TGB - - - [ Primary - Air ] ~ Farox *

{ Personality }

[ Outspoken | Fearless | Powerful | Independent | Pompous | Relentless | Slow to trust ]

[ Courageous | Loyal | Actor | Inquisitive | Headstrong | Independent | Haughty | Slow to trust ]

{ } || Courageous;; Farox tries his hardest to never show fear. Fear is a weakness, something that blinds you and slurs your thoughts. He doesn't tolerate it, whether it be in him or shows in someone else. He could perhaps be called desperate to keep his existing fears concealed underneath his image rather than on it, and if he is not entirely able to mask them, he is typically quite successful at turning his fear into what appears to be dislike or anger.

{ } || Loyal;; Though it is indeed hard to befriend Farox due to his issues with putting trust in others, once someone does manage to do so, he will devote himself to that friendship. A cat like himself is destined not to have many friends, and he is aware of that, but for the very same reason, he is fiercely protective of the few friends he does have. Losing a friend would hurt more than not having one to begin with, and being aware of this, Farox is very picky about who he would call his friend.

{ } || Actor;; Farox is rather good at masking his emotions and intentions. This is good for him, and a noteworthy trait that sticks out brilliantly in the right situation. He's certainly quite the charmer on a good day, to say the least. One thing he can't always hide so well, though, is that he loves to show off his natural strength and fitness as well as his finesse in control and energy of his abilities. To say the least, he's a showoff and a flaunt. But, if you dug a little deeper, you'd find that if there was one thing he wanted in the world, it would have to be an idol.

{ / } || Inquisitive;; Must know, has to know. Very very curious; however, sometimes the saying "curiosity killed the cat" actually kills him. He knows it's not advised but he is willing to bend or break the rules for some information. Secrets make him burn, he wants to know; he wants to know everything; which derives with a fear of being "out of the loop". Any new kits anywhere? Any new tribal rivalries going on? Who all has joined the tribes recently? Who's mentoring who? The more he knows about other cats, the more secure he feels around them. Same goes for current events. However, it does get him along.

{ / } || Headstrong;; Farox states his opinions honestly and bluntly, even if other cats do not like it. Once upon a time, he rather enjoyed stepping on other cats' toes, but now he just does it to do it. When he was younger, Farox didn't always think about the possible negative effects of his actions. This led him into many a difficult situation, but he has grown to be more cautious over time. Still, if he wants something done, he'll make sure it is done, and if he wants something attained, he'll make sure it is attained. This can take its toll on he himself in addition to whoever or whatever poses a threat to his goals.

{ } || Independent;; Farox is doesn't generally let himself succumb to the influence of anyone else. However, he rejects most warmth and friendliness that may be directed towards him, be it advice, concern, or sympathy—most often only if the giver is of equal or lesser rank to him. He does, however, take most compliments proudly. He refuses to depend on anyone else; he can damn well take care himself. This is to say, he goes his own way, doesn't depend on anyone else, and doesn't treat others very kindly unless he's marked them as a friend, or they are of some value to him or those he cares about.

{ } || Haughty;; Farox has a habit of looking down on other cats. It's not as though he just thinks he's better than them for no reason; no, he merely puts his qualities above theirs. Pft, that cat lends trust far too easily; it'll bite them in their rear one day. Hah, that cat shakes like a twig; they'll never catch anything if they can't stand still. How sad, that one can't even speak properly. That one's plain ignorant. Oh well. To him, you just can't fix what's wrong with other cats; that's up to them. There's not much of a point in trying. There's also no point in just letting it pass by. Sure, he's proud of himself, but his road wasn't exactly easy, and he's learned a thing or two about other cats along the way. It took he himself a lot of pain before he actually shaped up into a cat he could really enjoy being.

{ } || Slow to trust;; Farox does not trust any particular cat; to be more precise, he veers away from trusting any other cats in general. He believes that he is his only ally; everyone else is just filler in the world, if not a rival or a bump in his golden road. Anyone who he views as having "wronged" him will remain on his bad side until they "redeem themselves," or he forgets about the situation. He has little sympathy for the underdogs and at times only respects someone after a dispute with them, be it physical or vocal. This only adds in to his problematic social life. But if you truly gain his trust and his loyalty; if you've begun to rub off on him and if he sees you in a time of need, he will be there. And he won't let you go until he knows you're okay.

