotions seem to puzzle some. Though, there are two cats who know her best. Her two half-sisters. Indy, and Krys. Both of her siblings are very unalike, though this calico she-cat seems to trust both with her life. Her trust seems rather hard to gain, as she likes to keep on her guard at all times, as if paranoid. Paranoid? Her? Never, she can fight better than most cats, she wasn't made Nemesis for nothing! Sure, her hunting skills are not the best, but when she fights she looks like a goddess from oblivion. Her temper can sometimes be quick to snap, and yet sometimes hard to break at all. Depends on what mood you find the lovely beast within. Who is this ever changing she-cat that took over after Frost? Her name is Katie. A simple and easy name to remember, right? Some cats don't even get the chance to say her name.. Some cower in fear before they look within her brown gaze. Some know the fate that Katie will sentence, not all that pleasant. One thing about Katie. If she gives you mercy, she always expects something in return... Always.

Bat E'tan // Drizzledrop // October 19 2011 - October 26 2011
A long history of heart break and betrayal spans the pages of his life story. Not a life without regret either. It's twisted his heart from the good one it was to now one rightfully belonging to Primal Instinct. He's not easily overlooked either, especially because of his appearance. Bat is a black battled scarred oriental tom with amber yellow eyes and 'bat' like ears. Nothing stops him from being a ruthless fighter worthy of fear, not even his permanently twisted hind leg. He's found ways to manage, both hunting and fighting though it took a long time for him to get to where he is now. Life hasn't been kind to him or his family. His kits were Goldendance, Fernpaw, Blue, Wynterkit, Blackkit, Oskan, Batswing, Strawberrywrath, Robincharm, Rushingkit, Spiderkit. Snakekit, now all deceased. All that remains is his loyalty to the league, sucking away at his heart like a leech; infecting him with a poisonous evil. Now instead of being the fun loving tom he once was, he's a sardonic dark, and creepy tom because of life. Bat's past is a well guarded tale, ask and receive a gaping wound. He'd rather not walk down memory lane again, only the future bares significance to him and so does the league. Whether a family will ever grace him again is unknown . Bat loved and lost once and now he's become what he is today. It's likely that another loss would destroy him, no matter how hardened he is. But he found his soul mate once, a she-cat named Strawberryswing. His true love. Can it be said that love can fill his dark void of a heart again? Not even the smartest cat could solve that puzzle. It's an answer that only the future could know. A future that Bat would never consider. He broods in silence often awaiting a chance to soak his paws in blood, just like the days of his kit-hood before he saw the light. The light that made him sacrifice more than anyone should have to. But he's through grieving, his heart is as hard as diamond now. As cold as ice.

Raz E'tani // Veroar // October 26 2011 - January 9 2012
Her name tells it all; holding the meaning- secret, mystery. This she-cat beautifully displays a sun-kissed ginger coat, complimented by her endearing amber eyes. Her white paws provide an effect to her light steps, and she is most often a confident warden. This exotic shecat made her way into Primal Instinct's ranks rather quickly, due to her competency in battle. She is light hearted, but very sarcastic- and at times hard to get along with and understand. She's careful as to what she says, and a true stategist. Her whole life is like a battle ground to her, and she follows through each action with care. She considers those around her, and is mindful of their needs and their way of thinking. She enjoys easy-going times, and she seems to be all smiles. But what got her through her lonerhood and the PI? Her cunning, and charming will, of course. She has a way with toying with a situation, and forcing it to bend for the good of her, or her league. When she really wants something, she often gets it- and takes advantage of the extras. Raz may seem to be kind-hearted, but that is only because you are one of the many who can't see past her luminous and kind mask.

Raven E'Tani // BluestarRocks! - January 9 2012 - October 18 2012
A slender black shadow with pale blue eyes and one silver paw, the only thing that sets her apart from the darkness. Sly, tricky, swift, and extremely good at hunting and killing, Raven's biggest wish is to be the best Nemesis Primal Instinct ever had. Raven's speed is matched by almost nothing, though she still looses against monsters. She trains herself to be faster by chasing rabbits flat out, and has gotten so good that she could catch one by pelting after it from several tree-lengths away. She has two kits by the name of Brave and Moon but no mate. Her life as a kit was no easy walk, though. From birth she was being hunted down and her mother and father took her to the sea to a friend of theirs, a loner, who named her Raven, claiming she’d never make it past six moons in Primal Instinct. That loner raised Raven as her own, treasuring the tiny bundle of life, vowing to take her back someday. Unfortunately, only a moon after the loner took Raven in, the cat hunting Raven down found her and killed the loner. Raven was heartbroken, but still obeyed the last command her surrogate mother gave her, to run and only return when the hunter was gone. Raven had gone non-stop to get away. Away from the horrible memories that her former home left her. All Raven had ever known was the sight, scent, sound, and feel of the sea as well as the loner. Raven had once known security as well, but now knowing she was hunted, Raven only stopped once she was far from her home, a long trek that left Raven starved and alone. The only reason she was left alive was because the Dark Forest, sensing immense, unseen power inside the hunted, orphaned kitten, walked beside her and made sure she found food, water and shelter. When Raven finally stopped she still felt the dull throbbing in her heart, feeling like there was nothing left for her. Unbeknownst to her, there WAS something for her. Back in Primal Instinct. All Raven knew, though, was that she couldn’t get caught. She’d never known the comfort of her true family and League. She had been born outside the camp and given to the loner soon after. She’d lived with the loner for a moon, and at this point it had been a moon in her new home. Raven was only a two moon old kitten and had never known the feeling of security other than as a tiny kit, snuggled against the loner. Raven would be back with her family, enjoying the bright sunshine other than hiding from it, if it wasn’t for her hunter. Raven was forced to move again, right after finding a new home with another loner. The hunter had found her again and killed THIS loner as well. Raven learned that if she stayed in one place for too long she would be found and anyone close to her killed. Raven became a nomad at that point, never staying in one place longer than a few days. At this stage in her life, Raven had reached the still-young age of four moons. Despite being one so young, Raven’s wisdom and knowledge was as broad as the sea she’d known during the early days of her life. Another moon of her tortured life, and Raven felt ready to face her hunter. She was tired of being the hunted one and, even at the age of five moons, she probably was ready for it. When Raven finally found the cat that had put her through all this pain and suffering, it was the dead of night. She would have killed him unspotted if it hadn’t been for her single silver paw. The rogue had spotted that little flash of fur in the shadows, and had pounced. Raven’s small size and thin stature was the only thing that kept her alive. Each time the rogue swiped at her she docked out of the way, the wind from the blow hitting her fur. With each swipe and snap from the rogue Raven thought of everything she’d been through thanks to THIS cat. With each heartbeat Raven attacked harder and faster. With each blow landed on the rogue the crazier she became until she was a black-and-silver blur. A blue-eyed killing machine. When the rogue finally surrendered he was left in a still-growing pool of his own blood. The last thing he said was ‘I’ll be sure to tell your parents from Primal Instinct about how strong you’ve gotten. But don’t think this is over. I’m not the only one after you. I’m not alone in this fight. We’ll make your life as torturous as the Dark Forest.’ Raven had demanded he tell her what he meant, but all he did was smile as thelast of his life left him and he breathed his last breath. Raven’s silver paw was lost in the scarlet of the rogue’s blood. After hearing that she wasn’t a loner, though, Raven ran to the closest group of cats she could find. Frantic to find her true home, Raven didn’t bother hunting or drinking. By the time she reached Primal Instinct she was on the brink of death. She was found by a Trainee on a solo hunt and taken to the camp. At this point in life she was no longer a kitten, but the age of a Trainee. She’d finally reached the age of six moons and lived past her parent’s expectation. She was nursed back to health by the Trainee of Primal Instinct. She was allowed to keep her loner name, Raven, since it worked with the naming system of Primal Instinct. She trained alongside the Trainee that had brought her to her home and it wasn’t long until they got their warrior names. Raven and the tom eventually became mates and never left each other’s sides. That is, until he was killed. She lost him many moons ago. He had gone hunting one day and never returned. She had followed his trail several times, not believing what she was seeing. Every time she went to the end all that remained was blood and rogue-scent. She became a hunter once more, killing each rogue in revenge, and the only reason she stayed in her home was because of the only thing her mate left her, her two kits. She loves both of her kits and would do anything for them, never wanting to loose something close to her again. Raven can often be found in the middle of the night, staring up at the stars and whispering things about her mate. Raven can be very brutal when anyone says anything bad about anyone close to her. Her best attributes are her stealth, talent at killing and her talent at trickery. She could make her way out of almost any problem or make it seem like she's everywhere and nowhere at once with a tilt of her head. She uses both her skill to help her kill ruthlessly like Primal Instinct cats should. Her motto is simple to understand: "In a world where brute strength can make the difference between life and death, every one of my skills count and must be trained to perfection. Unfortunately, I call that world home,” and, as you’ve probably guessed already, this phrase means so much more than words to follow to her. To Raven, this motto is her life story.

