Quill

**Quill** is a gray cat with sage-green eyes.

**Quill** was born as an outsider to unknown parents.

## Appearance

Long-haired, dark gray coat with intense sage-green eyes, Quill strikes an imposing figure. He is borderline tall, but not overly large, with strong shoulders and a well-built, evenly proportioned frame. His face is long and angular with ears coming to an erect point. His coat always appears to be well-groomed and without much tangle despite its length. One could say Quill is rather handsome—if it weren't for the terrible burns marring the right half of his face and upper shoulder, giving it a horrendous, almost melted appearance. Where the scarring begins, there is no hair except in a few splotchy patches that then give way to his waking nightmare. Flesh, puckered and angry, warped and shiny where it stretches across his prominent cheek and brow; his haunted right eye the only feature left unscathed. And yet, those eyes...

## Personality

Quill is a phantom. He lurks where others cannot see or wouldn't think to look, but he can see them—and he watches very closely. A lifetime of hardship as a loner and stray has taught him that the world is cruel and in order to survive, one must be cruel in return. To be cruel, one must be clever and calculating, one must develop certain... unsavory skills. In all of these things, Quill has made himself a master. He is a perfectionist in everything he does, and when things do not go the way he has meticulously planned (including the contingencies he obviously made as well), he can become volatile and violent—unhinged. That said, he is not unable to think and react quickly on his feet. Like a chess player who must change strategies to outmaneuver an opponent, Quill can shift his focus and be back to planning three-steps ahead within the blink of an eye. While easily deferring to violence as a simple and elegant solution to most problems, Quill is also more than willing to stoop to threats, blackmail, and—one of his most hard-earned skills—manipulation. His deep, lilting and almost musical voice can whisper such sweet, false promises like a fly to honey.

For as long as he can remember, Quill has been alone. Yes, he has occasionally allowed others to share his company, they are few and far between, and even fewer of them live to tell the tale. Quill likes his privacy—he likes to remain unseen, and for good reason too. The number of times he has been rejected, spat upon, struck, laughed and screamed at could fill a deep enough pool for him to drown in. His grisly and grotesque face is a constant reminder of why he should keep his distance; get too close, too comfortable, and you will be burned. A hard lesson learned at a young age that twoleggers are not to be trusted, and that a quiet, unseen phantom is better at manipulating cats than revealing oneself.

But despite all that, there is still a small part of him that wonders—longs to know a soft touch and a quiet, earnest word. What would it be like to share his lonely, shadowy world with another? One who didn't despise him or turn away in horror or pity? And with every passing moon, that dangerous voice that he keeps carefully locked away grows a little stronger. Perhaps such a cat exists. He just has to find her and make her see him.