[quote][color=yellow][b]"I know for a fact you're not here just to buy me a drink. Tell me what you're paying or piss off."[/b][/color]
[indent]-[color=yellow]VISMA AMAHAN[/color], DETESTED HALF-BREED[/indent][/quote]
[b][i]What, you're looking for a woman here? Don't waste your time. This place ain't got nothing but trappers... But if you insist, there [u]is[/u] one... Wouldn't for a second think of calling her a woman, though, but you can buy her for a night, and that's really all you're looking for, ah? She won't like it, but it's about the only option all the way out here if you've given up on your palms for all the callouses. Word of advice, though: steer clear of here the night after. She's bound to be buying out the taps with what you just gave her, and if you thought her mood was sour before, wait 'til you see her in the time between her first drink and blacking out.[/i][/b][hr]
[color=yellow][big][b]LIFE AS AN OUTSIDER[/b][/big][/color]
The innate asshole nature of cats is nothing less than an immutable facet of the universe. They get along well to outsiders, but only because they've separated themselves into an incomprehensible mesh of cliques. Woe be to those who attempt to penetrate this web of aloof felines, and may many blessings come to those who are forced to endure them.

Sadly, it seems that only the first has yet come for this one.

[color=yellow][collapse=THE CAT'S TALE][color=gray]In case that there was any more proof needed that this is a world without a just or loving god, there are those left without a choice in the matter. Visma's decision had been made by her parents; a hard-boiled adventurer who wanted his daughter to grow up in Sinnamari, village of the felines, as he had. No mother was around to voice an objection, having died in labor for this child. The dead of night found Visma Amahan, age four, sniffling in the middle of the clearing that would serve as the square for her new hometown. Her father, an adventurer renowned as Steel Gale for his silvery-white hair and hurricane-speed blows, left her with a promise that he would return and without looking back. He knew that if Sinnamari had shaped him into the man he was then, it would mold his daughter into a similar force of nature. A surrogate family of felines would be much better for her than an absentee father and an orphanage.[/color][/collapse]
[collapse=THE CAT'S PAST][color=gray]Begrudgingly accepted by the community of nekomimi, it wasn't until she reached the age of fourteen that she became conscious of the misery awaiting her. The fortune that had come from blooming late soon abandoned her. Standing head and shoulders above the full-bloods and a good deal more, she was denounced for her size and barred from entering into the hunts that marked a cat's passage into adulthood; quite the contradiction when paired with her endowments, which seemed to be doing everything in their figurative power to make her life miserable. Both her mother's wide hips, almost begging for a child, and the plush mounds of her breasts were passed down to her daughter. All Visma (and everyone else, for that matter) found them good for was getting in the way, and given her shameful size, it was no surprise that no one stepped up to instruct her to bind.

Forced to subsist on small game (although it's hard to tell by looking at her) and the meager coin she could make from selling their skins the domestic traders that didn't scrutinize her products [b][i]quite[/i][/b] as closely in the hopes of finding an excuse to reject it, the disheartened halfbreed longed for a way to prove her worth.[/color][/collapse]
[collapse=THE CAT'S CURRENT][color=gray]Haunted by the tales of her grand adventuring father, she set off from her unwelcoming enclave of a hometown to make a name for herself. Still, some problems can't be left behind with a simple journey into the world. She only got as far as a trapping hamlet so small and worthless as to not even merit a name before her meager supplies ran out, leaving her forced to take whatever work comes her way; when coin is sparse, her body also suffices for earning income. Now that she can actually [i]get[/i] a drink at the dingy watering hole there, she's come into a "slight" habit of overindulging and waking up with an absolute [i][b]bitch[/b][/i] of a headache. Of course, it's not drunkenness for its own sake, but it's not like she'd ever admit that.[/color]
[/collapse][/color]
[color=yellow][collapse=OOC][color=gray] Also comes in Shadowrun flavor![/color][color=gray][collapse=Details]Less self-loathing, more bratty, and a hell of a lot more Slav, but otherwise pretty similar. Her father was a runner, only he figured that his life was not one he wanted for his daughter. With the hope of keeping her safe, he left her at an orphanage he'd helped out against loan sharks many times in the past. Different from Sinnamari, however, was the fact that the kindly Russian matron of this orphanage actually cared for the young Visma: so much so that she took up something not quite like running but pretty damn close in order to show her respect.[/collapse][/color][color=yellow]★[/color] [color=gray]Yes, she makes a living as a prostitute in a shitty trapping hamlet. However, this doesn't mean that I'm looking to play her in one-night stands for pay. If you grease her palms so she'll spread her legs, you're more than likely going to have to deal with the fallout of her drunken sobbing.[/color]
[color=yellow]★[/color] [color=gray]To that end, the long-term play that will likely result would best be handled over notes.[/color]
[color=yellow]★[/color] [color=gray]If you are looking to speed up the breakdown of her spiteful nature and get her to admit all she wants is love, try comparing her to her father.[/color][/collapse][/color]