Seraphina E'Tani // xx.sapphire // November 17 2012 - January 1 2013
A dainty feline is her outer sh ­ell. Creamy white fur coats her slender form, with flecks of silver on the top of her head and hear the joints of her legs. The most exotic cold and calculating fiery blue optics belong to her. She is a bit undersized, but don't underestimate her capabilities. Hidden inside those delicate paws are instruments of death, in which she uses quite often. Her movements are clean and light, and she can move quite quickly. She tends to snap at cats often, she enjoys solitude, although she is a popular cat. She's a goddess when it comes to beauty, and a devil when it comes to war. When she's angered, she lets it out in a rather white-hot drawn out fury than a red-hot burst of emotion. She is a master in the art of murder. Seraphina prefers to torture her victims before their eminent death, her most common ways are cutting them apart, or watching their loved ones die. She has her specialized tactics when it comes to targets. Seraphina is a lovely murderer, admired by others. She is stunning on the outside, yes, but the opposite on the inside. She's cold-hearted, merciless, and unremorseful. Once upon a time she was known as Evene, Proxy of Primal Instinct, serving under Metra E'Tani. When Metra passed, she was not chosen for Warden. She somewhat disappeared into the ranks, and when the league disbanded, she disappeared completely off the grid. It was a true eye-opening experience for her, as she finally knew what it felt like to be at the bottom of authority. This helps her while in battle - she knows what the inferiors think. She did not go to Venomclan, as most of the others did. However, she had eyes and ears in the clan, so she was informed and knew of everything that happened to her precious league. It was a true eye-opening experience for the feline, it gained her knowledge and wisdom. She is coming to the peak of her life, the golden years. Seraphina works hard for everything she does, and she earned every thing she has through hard work and climbing to the top. She is condescending to those inferior to herself, but she has skills and claws to back herself up. She picks and chooses her battles wisely, and she asserts herself as a superior whenever the opportunity surfaces itself. She despises being looked down at by anyone, even her Nemesis. She plans to be Nemesis one day, and she has earned the position many times over. She's patient, however, knowing that she'll get what she deserves soon enough. Already well on her way, appointed Warden, she has big plans for herself. Look out for her. She can make your worst nightmares into reality.

Dysis E'Tani // xxsunlight // January 1 2013 - February 19 2013
Once upon a time, a few mistakes ago, Dysis was a friendly, open she~cat. Now, I know it seems nearly impossible with who she is now. Her history caused her change to her polar opposite. She was born as a loner, and lived with her older brother. Dysis was a little bundle of energy, adorable and happy and lovable. But her happy life didn’t last. Her brother was killed by a rogue group, and little Dy, only 5 moons, was taken in by the leader, who recognized her beauty and potential instantly. He raised her, teaching her to be merciless and deadly. Dysis became an excellent fighter, and a cat who showed no mercy. She missed her brother greatly, but as she was taught to show little to no emotion, she never mentioned him. As custom in her group, she was paired up with a tom who became her mate when she was one year old. She had three litters with him, twelve kittens in all, but eleven of them turned out stillborn. Dysis was torn up inside, but she was fiercely protective of her surviving kit, named Hawk. She nurtured him, and showered him with love. Her mate found this disgusting, and took him away from her to train him to be deadly and emotionless. When Dysis took him back and refused to give him up again, Hawk was killed. For the first time since her training, she showed emotion. Dysis bawled her heart out, and was attacked by some of her group-mates. However, her superior fighting skills, agony, and fury came into play and she slaughtered everyone. Then, heart heavy, she buried Hawk and set off through the land. She was the perfect rogue group mate after that night. She showed no emotion, showed no fear or mercy. She slaughtered without question, and was well-known for a few miles around. Shortly before she turned 2 years of age, she found Primal Instinct. She quickly rose through power, and became a Proxy. Later the group was disbanded, but when it returned, she was reappointed to her Proxy position, then Warden, then eventually she became Nemesis of Primal Instinct. Dysis is a beauty, and it’s undeniable. Soft, medium-length fur that ripples out in different hues of orange and bright, sharp, intelligent green eyes. She’s a regular height, and a bit on the skinnier side, slim and sleek, allowing her to slip into small spaces. Her tail is long and fluffs out at the end. Her face is elegantly carved, with small features, a long muzzle. She has an air of confidence around her, because she grew more relaxed once she made acquaintances and even- gasp- friends in PI. Dysis is... complicated, to say the least. She isn’t kind, isn’t heartless. She isn’t fierce, isn’t harmless. She’s a cat who can’t be classified. It can be said she’s merciless, deadly, and skilled in fighting, and she is. It can also be said that she’s heartbroken, longing, and occasionally somewhat kind, and that’s also true. She fights with herself about who she is everyday. Her time with the rogue group made her unsure of who she is, and whether she belongs to a group at all, even if she would never betray or leave Primal Instinct.