{ Other }

[ Amnesiac | Hydrophobic | Pyromaniac ]

{ } || Amnesiac;; Partial memory loss due to a past experience in which his electricity-ability reacted violently to contact with water, sending a powerful shock through his body and brain. This damaged his brain's limbic system, and due to the initial trauma, Farox forgot most of his life preceding his third moon. (Retrograde amnesia)

With the help of Zarya, Farox has finally uncovered his past, and gotten his memories back. As a note, he can be rather forgetful at times these days, but it doesn't seem to be related to his past amnesia.

{ } || Hydrophobic;; Fear of water. Farox never goes out when it rains—instead, he huddles inside a den—and stays clear from all sources of water when possible. Splashing, to him, is quite possibly the worst sound ever. He also doesn't drink water—ever. He depends on juices from berries and prey to stay hydrated, and as a result of this he often suffers from mild dehydration. This leads to him experiencing headaches, loss of appetite, tiredness and fatigue, dry skin, chills, and head rushes.

Since joining the Tribes, Farox has managed to tame his fear of water for the most part. He still doesn't drink it and is still unable to swim, though, so unless it's inconvenient, or has something to do with his duties, he typically stays clear away from deep water. There is one additional exception to this; in times of desperation, he can sometimes be seen staring out at Ezrael's Lake. The still water seems surreal to him, and soothes his nerves. Update- now that he knows the source of his phobia, it's gotten just a little bit worse - he avoids water more often, afraid of the possibility of his amnesia 'making a comeback.'

{ } || Pyromaniac;; This is a little awkward sometimes, but Farox really enjoys fire. Sometimes he goes out in the woods and uses his spark ability to set small fires, but of course he takes care not to let them spread. If you asked him why he liked fire so much, he would have a hard time expressing his reasoning. But, deep down, he admires the beauty of the flame, and its capacity for both aid (such as providing warmth and protection) and destruction. Whenever he meets a Fire-Triber, he tries to figure out whether they're primary or secondary. If it turns out they're primary, he'll be overjoyed, and either he'll keep his pleasure to himself or he'll ask them to put on a little show for him. If it turns out they're secondary, he'll probably be much less enthusiastic towards them. It can't be helped - either way, he would have loved to be a primary Green-Fire, had he had the choice. Not that he hasn't grown to love Air-Tribe; he can even create his own fires, and manipulate the wind. It's kind of a win-win, isn't it?

{ Backstory }

Born in a litter of three, Archer never truly got to know his family in his youth. He's never even seen his mother, though he has sensed her, felt her, and heard her voice many a time. When he was just a kit, eyes not even open, his mother bestowed to him a necklace of turquoise beads; this was one of the few times she'd expressed a sincere fondness for him. His father, though, was far worse. He was abusive, and attacked Archer from the time he was about two moons old for battle training. His mother would teach him to hunt as a voice in a tree instructing him, with threats of sending his father if he did the wrong thing. His father also prevented interaction with any cat other than himself and Archer's mother. When the time came that his tattoo showed up, Archer felt different. He could tell that something had changed—a distant sense of new power within him. While each day he trained with his parents, for some time each night he experimented with his ability. He could sense things he had been unable to sense before, and it was very helpful. He gradually grew able to track his parents when they were reasonably near, and he made sure to use this to his advantage when his dear father came to "visit."

He felt that his father was proud of him for being so successful in training, but in all truth, there was no way to know. Archer only knew that he was getting hurt in the fights less and less, and that was a very good thing. After formally being bestowed the kit-name "Archer," from his parents, he started to get cocky. He ventured closer and closer to the confines of "his" defined territory, and often sat to sense what went on beyond. He learned that another cat lived in the territory next to him, and his parents often went there, too. This roused his curiosity—new or foreign cats had never come through his territory, so naturally he wished to meet one.

