"Another year of mischief completed, Faust," Hawkins said, a rare smile gracing his lips as he scratched his Mink friend behind the ear. "And I hope many more to come. I procured something for you as a token of congratulations and, I suppose, gratitude for your loyalty and endless entertainment." Gesturing to the rest of the crew, a large box was brought over. Within was a giant scratching post, a terrified, well-dressed man tied to it. Around his neck was a familiar cross. "It seems that noble I liberated you from had distant family in this part of the Grand Line. The cards revealed his location and told me you might enjoy keeping your hunting skills and claws sharp with this fool."

Making another gesture, a member of the crew picked up the box and hauled it down below. "And yes, the box is also part of your gift. It'll be in your quarters for your post-hunt nap."

(from @waraxarcana)

@waraxarcana | Faust's Birthday

If any other day of the year the black haired mink already indulged in his own desires, in his birthday couldn't be different. Faust turned worse by the time the clock hit midnight, the purest form of egoism allowed one time per year. Only one man was above his mischief; his captain. If you didn’t count the friendly nibbling on his feet to announce the clock had passed midnight. 

Loud purring echoes as his eyes are half closed, tongue just a tad in a blep. He turns around, choosing which places those pleasant nails would scratch just in the right spot until one of his legs raises up, wiggling in the air. “ Loyalty, endless entertainment, incredible strength, amazing puursonality. Don’t I bring so many things to your life, Captain Haawkinss. ” Ears shoot straight up as the big box arrives, eyes that were shaped like a moon turn into a thin line. 

Slippering from the sorcerer's hands without thanking him as his excitement speaks louder. Fixes eyes into the cross at their neck. The crying and screaming from that man doesn’t mean anything to the mink, they’re like the seagull cries when they’re torn apart. Faust runs towards his gift, excitement in his voice clear that battles through his purring. “ Rejoice; as for you had been granted a lifetime opportunity. Your cries should be of happiness instead of fear; ” Claw traces through legs; craving through the skin of the ankles as in a single swipe it blood pours like wine. Tendons cut clean.

“ But fear is good too! I deeply appuuurreciated. ” Same claws are swiftly to climb the giant scratching post. Each knot and even the texture was of perfect quality—he knew the magician was up to something when avoiding conversations around him. 

At the top, Faust sits calmly; tail moving side to side. He enjoys listening to the bargaining of the noble under him, it’s fun. A great way to start his little birthday ritual. “ Oh, Nyah nyah nyah! It’s not about innocence, my good man. Innocence has nothing to do with anything here. This is a test! A approbation! Cleansing. A pledge of forgiveness. ” “ All you have to do is survive 30 minutes—no! 20 minutes because I’m in such a good mood. Survive 20 minutes and I’ll let not only you, but everyone from your bloodline alone. Nyaahh ~ Sounds pretty fair to me. ” The mink stands, balancing himself at the top. The wind from the sea made his long dark cape dance in the air. With a single click at the pin on its shoulders it let loose. Open arms; eyes closed. His dark fur was engulfed by the moonlight fully. “ False gods; the ones that some of you claim to descend upon—or one Good that hears the claim of many declawed tortured souls of my brothers and sisters; ” Eyes open in fully red velvet. “ Who's stronger? ”

“ Those who have faith do not fear death; as their god shall hear their claim. As for this only night, I shall be your Judge, Jury and Executioner. ”

New members fall at their feet, old ones sweat as the image of the simplistic black cat grows; as if his skin can’t fit his new form and slowly contorts to adequate it. Claws, fangs, mane. All fit the monster form that Faust takes. His curse. The darkness leaves for white pure fur; and once the transformation is complete. Faust, claws out the man from his bonds letting them fall on the floor; on his knees, begging, praying—crying. The sand clock starts—as the Mink jumps from his scratch post. The entire carnage lasts nothing more than 10 minutes, a vicious playground of a feline that doesn't seek to kill. Just the pure raw instincts of playing with their prey. It doesn’t cut more than it should, doesn’t slasher to kill and seeks pain more than anything else.

Once the shine from their eyes finally disappears it’s when the mink stops. A disappointed clicking of tongue. His jaw opens only to engulf the whole head of the corpse as instincts demand him to. New record. He wondered if their children (if that man had any) would have the same endurance in 10 or 20 years. Faust brings the corpse along and drops at his captain's feet. Kneeling, his forehead—only part that wasn’t drenched in blood touches softly on Hawkins’ knee. Although right now his primitive instincts took over and his voice would only speak in rough roars. He wishes to say thanks. 

His whole act is not only for himself, it is a warning—that little push new members need to fully throw themselves at his best friend and captain’s hands. For now, the transformed mink carries the corpse at his mouth as he climbs the mast of the ship in direction for the highest place possible. It’s his birthday gift, he doesn’t want to share it with a certain horse at least for that day. He will indulge on his new scratch pole later and in special, that box will be his sleeping bed until it breaks apart. 

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SHE ANSWER3D. MY LITTLE SISTER ANSWERED NY MESSAGES NOW THAT IT'S FIR A BAD? THING