Meelo E'Tan // theoretically. // February 19 2013 - March 15 2013
The best way to describe the feline would be as the grey between black and white. Meelo is a complicated male - at the very least - with a complicated past to boot. It was something he hated to be reminded of - until they returned. They say that, once you lose something, you'll never find it again. This only applied to Meelo a bit - whilst not all six - his siblings: Ness, Opal, Pexz, Raylie, and Qayzel and his mother: Belle - could return, two did. Ness and Belle. Although it's most likely to never find the other four again, Meelo knows to be grateful of what he has, regardless of the fact that he's never met his father, Chet, and that only one of the two remain, seeing as how Belle has joined Meelo's father. Time warps people, and it's evident in Meelo. As a member of the Clan of crows, he was rather solemn and serious, all his time devoted to his family. Now, as member of Primal Instinct, Meelo appears to be an absolute flirt - at the same time, though, he's an incredibly deep thinker with a realistic view on the world around him. It's quite obvious to see how he's popular among the opposite gender. Meelo is tall and lanky in stature, and has a roguish and rugged handsomeness to him. His dark, midnight blue eyes always seem to hold a promise of danger and thrill, and his thick hazel fur is almost always ruffled and messy. Before you judge Meelo, take a good look at him. He's more than you could ever imagine.

Hazen E'Tan // Firewolf3 // March 15 2013 - March 24 2013
There are two sides to every coin, but what if you were to stack them atop one another? With every one added it doubles the amount of sides, increases the shared density in the pile. Would it be right to see it as still only two faces or should each hidden side be considered? Invert this to get a good glimpse of how it might be said for Hazen. He might just have one face, but every magician has a dozen masks. Remove one to let the other show. There's no correct way to define him unless the term 'angled' or one of its synonyms comes to the batting cage. He can adapt to the set mood or decree his own; be a complete jerk or utter sweetheart. It all depends on which way the die lands. To be near him when it's cast to snake eyes is to beg for mercy. Which comes in no form simpler than death. A wrecking ball with no string attached to command it. He'll battle on until all the inherent blood is washed away. Only for it to leak from his severed heart and rehash his anger as the cycle renews. Not per say applicable for leadership. It's a wonder how he was ever adopted into the clan and dealt with for so long. A brooding storm bank just waiting to thunder down. But yet a simple soul who oftentimes cares only for his clan's well being. When he's not pillaging off the deeds of others for his own self good. Though it might not seem like it, Hazen has the blood of two past leaders in his blood as well as that of a medicine cat. His grandmother Mayhemstar and half-siblings Bat E'tan and Sarabande. He bears pride for his heritage even though it proves he's not a WinterClan pure of blood. As he sometimes would like to be, but that has long since fled his conscience since he abandoned his leadership of said clan and took refuge in Primal Instinct, quickly earning his way in the ranks of the league. With more connections to his family than he can name. Each has written its own tale to add to the many generations, all recorded in his blood and some in his mind. All soldiers who beat out a mixed hymn. Many bloodying their path in a way akin to the way he does his own, and some even taint his own handiwork. Just to show that Hazen does not laugh with one voice. The more he learns of his kin, the more impressionable he becomes to their deeds and mistakes. And the more masquerades he crafts to billow around himself. He isn't so normal in appearance either, his mother retaining Oriental genes and his father having those of a siamese. Tethers of a creamy off-white give life to his willowy, wedged frame. Muscles link together beneath the pricks of fur and add a rough topography to his build. Soft grays and rustic russets mesh together and accent his facial features and ears, most prominent along the bridge of his nose. Twin sequins of a pumpkin-amber were finagled into his design, set with a faint underwash of lapis lazuli blue that give off the impression that his eyes are indeed his soul. Transparent windows revealing the untempered wrath of his deepest dimensions. And yet could it be just another form of mask? Cleverly disguised in a haze of colour.

Desiderata E’tani // desiderata. // March 24 2013 - June 21 2013
Desired things. That is the simple translation for this she-cat's name, and it is a fitting one- for she is a feline with a sea of desire in her soul. Passion fills her every being, from the ends of her whiskers to the tips of her finely curved claws, and it sparks a flame of unfaltering will. When she wants something, she will do whatever means necessary to take it- even if a few lives have to be picked off here and there. Ambition and strife often possess her calculating mind, driving her to achieve any goal that is set in her line of vision. Though she has a pretty snow-pelt, and a lean-graceful figure, she is not a pretty cat at heart. Her every action is often made with only herself in mind, and she rarely performs for others. In ordinary circumstances, Desiderata is an introverted but observant she-cat, often assessing her league-mate's actions and exchanging of words. When caught in a conversation, clever word-play is always a tool she uses to keep some sort of upper-hand in the conversation. Trust is not an easy thing to come by, when expected from Desiderata, and is only given to those she finds worthy to have it. She has a bit of a queer gaze, though it is one that you will always remember- with her two optics painted different colors. One side is a brilliant azure color, almost warm to those who observe it long enough, while the other is a fragile color of mint- seemingly liable to shatter at a mere blink of the eye. Though Desiderata lives for herself and her ambitions, she can never seem to break the tie she has to Primal Instinct, the only place that has ever been a home to her.

Angel E'tani // Sandblaze290 // June 21 2013 - December 12 2013
Silently, one by one, in the infinite meadows of heaven. Blossomed the lovely stars, the forget-me-nots of the angels. Angels are pure and loving. They gaze down at the earth. Sometimes they're guardians for others. Well, not this angel. Her ice-blue eyes can be seen on the most darkest night. Her slender shape is hard to distinguish through the dark undergrowth. Light gray fur with black markings that are softer than silk. A dash of white the shape of a water droplet on her chest and a white tail tip. This angel sounds absolutely perfect. But she's not. This she-cat can be sarcastic, rude, and downright menacing. She's strategic and cunning. Angel desires power. And she isn't that power hungry. But she's hungry enough. This cat can kill and she can do it well. She enjoys the satisfaction of sinking her teeth into her enemies' necks and tasting blood. To her she must always be victorious. She knows when to retreat and to stop, but she always has a plan. She is good at hiding her emotions and cats can't seem to break her hard stone barrier she uses to block away cats. At a young age, she was abandoned. Her father lived in one of the clans and she searched for him after her mother abandoned her. She succeeded in finding him. He thought she was a nuisance though and ignored her. Angel murdered him in his sleep at night and fled. Then, a few moons later she joined Primal Instinct. There, she could finally spread her wings and be free. The dark angel is victorious once again.

