GET YOURS TODAY: Recovered Character Biographies

RabidFox · Posted: Fri Jul 24, 2009 7:00 pm Post subject: JustinG: Banastre McTavish

You wouldn't know how bloody hard it was to make this guy from how short and bad this bio is.

He's done, at least.

Banastre McTavish
Age: 31
Gender: Male
Race: Cougar
Height: 5' 8"
Weight: 210 lb.
Eye Color: Brownish, Greeny.
Fur Color: Tan

Physical Appearance: Banastre is a large and wide - but barely portly - cougar with a fearsome slant (or, more precisely, lack thereof) to his eyes. He cuts quite the imposing figure to any who see him from the front. Even though he may look a brute, he proves himself quite intelligent in contrast to his appearance. He is, however, sometimes brutish in proving himself right.

Personality: Banastre is very intelligent - not the smartest, but still very intelligent, really. He knows a lot about a lot of things and can improvise and make educated guesses to seem like he knows everything. He always has an answer and is never wrong. He loves to pontificate in grandiose verbage (more often than not invented and based off of previous words.)

What he really likes is to have people listen to him and respect him - something he thinks he can get only from acting high, mighty and intelligent. Which works - until he meets a true scholar.

Biography: A studious blacksmith's boy. He spent most of his time thinking about either books and learning (which he didn't get as much of as he wanted) or weapons and joining the military.
As soon as he was the appropriate age, he entered the Edwinian Military Academy and became an artillery officer.

(WOW!!! That's so in-depth!!! ... yeah... I know... I'll flesh it out later. Or not. Is it that important?)

Education: Edwinian Military Academy
Vocation: Officer of an Edwinian Royal Artillery Battalion
Location: Deployed in Piriqui

Hobbies/Interests: Chess. Cards. Cockfights. And the like. Gambling on all of them.

Wears: Artillery officer's uniform - navy blue coat with red cuffs, lapels, and vest underneath, and gold trim and buttons. Navy, gold-trimmed tricorne.

Other Equipment: Leather satchel.

Weapons: Finely made saber given to him by his father upon his commission. Somewhat ornate and rather aged pistol taken off of a privateer captain.

Magic: None.
Drinking: Oh, yes.
Smoking: Out of the ears, too.
Swearing: No.
Religion: Not really.

Appearances:
(By In-Character Chronology)
Source of Trouble

RabidFox · Posted: Fri Jul 24, 2009 7:01 pm Post subject: JustinG: Mingus

(Since I've used him in... one? RP... I figured I should put him up here. Bleh.)

Mingus
Age: Unknown.
Gender: Male.
Race: Avian - Crow.
Eye Color: Yellow.
Feather Color: Black.

Physical Appearance: A large North American Crow with yellow eyes.

Personality: Megalomaniacal, proud, self centered. Easily captivated by anything, new and interesting, and is somewhat paranoid. Always thinks things connect, often in grandiose and fantastic plots. As silly as he might seem, he's rather intelligent, albeit it in a strange way.

He speaks somewhat oddly, with odd phrasings and incorrect tenses.
He, however, always refers to himself in first person, and never in third.

He is a little off when it comes to his ideas of world domination - destruction is more like what he has in mind. But, however strange and misguided he is, there's no denying that there is something... threatening about this bird, in a way no one can really describe. He doesn't feel like the weird crow he is.

Biography: Was once the bestial pet of a warlock, apparently. Nothing more is known about him or why he is intelligent and sentient. (It is likely he was not at some point in the past.)

Education: Lived with warlock - knows more than you'd think.
Vocation: World conqueror wannabe.
Location: Anywhere. Literally. He appears at the wierdest times in the oddest places.

Hobbies/Interests: Anything magical. Conquering the world.
Magic: It's not unlikely that he knows some.
Religion: Himself.
Swearing: In Crow.

Will Probably: Use some mundane object in a crazy attempt to kill thousands.
Will Probably Not: Succeed - but that won't matter to him.

Appearances:
(No Chronology Established Yet)
Don't Know Where I'm Going, Only Where I've Been
Home Again, Home Again (If you can spot it, good for you.)

