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Description
Edit: Added simplified markings and which color corresponds to which marking. So many colors... O.O

Name
Nevaeh (Nev-Aih)

Nickname
Nev

Gender
♀

Age
2 years

Gang & Rank
Cahaya Guard

Breed
Abyssinian/Color Point

Accessories
1 hoop earring, 4 studs of various sizes, an eyebrow piercing, and two tail rings.

Personality
The epitome of everything punk, this little she-cat is a dangerous enemy but a loyal and trusting friend. She's a jerk, a bitch, and hopeless. She challenges others in contests of strength, trying to make friends in the only way she can; finding someone stronger than her, or who can ignore her bitchy exterior. She knows what her appearance makes her look like [long legs and a rather slender physique usually equals weak but fast], and exploits that weakness in others as much as possible. Because despite her appearance, she is in no way fast. Sure, she has a longer reach than others, but she's very slow. She mainly resorts to brute strength and her size to win fights. Someone thinks she's weak, frail, or not good enough? She'll show off a little, make sure they know who their dealing with. She may be tall and lean, but she is in no way weak. She's as strong as any other guard, and makes it a point to prove it. She'll be right up in another cat's face, growling, spitting, flashing her claws, etc. She's rough and tough, and despite her well-kept appearance she doesn't care about getting dirty. Nevaeh was left alone from a young age, the few memories of her family consisting of how to survive and basic fighting just in case. That's the only reason she survive alone in the city for as long as she did; those few moves saved her more times that she can count with all of her claws. Nevaeh doesn't have a fight or flight response; she has a fight response. With her overconfident and stubborn personality, the moment she met her first Infected she was scared, yes, but she fought tooth and claw to survive. Turning and running is not an option to her, and anyone who does so are considered weak. The only time and place she would even consider it is if she was outnumbered in the middle of the night.

Those brief memories of her family are consider her only treasures. She remembered basic fighting moves, how to find water, how to catch food, and where to find shelter. Brief flashes of red-brown and darker fur, the scent of her mother, and the warm, deep, bubbling voice of her father. That is all she has. The value of the memories went up steeply when they helped her survive,because for as long as she can fully remember she has been wandering. Always traveling, trying to find a home, and maybe some peace. Because despite her rough and tough personality, and her seeming lack of tender emotion, she's broken inside. Underneath that prickly “touch me and you die” exterior, she's a whirlwind of emotion below. She wonders about her family, about her place in the world, and about her future. Sure, she now has the Gang. Sure, she has others to protect, but all she really wants is someone to love her. She's a hopeless romantic, though she'd never admit it, and occasionally risks nightly walks just to stare at the stars and ponder her existence, and if anyone could actually love her the way she is. She knows she's a bitch, she knows others tend to avoid her and don't like her, and although she has learned not to show it, every time she walks by and someone turns away from her, it hurts just as much as the first time she was rejected. A painful thorn in her heart, she is always in pain knowing that she cannot change who she is, and that others rarely like her just the way she is.

After the fight with her Infected mother, she closed off her thoughtful, caring, kind personality and replaced it with how she is today; boisterous, bitchy, constantly trying to prove she is better that who she thinks she is. After knowing she had murdered someone she had once loved, she put up a wall of detachment that she hoped would cause everyone to avoid her. She's afraid that if she ever loves anyone, they will only get hurt because of her. Despite this, she still hope to find someone to love her and change her for the better, but not force her to. She wants to change, yes, but she wants them to change her with love and affection, not change her to suit themselves.