Ryssa E'tani // xx.sapphire // December 12 2013 - December 15 2013
Satan in the form of a cat. The alias in itself is complex, in its glory and righteousness is beauty. How could we describe this intriguing creature? Ruthless. Hardcore. Merciless. Your worst nightmare, the very chilling thoughts that haunt you each and every day, amplified ten fold. You see all these supposedly "evil" cats and you see the same description, over and over. 'She'll murder you without regret!' Please. 'Watch out for her. She's very dangerous.' Give me a break. This feline takes "evil" and makes it seem like a safehouse for orphans. Ryssa E'tani is the one you need to watch out for. She's the reason that cats glance behind their shoulders every so often. She's why you are a parentless child. Being the Nemesis of Primal Instinct, you would expect her to be like so. But you weren't prepared for this. Ryssa is a beautiful feline on the outside. On the inside .. its questionable. She has the most beautiful intricate silver fur, but her eyes .. oh, her optics. They are the most beautiful feature she possesses. A sea of crystalline blue serves as a background. A midnight navy acts as a border around the iris. But the most amazing part are the gold speckles, like dapples of sunshine, that litter the impressive ocean. She isn't above killing anything. Kittens, apprentices, medicine cats, you name it. She's done away with them. Now, what kind of backstory could such a vindictive feline possess? That is the question, isn't it. What if I told you that she had the same story as fifty percent of the other cats in the league. Her father abused her, same old same old. She's blocked that horrid past from her mind. She was attacked by a fox while on her own, and it rendered her unable to move. So she survived off rain and the bugs that got too close until she could walk again. From there, she hunted down her parents and got her sweet revenge. Sound familiar? Of course it does. Half the females in the league share this past. So what makes her so different? Perhaps the fact that she's the Devil in feline form? You hear all these cats who have "no remorse" or "not a second thought". Well, when it comes to Ryssa, she doesn't even have a first thought. If you are on her bad side, she will get rid of you, one way or another. When she became Nemesis, taking after poor old Angel, the league was soft. They had found their pulsating organs in their chests, concealed by a mellow ribcage. The way Ryssa sees it, hearts are targets within other cats, her claws destined to puncture it and rip it out. The Nemesis had a long way to go. She disciplined them like never before, and this earned her a lot of hate at first. When the league suffered a dog attack, she broke. She didn't eat for nearly three weeks, and she rarely was seen. A cat, Cyri, dragged her out of her rut. She came back full-blast, stopping at nothing. The league was reborn with a new respect, unification, and the murderous intellect that it possessed under the rule of Metra E'tani. She fell in love once, and I know what you're thinking. How the heck can a monster like Ryssa fall for another? He went by the name of Scape. He was her whole world. She enjoyed his company, and he was the first person she opened up her life to. The one cat. And then, he disappeared. Nobody knows of his whereabouts now, though rumors of his death circulated. His absence shed a light on Ryssa. She realized how soft she'd gotten. When she was so busy, distracted with Scape, she herself was becoming soft. It was a true slap in the face for the Nemesis. She realized that love made you soft, and even considered banning it from the league. However, she knew it would reflect poorly on her, and she resigned that idea. She began to like someone again, her Warden, Cyrus. However, before she fell paws-over-muzzle again, she stopped. Love was a very tricky thing she her. She'd never been exposed to it, nor did she want to be in it. It was a sickly feeling for her. Its still a sickly feeling. After she lead the attack on Sunclan, she changed. She was even worse than before. She killed their medicine cat, a kit, an apprentice, a queen, and a warrior. She captured a warrior, the deputy, and the leader. She orphaned two kits. She made three cats join the league. All in the span of a moon. When they were finally driven out, Ryssa had developed a raging bloodlust. She killed almost anyone. Ryssa doesn't have the usual desires of her peers. Everyone wants love, they want to find themselves, they want to start a family. Not Ryssa E'tani. She wants to tear families apart. She wants to slaughter love. She knows exactly who she is and why she was placed on this Earth. Ryssa left a legacy in the league, moreso than any other weak leader that reigned before her. She's young to be a Nemesis, which is just all the more limberness for a strong leader. Ryssa reigns with an iron fist of white-hot metal. Her claws are a set to fear. Her fangs, which have sunken into multiple throats, give you nightmares. But, somehow, out of all this torment, torture, horrific talents and an adroit mind, cats respect her. Now, whether they respect her out of fear or out of admiration is their deal. If you look at it from an uninvolved standpoint, you would most likely be so confused as to why on Starclan's green Earth would cats follow Ryssa. Its because in this dark, cruel world, with the mind tricks and the high kicks, everyone is lost. They all just want a place to belong. They all desire to fit in, to be like everyone else, to know what they stand for and why. Ryssa knows the answers to these questions, and this knowledge gives her confidence and authority. She was born to lead, from the moment that cold, barren, black thing called her heart started beating...

Jynx E'tan // finalblow. // December 15 2013 - February 16 2014
Big baby blues open and shut as a tom looks at you. He's easily noticed, his plumes of smoke-blue fur stand out against most things. His boyish smile, though, is easily more noticable. His teeth perfect, his smile is enchanting. He uses it to woo and make the she-cats swoon for him, which he does often. He's a lady's man, to be blunt about it. Charming, handsome, and stunningly cocky. He thinks of himself as perfect, yes, flawless. Perhaps it is his biggest flaw, other than his acute sarcasm he uses quite frequently. Jynx is a tom who feels that the world owes him something, and for that, he sometimes seems to be high on his own horse. Well, most of the time he does. He doesn't seem to have an off button, especially with his charm factor. Just watching him smile, hearing the alto of his deep, refreshing voice, is normally enough to get what he wants. He found that true when he impeeded Primal Instinct territory. Oh, yes. He was a rogue who looked to settle down on that fateful night of his appearance. One that just happened to stumble his way into the hearts of the group. Guess his luck wasn't as jinxed as his namesake?

