Charles

Charles never knew who is mother was. His father was a tall, thin, regal white feline, so Charles certainly get his looks from him. His father also never spoke of her, but it wasn't a bad silence, more of a respectfull silence. Charles would have like to have known, because, since he was very little, he knew he was different. His fur was splashed with color, bright and iridescent in places. He could also change his shape on a whim. He doesn't even remember what he had been born as, but he spends most of his time as some sort of canine,

Charles was raised by a man who liked privacy. So growing up the young fur had few, but close friends, as he was also often teased about his odd appearance. As a result, Charles dedicated himself to his studies, learning everything he could. He excelled at music, which was good, because his father also enjoyed the subject. By the time he was five, Charles already knew how to read music and play the violin, then the piano. Music seemed to be the very foundation of their home, and poured from every crack and crevice. Charles loved the way he and his father lived. It was certainly a nice peacful life.

Music, obviously

Also painting and a bit of drawing here and there.

Writing as well

Judgmental people

Jazz music as well as rap

things that are to easy