Archer was aware of his father's distaste for disobedience, and typically stayed within the confines of his stretch of territory, even if usually near the edge. He was almost always under surveillance by one of his parents, whether it be his mother or father, and he knew it; but it didn't really bother him. He was confident with regards to his training with them. One day, the sensed-things beyond his territory came to him stronger, clearer than before, and he could define them as the telltale sounds of a fight without much hassle. Buried in the hissing, spitting, yowling, there was a sudden cry, which so strangely prompted him to dash over the border with not a moment's hesitation. He soon came upon his father (and mother in the trees), attacking a rather pretty she-cat that seemed to be the same age as he himself. Archer was repulsed by the scene—the she-cat hadn't even been fighting back! How dare his father keep attacking her? Fueled by adrenaline and rage, the young tom leaped in, defending the she-cat by barreling his father with attacks again and again. With a hiss, his father lashed out at Archer, snapping at his ear to leave a permanent tear. Ablaze with pain and rage, Archer came back with a heavy blow to his father's face, bowling into him and pummeling at his muzzle until it started to bleed and his father was able to throw him off. Archer's father spit out two teeth that had been knocked loose sometime during the fight, which invoked a slight smirk on his son's part. Both toms panting heavily and suffering a toll-taking loss of blood, a silent draw was proclaimed. Archer escaped, but not before snatching the two fangs of his father as a prize.
In his mind, this was a victory for him, for a change.

Not far from his old territory, when the adrenaline rush died down, Archer stopped to tend to his injuries. He was sad to see his ear torn, but at the same time proud. It was a token of victory, just as were the two fangs which now were stored on his necklace among the beads. But the next day, the true test came.
A typical type of day after a storm blows through, this day did not seem at all out of the norm to Archer. There was no feeling of apprehension or any trace of a bad omen. When he looks back on this day, however, the young tom can't help but think in frustration, "Maybe there was?" He can't remember it, after all.

The sun was shining, the sky all but clear, with just a few scattered, fluffy clouds obscuring the blue. It was a magnificent day, really; one worth remembering. Though, he had to keep moving. He used to hear both of their voices in the trees at night, telling him the stories of the tribes. He would find them, and become one of them. Take up the craft of his parents, and better, at that.

A stranger spotted him as he maneuvered through the wood and yowled at him, making him stop firmly in his tracks. Archer yowled as his paw thrust forward and he began tumbling towards a muddy pool. His breath caught in his throat as he was thrown by gravity into the large pool of water, and his head went under. Naturally a rainwater puddle wouldn't be this deep, and Archer was very tall. Could it have been a water source that was simply tainted with muddy soil during the storm? Blue eyes screamed for help from below the muddied surface, the blue-tabby-and-white tom flailed wildly as he took in water in an effort to get air. He did not know how to get out of the water!

He felt teeth grip his scruff and start to pull him up. Terrified, thinking something was in the water, Archer struggled and screamed, letting out more of his precious oxygen reserve. Fangs met blood as the cat tried to get a grip on the struggling tom, and a single resulting spark from Archer's fur was all it took to light the pool with electrical energy. The cat dropped him into the electrified pool, leaving him to meet his fate.

That was the moment. The moment of truth... The moment he lost everything he was. The body survived, but Archer was gone. A single spark left his memories all but blank.

After that happened, he was really on his own—bloodied and bruised. The necklace he had provided some comfort, for it helped him remember small details of his memories... What his parents smelled like. How he was strong, how he had to have been strong because of the teeth in it. Though he remembered most of the tactics in hunting and fighting he'd learned before, some were lost to him. Even so, he supported and defended himself, shaping well into the life of a nomad. He didn't rename himself.

Eventually, he ran into a large group of cats. They called themselves "exiles". They... They seemed to think his tattoo was important; he, too, had thought that,
but he wasn't quite sure what to make of it. Some of the cats who had similar markings on their backs offered him help, and though he despised the thought of relying on others, he was curious, and this would only benefit him if he was ever in a struggle. They healed his injuries. He became known as Arrow for a short while, though he mostly stayed to himself. Half of the time he had was spent practicing his hunting or fighting and power, and the other half was spent listening to gossip or Tribe stories and sleeping. He never was much of a socializer.

A strange cat came one day, calling himself Aiolos. Arrow was intrigued by him—he had a tattoo like himself, but it was a color he'd never seen before. This led him to believe that Aiolos was truly special, and that he wasn't just spewing things from his muzzle. A kind of mental respect built up in Arrow for Aiolos, but yet, he still didn't feel comfortable around him. Many of the other exiles went with him when he left, but Arrow stayed behind. Salvation from this place was not so golden to him—he had enough food and water. Much later, when he started hearing rumors of the "Tribe" cats returning, he wasn't sure whether he wanted to leave or stay and see what was with them.

True to the gossip, the Tribes did return. Arrow decided to stay after a few nights spent observing the strange cats, and soon revealed himself to them, to melt into the ranks of the Air Tribe. He received a new name—Farox—at his Ceremony of Light, and has been called such since.