Swift E'tan // Silverfin1313 // February 16 2014 - August 19 2014
Nothing quite compares to the feeling of chill when you step from your warm den to the night outside, lit with thousands of bright little points called stars. You might gaze in wonder, thinking that every last one of them must be angels. Or you might turn away, because they are not angels but instead just little bits of light. Or perhaps, you do believe in angels, but hold no stock by them. Angels are cold. Swift E'tan learned long ago that angels don't help: they don't save you. You have to do that by yourself. Funnily enough, he bears a certain resemblance to those icy, astral creatures. A long, tall, slender body, quite graceful in all of it's movements. A bright silver coat, ghosted faintly over with paler tabby stripes that you don't even notice until the sun strikes off of it. Then, those stripes gleam like oil on water. His tail is very long, and fluffy: slightly plumed. He's slightly narcissistic about it: it is a fine tail, and he's grateful to have kept it. The backs of his legs are feathered, as is the back of his neck, ever so slightly. His fur is not overly long: just long enough to be very, very soft and fluffy. Perhaps not his biggest boasting right, but his eyes make up for it completely. They're a bright silver color, sterling, reflecting the light and casting it back in an almost crystalline color, rimmed with darkly glinting smoke gray around the edges, and flecked here and there with the sheer platinum of a spider's web lit by sunlight. You don't have to be colorful to be attractive: not at all. Swift is frozen in black-and-white. A particular quirk of his is evident only through very close observation- closer than he'll probably let you get- and that quirk is that he is missing a claw from his right front paw. His voice is quiet and controlled, deep-pitched, but strangely emotional. You might think that he is a noble cat. He is, but only on occasion. He tends to flip back and forth between three moods. His first is distinctly meaner and crueler. He will kill without a first thought, and is quite adept at tuning out all cries for mercy. He can use cold, icy phrases as a weapon, and regardless of harm to himself or others, he will accomplish what he's set out to do: which in a manner, would be his bravery. His second mood is much lighter: more thoughtful, a careful strategist instead of an icy brute. He cares for other cats when he is like this: truly. He'll make sacrifices, and he'll do astonishingly brave things that will make you wonder why he is here in the first place. His final mood is more of an armor: an icy cold shell that conceals his true thought and emotions. He lets more slip than he know he should, however: he tends to slip around people he know, or should know. He's not an all out genius, but he is a scary-smart cat which others have discovered much to their dismay. He'll also say thing that will make you lean away from him in horror. If you mention you like to swim in the river, he pertly respond that all of the dead bodies of PI are thrown in the river. He'll then add that sometimes live bodies are thrown in the river too. He sure doesn't care that you've been scarred for life by that. He is very strict about discipline, and if you start causing trouble, well then.... Swift E'tan is known throughout the forest for his short, quick finishing blows and deadly speed and acuracy. If you start causing trouble in his small army, he can get downright mean... merciless and cruel. He'd been known to hamstring his greatest enemies to make sure they cannot move, and then proceed to rip the fur off of your bones. He learned it from a master. Normally, however, he tends to be polite, rather noble, but chilly and distant. Maybe, as you've heard this, you get the feeling that he's more than what he seems. Well, sure. Isn't everyone? He keeps it all boxed in, keeps it cold and icy and merciless. He was raised to be a leader: in fact, groomed from birth. Now, it's his turn to rule the world. And he'll do so, icy and calm. Angels might be cold. Swift is too.

Roxanne E'tani // Hinata-kun // August 19 2014 - January 28 2016
Roxanne's solid brown pelt matches her hardened heart. Her eyes are a magnificent golden hue that dazzles frequently with mischief. Her pelt is covered in many battle scars that originate from when she was just an apprentice to just recently. Roxanne is just like her name describes with a rock hard soul and a sly personality. This she-cat isn't normal. The sight of blood doesn't faze her, the smell of death excites her, and she loves the feeling of a cat's life ebbing away underneath her paws. This she-cat isn't a force to be reckoned with. If you decide to risk your life in a fight with her you can expected a painful death because Roxanne is the kind of cat that enjoys playing with her food before killing it. However, Roxanne wasn't originally so heartless, and in fact was labeled as one of the most pathetic cats in Primal Instinct. Roxanne being half clan cat made it difficult for her to fit in. Her life consists of a series of tragic events starting with the banishment of her mother from her clan after the discovery of her mother's affair with a Primal Instinct tom. After her banishment her mother brought her and her siblings to Primal Instinct, with hopes of providing her three kits with a normal life that included both a mother and father, but sadly she was killed by the very tom who claimed to have loved her because of her mother's kind nature. Soon after her father murdered her mother her father committed suicide by climbing the tallest tree in Primal Instinct and jumping off. Roxanne was at first never quite right, raised to believe in the warrior code she went by warrior names. Going by Rockpaw when she was a trainee and changing her name to Rockfang when she became a hunter, but after the death of her siblings who were killed by the same clan her mother originated from the she-cat basically went crazy. In the end Rockfang changed her name to Roxanne and completely changed her personality to prevent herself from ever having emotions again. After her name change everyone in Primal Instinct changed her label from the most pathetic cat in Primal Instinct to one of the most ruthless cat's Primal Instinct had ever witnessed, but Roxanne isn't exactly witnessed, more so misunderstood.

Severine E'tani // #MUFFIN // January 28 2016 - June 23 2016
The red empress, queen of serpents, the burning one, all these titles are concocted and housed within a single entity, Severine. Welded from the heavenly fires, she is truly a sight to behold a sultry she cat painted in the most alarming and bright shade of red sheened in gold so that at angles, her coat seems to animate glistening with life wrapping her slender sinewy form in the crimson bath enticingly tight around her curvaceous figure. From her soul peers the colors of amber a vivid, metallic copper that mutates in shade giving the time of day the color of immortality, the hue of victory. Prideful and domineering, rarely would anyone receive not only respect but even a mere acknowledgement from this beauteous feline her cunning and wit paired with a soft tongue of velvet factoring into her impressive visage would clearly be the reason as to why so many are charmed to her. Hardly an amateur, Severine truly knows how to put on a show proactive, alluring, a mistress of the night, she has a vast understanding of how to manipulate others by pinpointing their deepest and most scandalous desires with blindingly lustrous piercing optics with a tongue like that of a bite. She bends to the will of no one and follows no authority other than the thumping of her heart and her own wild desires. Beg that she succeed for Severine has seen the throne of the gods, and it was empty.

