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survival of the fittest
Cats of all shapes and sizes cross through our lands, so I can’t say I’m terribly surprised we crossed paths. Quite a time you found the League in. We’ve had our highs and our lows, but we’ve always persevered. Almost like a cockroach, you can’t really kill us. This was once the abandoned city of Absum Lux. When we took it over, it was like a paradise all to ourselves. World was our oyster. Of course, all good things must come to an end. The twolegs came back and with them came the trumpets that caused our Jericho walls crumbling down. With the city revamped, so too have our ideals. But don’t come here thinking we’re soft. We’ve survived worse than you’ll ever throw at us. Our teeth are made of iron, and blood has coated these new streets. Just because the monster under the bed hasn’t scared you recently doesn’t mean it's dead.
congrats to Ian, Lore and Shadow on becoming Shaman, External Affairs Proxy and Internal Affairs Proxy in order please congratulate them. and don't worry, we have plenty of tryouts ahead
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Smooth muscles hide underneath long fur of blacks and greys with eyes in contrast of being startling green. One of regal appearance is that as his name suggests but there is nothing regal about him. Born to the lowest of lives how could he ever be considered that of high status? Instead he was born a loner and living the life of just that, stealing for food instead of starving and killing if it meant that his life could continue on. He has only lived for himself and only cared for himself, so why should he care about others? Because he is smart enough to know he will not live long by himself. He knows that one simple injury in the battle of life and death could be end game for him. If he wants to live he needs to be able to have others in his life that could help support and care for him if needed. Sacrifice themselves for him in his stead if needed. In return he would give his talents of clever thought and tactic to those who need it. He knows his worth in the swiftness in his feet, the moments he takes to think before he speaks, his quick decision making he needs if it mean life or death to himself or others, and no hesitation on taking a life as a sacrifice in this wild game of survival. So in truth no he is not regal, he was not born of high blood status and knows others of pure blood would be considered greater, however he is better because he could easily beat them. He knows the rules being born of dirt, having the scars of being a fighter, and having the blood on his paws of being a survivor. No one of high status could get their paws dirty like he has. He will do whatever it takes so do not get in his way.


There are only two places, first place and no place. Everyone remembers the first nemesis of Primal Instinct, but what about the second? The third? Everyone remembers the first, but only the second remembers the second. Bermondsey, the second born of Severine E'tani's second litter, could attest to that. A thin grey tom with almost feminine features, and a wide-eyed bright green gaze, he doesn't really look all too dangerous. He's tall, yes, but too willowy to be much of a powerhouse. He's not much of a flirt like his father either, and not necessarily handsome enough to break hearts at ease. The androgynous look doesn't always suit everyone after all. However, much like his father Alistair before he went mad, he prizes the gifts of his mind rather than his athletic prowess. Rather stern and aloof most of the time, he compartmentalizes his feelings rather well, separating emotions from his own sense of twisted logic. He doesn't form too many attachments. He has a knack for being rather blunt and to the point, rarely disguising or flowering his words to make them nicer or more socially appropriate. He often enjoys employing sarcastic quips and little teasing smirks as well, something he inherited from his father. Being second made him rather unimportant in the family hierarchy, but for him, it's both a blessing and a curse. He learned to slip through the cracks, to listen, and to not be seen. However, don't count him out of the race. The small grey tom might not seem dangerous, but you better not judge this book by its cover.



Atall, long-legged she-cat with dusty white fur, mousy grey-brown Siamese markings, and wide, manic, dark blue eyes. She was born in the League to a father who resented her from the moment she first drew breath, blaming her for her mother dying in childbirth and the rest of her litter being still-born. Her early life, though treated with the prestige and cold privilege of having been born to a good family, was a lonely, tortured thing for the simple crime of having been born at all. It left her with a desperate ache for the mother she never knew; a circus queen, a silver screen diva, a party animal alive in screaming colour, getting high and chasing tail, deep down she was just a girl without a mother. When she was nine moons old, already the finest torturer the League had ever seen, she murdered her father and his newest litter; she only spared one of the kits, her half-brother Lorah who she raised somewhere between a faux mother, a big sister, and someone who wanted nothing to do with him, though she secretly cared for him deeply and was plagued by guilt for how she brought him up. It inevitably left him unhinged and with a deep, obsessive attachment to his sister. As a torturer in the Punishment District, shortly after meeting the loner and new Shaman who would eventually become Funk E'tan and her mate, she was promoted against her will to Foreign Affairs Proxy at almost the same time Funk was thrust into the role of Nemesis; they ascended together and were as close as soulmates, king and queen, a pair made in Hell. It’s difficult to tell whether she was quietly good at her paper-pushing job - or just genuinely did no work at all, just using the position she’d never wanted as an excuse to lounge in her marble suite. Then, one morning, heavily pregnant with Funk's kits, she was exploring on the glass roof of the Mansion and fell. She died; two years later, but a split second for her, she gasped back to life. Her kits had died inside her; her best friend - her mate - had grieved and moved on, becoming someone she hardly recognised; the League had left the Mansion; everything was gone. Broken and grieving and lost, she fled to DayClan to be with her best friends, Lucistic and Innocentia, the only remnants of the life she’d once had. But she was always a League cat at heart, and though she holds a deep, almost reverent love for DayClan for taking her in, she spends most of her time beyond their borders, hanging around League territory and befriending Bermondsey - they're a pair no one can puzzle out, not even themselves, though he tries desperately to insist she’s an annoying burden and she spends most of their time together bullying him. When Regulus E’tan offered her the position of Internal Affairs Proxy, despite her animosity towards him for what she saw as usurpation of Funk’s rightful role, she couldn’t say no - and it meant she finally got the District she’d been born in and that she’d always wanted, Punishment. At the end of the day, all she wants is to love and be loved. She lives a double life in DayClan as the maverick Carriondare.



Her fur has captured the appearance and mien of smoke itself, its tendrils moving and curling as if in an unfelt wind. The sands of innocence were corrupted in her long ago, though a prismatic fire has preserved itself in her soul. Eyes, blue glass that shines beneath a canopy of black lashes. Her tear blood runs through twin peaks of cheekbones. A slender pillar of a neck – magnet of eroticism, blinding the veins gorging on flesh, dancing under pulse of blood – or whatever strange liquid flows inside. Her voice is as sweet as birdsong, projecting words as sharp as a whip.



The least known sister of the litter, but the most eccentric and mysterious. Cats are attracted to her like moths to a flame, though most never seem to be able to remember from day to day, forgetting her existence entirely once she's out of sight. And that's exactly how she wants it. Silvery-white, with enchanting lines written across her face, framing around beautiful, soft periwinkle eyes, she is a beautiful feline, and yet, no matter what seems to happen, she slips the mind of all who know her, coming and going like misty mornings, a face to be seen, but not recognized. And that is what makes her ideal for her job. She could stand in plain sight, and no one would be any wiser to her presence, continuing on as if she were a mere ghost. She sees this as some sort of power of hers, bestowed by the same underworld creatures who sent Senescence, whom she believes to be a demon, to save her and her siblings from their mother. It is largely for this reason that she does not fear the ghosts, the crypt demon, or any mortal being. Agamede has seen the truly terrifying, the beasts that are allowed to freely roam the world, and it helped her. So what has she to fear from anyone else?



"The fear of death follows from the fear of life. A man who lives fully is prepared to die at any time." - Mark Twain.

They say the world isn't black nor white, but various shades of gray. For Athalia that isn’t entirely true for her world is a stark white canvas interrupted by the vast array of color that makes up life. Athalia spent most of her life on the outside looking in, not because she is blind but because she isn’t. At least not fully. However, talk about ‘auras’ was never something others were willing to hear so after a time she stopped, instead choosing to embrace her role as the outcast. Now when cats look at her and see only her milky violet eyes. Eyes that seemingly see nothing yet look as though they are staring into your very soul, and they are afraid. Few cats are often brave enough to look past her unsettling appearance and get to know the sweet, soft hearted soul that she really is. Despite her seemingly lonely existence Athalia has managed to stumble her way through life just fine, for no one is ever truly alone. This is a lesson that like most, Athalia had to learn the hard way. The first time she saw him could have been a dream. Gripped tightly by a fever that showed no signs of breaking, lying in her nest she saw him. Nothing more than a hazy silhouette against an otherwise white void. In that moment she knew death had come to claim her, and she was willing. Yet the shadow never stepped beyond the entrance, she watched him for what felt like an eternity until sleep claimed her instead. When she awoke again he was gone. From that day forward there has always been an unexplainable pep in her step. Still usually quiet she has no issues speaking her mind and making herself heard when she needs to. She is gentle and kind but won’t go out of her way to help others unless they specifically ask for it, though she’s the last cat anyone wants to ask for help. She talks of death the way most would talk about an old friend only, further cementing her strange-off putting nature. Not that she minds in the slightest, she likes being seen as odd and gets small delights in startling others. Not that she’d ever admit it with more than the slightest of smiles. The eternal optimist but only on the inside, Athalia always has hope that each day will be better than the day before, rather than dwelling on the past.


