CAESAR

[RUSH!?]

Name: Caesar
Gender: Male
Breed: Lion
Age: 7

Year Created: One
Season Created: Summer

Appearance:

a deep golden pelt, rich and regal looking which is a lighter gold, almost white on his underside and white around his muzzle and under his eyes. His mane is just as golden at the front and a darker brown, near black further down. A slender golden tail ends in a dark brown/black tuft and His ears have black tufts on the top.

eyes a gold brown colour with black markings around them and a white marking on the bottom.

A large scar decorates his left thigh and shoulder. There is another huge scar on his belly as well and various small scars on his rump. One of his ears is torn a little also.

Personality:

Feeling himself worthy of the name 'king' which his species is known for, Caesar is quite the arrogant cat. He has an extremely high opinion of himself and sees himself as being above all others in both mind and body. He can be quite a 'snob' at times and talks down to everybody, regardless of their age, gender, or breed.

His arrogance, of course, makes him bold and outspoken; he will say almost anything that comes to mind, regardless of what it may sound like, whether it's an insult or not. He can come off as just being plain rude at times, and this sometimes repels others from hanging around with him. This he does not mind, however, he has no need for 'friends' unless they are of some use to him; if he can gain something from them. He has a habit of using the rare friends he does make and ditching them after they are of no use to him anymore.

Despite this, he will hang around females for longer. Though his wry comments will many a time be enough to make them kick the dust in his face. Though he believes females to be 'lower' than males (especially himself) he will constantly flirt with them. A dominant male, he will exert his 'superior' power over others, females in particular until he gets his way.

However, he can be very lazy at times and will often steal others prey instead of hunting it for himself. He prefers to steal off those who are definitely smaller and weaker than himself, mostly so he can chase them off if they come back for more.

His pride can sometimes get in the way of his ability to think things through and he can come off as a bit stupid at times (which he can be), even though he is quite scheming in order to get others to do as he wants, sometimes even without them realising.

History:

"Your arrogance will be your own downfall someday. I only wish I could be there to see that happen."

He never believed that for a second. There was no way he could ever fall. He was Caesar, a lion, a king.

Caesar had been born into royalty, it was in his blood, it was his fate to become a king. If only his father hadn't clung so desperately to life. Then he would not have died the way he did. With eyes filled with betrayal, a red tint staining his once glossy, now faded coat. Then he may have been able to retain his dignity, his pride.

Then they might both have.

It was a small pride just beyond the outskirts of Ash City, beyond the mountains that separated the city from everywhere else. A small pride, a dying pride in a dying world. Nevertheless, the pride thrived on what it had, they worked together to catch what little prey they could come across, to defend their territory. They worked hard, pushed on, continued to survive under their kind, respectable leader. Some said he was the reason that the pride had managed to last as long as it had. Some said that none could ever hope to replace him and none could take over, they would make sure of that.

In the end, it was he who brought about his own demise, in a way.

When he decided it was time for an heir, he never guessed that it would bring about his early death. When his mate conceived one male and a female cub, he never thought his son would be the destruction of the pride.

Unfortunately (or fortunately, whatever way one looks at it ) Caesar's sister died early on in life, when her eyes had barely opened. Some say it was Caesar's fault, he would never let her get enough nourishment to satisfy her needs. Even as a young cub, he was selfish. But the death of his sister meant that he would get more food for himself, and so he could grow into a strong, healthy lion with great potential of becoming the next leader.

His father taught him the way of the world well, and Caesar soon became quite adjusted to it. He had learned how to hunt quite brilliantly, though he rarely did hunt, leaving it to the 'lower class' femmes. A king does not hunt.

When he was just about a year old, Caesar began to feel a little bit power hungry. This feeling grew as the days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months until he found himself wishing, hoping that his father would give up his position ( in any way, he did not mind whether he stepped down, or died ), so that he could become the leader.

His father, however, was not quite ready to give up.

By the time Caesar was nearly two, his impatience to become 'king' got the better of him and he confronted his father about it.

"You look tired, father. Why don't I take over the pride for you?"

His father was still persistent in holding onto leadership.

"I'm fine, son. I can handle it, I have for the past years and I will continue to for years to come. There is no need for you to take over. Just enjoy the life you have, free from the worries and responsibilities that comes from being king."

The last word was like a drug to Caesar. Did he want to be king? Did he want the power of leading a pride of strong and mighty lions? Did he want to be respected, feared, known throughout the land? Yes. That sounded perfect. And he would not wait for it. It would not fall into his lap like everything else did, not with such a stubborn father.

His father, however, had noticed the glint in his son's eyes as he had said the words, and knew what he was thinking.

"You're not experienced enough yet to become the leader. There are too many responsibilities, too many worries and stresses. You wouldn't be able to handle it."

The last sentence was not said with spite, or with the intention to insult, but it did hit Caesar's pride and set him off.

"Me? I wouldn't be able to handle it?! I would do a much better job of it than you! You are too soft, happy to sit here and watch the pride grow smaller. Content with such small territory. I will be able to expand the pride, make it the most fearsome. Everyone will know us! We will rule this stinking world! I will be the king of everything"

With a flash of teeth and claws, Caesar lunged at his father and the two continued their long fight for what may have been hours. The lionesses of the pride tried to help their king a few times, but he ordered them back. This was between he and is son.

He did not think that his son was much younger than he. He did not think that his son would go so far.

After gaining some serious injuries ( a large gash up his stomach and on his thigh ), Caesar finally stood over his panting, near dead father.

"You are useless! Pathetic! A sorry excuse for a leader, a king. I will show you a true king."

Insults thrown out like spittle, Caesar glared at his father with hatred, and a slight smugness at winning, in his eyes. His father just let out a small smile, realising that his son was too far gone in his own pride.

"Such arrogance...it will be the death of you someday. I only wish..I could be around to see you fall..my own son..."

A bitter chuckle followed, angering Caesar further. He growled and opened his maw, fangs already stained with the life of his father. In one loud 'snap', he became the 'king.'

The lionesses, however, did not like this, but chose to stay under Caesar's rule for a while. However, it was clear that he saw them only as servants, pawns, disposable in his attempt to become the king of the world.

So they decided to do something about it. Ganging up, the managed to chase him out of the pride, leaving scars on his rump as they slashed at him. It was during the night when they attacked, and Caesar had been in the act of forcefully trying to produce his own heirs ( he had received a wound on his shoulder as a result, but had managed to subdue her in the end, before the attack ).

Caesar was run to the foot of the charcoal mountains, and decided it best if he cross them and start a new life, a new pride. He set his eyes upon Ash City and decided that he would start his empire there, amongst the tall, grand buildings of the man-made city.

When the day comes that he does gain power, his old pride will beg for their lives.

And he will not be merciful.