Daireanne-Graice E'tan // #MUFFIN // June 23 2016 - August 29 2016
What is a commoner to a knight? What is a knight to a king? What is a king to a god? What is a god to a non-believer? True and sincere power is forged from smoldering desire in ones heart bursting into a vortex of flame and begins to char with an intensity, a near unimaginable strength hardly possible to be fathomed by mere mortals. What creature so exotic of a nature of the utmost obscenity can be concocted in a mold of slender proportions enveloped in a molten pearl eclipsed with liquid onyx and blossoms of foreboding pallor. Each aspect of his exterior demands for attention commands for the eyes of the unworthy to be drawn upon something so exquisite such that it can be classified as deific near immortal in sheer presence. Upon Daireanne's lengthy throat blossoms forth a thick collar a swelling of ivory froth that washes a tide of the hue tingeing the area near his abdomen the ruff of a vice, a choker of white befitting the regality of a sinner in grey. From his parted maw bursts a suave tongue a thick, pink, insignificant appendage that under his dominance twists situations seamlessly into his advantage a device as slick as his dapper exterior dripping with dazzling saturation, tarpaulin in a meticulous condition every pigment evident are on par with his everyday routine. Desires, lust, yearning consumes his mind the elegant, genial being merely clothing this raging creature delicately concealed under the thin hairline fissures of the truth. No one is created equal. In birth and upbringing some are swifter, some are more beautiful, and some are welcomed into poverty. Each being is congenitally divergent from one another and this inequality, this lack of fairness is what differentiates those who are feeble, born feeble and will stay weak, from those are willing to fight. Each movement executed, each word spilt from those cherry lips each are tinged with deceit never revealing the truth much like a true monarch whether the action be benevolent or cruel, it is carried out with near exquisite grace and elegance refined till the mind may not judge the morality of his actions shunning those who chose to live on their knees rather than die on their feet. After all, the truth is what he makes on it. Daireanne's mere presence and existence domineers those around him lacking sympathy for feline’s with hearts that are faint or take shelter in situations that offer potential peril due to his knowledge that this earth was created from the hands of survivors not those who fear the unknown. Though he has longed since become aware of the blackness within his heart, the science of him is truly alarming. To him, being powerless is akin to ascending into his own demise. He does not need companionship to function. Affection in order to perform. Nor light in his life to excel. Daireanne's effort were futile no matter how much he endeavored, these dark stains kept on spreading gradually growing larger but ever so surely burying him, consuming his mind in pitch black. The monsters that cause trouble without existing, the monsters that hide under beds, the monster who devour souls, are nothing in comparisons to the monsters who pretend. Those who dress with a heart even though they have no comprehension of the deep internal network of emotions that the living connect to one another. He fears them, but in truth, he is that dwelling demon within. Arms to hold or a heart to love he would trade it all for a weapon to rule or a sharper set of fangs. Another book of blood, raw and red when opened. The downfall of this mundane masquerading as higher powers to surpass the stiff social hierarchy in the world will be waking up to realize that even the most seemingly immortal of fires does befall to cinders and smoke. No farewell flowers blossom for him.

Duriel E'tan // Weakness. // August 29 2016 - February 20 2017
Survival is a choice. It is the decision to continue forth without fail, or to surrender to the claws of death that are always following close behind. The acknowledgement that he puts into this seems to be little, yet it is what he draws the life of his breath from. He has never feared defending himself, harming others to keep himself alive. With long claws that are always sharp, he is also sometimes known as the 'Lord of Pain'. At least, that is what he forces down the tongues of those he chooses to allow to live. Some believe that they can turn the tables on him, yet his greatest strength is his ability to withstand. He's durable and smart, able to run longer and take more hits before being brought to his knees. Matched with his resilience, this tom lives without fear and is arguably a great opponent in battle if you have no will to live. White-cream adorns this tom who has the tendency to sit like a king, followed by gray and brown spots that form into gentle stripes at points. Magnificent grey blue eyes seem to top him off perfectly. He has the bloodline of royalty, and expects anyone lower than him to treat him as such. Although he is no tone to be rash upon giving punishment to those who don't. Instead he is patient, clever enough to wait for the perfect opportunity. A grudge with him may seem like no big deal at the time, but he turns at the perfect chance to return the 'favor' and never lets it go until honorable punishment is received. He also likes his upper advantages, both in power and positioning of himself. Thus, he adores trees and higher positioned rocks. He has a way to him that allows him to seem like both an elder and a kitten at the same time, and is easy to amuse, but neither make him weak. Placed among his invisible throne is his mother,Savannah. Deal is his father, and his siblings are always welcomed in all their royalty. Tathamet,Mephisto, Diablo, Baal, Andariel, Belial, Azmodan. Those are names to remember if you wish to avoid confrontation with him. Although he has his down moments with them, they are family and to him blood runs thicker than water. Thus, it is only his family and him who are allowed to bicker among each other.As for his royal past, that bloodline leads across Crowclan's past. Although now Primal Instinct has the honor of their line dripping in, like the blood that leaves his victims. Survival is a choice. Although you're not the only one making the decision.

Quartet E'tani // IndigoBlood // February 20 2017 - June 5 2017
She is regal and clothed in beauty. She knows she is better and she acts like it too. Her silk white pelt is long and flowing. It hangs from her small frame like a long evening dress. Her paws are dainty and she radiates feminine, feline, grace. If only those who have fallen for her charms knew that her grace was truly poison. Like an albino viper she drifts slow and easy. slithering her sweet words and empty promises till her pray falls for her temptations. Then she strikes and strangles the breath from the poor soul.Love is not impossible for blue eyed devils. Once upon a fairy tale Quartet loved and was loved in return. But to be trodden upon by ones own heart is like burning from their side out. She was abandoned pregnant and full of grief that transformed into dripping poisonous hate. She swore if she were to ever come across the tom who scorned her,she would claw his eyes out and torture him for all he had done to her and her kits in leaving. At night when the crickets whisper and the clouds move slowly across the moon lit sky. You can here the soft cries of a mourning she-cat singing her sad song.

Lazarus E'tan // ambient. // June 5 2017 - September 17 2017
You think I’ll be the dark sky so you can be the star? I’ll swallow you whole. The starless night, a mantle of black smoke settles on the well toned physique of the tall, dark, and handsome tom. Second only to his half-brother, if Micah stands as the sun, Lazarus is the eclipse that stands to cover the world. An icy warrior created for battle, he is the untamed. He is the wild. He is everything you can’t control. To unknowing for his father's liking, a cat of few words. Stern in his personality, stoic in his features. Lazarus is aloof, blunt, sadistic, and outwardly emotionless; being less friendly than his golden brother. He is a warrior, nothing more and nothing less. Only in the heat of a good battle does the tom gain to feel any peace in his raging soul. The sweet cries of battle his lullaby, as cries for mercy ring in his ears. His smile is like the sun on a hot summer's day with eyes like ice. Though it appears the callous tom knows nothing but the battle field, he does show a crack in his armor that is far more surprising then one would suspect. Intimacy. While the subject is vast universe of mystery to him and one he is sure he will never understand, even he is capable of such a feat as it shows in his kits whom he had sired with a passing female. Albeit it’s a rare sight to earn his respect or affection, he’d never admit being the incredibly proud tom that he is.

Vera E'tani // xx.sapphire // September 17 2017 - February 24 2019
Words have no power to impress the mind without the exquisite horror of their reality.