Logician [n] : An expert in or student of logic, or reasoning that has been scruitinized and determined valid and rational. To a logician, the physical world has every answer you could ever need. It will give you every solution to every problem you find, if only you study and experiment enough. Charlotte is a logician, something that has been at odds with the very core of her family for a long time. You see, long ago, her bloodline was cursed. Every feline who descended from the lineage would suffer madness or destruction in some shape or another. It was a useful way to describe the madness that lurked under most of their skins, the ways in which so much destruction couldn't simply be coincidence, could it? The curse has been her crucifix, her cross to solve the great mystery of the curse. After all, a logician would not simply accept that magic caused their ruin. No validity test could prove that. As such, it has been Charlotte's mission to understand the curse, to medically intervene to prevent the descent into madness. In her quest for answers, she found psychiatry. The study of the mind, regulated carefully by chemicals that adapt moods. This became a fascination of hers; it was not a curse with its claws at her family's throat; it was a mental illness, one she would study and learn as much about as possible, often through strange experimentations on other cats with similar symptoms. These experiments were not always moral, and they left in her wake a pile of bodies that she will never be able to outrun. They were for a cause though: to save the cats she loves. You see, at the core of the feline is a savior complex, one that drives almost everything she does. However, perhaps that's getting a little ahead. After all, the Charlotte of today did not appear out of a vaccuum, nor should it be a surprise that she ended up this way. To fully understand Charlotte's past, it is first important to understand her parents. Safiya and Avi, young and in love, stars never meant to be in the same sky. Safiya, daugter of Severine E'tani, the Nemesis, and Alistair, the Warden. Beautiful Safi, a sweet soul who was born of the blood of kings. Avi, a tom known by no one, who once lived in an actual dumpster. A queen and a peasant, from two different worlds. Out of the collide of worlds came a litter of kittens, born when Safiya was far too young to be a mother. Avi and Safi, after all, were only trainees. Yet, the love they had for their kittens was divine; despite their own youth, the family was strong and loving. There were four in the litter: Avery, Fitzrovia, Louisa and herself. They were happy children; they loved each other and their life was relatively drama free, apart from an accident that left her partially blind, at least until their father's execution. You see, despite Safi and Avi falling deeply in love, the queen's family was not impressed with the suitor being born of low-blood. Avi was killed by her uncle, Daireanne, under the supposed order of her grandmother. Grief consumed her mother, and blood continued to reign from the family as Safiya murdered her mother in an act of desperate revenge for her fallen beloved. Too soon after, Safiya realized it would never be safe for her in Primal Instinct, and the she-cat elected to leave herself. By this time, her kits were old enough to survive alone, and they became even more inseparable. This was particularly true of Charlotte and her sister, Louisa. The two were as thick as thieves; there was seldom a time where one was more than a few steps from the other. This meant that when Louisa began to show symptoms of the curse, Charlotte was the first one to know. A gentle soul, Charlotte did everything in her power to save her sister, the origins of the savior complex that would grow to be her own ruins. Yet, it was not enough. Nothing she could do was enough, and her sister faded before her eyes into an untimely death. Filled with shame and guilt that there was nothing that she could do to prevent her sister's demise, Charlotte fled the League in search of answers. She needed to know how she could have saved Louisa. She needed to know how she could save anyone else. It was this period of time that hardened her; she had 'seen' firsthand the cruelty of the world, and it morphed her from sweet, innocent child to a more steely, guarded adult, one that asks questions of every thing. She feels that she must learn it all; this desire for education is a compulsion. After all, she didn't know the answer to how to fix things once, and it led to her best friend's death. She will never let that happen again. However, it is important to understand that Charlotte's savior complex is not extended universally. She sees value in some cats, and those cats she feels are worthy of being saved. Those are the cats that she will lay down her life for, that she will do anything in her power to save. She has witnessed so much loss of cats she believes should have been saved, and as such, if you meet her expectations, you will have her resolute and unending loyalty. A cat like Charlotte is not the worst to have on your side, either, as her determination to solve every problem combined with her more than astute mind makes her a mental power player, one who will walk to the ends of the earth to ensure you are okay. Anyone else, in her mind, is expendable. It is unclear where the division of worthy and unworthy lies, although it is that division that has cost the lives of many. You see, if you are unlucky enough to be considered less than desirable to the she-cat, you will suffer the same fate as her father, the tom who her family first decided was undesirable. She has long stopped counting the number of cats who did not survive her experimentation; the lives burnt to ash under her paws were those of cats who did not matter enough to survive. To them, she almost considers her actions favors; after all, she is saving them from an existence of mediocrity and disappointment. Because her thinking is rather black-and-white, she ensures that she has a logical reasoning behind every cat she finds expendable, although this logic is shared with few. On the surface, though, she is a ... decent enough cat. More jaded than your average cat, maybe, but not outwardly cruel. In fact, if you catch her in a good mood, hints of the young, energetic, kind child she once was can push through the cracks and make an appearance. Forever dedicated to her work, Charlotte appreciates the company of anyone who is willing to question the world with her. She enjoys a challenge, or really anything that allows her to avoid the fact that burbling beneath her skin, she can slowly feel the madness start to take in.


The first thing most cats notice about Reynardine is her eyes. Each of them is split down the middle, half blue and half green. The rest of her mid-sized frame is covered in stark white fur, with pale ears and a pale pink nose. There isn't much else to notice about her at first- she seems to listen more than speak, take in more than let out. Reynardine has been in the League for some time, though most cats know nothing about her or her past, as she tends to hold that information close to her chest. Still, this ghostly feline seems to know things others don't- perhaps it's divine knowledge, perhaps it's her tendency to overhear information and store it away for future use. For a cat in Primal Instinct, she's oddly mild-mannered- slow to react or be riled up. Oftentimes she can seem eerie or otherworldly, and her split eyes can make grown cats sweat out their secrets.




a small group of cats chosen from the hunters. they train under the assassin, the warden and sometimes the proxies in assassination and defending the nemesis. the next assassin is chosen from their ranks, and some other positions like to look to them for replacements as well

"For the wages of sin is death, my son," his father'd said, and when the senior peered into his junior's eyes, Cezra felt a fear of death for the very first time. He soon learned that there are far worse things than death. He endured beatings and abuse by day, and by nightfall his father would have sobered up enough to drag him down to their prayer pool, beside which his father would weep, all that was left of his legacy a bastard son. He couldn't stand to look at his son any longer, Cezra's mirthful eyes a hideous reminder of his mother's betrayal. It was because of those long, repentant nights staring into that pool, apologizing to his fractured reflection--a sinful, disgraceful reflection, his father'd said--for his involuntary existence, that Cezra can no longer stand the sight of himself. He is sin disguised in tabbied fur and mirthless eyes, honoring nothing but his sacrilegious soul. The wages for sin is death, but now he knows: There are far worse things than dying.