Facts:
She hates water. Yes, she'll drink it, but anything larger/deeper than a puddle terrifies her; even just the thought.
Her favorite food is pigeon.
She likes to make up stories about constellation she creates; her favorite story is the lonely baby bird that lost its parents.
She has been known to shirk her duties when extremely aggravated.
She'd never leave a cat outside to the Infected if there was a chance to save them.
She loves kits. Seriously. If a cat, friend of her or no, were to pounce of her tail she'd shred them. If a kit were to do such a thing, she'd play with it and shower it with love. She hates to see sad kits, and just the thought of a crying kitten breaks her heart.
Despite her love of kits, she would hate to be a Den Mother. She thinks that, even though they are busy with kits, they could be doing other important duties. She knows this is irrational, but this doesn't stop her dislike of that rank.

Appearance
An Abyssinian and color point cross, she has a tan main coat, a dark over coat, and lighter belly, darker socks on her forelegs accompanied by darker gradient stripes that match her tail tip stripes. Her ears sport various stripes in a dark brown color, including black tips, and her sapphire blue eyes are framed with a tan-cream color with an arrow of brown in the corners. Her fore legs have a band of dark brown around them, just above the gradient stripes. She's a huge fan of jewelry and piercing, and sports many of her own.

Family
Twitch [Status Unknown]: Father
Christelle: Mother
??? [Status Unknown]: Brother
??? [Status Unknown]: Brother

Mate / Crush
None, but she secretly hope to find one someday.

Backstory / History
Nevaeh was born along with two brothers to a very happy Abyssinian father and Color Point mother, Twitch and Christelle. They were content in their life, living just on the outskirts of the dead city. They had prey enough to feed their family of five, shelter, and the danger of the Infected was minimal. The family was happy for only a few months. Winter rolled along, and prey became scarce. They had to journey farther and farther into the city each trip just to bring back the minimal amount to feed themselves. One night, when the kits were a couple months old, Christelle went out alone to find food. When she didn't return by the next morning, or that evening, Twitch knew she was gone for good. He taught the kits what he could about survival, making sure they memorized everything, and taught them how to defend themselves. They were small, as kits are, and could do more than trip over their own feet. Having done what he could, he kept drilling into them the necessary components of survival, until they turned three months. Now twice their size than when they had started, the trainine had made them stronger and they were confident in their abilities. Twitch sent them off in three different directions, each heading for different parts of the city. Twitch the succumbed to the numbing heartbreak that had taken over him since Christelle had became an Infected, and waited until nightfall to wander into the dead city. There, he found her, dull white eyes and barring needle sharp teeth at him. When she leaped, he didn't flinch, only welcomed finally being with his love again.

Nevaeh, being young, soon forgot about her family. Her life revolved around hiding at night, spending the dark times huddled under an overturned trashcan so as not to be found, and spending the daytime searching for food and a better shelter. She became accustomed to the wails of the Infected at night, and though the screeches sent shivers down her spine, she wasn't worried about them finding her. Her first confrontation with an Infect came when she was searching for food one morning, when the sun was still rising and the shadows were still long. She poked her nose into a shadowed overhang, and was met with the glaring white eyes of an Infected rat. It was scrawny, but still nearly twice her size. She fought with it, narrowly avoiding being bitten, and eventually killed it with a rather clumsy bite to the neck. Afraid of what might happen to her if she ate it, she let the cadaver alone, and instead went for normal prey elsewhere. She avoided that section of the city after that, but still met and fought with Infected as time wore on. A year passed, and she was then fully grown. She was on a walk during the night, along a low rooftop, when she was cornered by a snarling growling Infected.

This was the first feline Infected she had met face to face, and for a moment fear washed over her, cold and paralyzing. It was a she-cat, she could tell, and she had medium length gray fur and darker markings on all paws, her tail, and her face. Though her eyes had long since been white and staring, Nevaeh knew they were once a pale sapphire blue. This was her mother, she could tell from the deep recesses of her memories, but she couldn't face the truth. She killed the Infected, and though she knew she had killed her mother, she had a sense of peace about the incident. She knew her mother was better off now, and though she yearned for the comfort of her long lost family, she was glad she now knew what had happened to her.