The Pravian Empress. The queen of evil. The deviless. The Nemesis who changed the league. Slayer of infamous cats such as Raven E'tani, Ryssa E'tani, Katie E'tani, Silentstar, Robinstar, and Seraphina E'tani. The word 'Vera' has the power to strike fear into the bravest heart in the forest; the word 'Vera' has one of the most unique and heinous of definitions. Beyond a landscape of ice and smoke is a figure of bone and blood and breath. A framework of elegant ebony bones comprises an elite structure bound to layers of lean muscle. A viscous black liquid percolates the capillaries of her extremities, forming vessels for an inky poison that serves as her blood. It returns, crimson and hollow, to a frigid environment that houses the strongest muscle of all, a heart made of stone and ash and located in the center of her chest. Encasing this intricate network of demise is a uniquely beautiful exterior, with a pale sienna base coat lacerated by labyrinthine black slashes that effectively identify her as a bengal. Long limbs protrude from her elite frame, enabling enhanced hunting and canter, end in soft white paws concealing sharp weapons of mortality. Her eyes, a desaturated field of chartreuse wheat, are alive with blue hues and patterns reminiscent of lightning strikes. Strikes and slashes, they define this feline. There's a reason she became the Warden of Primal Instinct after only two weeks of membership, and Nemesis only a few weeks later. Power is something you're born with. It exists deep with you, embedded in your genes; true power is something your very DNA encodes for. For some, there is no being without power; the two concepts are meshed - they do not exist separately. Power consumes their every thought, every move, every fiber of their existence. Others fear it. Fear that stems from a lack of understanding, a feeling of being unable to control it. In the absence of knowledge, fear exists. Still others, however, harness this power in such a way that it becomes them and they become it -- they are the living, breathing embodiment of authority. The sable fluid that surges through Vera's arteries is the blood of royalty, the ichor of nature. Purebred, she is called, above all kings and queens and vagabonds. She originates from a syndicate believed to exist solely in night scare stories, traipsing from a coalition of legend. Pravus Nocte, translating literally to 'Evil Night'. Recall, simple words are meaningless in isolation, fatal only when they carry the weight of an exterior meaning. The group is nomadic in nature, rendering them impossible to locate or verify the existence of. Legend has it that they are the sons and daughters of Hell, risen only to wreck havoc on the land of the living, bringing torture to innocent souls and inflicting pain on whoever failed to run fast enough. They are cats of myth, whose skill levels outmatch that of the most skilled devil around. Perhaps fantasy has entwined itself with history - they did not literally crawl up from the underworld. Everything else? The Clans only pray it isn't true. Vera did not only originate from these abhorrent villains of folklore, but she was their future leader. As the firstborn kitten of the Czar and Czarina, she was crowned Haeres, next in line to become Czarina, the divine monarch of Pravus Nocte. When Vera was informed by the Order that she must murder her three siblings, she devised a way out of it. She was commanded to start with the youngest sister, Raelynn. Arranging for her sister to sneak away and fake her death was the only option. Death was the only way out of Pravus. After holding a ceremony for a false body with the help of her mate, Vykodin, the son of the Head of the Ordermen, Vera gathered her remaining siblings, Reyanna and Ruslan, and fled the syndicate, initiating weeks of sleeping with one eye open, running in the darkness, and imagining the worst. Vera was saddened at the prospect of leaving her love behind, but she would do anything for her siblings. Eventually, the trio came upon Primal Instinct It was in the league that Vera saw potential, the promise of a different life. She would overtake the place and rebuild it in her vision. By converting Primal instinct, she would construct a realm that had the power to stand up to Pravus Nocte; she would have an army of conscripts to defend and secure her new empire. In her reign, Vera has shown to be a ruthless tyrant, the extent of her evil infecting the league like a virulent plague, wrapping its black tendrils around each heart that dares to beat in her kingdom. It began with the New Order, a set of cruel laws she imposed on the league. Immediately, the cats who had been starved of blood for so long responded, and the league began to evolve under her rule. Primal Instinct had been the nuisance of the forest, but after Vera's New Order, they transmuted to living lethal weapons, cats with blackened hearts who the Clans no longer dared to mess with. To secure the league's place as a ruthless menace, Vera initiated the first of a few historical events: the Brookclan Destruction. Never before had a leader been able to completely vanquish another group, and so in destroying Brookclan, Vera became infamous throughout the region. The few survivors from the battle scattered for many weeks, and Brookclan as it was known was no more. From then on, it was inarguable: Vera E'tani was a force to be reckoned with. It was after a few moons that the Shadow Reign began, when Vera's past began to catch up with her. Bodies were being left throughout the territory as a warning from Pravus Nocte, including the body of her sister, Reyanna. Vera was devastated and thrown into a darkness she had never known before. A third of her reason for living was now dead. Time progressed, and Vera sought out Pravus Nocte, speaking with Vykodin. He had become the Head now, and so she made a deal with him to steer Pravus away from the league. Vera soon gave birth to her first litter of kits: Thane, Blythe, Sitana, Arden, Ryker, and Cyra. Suddenly, despite her pain over losing her sister, she had six more reasons to survive. Two more litters soon followed, although she had to keep her distance from Vykodin. Time progressed and Vera decided to remind the forest that she was still at large, and she launched the Dayclan Massacre. She forged an alliance with Understar and Winterclan to join in. Several Dayclan cats were slaughtered in this battle: kits, apprentices, and warriors alike. Then, another tragedy struck: she found her other sister, Raelynn, murdered. Vera was once again heartbroken, but she wasn't prepared for what she learned next: Ruslan had been the one to kill her. In a daze, Vera confronted her brother and discovered that he had also been the one to murder Reyanna all those moons ago, not Pravus. After a long and drawn-out battle, Vera slayed her own brother to avenge her sisters. Losing all three of her siblings sent her into a raging madness, and she unleashed her pain on yet another clan: the Moonclan Devastation. More cats died in this battle than Brookclan or Dayclan. The Nemesis, albeit a calculated killer, is at an internal loss. Her world had been shattered. Her very reasons for living, for coming to the league and seizing power, were dead. What was her purpose now? She is lawless, hardcore; she is the embodiment of hell. Her littermates were the only ones she cared for, she trusted, living by their Pravian rule: Tra'kala ru lasum, always and forever. But what do you do when forever is severed by the claws of your own blood?

Solaris E'tan // xxsunlight // February 24 2019 - May 6 2019
Humble origins to ultimate control, Solaris spent his life climbing the ladder of Primal Instinct. To assume that this was luck of the draw would be to underestimate this seemingly taciturn tom. He was born to former rogue parents who had been initiated into the League, and grew up among the cats of Primal Instinct. He learned their ways, became acquainted with their way of life. Trained from a young age to kill, Solaris became one of the best. Part of this is due to his size- he is an immense ginger tom, powerfully built and robust. He learned early to compensate for his slower speed, and gained somewhat of a reputation for his fighting abilities. Over the years, his few outspoken enemies had a tendency to mysteriously disappear. On the surface, Solaris seems more unassuming that the other cats in the League. He is slow to speak, preferring to listen and analyze. When he does speak, his voice is measured and composed, his words carefully selected. He never reacts out of pure emotion, which makes him a different brand of deadly than the typical Primal Instinct cat. Solaris bides his time, he plans and schemes and kills with a lethal intentionality. This former Nemesis has a soft side, surprisingly. He works for the good of the League, and was more connected to the cats of the League than a regular Nemesis. He caught the eye of the last ruler, Vera E’tani, with his training of the weakest cats of the League. Half a year into his reign, however, he was blinded suddenly in a badger attack, and was forced to step down from his position. After he was blinded he gained the elusive and mysterious power of the Sight, and agreed to serve as Pathologist. He has recovered well from his injury, learning to navigate and explore the world through different means. Though he may appear altruistic, you would be wise not to double-cross this tom; he holds enormous power and lacks inhibitions about spilling blood to get his way.