"I can live neither with you, nor without you." His pelt is every much as an enigma as him, from thick to thin markings, from solid contrast to fading soft blends and amber eyes so dark and red, you could swear it rivaled the color of sticky pooling blood that had been spilled and untouched for hours. You are just curiously wandering when you feel a funny feeling and go over to shrub and just as you peak through the vegetation- Boo. It is spoken in the most calmest voice it someone how manages to scare even you as you jump back. This lone kit shows no fear and it is then decided the kit known simply as Uta, would be taken back to join the group known as Primal Instinct. It's a wonder how this mischievous maker got to PI territory, but now that's he's here everyone is stuck with him. He speaks very polity in a gentle kind voice but watch out- because the next moment you will probably fall prey to one of his little pranks. No one could ever guess these harmless pranks were ever more than that- but no one- not even his favorite friends be it Touka or Yomo would see the manipulative, truly sadistic and savage side of him for so long. Despite being about middle-aged he still looks way younger than this, part of it must be good genes, another part must of his been his frequent free travels in DayClan for it's beauty in land and anyone willing to be his muse. One of the closest territories, allowing travelers and inspiration - testing the waters with them constantly, never giving them fully a reason to chase him out but never seeming to go away was another form or entertainment and existing to be a nuisance for others. He lives for creating chaos and destruction, fascinated with thrills of being alive and the unpredictable nature of cats and the wonders of how a cat changes because of a single moment and to see it happen. . . Sadistic and savage from his violent upbringing believing in no love of the cold void of a world they live in reduced to fueling it with in chaos because he's already unfazed by most things, even holding exotic aesthetics of ill yet masterful tastes of high regard so why not keep it interesting? Killing regardless or whether it was deserved, some just for fun - for the thrill of it. Yet still under all that horror having genuine concern for his select few - not everything is purely out of his own benefit if it meant he can help those close to him as well or keep them safe. To bad for his kits that didn't really include them. Most of his offspring come from flings with lack of knowledge of their existence until they seek him out, at least he tells them the handful of names of their would-be step mothers to find or know of their other siblings for their own benefit but otherwise if they've made to adulthood their not his responsibility anymore and leaves apathetic to their existence. Adelaide's litter, originally the only one in PI he might never would've talked at all if it wasn't for the fact he was genuinely concerned Adelaide has no desire to raise them or be attached at all - funny how it's fine for him to be that way and such audacious game-changer when the mother isn't. Tbf Uta couldn't grow an udder and nurse them himself even if he wanted to, but he still absolutely 90% neglected and emotional abandoned them. So how exactly did his newest litter come to be? Funny story, Accalia adored the tom that treated her so normally and he was fascinated with her unique look, she was an artwork and masterpiece, he gave her the spotlight and feelings of acceptance. He on the other hand, madness and all with a shrinking friend circle, an obsession with a lost love and the closes to him Accalia - his constant. There for it all and if the world should end she very well might still be there by his side and it's lonely on the edges. . . She's the last one left, how cruel of life to have him actually care for her, actually scared for her, addicted to her friendship filling the empty void that without her might just make him finally give up. But that fear, that distress, it makes him smile to feel a thrill again, anything again. Naturally always around each other, gave the kits the luck of actually seeing their father, even if he's really only there for their mother. Just excited little furbabies going 'daddy!' and he just slowly paws them to the side or back to their mother like 'who are you, why are you calling me that- oh wait yeah'. He might bring them something shiny or a skull to play with, that's what all the parents bring right? Perhaps some fertility issues delayed the newest kits arrival but they're the ones that got through. He only exists in their life by chance and they don't realize that or don't care, who knows? Maybe if the she-cat and fuzzballs pressure him enough to act like a dad he might just become one. Accalia's pent up anger and creativity with any revenge she wanted and Uta's thrills and 'artworks' are just their favorite little bedtime stories. They're not that bad, they even look like Accalia so maybe all the keeping his distance, keeping all of them safe from his savage group, safe from him and his enemies act was going about it the wrong way this whole time. Still, recently he just can't help but feel despair without Yomo it's just so maddening. And yet, indulging in manipulating in the world's events and hedonistic slaughter to gain a sense of being "alive" - he wouldn't possibly keep doing that around the kits now would he . . . ? Something's gotta change, before something or someone breaks.


12+ Moon Old Cats. They are each assigned or join a district and serve under that proxy. Each district specializes in different things. There are no elders in Primal Instinct, so you will stay in this division until you get a promotion or you die.

A black lykoi she cat with golden amber eyes that stare into the soul. Accalia was always unusual in more than one way. To start with the obvious she was born a mutant: a cat unlike most. A werewolf...a monstrosity. With very little hair but what hair she does has looks sparse and course, but it is actually surprisingly soft. Second off she is unlike most other Primal Instinct cats in the way she is herself. Kind, loving, brave and not about herself. She did however have a small temper that, when sparked in just the right way would cause her to seek revenge even in the smallest of manners. In these ways others backed away from this foreign cat afraid to catch what she had. For being a freak. As luck would have it there was one cat that looked past it all and saw her for who she was. Uta. He came in seeing the true beauty she was and gave her a chance. Was unafraid of talking to her or be near her. She grew to love him, looking up in awe of who he was. She saw past all of his flaws...mistakes. She didn't care about anything else. He was the first one to show any interest in her and with that she remained a loyal cat to him. Together they had two younglings: Tarn and Alulla-Nova. The she cat loves her family dearly and would kill to protect them.

A bright white tomcat with midnight blue eyes. Arrogant and showy, he is quite clearly a tom with more attitude than skill, always willing to show off and do daring stunts, usually with a high degree of failure. And yet, he always seems to make it out unscathed, much to his groupmates' dismay. He is incredibly agile and witty, but often tries to force himself into situations that he is not meant for, such as fighting large predators, or pushing himself beyond exhaustion, all the while boasting his skill in those areas. Despite this, he is incredibly family oriented, and absolutely adores younglings. He hopes for a family one day, and most hope it mellows out his wild side.

The shield. A name more befitting of someone with a larger stature, one meant to impose fear and intimidate. With just a single glance, it seems that this cat was completely misnamed. Rather small in size, Aegis is not the typical towering figure that anyone would expect from one named after a shield, nor does she carry the bulk. As a rather petite, mostly orange and black calico, she is easily overlooked. Don’t be fooled, however, as there is muscle hidden within this small frame. What she lacks in her stature, she makes up for in other ways. Quick in both movement and mind, she can deliver powerful blows in the blink of an eye, while studying her opponent to decide just where the hit should make contact. She may not be the best at overall strategy, but thinking on her feet with split-second decisions is where her talents lie. If you were to meet her piercing yellow gaze, you could tell that this is a she-cat that you should be wary of. Aegis strives to live up to her name, and if she can’t match it in appearance, then she will do her best to be a protector. If the scars buried within her pelt are anything to go by, she’s taken attacks meant for her League mates more than once. While her trust is something that isn’t handed out often, she would still do anything for the cats of Primal Instinct. Her own fate and body doesn’t matter, and although she would rather not sacrifice herself and find an alternative route to save someone, if it came down to it, she would still do it. Her methods tend to be rather reckless at times, as if she was acting more on impulse than her quick mind, and perhaps she is. Still, she gets the job done. Don’t misunderstand her protectiveness as kindness, as she is still a cat of Primal Instinct, after all. She has been through much in her never-ending fight for survival, with many events shaping and hardening her heart. There is a reason why her trust doesn’t come naturally, but if anyone dared to break through to her, they would find a completely different cat on the inside.

Black panther like pelt with a snow leopard print from her chest fluffing up to her shoulders like a big fur scarf. She has gorgeous frosted green eyes like her mother. She looks even more like her sister Monique. They could each commit a crime, but no one would know which one did it. Despite the beautifully sleek fur and lean, toned body that just screams royalty, Alexandria is a rare breed who seems to fade into the background with nothing more than a secretive smile, only for a cat to wind up dead. Subtle are her methods, sneaking and poison, her Shaman blood sparking curiosity in things more than the ways of claws and tongue. She, more than many others, is not the cat to cross. No, she won't confront you directly, humiliate you in front of your peers, but she will slowly leech the life from you and your loved ones, forcing you to watch everything fall around you before you yourself succumb to the void, only to disappear without a trace, not even allowing such satisfaction as knowing your killer will be brought to light. Quiet, relatively respectful, and seemingly obedient, Alexandria may seem a touch out of place among the rough characters she grew up with, but inside, there's that same, endless darkness just waiting to be unleashed on the world.

Look man I'll get you a better bio in like a few days. But it late and I am tired. Alio is a silver somali cat with dark brown eyes. Flirty. Big dommy mommy energy. Bad with authority but they make it work. Has big witch cat vibes.

