User Profile

Name:Catherine Walker
Age:19
Social Class: Townsperson
Birthday: August 6
Blood Type:O
Family: Mother - Helena(estranged), father - unknown, siblings-none known, extended family: All the girls in the Knight's Rest Inn. Friends: Eryn, Thibault
Preferred Element:Fire

When Cat arrived, it was definitely a surprise, but not entirely unexpected. When you're a brothel queen, you can't be lucky all the time.

Cat was an unwanted mouse, from the time she was born. Helena took care of her as best she could, but ultimately, she was raised by the entire brothel house, especially a woman called Cordelia. The girls there became like surrogate mothers to her, and Cat liked being there. As soon as she could walk, she would follow Cordelia around, like a little chick to the hen.
Living there was like playing dress-up to Cat. The women would dress her up like a little doll when they weren't entertaining customers.

When she got old enough to run around town by herself, Cat was instantly put to work helping with running the restaurant part of the "inn". She would run to fetch food ingredients, help keep the tables cleared, and sometimes she would even receive a bit of coin by just doing a childish dance and song at peoples' tables.

This was pretty much the normal routine. As Cat grew, she would take on other chores, like bringing breakfast to the women, and waking them up.

Cat was making her rounds one morning, when she came to her mother's room. The door was wide open, and she was missing. When she called Cordelia, now the house mama, to come see, they discovered that a lot of her clothes were missing as well, suggesting that she'd run off.
Cat was devastated. She knew her mother hadn't liked her very much, but it was her mother, and she was gone.

They sent people to look for her, but she had gone too far. It didn't take long for things to get back to normal, though. Things continued as they were, except some of them were a bit nicer to Cat. She was theirs now, after all.

It never occurred to Cordelia that this wasn't Cat's home, too.

At age 13, Cat started to train in the ways of being a woman. The way to dress, speak, to move just so, so that the men would notice and come around. Cat enjoyed these lessons. The years she spent talking to customers at the restaurant part had given her a taste for being the center of attention.

She was all too eager to learn to play a part, but she really was too outspoken for her own good. Cordelia feared that one day, she'd get herself in big trouble with that mouth of hers, and she was right.

Cat entertained her first guest at 16. She would always remember this man. Tall, dark haired, noble, and obviously very nervous. He wasn't any older than she was, she reckoned.
Cat followed her training to the letter, and when it was through, she found this not at all to her liking. He must have felt the same way, because he mumbled an apology to her. Like it was his fault? She'd never heard of an idea like that. Wasn't she supposed to do this?
Now, when Cat would get angry, it was a sight to behold. And this poor fellow got lucky.
Needless to say, Cat was put back on restaurant duty.

She preferred that, really. Being in a crowd was her thing, and flirting with the patrons was just a bonus.

From then on, she'd take customers if she felt like it, and minded the inn like nobody else.

When Cat was 19, she was chosen to attend Everthorne Academy and possibly become a mage. She looked forward to going because new faces and new things were always welcomed. Besides, she was tired of seeing the same old place. So if she was going to be forced to go, she was going to make it damn fun.

And then there was Luke. She hadn't known him for long, but he had been the fisrt person in memory to flirt with her not knowing what she did for a living. And it intrigued her. It was too bad he'd gotten kicked out in the first week. She'd cried a day for him.

At least she had Eryn and Tibs to keep her company. Cat really enjoyed that friendship triangle, but when Eryn started moving more toward Thibault, she decided it was time to branch out. The studying was hard, and she needed to find an outlet. Some mistakes were made.
After that, she stayed up well into the night studying. She knew she'd have to become better, not because of what she'd done, but because of what she wanted to be.
After all that, she decided she needed help to pass, and the one person she thought was a twit was the best candidate. Ashlea. He was smart, and had a very good chance of passing, so she went to him for help.
Ashlea wasn't such a twit after all after studying with him a few times, and she kicked herself for weeks afterward wishing she'd talked to him earlier.

After passing, Cat decided to go back to her home for a while. The girls were skeptical that she had actually passed until she showed them what she could do.
Most of cat's time since then has been spent trying to fix up her old neighbourhood. Sometimes she'd travel to take a break from it, but her main focus is making sure that no child out of that area grows up feeling ashamed of what they are.
Nowadays, she busies herself trying to figure out just what it is that mages do all day long.

Cat is an attention whore, plain and simple. She just simply isn't happy if someone isn't paying attention to her. She can be a bit crude, and curses like the proverbial sailor. Most of the time when she teases, though, it isn't meant to be offensive, but it most often is. And if you want dirty limericks, here's your girl. Flirting with everyone is her favourite pastime, though she'd call it "talking".

Cat is also a very fickle person. She makes opinions first and then revises them later. This goes for everything, and she changes her mind more often than she changes her knickers.

There are very few things that Cat fears, but the worst one of them all is her fear of storms. If she goes missing during a storm, chances are, you'll find her in the nearest closet.

Cat is of about average height, with long blondish hair usually worn up. After her experiences in the brothel, she prefers now to dress more informally, and not very flashy unless absolutely necessary.