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this is the latest pic of sirwhatdoido as of 9/8/08 with new shades!

NAME: Fortune Aulus
Age: (Appears 18 )
Grade: Second year college student
Major: Ecology
Minor: Biology
Race: Cat Demon
Personality: Quiet, shy, independent at first glance but tends to be friendly and very helpful towards people.
Likes: Cat Toys, Cat Naps
Hates: being woken up from a nap
History: Young brother of Sir and Matella, lived in a Roman traveling circus.
Skills/abilities/powers: Has cat like balance, Pick locks with his claws, Elemental self-teleporter.

GASP! a new picture of me but this time with a neat oh hair style

The mouse was standing up and watching these scenes. It then scratched and cleaned his face then scurried back into his mouse hole. The old woman spotted the mouse then looked around at the destroyed room. She walked around her house looking at the destruction and saw her dead husband and the dead kicked cat through the kitchen window. The old woman sighed her tiresome sigh and began cleaning the mess she had made. She dragged out the body of her husband and placed him under the family peach tree. Then she dragged the dead cat to the same tree, keeping her tiresome wrinkled baggy face with her straight sagging tiresome lips. The old woman took a shovel and dug a large hole under the peach tree. The old woman all covered in mud entered her house and gave a zombish sigh as she looked at the mess in the house. The old woman began to clean up the house and patched up the broken window with tape. It was now the middle of the night and the old woman just finished cleaning up. She bathed and prepared herself for bed. She then crawled onto her bed and laid on her back, giving one last tiresome, emotionless sigh.
For months no one knew where the husband was, for their crops were all unplucked. Driving by they would see the old woman sitting alone in the kitchen, drinking her tea. She showed no emotions and her wrinkles still sagged with tiredness. She turned her head lightly and she spotted that little mouse. She watched the mouse’s every movement as if it had known her secret. Finally the old woman stood up and slowly dragged herself to the basement. There she looked around and found some rat poison and a couple of mice traps. She staggered back up the stairs and zombishly placed the traps around the house and scattered the poison pebbles around as well.
A couple more months passed by and suspicion arouse about that farm house. A police officer had stopped by one night to talk with the old woman. The house seemed precise and old. The furniture were all placed correctly and the vases all neat with their dried withered roses. The house seemed like a museum, with everything precise but dust was on everything as if the house was rarely used. The police officer sat at her table as the old woman poured him a cup of tea. The policeman asked her some questions about her husband in which she replied so calmly that she did not know where her husband had left and she did not bother to search for they have always been quiet towards each other.
Soon the mouse had rushed by making such a loud disturbance by knocking down class cups in the pantry. The policeman stood quietly and went up to the sounds; he opened it up and out dashed the white mouse. The policeman then asked the old woman where her cat was, in which the old woman responded that the cat had wandered off and never came back. The police officer then asked how she would get rid of the mouse as he drank up his tea, which tasted somewhat bitter. The old woman responded in a dead tone, “Poison.”

The morning sun slowly awoke as the wind blew the dew across the fields. Slowly awoke the birds as the farm houses began to appear with color. Suddenly the house began to jump and bang around with a disturbance. The old wife sat up on her bed with her red eyes opened with the wrinkles sagging down as she slowly turned her head to the side. With such a zombish appearance she stared at the opened door and deep into the hallway, waiting for the ruckus to appear. A dashing gleaming white mouse ran into the room as the family cat would follow right behind. The mouse would dash around the room, going under every shelter but that cat would crash and bash those shelters and the mouse would dash off again. The cat seemed to snicker, enjoying the chase as the old woman watched with an emotionless face and gave an impassive sigh.
The old woman now lags at making lunch. Her red eyes still wide and as she sluggishly moves with sagging wrinkles to compliment her face. The mouse dashed across the kitchen counter with the cat right behind, to crash and bash the pots and pans that the old woman had recently washed. She stared at the mess left behind with great stress, then she let out a sigh as she took the kitchen mop to clean up the floor.
The old woman now lounged on the couch and began crocheting a scarf, with that same old expression and those same old wrinkles that sagged. Soon the mouse ran in along with the cat, who was chasing the mouse right behind. The old woman watched as the cat chased the mouse with her usual laggish emotion. She watched her ball of yarn toss and turn and even watched her newly crocheted scarf vanish, yet her appearance was still the same. Once the cat and the mouse left, the old woman looked around the room saying nothing but her emotionless sigh. She then stood up and picked up the yarn threads as she slowly began to clean.
Soon the old woman heard another loud crash but this time a shriek came with it. The old woman sluggishly dragged her feet to where the noise came from. Her eyeballs followed the mess on the floor until they reached the dead cat. The old woman made a lively grin on her face as she began to laugh with such joy. She appeared so full of life as she laughed and she spread out her arms far apart and wide to embrace the sky. She twirled around with her arms far and free. She then pinched the ends of her blouse and pranced her legs around as she laughed with such joy. She began to dance on the debris kicking broken pieces of vases. She danced on torn clothing and stomped on some flowers. She hoped on the table taping and dancing, knocking plates off and breaking fine cups. She brought up a hand to her mouth and made a high class laugh as she looked at the cat. She hoped down and shuffled her old worn out slippers on the ground. She looked like a bull as she picked up her blouse then dashed toward the cat. She kicked that dead cat right out of the window then taped danced some more.
Her husband came in expecting a nice dinner but ended up with great shock on his face as he looked around the chaotic house. Suddenly the old woman grabbed his wrists and began to twirl around with him. She twirled quicker then quicker and quicker as her husband had on a very frightened face. She let go of her husband and he stumbled back. He crashed and fell on a sharp wooden stake, broken off the table. There he died instantly as the old woman continued to twirl blissfully around.