A charcoal grey tom with bright yellow eyes and a lanky frame. What he lacks in physical prowess, he makes up for in wit. Amaru is a smooth talker and can persuade almost anyone with his charm. Some despise him, most find him incredibly annoying. Either way, Amaru couldn’t care less about what other cats think of him. It’s hard to know if he’s genuine, even he doesn’t know most of the time. The tom is very close with his sister, Juno. The two are polar opposites but family is important to the both of them. He’s a jokester and would rather spit out one liners than to have real and deep connections with other cats. Amaru is not a dependable friend or a close ally, he is the cat to call for a quick and dirty mission. He does his job and that’s it. Emotions are not at play with him because he doesn’t allow them to nestle their way into his heart and mind. It’s a lonely life, but it’s one where he can guarantee no heartbreak and no ulterior motives with his loyalty in the League. The only cat that could ever sway him is his sister, Juno.

Blue grey fur with a single blind eye that shines like a aurora borealis. She has scars that dig deep into her flesh that are sprawled through her pelt, but especially her face. She doesn't speak much and is largely kept locked down tight by Daviella and Fabian.

Just when they thought that Katie's line was gone, somehow she always works her way back into Primal Instinct, even if it is simply her children. It was laughable, almost, whenever Bellamy heard the rumors that her children were dead. Of course, this arrogant tom had to come back and prove them wrong. So the black and white tuxedo tom made his way back to Primal Instinct, his sharp green eyes filled with a dark desire. It was time for him to wreck havoc on them once more. It would be advisable to stay out of his way.

A cream non-binary cat with light gray spots and ocean blue eyes. They love to go on adventures and will force their league mates to join them no matter how dangerous they can be. They are very friendly and warm up to strangers easily. But one can be easily fool by their friendly nature, because they will break your arm if you ask them a dumb questios. They get rather annoyed when others shorten their name to Blush and correctly them quickly that its BLUSHING! They have a weird obsession of wanting to hear funk sing so they constantly pester him about it.

She has frost blue eyes and ice blond fur with misty peach markings along her ringed tail, face, ears, and ankles. Daviella is extremely talented when it comes to hunting whether that's prey or people. She claims to have come from beyond the clans.

Has a brown body with a golden face, ear, legs, and tail with bluebell colored eyes. Delgado is very serious, he has an easy time criticizing others for their shortcomings because he is as harsh on them as he is to himself. Delgado doesn’t take failure well to the point that he doesn’t like to try new things, he enjoys sticking with what he already knows. Since the moment he was able to become a trainee all he’s known is how to hunt and kill for Innocentia, it’s what he sticks with to the point that he chose punishment district even though he’s not very fond of Innocentia and her childish nature. But once again, torment, killing, hunting, it’s what he knows, he didn’t want to stray far from it. Delgado is the gentlemen of his family and keeps up his good manners even towards prisoners. This does not stop him from doing his job to torment them though, in fact he is often quite lethal, but it won’t stop him from apologizing for the discomfort. His polite tone makes it easy for him to be alluring one moment and frightening the next thanks to his killer instincts.

The palest cream-white color cloaks her snow lynx bengal frame, ethereal and alluring, glittered fur shimmering like snow on a moonlit winter night. Vaguely darker spots the color of light sepia splash across her fur, turned to bronze by the light catching nature of her fur that persists even in the most complete darkness. Her eyes, in contrast, are dark and mysterious, midnight blue frosted at their core and cracked through with pale silver like broken black ice. She is a vamp sort of cat, with fangs just a touch too long, with a snake earring coiled down one of her ears and an attitude that turns toms and she-cat's alike to putty in her silk touched paws. She is wild and free like a song, full of intoxicating thrill that is sure to get your blood pumping, and a heart colder than anything you've ever seen. Unabashedly confident, and blatantly flirtatious, she drags cats in before they ever truly know they've fallen. She is beauty, she is grace, and she is the first cat who will leave you lying dead in a ditch, the transition so quick it would make your head spin. Every cat she has is her true love, and every death is love forgotten, for they fall hard and fast for her, yet she couldn't care less. It bothers her some, to be incapable of feeling romantic love in that way, at least thus far in her life. Like something is missing. But it's a thought fleeting and kept to herself, filled with flings and dance and death in it's place.

She has been fascinated with the rules of life, how she could break and remake and test the limits of this utterly and completely natural, unstoppable thing. Passion mixed with stupidity is often a dangerous thing, and when you throw a dash of obsessiveness and the very definition of insanity in there, well you've got Eris. She's a thinker, but often her thoughts aren't in the right place. A simple brown tabby a little on the smaller side, her accidental charm mixed with a doll-face and an infectious smile makes her difficult to say no too. She's social, but not because she wants to meet friends, but because they are nothing but tools to further her research. Nothing she does is actually successful--no matter how good she got at taking apart and putting back together small animals, they never seemed to come back. She is almost creepily optimistic, a constant "glass-half-full" type of gal, she is always thinking of ways to make things better, make things work, and is constantly coming up with new solutions to her problems that may or may not work. She's adventurous, fearless especially in the things she does, but prefers to not get her paws dirty. She isn't one to do the killing, more the one to keep the body hidden for later research. Besides her strange obsession with the dead and undead alike, she likes to look at the smaller puzzles under life. She likes just observing the things around her, exploring secrets and learning everything she possibly could. She often accidentally finds trouble, but always has a way to worm herself out of it mostly unscathed.

Albino she-cat with lavender eyes. She would openly fight you regardless if the other cat is much larger. While she would willing to fights other she can get anxious in social situations so tends to avoid them. She can be forgiving to others no matter how much they mess up. She is allergic to catmint a discovery she uncovered when she was a lot younger. She is very nerdy and can name of random facts about a wides range of subjects. She often suffers from colds and cures it with her favorite snack of mac and cheese. Which she finds in Twoleg dumpsters.

Blazing autumn colored fur decorates his body with a toasted cream underbelly, chest, and chin. Fabian has dark brown eyes with an amber center. He is extremely talented when it comes to hunting whether that's prey or people. She claims to have come from beyond the clans.

An orange tabby cat that has white across his muzzle, throat, chest and stomach with dark orange eyes. The tom doesn't try to find trouble but trouble tends to find him instead, and it doesn't help that he has a sharp tongue and a fiery temper too. Alone in this world he was the only surviving kit born to his parents who would later be killed protecting their young one from savage dogs. It's hard to say what he is thinking most of the time but usually tries to do the best he can in any situation he is put in. Perhaps it is because he was left alone in the world but when he makes a relationship with a cat (may it be friend or mate) he is extremely protective and loyal to them, even going as far as taking on bigger foes and backing them up in situations (even if they were wrong about something.) Simply put you would rather be his friend than his foe, for if he has to he will put you down.

Bloodlines forgotten and lost to time. The blood of clans that have fallen and faded away like dust on the breeze. The frosted blue gaze shifting from the darkness of the sea to the light of a glacier. In the center fading in a pale copper ring near her pupil. A pale pink heart shaped nose is one of her defining features on her feminine pointed face. Her face, body, limbs and long tail are decorated in shaggy fur giving her the appearance of a battle worn soldier. Her fur is ice dipped in fiery swirls. Faded ginger marking on her face and limbs looking like war paint. Her frame is slender, tall standing upon long legs like the Savannah blood of the Crowclan Leaders that hum through her heritage. She is the last remaining descendant of Metra E’tani the founder of Primal Instinct. A fact that isn’t well known and one that she keeps mainly to herself. Along with her grandmother Metra, the blood of many great Nemesis roar through her veins. Many of her relatives have held high ranking officials within the League holding Shaman, Mage, Warden,Deacon, Proxy, and Assassin Positions. She was born in the League to a single mother. Her father had died before she was born. Her time in the League was short lived, because she was forced to grow up as a rogue most of her young adult life. Being a rogue taught her many lessons. How to become a nameless face that could disappear in the night. It also taught her how to be a survivor. How to play the game of life to ensure her survival. Something she has been running from since her birthday. The death of her siblings, parents and many family members weigh on her shoulders. She is the fiery shadow that walks the empty alleyways. Demanding respect from rogues that’s question her and the ones that she took in as small kittens. Giving them a life and a way to survive. She is an actor and her life is the stage. She takes pride in her performance and will put on as many masks to manipulate others to ensure her survival. She is selfish and doesn’t seem to care about others unless it is for her own personal gain. The only ones that seem to steal her heart are her precious hounds. Young kittens she snatched out of their beds and away from their mothers. Ones hand chosen by her and hand raised by her in an abandoned junkyard. She is the master of these many hounds. Convincing them to go her bidding and in turn she gives them an equal reward. A home, food, a life worth living then their horrid backstories.

