About

Ex-fighter, currently is a long standing realtionship with Beckett, his husband. Has a son named Luca who is a start racer. Works currently as a hunter to provide for his family. Slate was an only child. His father was a drunk failure. He would come home late at night and with a terriable attitude. Slate's word was full of pain as a child. He was relentlessly beat by his father. The beating wouldn't end until either his father got tired or Slate blacked out. Slate did anything to stay away from home. He ended up joining underground fights at the age of 18. Though this time slate would come home batterd and bloodied to no concern of his father. Whatever winnings he would get from his fights we would hide, for if his father found it, the greedy fluffpaw would steal it away. Slate endured through the hell that was simple waking up. Days started to blur together and the cycle of fighting and beating would continue until one evening when Slate had finally had enough. The sun painted the sky a deep orange as is began to decend under the horizon. Slate had come home early from fighting, his father haden't been home for days now and Slate had begun to think that his father might actually be dead somewhere in a gutter. Relieved by thinking this Slate drifted off into a relazed state. Half asleep now Slate was unaware that the door to the hut was open and his heavly wasted father was creeping into the dank room. Slate was awaken by a broken bottel that was being carved into his snout. Slate shoved off his father are roared in pain as his blood began to leak from his face. His father was back up and charging towards Slate with the bottle aimed at his face. Slate put his skill into action, easily over powering his drunk father. He slamed with father into the nearest wall and dug his razor like claws deep into his fathers ribs. Slate pounded his knee into the stomach of his father was he tried to throw Slate off. Unable to shake him off Slate's father colasped to the floor with blood oozing from his ribs and vomit edging its way out his throat. Slate stood back and looked of his father's crippled body, he spit on his father face before grabing his stash of money and stoming out the door. That night Slate turned 20, now offically an adult he set out to find a new place to rest his head. Slate never returned home not even to the news of his fathers death. Slate continued to fight for many years, some nights he would win others he would wake up in the hospital covered in bandages. On one particular night after winning a fight, a bloodied Slate met the love of his life. The night he met Beckett changed his ways. His stone heart chipped away at by the sweet, temptress that was a Beckett. Slate became a frequent customer of Beckett's, Slate spent top dollar to secure and evening with Beckett. Slate wouldn;t let anyone touch Beckett unless they wanted to loose their hand. Beckett was his first special thing in his life. Beckett loved the feirce look that loomed in Slates eyes and was touched by his softer sides. Their eventual love for eachother led to Slate quitting his champion career as a underground fighter. The two of them setteled down in a quite forest town where Slate picked up work as a hunter class fluffpaw. Taking on the larger more aggressive beasts Slate was able to afford a large home in which he and Beckett would raise their childern. Their first child was Luca, a wild spirit that is an ace piolt and star racer. He gets into trouble but comes home to visit his parents.(will continue to update).

Base Personality: Standoffish, not very social, has a small temper, has trust issues, isn't afraid of a fight but tries to avoid them, aggressive/hostile at times, sweet & caring to friends/loved ones, will die for those closest to him, occasionally has PTSD from childhood/fighting, is never agressive towards Beckett unless it is during "fun time", dominant, jealous, doesn't let anyone touch Beckett.