RabidFox · Posted: Fri Jul 24, 2009 7:06 pm Post subject: JustinG: Ellyll Cysgood

Right... so since this is the first fellow in this age, pardon if he is a wee bit off. I'll fix some aspects of his character and such as I get a better feel for the age. But he seems good enough now. Hah!

Just for the record, I'm thrilled right now.
Hehe.
First Age of Cyborgs character!!!
(And he doesn't have anything to do with "cyborg" stuff. How ironic. Heh.)

Ellyll Cysgood (A.K.A - El)
Edwin Citizen number 842067-29
Age: 21
Gender: Male
Breeding: Kangaroo/Fennec/Thylacine/Otter (Kangaroo was through an artificial addition, not breeding.)
Height: 5' 10" - excluding ears
Weight: 150 lb
Eye Color: (Cobalt) Blue
Fur Color: Mottled reddish tan with brown patches, and faint brown Thylacine's stripes (All fur is always died black, however.)
Vocation: Masterthief (Seldom does espionage, and never does assassinations, etc.. Simply an uberthief, although he has no trouble with violence - though he still prefers to avoid it.)
(((Ugh. I can't believe I'm actually using a job this cliched. Oh well. Once. Just once.)))

Location: Always moving. On the run, in hiding. Is often out of Edwin, often in Domus or Gawain especially.
Affiliations: Kanghes Sydicate, and NOT the Movement.

Physical Appearance: Being (roughly) a mix of Thylacine, Kangaroo, Fennec Fox, and Otter, Ellyll requires a little description, as most denizens of this age do.

He has a streamlined body that flows into a long, thick, vaguely triangular (in cross section) tail which tapers smoothly to an end (primarily from the Otter, Thylacine, and Kangaroo genes.) His large, strong legs are definitely from the Kangaroo DNA he inherited from his father. His head is what you could imagine from the fusion of all his genes - long; and sharp and pointed, but smooth and rounded at the same time; with large, angular, backswept ears (given the Thylacine, Kangaroo, and especially Fennec genes.) His cobalt blue eyes seem to have a perpetual squint.

Alltogether, his shape is thin, smooth, strong, and alien in its seeming mongrel perfection. (Please, he is NOT an alien, this was simply a reference... he's just a normal fur...) The pitch black he dyes his fur conceals his odd, mongrelly patchy coloring and stripes and adds to his strange, if not unsettling, appearance.

Ellyll Cysgood dancing the Caramelldansen.
This is Kinetic Kimo's (rather good) interpretation of this odd hybrid.

Wears: The obligatory long black coat, along with a dark grey turtleneck at most times, black pants, and black fingerless gloves. This is what his wardrobe always consists of - he enjoys a certain amount of stability, given his ceaselessly changing lifestyle. (This is also reflected in his consistent choice of food.)

Biography: Uberthieves have no biography. He's a good thief. That's all you need to know, that's all he cares about.

That's what anyone'd tell you. But you're here for info, so here it is. Comes from Edwin, from a good military family - with undivorced parents and three siblings - although there were apparently some tensions because of his personality "quirks." He abandoned them five years ago. El still holds his family's religious beliefs strongly, perhaps because he believes his God is out to get him and must attempt to pacify Him. Also, he's been a professional thief for around four years, ever since he was bailed from prison by Kanghes after his sixth (and second failed) theft.

His only "friend" is his employer, a certain purebred tiger named Quincy Kanghes, one of the most powerful furs in the underworld.

Personality: It's not much to say that Ellyll is paranoid. Anyone who talks to him for just a moment can tell that. El is convinced that the government is evil, and is in control of all of those who have any robotics in them whatsoever. He is also convinced that the government is out to get him, for a reason unknown to himself. He's just... important.

He doesn't really have any friends... and he has about only three people he trusts. He's very lonely because of this, but won't show it. If anyone does earn his trust, though, - which takes several years, at least - they will find him emotionally immature and easy to manipulate, do to a want for friends and an inexperience with truly dealing with people. Only Kanghes has reached this level of trust so far.

Ellyll is completely brilliant, gifted with an amazing mind which works much faster than most. When he's not occupied with a job, though, he slumps into impatientness and sometimes depression at the idleness. He always seems to have a lot more energy, impatient, hurried energy, while he's waiting or unoccupied. To attempt to combat this, he listens to music quite a bit, and has developed quite a taste for most genres. He also studies history and reads about related subjects, trying to find new treasures to steal in the process.