The firstborn child, Ghrian was born optimistic and warm. He was natural leader, even as a child. Often taking charge of his siblings while their parents were away. Its hard to not like Ghrian, with his natural charisma and easy going attitude. He has a natural knack for healing, picking up on things even though he hasn't had any formal training to do so, but not just physical wounds. He always seems to know just what words to say, to help others heal. His pelt is bright orange, only broken by a dash of white on is nose and the the shadoded stripes that wind their way around his body.

"Hide your soul out of reach," his mother would speak kindly, looking at his wide blue eyes, brushing her tongue over his tussled silver fur, "for the Sluagh will steal you away." Growing up hungry changes someone. He had been an older litter than his sister Rhiannon; her gilded idea of their childhood was not shared by him. Their mother was sickly, their father was aggressive. He was a cat who did everything a little too quickly. He grew up too fast, he learned the tricks of the trade as soon as he could, he had a natural gift for hunting and fighting. It helped him; he wouldn't have made it on his own after leaving their home so young, and with his sister in tow. His past has clouded his eyes and buried his heart; he wears a jaded smile and has little care for the world. While his sister seeks immortality in her own rigid way, he's more laid-back, amused by his sister's antics, though he will do anything for her. One thing he knows is that the nature of the universe is temporal; it's entropy and chaos all wrapped into one, and change is the only thing that's constant. Despite his easy smirk and kind nature, when it comes to things that matter, he's extremely protective. He has little care for most of the world, and he will willingly set it on fire and watch it burn before letting it take away those he loves.

A silver grey she-cat with icy blue eyes and a sturdy, athletic build. She is the opposite of her brother, Amaru. She is quiet and calculating. Her mind is completely focused on the League. Juno is intelligent and precise in her battle. She is a skilled fighter and will slice a cat’s throat without hesitation. She is so deeply loyal and cares so much for the cats in the league that she is reckless with her life at times. Juno will happily sacrifice her life for any old member. She is friendly but shy and awkward in most social situations. She craves approval and praise and that fact drives her. Her brother berates her for her blind impulses but is always there to save her when she needs it.

The only thing one can be certain about Mimic is there is no certainty at all. They are a mystery, from looks to personality, to just about everything. Even their name was given to them purely based upon their actions. Mastering the art of becoming another, at times it's nigh impossible to tell them apart from whoever they've become. Painting their fur to change it's color, accenting multicolored eyes to make the right colors pop, they are a pro at disguising themselves. And they'd have it no other way. After all, what's the fun in life if you don't keep people guessing?

RPED BY DOT || Internal Affairs
A picture of elegance and class. Picture perfect short sleek ivory fur. Grey and brown tabby markings adding personality to his evening coat. His indigo colored eyes are a trademark that link him to the powerful lineage of Indy. Being the son of the Nemesis he had a reputation to uphold. He became a great actor as he grew up. Learning to be kind to the important ones. He is rude to the lesser ones on the pecking order. Not afraid to speak his mind and having no filter. His mouth can sometimes get him in trouble with the wrong crowd. He grew up believing Micah was his father. He respected and looked up to the tom for guidance. His siblings are Quarel, Indigo, Sonnet, and Doree.

Large yellow tom with white chest and belly and green eyes. He has a fear of falling in love again, because every single serious relationship he's been in has failed. Rather lazy tom who can sleep through almost anything. Has a random fear of fire even though he has never seen any. Unable to have his own children, but wishes to adopt a whole army of kittens.

A chameleon who made a deal with the devil that led to a transformation that brought her to Primal Instinct. She'd tell you it was all by chance that the winds of transformation brought her sister and her to the League, but she'd only tell you that because she likes to tell cats what they like to hear. This amuses her, as her personality shape-shifting allows her to enter the minds of those around her, metaphorically speaking. She makes you want to do things, things you wouldn't have otherwise even thought of. She's inspires you to change, for better or for worse, to meet her needs. In that way, she is almost hypnotic. She can bend others to her will, and she knows how to get what she pleases without keeping her own claws sharp. Smart cats that know whats best for them tend to avoid her. They are wise enough to break free of her enchantment. She finds these cats boring, but the shifty feline cannot have it all, can she? Luckily for her, she lives in a world of fools, and more cats than not step just a little too close to the fire of transformation that is Niamh. A chaotic type, she always has her paws in the pot, but she'll never be found in the kitchen the moment the floodwaters come. Niamh is the sister to Verne, and the only feline that truly understands the amber eyed calico is the other feline who shared her origin story. She would die for her sister, which leaves her always at Verne's beck and call. Some days, this is a good thing. Others, well, let's just say Niamh's love of chaos pairs nicely with her sister's unique charm.

'Neo-tell-us' it didn't not take long for his name to become a inside joke where any of his siblings would use his name as a play on words as his name sounds like someone asking 'Neo, tell us'. When he attempts to explain or speak there always someone who says "Yes, Neo-tell -us all about ..." His didn't even leave kittenhood before he became sick of that joke. If his name sounds made up then you'd be completely right - it was made up and his name is the combination of 'Neo' and 'telos' literally Greek meaning 'new end'. Well where to being with this mini enigma? For starters, he likes collecting bones. Any kind of bones, for they are the only thing that 'survives' death. Some bones even seem to be too big to be from a bird or any 'normal' kind of prey but he insists everything he finds are just the poor remains left exposed to the harsh elements, re-purposed by him to be visual decor of his nest. His own personal goal is to one day find a cat skull and add on to his collection, probably until someone gets sick of his hoarding and tell him to get rid of it all but he's likely to only listen to the Nemesis. He has a 'tame' obsession with death and could begin a conversation on how death is purifying and invincible, and so on. Not everything he does revolves around the concept of death, he will however, advocate how misunderstood it is and death is nothing to fear, yet even he is not so eager to be 'terminated' either. Death is merely one of many changes, just more permanent and signal no turning back. The ending to one story, can pick off as the beginning of the next. It isn't necessarily so literal either, as it often brings renewal, a time of significant transformation, change and transition. Death is merely a teacher to let go, and to move forward, to break away from harm and go across into the positive frontier. Neotelos is the connoisseur of the inner mind, he has a pretty clear view of how things works and is fascinated with the things he doesn't understand like any type of mental abnormalities as simple as OCD. Neotelos has a knack for picking up on other cats's "auras" and while he doesn't mean to be rude, he can't ignore a sad soul and will places himself in other people's business with the intention to give them the push forward they need, but he isn't enough then he shall leave them to wallow and pull themselves out of despair. Neotelos is selfless, he has a heart, but he keeps it as detached as possible, perhaps influenced by being brought into the world in such a mess of a 'family' considering both parents want nothing to do with any of them and have no intention of actually having to raise them. This 'family' deteriorated before it even had a chance. Neotelos likes to think he's pretty sane and well-rounded compared to other PI cats and the most mature, stoic, neat, and even a little proper. He even occasionally tries to make an effort to make them more . . . 'family-like' but mostly in vain. His relationship with his father is as distance as expected, they never would've talked at all if it wasn't for the fact he was genuinely concerned Adelaide has no desire to raise them or be attached at all - funny how it's fine for him to be that way and such a game-changer when the mother isn't. Perhaps this is all the start of a new beginning? Their talk is small and seem more of acquaintances than father-son. His connection with his mother is much more complex and strained. Neotelos is one of 27cats based on the Tarot cards; his card is Death. His parents are Uta (of PI) and Adelaide (of PI). His littermates are Noose, Equilibrium, Bondage, and Crisis. (written by Shadowblade~Moss~sky)

While his littermate Neotelos is mature, neat, and proper. Noose is very much so his opposite. He joined his others siblings Equilibruim, Bondage, and Crisis in the mocking of their littermate's name Neotelos. It was actually Noose who started the "Neo-tell-us" joke amongst the littermates. He is a chaotic wild fire that will burn you if you get too close. He very much so suffers from commitment issues similar to his father Uta. While his struggles stay committed to almost every thing in his life he at the same time struggles to let things go after he finally commits. Leaving him to become a victimof his own personal struggles. His connection to his siblings is his dark brown tabby pelt. His connection to his father is his dark rich amber eyes.