She never once met her brothers, or her Infected father, but she knows they are out there somewhere. And, sometimes, when she is out walking under the stars, she wonders if they think about her like she does about them, every single day.

RP Example
Fear gripped her, sending Nevaeh into a terrible dread that froze her paws but, for the first time since she had entered the city, gave her the sudden urge to turn tail and run. The gray fur, the dark face, the gentle slope of the ears and the rounded fluffed up tail. This monster was her mother. Her breath came in gasps, and as the terrible Infected slowly inched forward, yellowed claws unsheathed and teeth bared. Memories came over her, then, filling her with dread and causing a storm of emotions within her. What could she do, other than kill this horrible shadow of the she-cat that had once nurtured and loved her? Yes, the memories had long since faded, replaced instead of memories of the city, but the feelings were still there. The warmth and safety she felt when she knew her mother was there to protect her, and the sorrow that had filled her when she had suddenly disappeared from her life.
Now, with her mother before her, now an enemy, she chose. This... thing was not her mother. It might have been in a past life, but now it was a ruthless, mindless killer. Its eyes were proof; they were glazed and starring, white and creamy. The beautiful sapphire they had once been replaced with the ugly eyes of the Infected Nevaeh knew only too well. Now, Nevaeh stepped forward, and against everything that she held dear about her mother, she unsheathed her claws. The fur along her spine rippled, and she barred her teeth in a growl. Knowing full well that once entered this battle, she was going to leave it as a different person, she leaped.

Relationships

Student/Mentor
Acquaintance
Friend
Good Friend
Crush
Family/Like Family
Love (Family or Mate)
Slight Dislike
Despise, Hate, Enemy/Rival

/Twitch: “My father... I am glad for what you did for me, and I regret not knowing what happened to you. I know you are out there somewhere, whether waiting for me after death or out in the world as an Infected. I wish you well, either way.”

/Christelle: “Mother... I hold nothing for you but deep sorrow and painful love. Having to kill you, Infected or not, was the hardest thing I have ever had to do.”

Description
Edit: Added simplified markings and which color corresponds to which marking. So many colors... O.O

Name
Nevaeh (Nev-Aih)

Nickname
Nev

Gender
♀

Age
2 years

Gang & Rank
Cahaya Guard

Breed
Abyssinian/Color Point

Accessories
1 hoop earring, 4 studs of various sizes, an eyebrow piercing, and two tail rings.

Personality
The epitome of everything punk, this little she-cat is a dangerous enemy but a loyal and trusting friend. She's a jerk, a bitch, and hopeless. She challenges others in contests of strength, trying to make friends in the only way she can; finding someone stronger than her, or who can ignore her bitchy exterior. She knows what her appearance makes her look like [long legs and a rather slender physique usually equals weak but fast], and exploits that weakness in others as much as possible. Because despite her appearance, she is in no way fast. Sure, she has a longer reach than others, but she's very slow. She mainly resorts to brute strength and her size to win fights. Someone thinks she's weak, frail, or not good enough? She'll show off a little, make sure they know who their dealing with. She may be tall and lean, but she is in no way weak. She's as strong as any other guard, and makes it a point to prove it. She'll be right up in another cat's face, growling, spitting, flashing her claws, etc. She's rough and tough, and despite her well-kept appearance she doesn't care about getting dirty. Nevaeh was left alone from a young age, the few memories of her family consisting of how to survive and basic fighting just in case. That's the only reason she survive alone in the city for as long as she did; those few moves saved her more times that she can count with all of her claws. Nevaeh doesn't have a fight or flight response; she has a fight response. With her overconfident and stubborn personality, the moment she met her first Infected she was scared, yes, but she fought tooth and claw to survive. Turning and running is not an option to her, and anyone who does so are considered weak. The only time and place she would even consider it is if she was outnumbered in the middle of the night.