His true love is planning and executing a theft. That's what he lives for, that's why he still runs from the government and survives. (Whether they may truly be actively pursuing him or not.)

Criminal History:
Has commited multiple international thefts of exceedingly valuable objects. One of his most remarkable exploits was in Yamaha. He seldom goes back. He has "visited" Gawain many, many times and been to Domus on several instances. It is thought that he traveled to Kahun once or twice, but the details have always been sketchy and concealed, even amongst the syndicate. His exact record is not well known. He is simply considered as a very talented thief, but his exact exploits are never really listed, save for one or two that might have bearing on swaying an employer's decision...

Recent history:
Ellyll was recently wounded in a routine, low-level theft in Edwin that quickly evolved into something very dangerous because of government involvement. Quincy decided the authorities were getting too close to El and shipped him out of the country, first to Rike Arktik for a few weeks while things cooled down around Edwin. Ellyll then moved into the Kanghes syndicate in Gawain, where he continued his work for the tiger in an environment that wasn't tracking his every action. The syndicate is still based in Edwin.

Weapons: A small machine pistol that fires normal slugs. It is comparable in construction to a futuristic version of the H&K Mp7, which is shown below:

(The H&K Mp7 is fifteen inches [15"] long although it doesn't look it.)
He also carries a smaller handgun with silent rounds. He seldom uses rays likely because the government is in charge of their manufacture.

Implants/Robotics: The government is watching you. Watching us all. Beware...

In other words, none. Never. Even if it means dying. The government is watching and controlling everyone and a life of freedom is better than an existence of slavery. No surgery either.

He also has less qualms about using less... intrusive... technology, though, namely a custom-made (black market) eyepiece and wrist communicator - he really has to use at least them to survive in this day and age. But the government is watching the channels, too, though, so he doesn't say anything... incriminating while using them.

Magic: Keeps trying to learn but can't.

Strengths: Paranoid Personality Disorder - very hard to track, catch, or otherwise hunt down or attack; convinced the government is evil and out to get him. Uncannily skilled at his job. Very intelligent. Has that quintessential agility belonging to any thief. His legs are extraordinarily strong, enabling him to run quickly - about 20 mph - and jump long distances - about 10 ft. straight up and about 20 ft. in a horizontal arc with a running start. (Super-enhanced Kangaroo DNA was definitely added somewhere in his family's recent history as part of a bioengineering test. Most likely his father was the one enhanced, as he was involved in similar projects in the military.)

Weaknesses: Paranoid Personality Disorder - doesn't trust anyone, extremely liable to get angry for little to nothing, has few friends, doesn't use implants, convinced the government is evil and out to get him. Obviously, him being a thief in Edwin, but he is paranoid even when out of the country.

He's lonely, as a result of all this. El is also somewhat emotionally immature due to the lack of socialization over the course of his life. He also believes that there is some grand plot revolving around him and his capture. He is terribly afraid of the word "sink" for odd reasons.

Hobbies/Interests: He is known to like music and sushi. He has always been interested in history and rare objects - especially ancient artifacts and small shiny things, for obvious reasons.

Education: Highschool, at best.
Religion: Trinidian
Music: Classical Techno (what we listen to now. Heh.)
Drinking: None.
Smoking: Sometimes...
Drugs: Terrified of drugs of any kind - prescription, illegal, or over-the-counter. This has little to do with his fear of the government, being an independent phobia.
Swearing: Nope.
Offical Criminal Record: Well, duh. He's a thief. He's been pinned for many crimes and committed many more.

But as incarcerations go, he has only been imprisoned once... not including when his family apparently sent him to the base hospital's psychiatric ward for a month when he was sixteen. He considered that incarceration, putting his grand total at two instances of imprisonment.

Will Probably: Freak out upon seeing a news headline that has nothing to do with him and think it does in fact have something to do with him.
Will Probably Not: Make a friend.