A quiet beautiful bangal she cat with yellow green eyes she is quick on her feet like the natural hunter she is with the agility to match. An introvert the bangal tends to keep to herself, but can be social when needed. Even during social gatherings she doesn't talk much due to her embarrassing stutter (which she tries to keep secret.) Maybe it due to being quiet most of the time but Orion tends to be a good listener as well as observant to the environment around her. Just as in hunting she is equally ruthless when it comes to fighting and war, doing whatever it takes to win.

A patched tabby she-cat with bright copper eyes. If you had nightmares of impending doom, what would you do? Would you give up, succumbing to the painful visions, or would you rise up to change the future, to prevent what you see at all costs? Pandora is a strong cat, quick witted and merciless, but at night, she is plagued by never ending nightmares that target her deepest insecurities and worries. She dreams of Primal Instinct demise, of the death of everything and everyone she loves at the paws of some nameless cat or group, and always, she is powerless to stop it. So she trains and trains and trains to avoid it. If a cat is so weak that they can't save themselves, then they were never meant to be part of Primal Instinct.

There is perhaps no cat more self centered, or self-serving than Paramore. All her life she has been complimented on her stunning appearance which without a doubt has gone to her pretty little head, and warped her perception of life. Maybe at one point she had the potential to be deeper than she is but from an outside perspective that potential is long gone. This affluent she-cat now relies on the manipulation of others to handle all her dirty work for her. A notorious flirt, at this point she just can't help herself, complimenting others in hopes that she'll get what she wants just comes as second nature to her. However the most infuriating thing about her is her insatiable desire for all the things she can't have. More specifically the toms she can't have. They say everyone has a type, and hers just so happens to be toms that are already tied down.

From the moment he was born, he was marked for death. Reznor was given a white ribbon and told that his life would only last twenty moons. He would die when he became an adult, while his siblings would be able to live. How was that fair? Reznor knows he only has 20 moons to get rid of his white ribbon, and he isn't going to wait around for death. He's a social chameleon, able to play the part from the naïve young kittypet to the intimidating rogue, disguising his roots and doing whatever it takes to blend in. He wants to have flings and have as many kits as possible that he can then donate to Innocentia in his place. As long as it isn't him, he doesn't care! Reznor might carry himself with an intimidating attitude and a threatening glint in his eyes, but he is easily startled. Someone calling out his name unexpectedly, feeling tapped on the shoulder, he’s always ready to meet his end. He can feel it looming on the horizon, and he isn't prepared to face it. Reznor is a blue-grey tom with bright blue eyes, born to Mistyrose and Sparrowflight.

––that whoever believes shall not perish, but have eternal life," were the words that inspired Rhiannon from a young age. She had been born small, on the eve of Samhain. Only witches' cats were born on such a cursed day, the others from her hometown believed. Hailing from the land of druids and loch monsters, her looks reflect that, with the wide-set ears, silver eyes and dark markings upon her ruddy tabby face, almost similar to a Scottish wild cat, Rhiannon has traveled far. Her early days were spent as a village cat, an omen amongst those who believed in the philosopher's stone. It was a cozy life despite them begging for scraps. When her mother died an untimely death, her father turned against her, claiming she had been the omen of death that had wrought disaster upon them all. It was her brother that stole her away in the night lest their father's teeth grew hungry for blood. Practically raised by her brother, it's been the two of them against the world since, searching for what they believe is the source of immortality, as their village legend once told. Clever–conniving at times–she knows what she wants and she's willing to play the long game. After all, she intends to live forever, or she'll die trying, and she won't die for anything less than that.

A blue lynx point tomcat with gentle icy blue eyes. Careless and free, he is a cat of the shadow, one who would rob you blind and then turn around and try to sell your things back to you. Everything is a game, and he always has a plan, risks are nothing to him, and all he wants is to have fun and amass trinkets he finds beautiful. Unfortunately, cats aren't usually so kind as to just give him what he wants, so he usually resorts to stealing, especially from kittypets and their twolegs, the former usually not have the skills to fight back. As such, the tom very often can be found wearing various twoleg or kittypet items. A studded color or ruby ring, a bright purple scarf and little kitten mittens. Some cats make fun of him for it, or believe that eventually karma will come for him, but he doesn't really care. Instead he simply lives in the moment, enjoying the fruits of his labor and ignoring all consequences to come his way.

Black and white she cat with very unusual heterochromia eyes. Escaped from a testing lab facility being tested on by various medicine that could be used to help two legs. Has some health problems from it but is extremely clever. So clever, she was the reason Pandora was able to free everyone that escaped. Seeing how intelligent she was she was given the chance to join Primal Instinct. (Proper bio to come one day, maybe. xD)

Three legs, rebellion, and a will to live. Sora in an interesting addition to the league, and all kinds of trouble. Most often he tends towards malicious compliance, doing everything exactly as he's told to produce the worst possible result. Which has led to cats giving him very strict, specific instructions to try and get him to actually follow orders as they were intended. Of course, it would be much simpler for everyone if they just bribed the copper eyed blonde bengal with food. The tom loves to eat, and even claims to have killed and cannibalized his twin to see how cat tasted. If you actually want a way to his heart, good prey or twoleg delicacies is the way to do it. If you don't have that, then good luck.

Handsome, Regin, Sparrowflight, Jackdaw — he’s gone by so many names he doesn’t care what you call him, as long as it isn’t “Dad.” All he really wants is to relax with Misty Rose to sleep and eat the day away, but alas this prison is not as comfortable as the one he’s used to. He lost his sanity long ago, and with it went his good heart. He is not cruel or cold, and many cats can’t tell he’s different at all, other than his strange personality, but all of the potential of his youth was gone in an instant and it left him an entirely different cat. Sparrowflight is no longer optimistic or playful, isn’t determined to serve his clan or even particularly loyal; he’s got a grim sense of humor, is extremely laid back, and almost callous to the suffering of others. He doesn’t intend to hurt anyone else and is a poor, though scrappy, fighter; he doesn’t do harm to cats, he merely doesn’t care much about preventing it either. He used to be of SpringClan, son of the leader and apprentice of the deputy, until his audacity led him to Toxicity and Chief Ozora took it all from him. He was half-dead when WinterClan found him, held him prisoner until he forgot himself and his mind broke. Lovers cane and went until a guard fell into prison beside him and became his mate, then a healer, and he was dragged out of prison and given a home until they fled to SunClan under the names of Hottie and Handsome. When that clan started to fracture as well, they were caught and taken to the League. Sparrowflight tends to go with the flow of what Mistyrose wants and he's learned not to question her. It's better that way for the both of them.

Fluffy grey and white she cat with brilliant bright peridot colored eyes. This gal has always had luck on her side in one way or another. She was abandoned at birth but was found by a kindhearted stray who raised her as his own. Well kindhearted to her, anyone else he was ruthless and unforgiving, but she never saw that side to him. He taught her everything he knew and both lived together happily until he passed away in his sleep. Trish ventured out on her own living up to many adventures, escaping many unbelievable situations. Her biggest adventure came from a one night stand that lead to her becoming pregnant. Unsure of where to go she came across the then warden of Primal Instinct Regulus. Trish charmed Regulus with her personality and was convinced to join PI with her kits that would soon be on their way. Trish is a sassy feline who doesn't hold back with what she says. She does what she has to in order to survive even if it resorts to stealing and death. It's not that she isn't nice, on the contrary she is, but its a dog eat dog world out there where you got to do what you got to do in order to live to see the next day.

If fools run in where angels fear to tread, then Verne is the greatest fool of all. Reckless to a fault with a bravery few can match, she's constantly waiting for a 'dare you' to jump into the unknown. A scrappy little cat, her long furs carry the strange scent of a foreigner. This calico–with her ginger and tabby grey fur–came from the loch where Herne once hunted with her sister, Niamh. Before arriving here, she had lived many lives, from sailing the seas upon a ship to wandering the forests where they once said monsters roamed. Verne has an imagination that she constantly finds herself wading through, a deep ocean of thoughts and ideas and possible futures that sometimes cloud her vision of reality. While she never hesitates to rise up to any challenge, she also rarely thinks of ulterior motives. Her golden eyes only shine with truth, however blunt it may be. She's not the manipulative type–too bad at lying to do that, her sister would say–but she's willing to go to lengths to get what she wants. Still, that doesn't make her all friendly and innocent. They say she and her sister left their birth village because they made a deal with the devil. Even now, no one really knows their story, only bits and pieces of it, and she's happy to keep it that way. She's constantly on the edge of the unknown, staring out into a world, ready to begin. The mountains ahead may be the challenges to come, but she's ready to take the very first step. Character created by Achromatic, played by bauble.


