Peregrine Strongfleet

[crabumz]

Name: Peregrine Strongfleet Gender: Male Date of Birth: March 21st, 2007 Height: 31 cm (around a foot tall) Sexual Preference: Heterosexual Status: Not Neutered Coat Color: White Coat Pattern: Solid Eye Color: Brown (right) Green (left) Fur Length: Medium Appearance Extra: Two different colored eyes, thanks to genetics and a mitotic crossing-over. History: Born in the streets of Frankfurt, Germany to a lovely tramp of a tomcat and a doll of a mother, Peregrine (then at the time named Wohlgenährt--meaning 'Well-Fed'; talking about his size) was the largest of a litter of six, and often was dubbed "the King of the Streets." In fact, he was so much bigger than his sisters--that's right, he was the only male of six--many people asked his mother if he had been the only survivor of a previous litter; which she denied, of course. Another attention grabber to this kit was his color, all his sisters were pitch black, like his mother, leading many to compliment on his fine, cream coat, and for him to suffer the gluttonous, and sometimes violent envy of his siblings. During his younger years, Peregrine always wondered why some cats would be found trapped inside of these large, box looking things, placing their paws on invisible-force fields and mewing mutely at him. He'd always strain his ears to hear, but to no avail. Sometimes, he see a large, frightful critter on two legs--yeah, only two legs!--appear beside the cat, and begin rubbing and nuzzling it like he would do with his mom and sisters. This troubled him greatly. Were these two-legged ones cats, too? One day Perry, or Wohlgenährt, was determined to find out. Happily running and tackling his mother, he steadily pounded her with a million questions, and it was thirty minutes before she came across one she could understand. Smiling warmly, she then described the magical life of humans, and how she too had once been owned by them. She said the food they ate was sometimes questionable, but extremely delicious, and blew the stuff they ate every night out of the water. After hearing this, the cream colored Tom was determined to live with a human and experience these pleasures. How amazing it would be to sleep on a cushion by a fire-creating-machine (aka, a heater) and be out of the cold, rain, and scorching heat! The once "König der Straßen -- King of the Streets" so became a huge "Mooch of the Streets" and every time he laid his eyes on one of this fabulous humans would break out in a series of cries and pleas, rolling on his back and flashing the sad eyes; often pawing at their hands, his mouth gape and crying out for food. Most of the time, sadly, he was ignored. This left him questioning the true kindness of these two-legged creatures, and was about to stop his attempts at food until one day--it happened! The now year old tom had been wandering the streets, now separate from his family and with a girlfriend of his own, and in fact with this girlfriend when he spotted the couple. They were two American tourists, named Eva and Benjamin. They were in their fifties and were pleasantly plump, and totally and completely happy looking. They immediately approached the two cats, offering food. Perry's girlfriend, Engel, was completely unsure of the two-legged, and didn't accept the rich piece of sausage. Perry tried to encourage her, but she was all to frightened to even approach them, even as her mate happily munched on a juicy link of Wurtz. Ducking her head, she looked away, slowly walking off, "I'll catch you later, Wohlgenährt-leibe." And she was gone ducking off into a back alley never to be seen again. The reason why? This happy American couple was going to be in good ol' Deutschland and wanted a memoir of their trips; and their hearts had been captured by the large, white tom. Although their words were strange to him, and he could not quite interpret what they were saying--they didn't speak German, but English--he still loved them very much, and didn't struggle as they loaded him in a big, comfy crate in which he would spend the next twenty hours or so in. At first, he was happy, joyous even. But then the first, slow waves of realization were rolling in. He was never going to see his mom, his sisters, or his dearest Engel again. And she had been pregnant with their kittens. At first, the sadness wasn't much. He just sat there, quiet, in that damned crate. He didn't blink. Just sat there, his thoughts growing more and more dire. Soft sobs began emitting from his maw, he vision becoming blurred. Then, these deep, racking coughs came belching out, along with deep, stabbing pains in his sides in chest. Overworked; the large time eventually cried himself to sleep, and stayed snoozing the rest of the journey, awakening on a large, plush pink couch. At first, everyone's tongue was weird. Especially the cat Sammy the couple had. Peregrine couldn't understand a word that girl was saying! He could make out simple things, like "hello" and "good" and "yes" and "no", but everything else was a mystery! Their language was so different than the one he grew up with! This caused the tom to go into a series of depression, forever warping his personality. He grew irritant and impatient, and mature beyond