Haunt

**Haunt** is a black cat with ice-blue eyes.

**Haunt** was born as a kittypet to unknown parents.

## Appearance

Haunt is a slender tom with downy, unmarred jet-black fur darker than the deepest shade of night. The only marking of any sort visible on that meticulously maintained pelt is a splash of white dotting the tip of his slender tail. He is somewhat short in stature, presenting an elegant poise with nearly untouchable confidence befitting a tom much larger than himself. Haunt’s ice blue eyes contain the frigid gleam of piercing judgement, their unsettling stare causing even steadfast cats to feel on edge. Dexterous, soft paws hide dark and wickedly curved claws of unusual length. He finds great amusement in dragging these along hard surfaces, eliciting a grating screech most unpleasant to anyone with working ears. Though the tom can be considered superficially beautiful by most, his presentation thinly conceals a rather disturbed and depraved individual underneath. Sleek, onyx-hued feathers collected from city ravens can often be seen twisted into his coat.

## Personality

Heartless, calculating, and cold. Any cat living in fear of Opal’s infamous gang would describe their notorious spy Haunt in such a way. The eccentric tom travels between each corner of the various towns, ensuring no disturbances to the group’s air-tight infrastructure have occurred. Any potential usurpers, betrayers, and/or debt evaders would be swiftly discovered underneath Haunt’s heart-stopping stare. He could lurk in any shadow, hide beneath any terrace or overhang. These various “concrete forests” are where Haunt feels free to run amok as he pleases. The pendulum of his eccentric personality swings ever so unpredictability between beguiling charmer and brutish berserker. Despite possessing natural wit and cunning which he could easily use to his advantage, Haunt prefers to fight ruthlessly when given the opportunity, inspiring fear in the hearts of others by the knowledge he could ruin their lives if he so chose is a twisted comfort he embraces to its fullest extent.

No cat today would ever believe that the city’s shadow had initially been born a kittypet. Though his past name is not one Haunt will ever utter, his memories regarding that past life are not so easily forgotten. His weakness as a kitten taken from its mother too early and placed into an unfamiliar household will always linger with him despite his best attempts to quell these doubts. Due to his standing as a rare Ojos Azules cat, he had been bought as a replacement for his human’s recently deceased pet of the same breed. Young and unsocialized, he didn’t know how to interact with the remaining resident of the home- the littermate of who he was currently "replacing." The negative chemistry between these two was immediately apparent. Pampering and kindness bestowed upon him by the housefolk only further fueled the bitterness of the older cat towards this kit who so presumptuously tried to impersonate their beloved littermate. Harsh words weren’t the only thing that was exchanged, as soon casual cruelty evolved into blows. Not being able to stand the mistreatment any longer, the kit took the chance to escape. Naïve to the new sort of hell he was getting himself into, the kitten looked back once before vanishing into the city.

He was completely inept at feral living, being far out of his depth almost immediately. It was clear he wouldn’t survive long at all on his own. Perhaps a stroke of fortune had finally befallen the starving, helpless cat when he was caught foraging in a small rogue group’s territory. They took pity on him, deciding to use him as one of their own. He agreed, knowing this was the best option for survival and being grateful for even this much.

Falling into line with members of the street gang, the kit did as he was told, watching and learning, growing steadily stronger despite the harsh environment. Those rogues never referred to him by a name or title, simply labeling him "that kit." It was something he didn’t begrudge them, not having earned the right to a name yet. He kept working for them as the code of the Twolegplace came into beautiful fruition before his eyes. The harvest of this fruit was a sudden and vicious attack of a rival rogue group. A fight over squalid scraps of territory, a mangy lot worth several lives of the cats the kit had looked up to. The kit’s own group was scattered to the grave or the wind, yet the now bitter cat wouldn’t run from this. As he sunk his claws into the throat of his enemy, he knew this was freedom. Finally, he avenged his slain counterparts and somehow proven to those who had looked down on him that he would lie in hiding no longer. He had his vengeful fantasies fulfilled with each rogue he dispatched, a haunting thought at the back of their mind before he came for them eventually. So Haunt is the cat he became, and that kit was nothing more than the bitter nostalgia-tinged cobwebs at the back of his mind.

Swearing off showing weakness or dependency, Haunt tore away any vestiges of his weak previous lives. He was merciless, only growing to revel more and more in the cruelty his new persona afforded him. Willing to shed blood for the slightest provocation or even over nothing at all, it felt good to be respected. That self-assuredness only grew as he was offered a deal to work prominently for one of the most infamous groups in the city. Of course he accepted such an offer to further his own reach. It was all he could’ve hoped for this new life.

Time will tell if the dangerous path he has chosen will catch up with him. Haunt has no qualms in raising as much strife as he can, arrogantly daring those who have a grudge against him to settle it face to face.