6 to 11 moon old cats. Assuming they survive the berry test for promotion, each trainee will choose a district to swear their life to. Unlike other clans that have 1 on 1 training, a whole district takes on their training as a whole.

A smoky, dark-gray Lykoi she-cat with light-green eyes and white patch on the back of her right ear. Being young when destiny decides to rudely kick down her door of peace is somehow familiar, also the door was unlocked and would've welcomed it presence. Daughter of Uta and Accalia of PI she's the youngest and only one of her siblings to have the miraculously luck of having her father in her life. Her father is another story, most of his kits outside of PI and the one litter that was completely neglected by both parents. So how exactly did she came to be? Funny story, her mother adored the tom that treated her so normally and was fascinated with her unique look, she was an artwork and masterpiece and he gave her the spotlight and feelings of acceptance. Her father on the other hand, the sadistic little manipulator more truly fascinated with thrills of being alive and the unpredictable nature of cats and the wonders of how a cat changes because of a single moment and to see it happen. . . But he likes to be involved because it's lonely on the edges; a shrinking friend circle, an obsession with a lost love - makes you revalue what's closes to you and Accalia his constant, there for it all and if the world should end she very well might still be there by his side. Growing up, her parents naturally always around each other gave her the luck of actually seeing her father, even if he's really only there for her mother. She's just the little excited kit going 'daddy!' and he just slowly paws her to the side or back to her mother like 'who are you, why are you calling me that- oh wait yeah' Perhaps some fertility issues delayed this kit's arrival but she and her sibling are the ones that got through. He only exists in her life by chance but she doesn't realize that or doesn't care, who knows? Perhaps this little devil makes her own faith, maybe if the two she-cats pressure him to act like a dad he might just become one. Her mother, for a PI cat, is actually very sweet, loyal and trusted too easily but she wasn't dumb - pent up anger and creative with any revenge she wanted are just Alula's favorite little bedtime stories. Her father couldn't be any more opposite, unfazed by most things even holds exotic aesthetics of ill yet masterful tastes. Sadistic and savage from his violent upbringing believing in no love of the cold void of a world they live in and reduced to fueling it with in chaos and destruction. She's heard bits of her father's kills, some regardless or whether it was deserved, some just for fun, for the thrill of it. Yet still under all that horror having genuine concern for his select few - not everything is purely out of his own benefit if it mean he can help those close to him as well or keep them safe. Alula believes this is what her mother sees in him as well. By all chances she's still managed to have a calm, loving, stable upbringing among the PI environment of survival for the fittest and she understands the life and death of those around her and her wildcard place among it all. And still such an optimistic little kitten- well anything is possible after all so why let anything stand in the way? She's full of hope and fighting to be the best version of her she can be. She's a kind, considerate, respectful and straightforward she-cat whose rather quite in-tune with emotions and emotionally mature in navigating otherwise difficult situations. She see the good, and the protentional in others and funny enough like her dad in a way she wants to help them transcend for their own benefit. Alula is confident, and rather competitive for without my enemy what would I do? She can't say no to challenge because how else can she push herself to be better and she can't inspire others if she's not trying her best. Alula is surprisingly calm and down-to-earth she-cat with an unshaken level-headedness about her as a polite and steady cat even in conflicts and crisis, she focuses on how others feel and what they want and being as reasonable and realistic as she can in fining the silver lining in everything. Even her appearance and 'attractiveness' to others means little her as she looks just like her mother and she's most beautiful cat she knows. She surrounds herself with the intelligence, cunning, creativity of her parents, the love and kindness of her mother, the callous cruelty and lethality of her father, the cleverness and complexity of her role model and secondary mentor Niamh, the maturity, wildness and protectiveness of a few of her half-siblings

Arwen is an unexpectedly helpful she-cat. Loud and boisterous, she can make a grim day a little more bearable. She is very strong for her size and is good at helping others with strength related tasks. This calico can be a little bit of a show off and competitive. Anything you can do she can do better is her claim and she'll prove it. A jack of all trades, she often feels out of place but that does not deter her for making a home for herself. There are three things she hates most - showing weakness, showing pain, and flowers. This six-toed she-cat depises flowers. Give her a flower and you'll find her claws in your pelt. Give her a snake and she'll run into the bushes. She had a close encounter with a snake once and has never taken a chance since. They're creepy, crawly, and make her sick to her stomach with anxiety and fear. She has a younger brother named Issac who she cares for deeply and would protect with every fiber of her being.

Black she cat with one green eye. Lost her eye just trying to survive the city but otherwise has made it thus far. Seems quiet and her past is unknown but she has a feisty fighting spirit. Can tell that she has made kills even at such a young age. With some cleaning up she can be a great asset to Primal Instinct.

Silence is a virtue - or so the saying goes, right? Some may say that Darion takes this saying too literally, but he wouldn’t say so. In fact, he couldn’t even if he wanted to. Silence is just a way of life for this mute tom, but he uses it to his advantage quite well. It’s not just his voice that lacks sound, either. His steps are just as quiet, and even more deadly. Sneaking up on others is a pastime, and he’s really good at it. Whether he scares, surprises, or just kills the person he’s sneaking up on depends on both his mood and who the unsuspecting victim is. He’s a natural born assassin, through and through. Despite his muteness, he can get his point across rather well. His large, blue eyes are very expressive, and his knowledge of body language is helpful. In fact, his knowledge of twoleg literature is rather impressive as well. It was a skill that he had picked up long before joining the League, and it’s a story that will never get to see the light of day. However, it seems everyone knows of his fear of hawks. Some say that he may have been a kittypet before being found, as his white pelt seems to be well cared for, but others disagree. Darion knows the way of the world and has a strong will to survive in it, how could a kittypet have picked up those skills so quickly? Though Darion’s past may remain a mystery, his future is just as uncertain to him. What does he truly want in life? What are his passions? He honestly isn’t sure. Other than a good run and sneaking up on others, he doesn’t seem to truly enjoy much, at least not enough to pursue it. So, for now, he takes it day by day, merely surviving without a true purpose. Perhaps silence is the virtue of fools.

Ex leader of the ragtag gang the Lost Boys Finnbar is a silver tabby tom with green eyes. He made the gang with other young adolescence near his age so that everyone could survive the rough lifestyle of the city. He didn't care where they came from or what their backgrounds were...together they would survive. As fate would have it they came across the then warden of The League Regulus and took up his offer to join them. Finnbar has a natural ability to give directions to others but has a tendency to come across as bossy to others that distrusts him. He truly has an issue with others that disobey what he asks or demands. This tom is a good looking individual who has a picky taste in wanting a mate but loves a good fling. He also has a fear of dogs and cannot for the life of him catch his damn tail.

A short-furred black tom with dark green eyes. In the brightest sunlight, one can just barely make out faint vantablack tiger-tabby stripes blended into his midnight fur, like ripples in a deep, dark pool. He is a large tom, built with muscular legs and powerful raven-black claws that are so long he cannot fully sheath them. His most notable feature, however, are his piercing green eyes, somehow sharper even than his claws. They are a warning best heeded given that Jinx’s actions are almost always violent and aggressive. He is extremely reactive, addressing blatant insults and slight annoyances (such as trying to be friends with him) with bared fangs and bristled fur. It’s all but clear that Jinx isn’t meant to live with other cats, further cemented by the fact that he is very selfish. He takes what he wants when he wants it without any regard for how it may affect others, be it food, shelter, or just a nice place to lay down. He is also the jealous type who sets others up to fail to balance out their perceived successes. The only exception to his flawed perspective is Pandora, the she-cat who freed Jinx from certain death in a twoleg shelter, and the one who he has pledged to serve even ahead of the League’s formal leadership. He looks to her with devotion that borderlines obsession and never strays far from her side.