his years. Many say he acted like a tired, old grandfather than a youthful, young cat of not even two years. He wasn't as playful as he used to be, and hardly had the hungry passion for food like during his times in Germany. In fact, he cursed food, for it was the reason he ended up here! Sure, he loved Eva and Benjamin, but everything else he hated! The once lovable tom became dark, conceited, easily agitated and lonesome. Leaving his adoring owners to believe he was sick. He was taken to the vets many times, and said he was perfectly fine--leaving Eva to worry more and more, often bothering her husband about it. Ben eventually grew tired of this, and decided to do something about it. By now, Wohlgenährt, now always called Peregrine, or Mr. Strongfleet, was beginning to decode the English language. He could hold a steady conversation when he was wide awake and alert, and could now basically get the gist of what his owners were trying to tell him--but when he grew sleepy, or angry, he'd slip back and forth from German to English, for example: "Darn you, Sammy! I told you nicht zu stehlen, das Wasser aus der Schale, ohne meine Erlaubnis!" Leaving the poor she-cat clearly befuddled, and feeling as scorned as a kitten who hogged the tit might. One quiet night, whilst Perry and everyone else in the household was sleeping, Benjamin came into the cat's room, sneakily picking up the massive, alabaster tom and taking him out to the car. Driving him off to an old, long road, he said his teary good-byes, and that is was the best for his wife. "You're killin' her, Peregrine. Quite literally. Her cruddy old heart--Haha, she can't take you!" And with that, he dropped him out of the car, sitting there for a moment before hurriedly driving on home. Personality: Perry was born a lively, cheery fellow, before being converted to a storm-cloud of a cat. He's easily agitated, likes to be a lone, and has a dry, sarcastic tone about him. Despite this, at times he is rather a hopeless romantic, and often dreams about his old mate, Engel. Despite being extremely prideful and sure of himself, there is a few things he is very conscious of, especially they way he talks. His voice is thick and lathered in a German accent, and often he doesn't say things properly, or when talking quickly will trail into his native language. Despite all this, with the right person, the male can be cornered back to his old self, if not only for a moment, and it is hard for him to hide his true feelings when he really is gleeful. Despite his large size, he really is athletic, and loves to run! Not at anything in particular, but just to stretch his long legs. In his youth, he never liked to do this much, but as he grew older--and moreover grouchier--he began to partake in running, jumping, and hunting more, and this wasn't a bad thing. His once plump figure became long, lean and toned, although making him older in appearance due to the wear and stress, all the more giving him character. When he sees a mouse, rat, or any prey animal really, his first thought isn't "FOOD!" (unless his is hungry) but a relief of boredom and an exertion of stress. It gets his mind off the things that have bothered him for years--how Engel and the kits are doing, if his mom was still alive. Oh, about his sisters, no matter how dreadful they acted! With kittens he has absolutely no skills; although he isn't exactly unafraid to try. They usually end up getting on his nerves, resulting in him chasing them frantically around in a small circle--and when he eventually gets out of breath, he will emit something along the lines off, "Ugh, I'm going to kill you all." Not exactly making him a favorite around mothers. When he does try to be patient, kind, and humorous--it will be around a tom quicker than it will around a female. Not that he hates them or anything, but after losing his previous mate, he always feels awkward talking to them. Not to say he isn't polite, he's always polite, simply with a lifeless, monotonous tune. This doesn't seem to really get on people's nerves; but I'm sure it isn't the life of the conversation. He'd rather sit in thought than play, especially when it comes to getting dirty. Not exactly his favorite thing to do. His pelt not being short, nor exactly long, but being white as it is, dirt is distinctive upon it--and he doesn't exactly want to be mistaken for another cat with a black pelt. And besides, feeling dirty makes you feel, well, just that. Dirty. Disgusting. Unkempt. Most of the time the white feline will be found cleaning and grooming himself, happily. When it comes to dogs, he isn't afraid. Of course, he knows they usually have foul intentions set toward cats in general, maybe not him specifically, but felines. Anything with four legs and goes "meow!". If a dog were to challenge him, he wouldn't decline like a coward, but usually try and use his mind to work his way out of it--or directly go for the vitals. When it comes to life and death, there is no time for showy games, no matter how miserable it can be at times--he doesn't mind living, thank you. Image: In the siggy and as my avatar. Your OOC Name: Krabbie Other Characters On the Site: I used to have Spice and Faux; but I'm trying to start new.