Post by }xx.£eaƒm∞n , , on Dec 12, 2010 20:18:44 GMT -5
Ay, Ay, Ay,
I'm your little butterfly
[/i][/color][/font][/size]I'm your little butterfly
TRIXIE is the name, and you won't soon forget it, no, Trixie promises you that you won't! Trixie's a mixed breed of the seemingly common type, but don't let that discourage you, no, she's quite alright for a non-pedigree feline. She's been around for, ooooohhh, three winters or so, not that time makes a difference anyway, Trixie thinks she looks cute all the time. If you can't tell just yet, she's a female, and a fine one at that, yes Trixie agrees! But, but but but, she thinks you already knew that, didn't you?[/color]
Green, black and blue, make the
colours in the sky[/i][/color][/font][/size]
Ohhhh, you say you want to see Trixie, dear Trixie? Yes, see see see you shall! Trixie is very pretty, very pretty, yes? Trixie thinks so! And yes being so pretty and bright makes it hard for Trixie to hunt, mmmmyes, but that's why Trixie can turn invisible, see see see? HA! You can't see! Oh, Trixie is clever, yes she is.[/color]
Someone who is strong,
But still a little shy[/i][/color][/font][/size]
You ask Trixie who she is? What she is? Ahh, Trixie is a stray, wandering to and fro wherever she wants to go! 'Tis a nice life, Trixie thinks; well, a nice life now. Trixie didn't used to be happy, but now she is.
What's going on in Trixie's head, you ask? Trixie will let the infamous narrator explain.
" This is a strange cat to say the least. Speaking in third person, always acting kittenish in her antics and jabbering about nonsense, many a cat simply deem her insane and ignore her until she goes away. She has some irrational fears, like that of crickets. Trixie was not always this way, though.
She once lived with humans as a normal kitten, adored by human children and well-socialized. Her fur used to be a simple creamish color, her eyes a sort of greenish blue. A common, but happy, housepet.
But as what tends to happen, these good things came to an end.
With the financial crisis of the country and with having to cut back and follow the jobs, the family sold their home and were forced to give Trixie, named for her love of Trix Cereal milk, to the pound. She was perhaps a year or so old at the time, and while confused, loyally waited by her cage door for the adoring family to return. The new home they lived in, though, was an apartment and disallowed pets.
A week or two passed, and still Trixie had not been adopted. Several litters of kittens from strays had arrived, and potential families sought them out, instead of the still young and playful little teal-eyed cat, who laid quietly by her door. As the days past, her enthusiasm became less and less whenever a human approached her cage. She was growing bored, and very lonely.
Eventually, a few takers did come to adopt her, but not to be a loving household companion again. Her coat color and eye color intrigued them, as well as some fellow cats nearby, and as a lot they were taken to a laboratory. There, they tested different dyes and designs one could use to decorate a pet cat, as the market for pet accessories and pet related things was declining due to a rough economy. Trixie wasn't treated too badly there; an unappreciated bath or two, strange and strong smelling colors applied to her fur. It was more of living in a cage, but at least the monotony was gone, and a few of the handlers seemed friendly.
The dyes proved to be a success, and there was a push for more pet modifications. What about fluffier tails? Or longer eyelashes? Or even wings? A humanized vision of aesthetics was to be tested on the subjects, named Lot 18 as a group, with each individual having a letter and number. Trixie was T13.
The first of the lot to have wings tested, semi-artificial wings were made from combining the cells and DNA of a butterfly with some protein-based material the lab had made. The result was a pair of iridescent, yet nontransparent wings, grafted into her shoulders. The surgery was not very painful, as they were careful to use painkillers, and eventually muscle cells were grafted to make the wings able to be moved (for the cat's convenience). The scientists didn't expect the wings to provide flight, though some cats like Trixie were able to make some shaky glides using the wings. It didn't seem to impair them at all, just modify them.
Then came the day when Trixie was to be giving antlers.
The operation seemed simple enough; grafting some antler cells reproduced in the lab onto her skull, see if they would take root and grow. No one really knows what went wrong during the surgery, other than Trixie woke up feeling quite delirious and kept shaking her head, trying to rid herself of the strange sensations on her forehead. The humans quickly noticed her odd behavior; she was constantly trying to get rid of the antlers, even as they began to grow, and would pace and meow to seemingly no one. She began to be aggressive towards the handlers, and acted more unpredictable and stressed as the days wore on. Finally she escaped from the grasp of an intern in a frenzy and bolted straight for an open door, straight out into the forest nearby. She wandered for many days, constantly rambling to herself about the "smelly, stupid, good-for-nothing bare-paws who did this to me". On that day, she would be around two and a half years old.
Trixie has no permanent home, though she tends to stay towards the west of the area, preferring the quiet forests and hills where she can hear herself think... and talk. Sometimes she'll talk to the prey, rather than catch it, which seems to show she has gone a little mad with lack of meaningful companionship, and still has a hole in her heart for the family she lost. Whenever another wanderer is spotted, they are quickly greeted and talk to for hours until they either prove to be aggressive or simply ignore her. Trixie has traveled near the colonies but finds them intimidating and stays away, remembering her days of living in cramped rooms with a lot of other cats. The cult is equally intimidating, for they live in a group and practice even stranger customs than Trixie does. For now, the poor soul wanders alone, yet with the way she chatters to herself (and any other listening thing), one would think she's never alone. "
Yes, I need,
I need my samurai.[/i][/color][/font][/size]
Trixie has no friends or lovers as of yet, but would very much like some, yes! Trixie misses her sisters & mother.
Mother - Ayla - unknown, believed to be still alive and a housecat
Father - Cyme - unknown
Sister - Kella - alive, living as a housecat
Sister - Luuca - alive, living as a housecat
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