A slight, skinny black tom with seething grey eyes. He's bony, weak, and has large fennec fox ears. All his life, he’s been underestimated and cast aside, a lackey to his perfect sister and a punching bag to his charismatic brother. His short pelt is littered with scars and he’s developed a hunched way of standing and walking, having learned making himself small and insignificant is the best way to weasel his way out of his brother’s sadistic cruelties. But none of this has left him merciful or gentle; it’s turned him slimy and toady, submissive on the surface and venomously jealous on the inside, a tinderbox waiting to ignite. Far from the injustices of his youth making him insecure, he’s a latent narcissist, believing himself above everyone around him. He hates his brother viciously and resents his sister. Though both his siblings believe him to be stupid, he’s uniquely gifted at twisting illusion and reality, rumour and misunderstanding, deception and truth - with useless claws and no fighting skill to speak of, he’s learned, quietly, that his best weapon is the words he can twist and poison. He’s a bit of a yandere and is good at gaslighting, though he perhaps believes himself to be a little cleverer than he actually is. Once he fixates his attentions on you, you’d best run. He has a nervous twitch that comes out when he’s particularly riled up or excited by his own scheming; it mainly affects his head. His voice is quiet and obsequious, often fawning, though he has a deadpan, biting sense of humour when his true self occasionally slips through the snivelling veneer. Violence and cruelty inflicted on others by others - especially the drawn-out, slow kind - send a quiver up his spine; they’re the finest foreplay, and he loves to watch. He considers everyone around him to be base and stupid, driven by some instinct he himself is above and easy to manipulate. His treatment of friends and family forms the tragedy of all their lives; they trust him, and he holds them in contempt. He can be quiet, head bowed, strategically dumbing himself down; and, mostly while alone, he can be psychopathically unhinged and acidicly jealous, at times possessing a special brand of dramatic, incendiary flair. He loves to line metaphorical dominoes up in a row and see how they fall, watching with a darting-eyed sort of reverent glee. In a word, he’s brutal precisely because he looks so submissive and harmless. He has the true makings of a killer about him. An Iago, but maybe this time he slips out into the streets of Cyprus and leaves the carnage upon the bed.

Kitten is a half dark grey and half beige, hairless cat. She has one bright green and one bright blue eye. She is small size and seems extremely focused on whatever task she is given. She was named by Daviella without much creativity and was raised by Daviella and Fabian her whole life, but belongs to neither of their families.

Bangel tabby mix tom yellow green eyes. He is quick to follow Finnbar's lead and is his right hand man. He's had a rather quick reaction time. His back right hind paw is slightly twist due to unknown reasons. But he is determined to not allow it to slow him down. He tends to get himself in sticky situations and comes up with creative solutions to get himself out of them. He absolutely hates the water since he cannot swim and refuses to learn how. He is very afraid of drowning he is also afraid of fish because they freak him out. While he can be a smooth talker some of the time he gets tongue twisted when talking to a she cat he actually likes. Very much a cinnamon roll but refuses to admit it.

A beautiful calico patterned Japanese Bobtail with heterochromia. Luminance was named after Glowstar because she is married to both Funk & Fox. She takes after her adoptive father Michele a bit (who is the adoptive son of Funk) and is a collector. Her collection however involves bugs but in particular butterflies. Does have a problem following directions as she tends to see a million ways to do a task and wants to try them all.

If survival was based on luck, Rami would never die. Born and forced to fight for his life every day in the city, the story of how he came to join Primal Instinct changed depending on just whose heart he’s trying to woo this time. He may claim that he got this far out of pure skill, but it’s much more likely that he charmed his way out of most situations - and ran when that failed. Flirtatious is one way to put this tom’s nature, as there are few things better to him than good music and love. Unfortunately, love always tends to escape him, as his heart is always changing. Who he claims to love one day won’t always be who he loves the next, so it’s a good thing that he’s fast enough to run from the angry cats he leaves in his wake. Surprisingly, he’s good at getting out of most situations on his own, which is rather useful as Rami is quite the troublemaker, although he never intends to be. Suave as he may be, he is just as dramatic. Everything that happens has got to be a story to tell, and he tends to over-exaggerate his feelings sometimes. With his chocolate point siamese fur and brilliant blue eyes, he’s not hard to look at, perhaps a contributing factor to how he’s able to get away with so much. Despite his way with love, he is still a very loyal friend. He can normally be found hanging around others, whether they want him to or not, because deep down, Rami is truly just afraid of being alone. At least he will always have music.

Son of Ulta and Accalia Tarn is a like grey lykoi tom with dark stormy eyes. Tarn grew up with two parents and his sister, however he truly only saw his mother and sibling as family. Tarn could see from an early age Ulta had no real interest in him so learned to attach himself to his mother. In that matter he was a mommy's boy through and through. Despite the fact his sister looked up to their father Tarn is actually pretty close to Alulla-Nova kun. The tom has a strong will power as well as a good general sense of direction in life. He is a cat all about taking action even if he doesn't necessarily think things through first. Unfortunately he is also a cat of pure emotions allowing them to help decide most of his problems and decisions. Unsurprisingly that has lead the tom to an array of problems but somehow cones out (mostly) unscathed. All he wishes for is to be a better cat than his father was. To be what his mother was like. Perhaps he is heading in that direction anyway but who truly knows?

Black and white tom with green eyes and a broken fang. Although deaf in one ear he is pretty great about checking his surroundings. The only reason he was caught was that he was watching over the three younglings he had found (Jinx, Crowley, Willow, Riza) prior to being caught. He helped to keep a lookout for any two legs that may have tried to come in during the escape. Was actually very useful at feeling the surroundings around him therefore saw something that he could be good at. Pandora gave him an offer to join The League along with the younglings he found.


0 - 6 moon old cats. The kit equivalents.

Everything is all about Dominic. He wants to be the center of attention and will do anything to make sure all eyes are him. He is the troublemaker, the class clown, and the one you hate to love. Dominic is arrogant, even when he has nothing to back his word up. He's always hoping others won't call his bluff because the truth is, he isn't very skilled in much of anything. He is very persuasive, however. He has a sharp tongue and can and will start an argument with anything that speaks. Despite all of these less desirable qualities, if you can stomach him long enough, Dominic is a wonderful and very loyal friend. He will always root for you, and be there for you any time day or night. He is a fluffy white and grey tom with bright green eyes. Dominic is the middle-born of Sarah, Maria, Rose, and Alphonse. Son of Trish.

Every monster begins with a heart of hope as soft as silk, a desire to what was right by them that rages like a fire, and the bitter, dry taste of pandora's box, the twisting dark truths, the voices that had spoken in their ears for so long, words they never found the strength to acknowledge, the ones that ask: are you afraid of the question, or are you afraid of the answer? Emeline holds all three things in her hands. She has a heart, as soft as the silken fur of her mother's belly before she was ripped away, set aside to be some experiment for a mad scientist's desire. Often selfless to a fault, she always has a smile on her face and a soft look in her green eyes lest she worried the others, a heart that forgave any wrongdoing against her because she knew deep inside that others truly were good. She has the raging fire, like the flame-point coat she has, that burning need to protect those she has put under her charge, pushing her to be almost too reckless, throwing herself head-first into situations before thinking. She understood the bitter, dry taste of the truth; after all, she was raised in a laboratory, only escaping when Cora, the youngest kit of the ragtag family of theirs was killed by a woman with hard lines on his face. Having to fend for themselves since a kit, she knows exactly what it takes to survive; her eyes turn into the cold eyes of a killer when her family is threatened. So what is the question, and what is the answer? Emeline has always known the answer, what shall she fear? It isn't the monster she fears in the darkness, for they once had hearts like her own, the softness in their lines and a fire in their hearts. No, she does not fear the monsters ahead of her, rather, she fears the thing that's created them that way instead, for something must've stolen the warmth from their chest and the silk from their soul to turn them into this, and if it can happen to others, will it be so easy to happen to her?

A white she-cat with yellow eyes. the quietest of the group of she, Emeline, Demetrius, Ronan and Nicomedes. Often observes before speaking or acting, looks at the bigger picture. Shy and timid, she's often hanging behind, waiting for something to happen first before acting. Quiet and a good listener. More mature than the others in the group, and therefore can sometimes take the maternal role. Naturally intuitive, has a talent for spotting lies and discrepancies. Determined and stubborn when she makes a decision, will go to any lengths to defend it. Easily annoyed by how reckless other cats can be, and when others put her/her siblings in danger, she has a scary side that comes out.


In the past, PI has taken numerous prisoners for various reasons. Nowadays, the League doesn't take a lot of prisoners since their focus is on survival. So if you end up here, you're in some deeeeeeeeeeeep trouble. Your cats will also end up here if you forget to reply to the AC