Those brief memories of her family are consider her only treasures. She remembered basic fighting moves, how to find water, how to catch food, and where to find shelter. Brief flashes of red-brown and darker fur, the scent of her mother, and the warm, deep, bubbling voice of her father. That is all she has. The value of the memories went up steeply when they helped her survive,because for as long as she can fully remember she has been wandering. Always traveling, trying to find a home, and maybe some peace. Because despite her rough and tough personality, and her seeming lack of tender emotion, she's broken inside. Underneath that prickly “touch me and you die” exterior, she's a whirlwind of emotion below. She wonders about her family, about her place in the world, and about her future. Sure, she now has the Gang. Sure, she has others to protect, but all she really wants is someone to love her. She's a hopeless romantic, though she'd never admit it, and occasionally risks nightly walks just to stare at the stars and ponder her existence, and if anyone could actually love her the way she is. She knows she's a bitch, she knows others tend to avoid her and don't like her, and although she has learned not to show it, every time she walks by and someone turns away from her, it hurts just as much as the first time she was rejected. A painful thorn in her heart, she is always in pain knowing that she cannot change who she is, and that others rarely like her just the way she is.

After the fight with her Infected mother, she closed off her thoughtful, caring, kind personality and replaced it with how she is today; boisterous, bitchy, constantly trying to prove she is better that who she thinks she is. After knowing she had murdered someone she had once loved, she put up a wall of detachment that she hoped would cause everyone to avoid her. She's afraid that if she ever loves anyone, they will only get hurt because of her. Despite this, she still hope to find someone to love her and change her for the better, but not force her to. She wants to change, yes, but she wants them to change her with love and affection, not change her to suit themselves.

Facts:
She hates water. Yes, she'll drink it, but anything larger/deeper than a puddle terrifies her; even just the thought.
Her favorite food is pigeon.
She likes to make up stories about constellation she creates; her favorite story is the lonely baby bird that lost its parents.
She has been known to shirk her duties when extremely aggravated.
She'd never leave a cat outside to the Infected if there was a chance to save them.
She loves kits. Seriously. If a cat, friend of her or no, were to pounce of her tail she'd shred them. If a kit were to do such a thing, she'd play with it and shower it with love. She hates to see sad kits, and just the thought of a crying kitten breaks her heart.
Despite her love of kits, she would hate to be a Den Mother. She thinks that, even though they are busy with kits, they could be doing other important duties. She knows this is irrational, but this doesn't stop her dislike of that rank.

Appearance
An Abyssinian and color point cross, she has a tan main coat, a dark over coat, and lighter belly, darker socks on her forelegs accompanied by darker gradient stripes that match her tail tip stripes. Her ears sport various stripes in a dark brown color, including black tips, and her sapphire blue eyes are framed with a tan-cream color with an arrow of brown in the corners. Her fore legs have a band of dark brown around them, just above the gradient stripes. She's a huge fan of jewelry and piercing, and sports many of her own.

Family
Twitch [Status Unknown]: Father
Christelle: Mother
??? [Status Unknown]: Brother
??? [Status Unknown]: Brother

Mate / Crush
None, but she secretly hope to find one someday.

Backstory / History
Nevaeh was born along with two brothers to a very happy Abyssinian father and Color Point mother, Twitch and Christelle. They were content in their life, living just on the outskirts of the dead city. They had prey enough to feed their family of five, shelter, and the danger of the Infected was minimal. The family was happy for only a few months. Winter rolled along, and prey became scarce. They had to journey farther and farther into the city each trip just to bring back the minimal amount to feed themselves. One night, when the kits were a couple months old, Christelle went out alone to find food. When she didn't return by the next morning, or that evening, Twitch knew she was gone for good. He taught the kits what he could about survival, making sure they memorized everything, and taught them how to defend themselves. They were small, as kits are, and could do more than trip over their own feet. Having done what he could, he kept drilling into them the necessary components of survival, until they turned three months. Now twice their size than when they had started, the trainine had made them stronger and they were confident in their abilities. Twitch sent them off in three different directions, each heading for different parts of the city. Twitch the succumbed to the numbing heartbreak that had taken over him since Christelle had became an Infected, and waited until nightfall to wander into the dead city. There, he found her, dull white eyes and barring needle sharp teeth at him. When she leaped, he didn't flinch, only welcomed finally being with his love again.