As a Blue/Green-Air, Farox met Shasta, a Pink/Orange-Earth at the time. It wasn't the most delightful meeting, actually; Farox was being confronted by a... a sort-of-friend - Maika - for injuring a Pink-Earth, Akida, who was also present. Rishi, Akida's mentor, was there too. All the Air-Tribe tom wanted to do was to put it behind him, but Maika wouldn't let him. Shasta tried to intervene, but to no avail. In the end, Farox ended up retreating from the scene, Shasta trailing behind him. The adolescent was in distress, though, and as such, was reluctant to allow this stranger to keep following him. After an unsuccessful attempt to get ahead of her, he turned on the she-cat and clawed her shoulder. Instantly, he regretted it. He hadn't meant to hurt her like that, he just... He just wanted to be alone. Apologizing incessantly, the Blue/Green-Air fled back into the trees.

Four meetings later with the she-cat - as adults - Farox and Shasta spoke about becoming mates. It was strange, speaking to the Silver-Earth about their future, but ultimately, it worked out. About a moon later, the pair welcomed four healthy kits to Earth-Tribe. When their kittens were born, however, Earth-Tribe's territory had been overrun with monstrous scaly beasts called caimans. As a result of this, the entire tribe was forced to evacuate from their own land and live in the Clearing of Light - part of Light-Tribe's territory.

Before the kits turned three moons old, the Silvers and Yellows of every tribe but Air and Water went to confront the leader of the caimans, and an all-out war ensued. All of the tribe authorities battled with the caimans that day - as did all of the guards and warriors and even apprentices of each tribe. Even Farox himself fought on the battlefield. The casualties were horrid. Two Silvers - Tylluan, the Silver-Shadow, and Aiolos, the Silver-Air - died in the war with the caimans, shaking Farox to his core. A third leader - Tzurai, the Silver-Fire - sacrificed herself to the spirits by jumping into a volcano, and a fourth leader - Vitani, the Silver-Water - left the tribes for good. The Yellow-Light, Jazlyn, left as well. Only Earth-Tribe's authority figures remained untouched, though even Rey, the Silver-Earth, lost a life in the war. Farox did his best to keep his kits out of it. Ignorance is bliss, right?

The new tribe authorities were as follows:

Silvers:
- Tara, Silver-Air; Castail, Silver-Fire; Cenek, Silver-Shadow; Tuari, Silver-Water.

Yellows:
- Seraphiel, Yellow-Air; Kinstu, Yellow-Fire; Sojir, Yellow-Shadow; Lully, Yellow-Water; Kehri, Yellow-Light.

Farox was unsure of how he felt about these choices - mostly regarding the new Yellow-Air, Seraphiel, who was a stranger to him before he'd received that position, but Kehri's deputyship was a... surprise... as well.

{ Family }

Mother || Chou, Exile. (name unknown) Living outside the tribes, presumably. Ginger, brown patched tabby. Amber eyes, slender build. Long fur. (Maine Coon)

Father || Emyr, Exile. (name unknown) Living outside the tribes, presumably. Gray and white tom with thick tabby stripes. Burly build, stormy blue-gray eyes. Short fur. (Domestic Shorthair)

Sister || Zarya, Orange-Light. Living in Light-Tribe. Mottled tabby with bold black stripes. Gray eyes, tall but sturdy build. Long fur. (Maine Coon/Domestic Shorthair)

Sister || Hunter, Exile. (unknown) Living outside the tribes, presumably. Ginger, brown, and white torbie. Amber eyes, stocky build, several scars. Short fur. (Maine Coon/Domestic Shorthair)

Mate || Shasta, Guard. Deceased. (Somali/Snowshoe/Havana Brown)

Cousin-in-Law || Tuari, Silver-Water. Deceased.

Son || Jace, Healer. Living in Light-Tribe.

Son || Idek, Loner. Living beyond the tribes.

Son || Merlin, Warrior. Living in Air-Tribe.

Son || Kite, Kitten. Deceased.

Daughter || Cadia, Guard. Living in Water-Tribe.

Daughter || Sylvani, Miner. Living in Earth-Tribe.

Daughter || Anastasia, Healer. Living in Light-Tribe.

Daughter || Naeli, Gem Collector. Living in Water-Tribe.

Soulbond || John, Warrior. Living in Air-Tribe.