Marchosais E'tan // blankslate // May 13 2019 - June 28 2019
Life is such a cruel game, one that crushes it's players with little regard. Marchosais is not a tom who carries a tragic backstory, there were no murders witnessed in his adolescence. No deep betrayals that scared him so deeply trust became impossible to find. Though the concept of trust is still something he has a poor grasp on. Either trusting to much to readily or not enough. Born to a rouge mother and father, a pair that managed to bare and raise 7 kits without loosing even one. An impressive feat, one that would be just as impressive among that clans as well or within a group. Marchosais was always one of the more outspoken kits, possessing big dreams and lofty goals. Ones that his siblings shot down and mocked him for, but he is a stubborn tom and one who does not let go easily. He clawed and struggled his way to success time and time again in every aspiration until perhaps it went to his head. Easily upset when things don't turn out how he wanted them to and prone to petty fits and outburst to express this emotion rather than dealing with it in a civilized manner. Rules are not something he ever conforms to and he tests his limits almost constantly, which means injuries are not uncommon to spot on the tom as he works out his hypotheses through trial and error. He finds knowledge and secrets where he can and projects emotions as easily as a ballet dancer filling their role. Emotions are things to be used and discarded rather than carried around at all times. Connections things to be made for immediate use and then forgotten so as to not get tangled within them. The only ties Marchosais allows himself to keep with him are those that tie him to the ones he loves. But even those he can confidently cut loose at the first sign they may not benefit him in the long run.

Mother E'tani // blankslate // June 28 2019 - August 15 2019
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Sigmund E’tan // Hinata-kun // August 15 2019 - August 23 2019
“It is sometimes an appropriate response to reality to go insane.”

They used to tell him he was blessed, born when the planets aligned or favored by the gods themselves. So talented the young tom was, so vibrant, and full of life. Always a sparkle of mischief in his spring green eyes and a bounce to his step. He thrived under his fathers guidance and his mothers shrewd eye. Equal parts a fox as he was a hound, loyal but cunning as well. He cultivated these attributes and helped them flourish under his care. Until he was a household name among the city cats, known only as Hook, but known all the same. He brokered deals, made problems disappear, and brought about miracles. A jaunty tone to be whistled always at the ready when he came out triumphant. Perhaps he grew to large for his role, to confident or self-assured. Because one day he found himself ambushed, shoved under water as former partners tried to drown him. Eventually he passed out but he awoke alive rather than dead. Alive but also missing part of himself. His brain was all messed up, a puzzle missing pieces with no clear picture to begin with. A neurotic sort of madness was born in him that night, one that blossomed as he wandered lost through the city. Even his name forgotten to hi. All former grace and suave danger wiped from his memories; leaving a twitchy paranoid creature afraid of the very shadows he passed by. He didn't regain a name until an old ghost from his past came across her. Gifting him his old name of Sigmund even if he was no longer half the cat he used to be. She recused him from the trash, in the literal sense, and he followed her with the lost gaze of a puppy. The name she gave him was Mother but to him he was Savior. To weak to chase him off she tolerated his presence and around her he slowly started regaining old pieces of himself. A picture became clear as she told him more about his old pseudonym and what he used to do. Things that had been lost returned and old skills while dulled where quickly gathered into his repertoire once more to be sharpened. Soon the pathetic mutt the she-cat had taken pity on became a dangerous mind once again, more cynical than ever before. Not that those who came across them would ever know that though, for the tom on the outside is the same neurotic unstable mess he was when she found him. But they know the truth of him, and he knows the debt he owes her. So like the hound he carries within his character he will always come to her call. Clever like the kitsunes of old and more complicated than even the multilayered puzzle box he lets no-one know what lays within his true character. Those that show even a hint of suspicion are dealt with quickly. His name is Sigmund, once known by Hook. Predator of prey who is to say.

Funk E’tan // strawberrycupid // August 23 2019 - current
“There's a fine line between genius and insanity. I have erased this line.” - Oscar Levant

You all know him. You all love him. You can't live without him. The mad doctor with a silver tongue and words laced with poison. The Cheshire cat who smiles with more teeth than joy and who's morbid curiosity will always lead him back no matter how many times he's killed. Addiction and chaos blend together, creating the black as night roast that is Funk E'tan. The base is surprisingly light and short, an auburn brown color like brown sugar and just as sweet to the taste with no scars to rough it up. Black rosettes like roses and stripes like blades of grass grow from this ground, swirling together along his slender frame. Topped with a muzzle as white as whipped cream. he is shockingly slim for a Primal Instinct cat, much less a Nemesis. But he stares at the world through light celadon eyes, the very windows to his soul appearing to be sick. It's a contagious virus he's spread over to countless victims and the like over the last few years. What the Nemesis lacks in physical prowess, he makes up for in cunning and strategy. Born a kittypet, he left that life out of boredom and joined a clan, but also ended up leaving that life by repaying their kindness and teachings with a mass poisoning of the food supply. Empathy has always been a stranger to him, divorcing the thought even more as he traveled anywhere he could; making medicine and giving it to anyone he could get to drink it with a little sugar. At first, he tested his theories on himself, ingesting anything he could get his paws on. But his immune system quickly caught on and now he can only get the same high if he watches someone go through it. To call him magnetic would be an understatement, all things good and evil are drawn to him. He fulfills his wish of maintaining the greenhouse at the cost of becoming Shaman. His kits thrive as other Nemeses die, leaving him to pick up the pieces. A crown was placed on his head as the corpse of his mate hung above his throne. Perhaps the reason they let him keep the position is because he keeps picking himself up after every blow, truly the embodiment of the ideals of Primal Instinct. A bright and hard working leader who takes no one seriously, who relishes in the pain of others, who will use and abuse anyone in his way until he just throws them away like scrap and could watch the world burn with no qualms. No one needs to know the desperation in drowning his emotions in any few inches of water he can find, the compulsive need to be in any position of power he can get, the constant lying and betrayal just to get no one to trust him and ridicule those that do, the throwing of his heart around just waiting for it to break again and to laugh it off. The karmic line between love and pain, genius and insanity, has blurred in his eyes, shaky and runny as they melt together. Constantly on the quest for knowledge, he'll continue to throw everything together without care. It's only a matter of time before it blows up in his face, but maybe that's what he's waiting for.