Nevaeh, being young, soon forgot about her family. Her life revolved around hiding at night, spending the dark times huddled under an overturned trashcan so as not to be found, and spending the daytime searching for food and a better shelter. She became accustomed to the wails of the Infected at night, and though the screeches sent shivers down her spine, she wasn't worried about them finding her. Her first confrontation with an Infect came when she was searching for food one morning, when the sun was still rising and the shadows were still long. She poked her nose into a shadowed overhang, and was met with the glaring white eyes of an Infected rat. It was scrawny, but still nearly twice her size. She fought with it, narrowly avoiding being bitten, and eventually killed it with a rather clumsy bite to the neck. Afraid of what might happen to her if she ate it, she let the cadaver alone, and instead went for normal prey elsewhere. She avoided that section of the city after that, but still met and fought with Infected as time wore on. A year passed, and she was then fully grown. She was on a walk during the night, along a low rooftop, when she was cornered by a snarling growling Infected.

This was the first feline Infected she had met face to face, and for a moment fear washed over her, cold and paralyzing. It was a she-cat, she could tell, and she had medium length gray fur and darker markings on all paws, her tail, and her face. Though her eyes had long since been white and staring, Nevaeh knew they were once a pale sapphire blue. This was her mother, she could tell from the deep recesses of her memories, but she couldn't face the truth. She killed the Infected, and though she knew she had killed her mother, she had a sense of peace about the incident. She knew her mother was better off now, and though she yearned for the comfort of her long lost family, she was glad she now knew what had happened to her.

She never once met her brothers, or her Infected father, but she knows they are out there somewhere. And, sometimes, when she is out walking under the stars, she wonders if they think about her like she does about them, every single day.

RP Example
Fear gripped her, sending Nevaeh into a terrible dread that froze her paws but, for the first time since she had entered the city, gave her the sudden urge to turn tail and run. The gray fur, the dark face, the gentle slope of the ears and the rounded fluffed up tail. This monster was her mother. Her breath came in gasps, and as the terrible Infected slowly inched forward, yellowed claws unsheathed and teeth bared. Memories came over her, then, filling her with dread and causing a storm of emotions within her. What could she do, other than kill this horrible shadow of the she-cat that had once nurtured and loved her? Yes, the memories had long since faded, replaced instead of memories of the city, but the feelings were still there. The warmth and safety she felt when she knew her mother was there to protect her, and the sorrow that had filled her when she had suddenly disappeared from her life.
Now, with her mother before her, now an enemy, she chose. This... thing was not her mother. It might have been in a past life, but now it was a ruthless, mindless killer. Its eyes were proof; they were glazed and starring, white and creamy. The beautiful sapphire they had once been replaced with the ugly eyes of the Infected Nevaeh knew only too well. Now, Nevaeh stepped forward, and against everything that she held dear about her mother, she unsheathed her claws. The fur along her spine rippled, and she barred her teeth in a growl. Knowing full well that once entered this battle, she was going to leave it as a different person, she leaped.

Relationships

Student/Mentor
Acquaintance
Friend
Good Friend
Crush
Family/Like Family
Love (Family or Mate)
Slight Dislike
Despise, Hate, Enemy/Rival

/Twitch: “My father... I am glad for what you did for me, and I regret not knowing what happened to you. I know you are out there somewhere, whether waiting for me after death or out in the world as an Infected. I wish you well, either way.”

/Christelle: “Mother... I hold nothing for you but deep sorrow and painful love. Having to kill you, Infected or not, was the hardest thing I have ever had to do.”