Appearances:
(By In-Character Chronology)
The Mech Arena
The Start of Something Grand

RabidFox · Posted: Fri Jul 24, 2009 7:07 pm Post subject: JustinG: Saul Prichard

Saul Prichard
Age: 20
Gender: Male
Race: Thylacine
Height: 5' 9"
Weight: 152 lb.
Eye Color: Blood red - side effect from imperfect regeneration.
Fur Color: Greyish tan, black stripes on his lower back, bum, and tail. Greyish color is also regenerative side effect.
Hair Color: Black

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Super Power:" Simply, he is indestructable. He can be temporarily destroyed or incapacitated, but he can't die. After a while, he'll simply wake up and then begin to regenerate his flesh at a slow pace. Bullets don't really stop him.

One could think of him as a "zombie" who can just regenerate whatever damage is caused him. After heavy combat, he can indeed look like the living dead. Regeneration from this state usually takes about one hour.

His regeneration, however, is not perfect. Only 99.99% of all cells actually repair, resulting in a slightly aged and somewhat damaged appearance due to numerous past regnerations - although this does not impair his body at all at the moment, besides the ability to attract a mate, perhaps.

If he ever takes enough damage, however, he will being to feel the effects of his incomplete regeneration. (For someone to be damaged, you doesn't need 100% of the cells destroyed. Only a small percentage is needed for the damage to be felt.)

He has no alter ego, although he attempts to keep his super life separate from his normal life. (He does dress differently for his "super work" but doesn't take on a different persona.)

(On a side note, his brainpower is rather high. This is possibly because his brain cells don't atrophy due to his powers.)

Origin: He doesn't really know. He never really got hurt by any childhood accidents, never broke a bone, never got stitches.

He discovered his gift in a revelatory moment that he has likened to "getting hit by a freight train" as he, a connoisseur of the comic book, instantly realized the implications of have a superpower.

Of course, he actually did get hit by a freight train.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Physical Appearance: A fairly normal, lanky thylacine with a barely noticeable odd look about him caused by his imperfect cellular regenerations. He has medium-length black, shaggy hair that he keeps marginally combed to either side.

Personality: Saul is quiet, introverted, shy, and unconfident. He has a rather low pain threshold - which does not exactly go well with his power, as he can still feel pain quite distinctly although it does little to affect him. He has been called a coward at times, but the truth is that he just doesn't like pain. And that he's a coward.

Biography: [forthcoming]

Also, he currently works at a tech-support business. While not at that job, he attmempts to sell his unique skills to supervillains, syndicates, or law enforcement agencies - he's not a hero or villain, just a super for hire.

Education: High school and bachelor's degree in computer technology.
Vocation: Employed by a tech-support business.
Location: [redacted]

Hobbies/Interests: Is a programmer, works on making his own games (usually a mix of RPG/puzzle/mystery) when not at work or not attempting to market his "other skills." Likes role-playing, either on the computer or off. He is interested in LARPing, but his off-job "super work" job endeavours prevent him from doing much, if any, of it.

Wears:

Casual: Loose jeans and mostly colorless (black, white, grey,) hoodies or long sleeve t-shirts. Cargo pants, fatigues, khakis - that sort of thing.

Work: Company polo, which is tucked in with a belt.

Superwork: Goes for the "tough guy" look to attempt to compensate for his weak personality. Usually charcoal cargo pants, urban camo blouse (or "jacket," as you non-military types would say) black t-shirt underneath.

Religion: Unspecified.
Music: Classical or 8-bit.
Drinking: Not really.
Smoking: No.
Drugs: Once upon a time, long ago. He got caught, though, and hasn't gone back since.
Swearing: Not really.
Criminal Record: Caught once for using drugs as a minor, served all appropriate sentences and etcetera.

RabidFox · Posted: Fri Jul 24, 2009 7:08 pm Post subject: JustinG: Silas

Silas
Age: Older than young, younger than old
Gender: Male
Race: (Apparently) Wolf
Height: 6'
Weight: 130
Eye Color: Grey mixed with Reddish Brown
Fur Color: Light Grey
Vocation: Unknown

Physical Appearance: A thin wolf with steel grey fur and reddish grey eyes - more than once compared to rusting metal (which is often then compared to his mind.) Despite the fact that he is six feet tall, he is not a very imposing figure by himself - he does have muscles to him, though, but not enough to make him anything remarkable. He is rather drawn overall. He is often describes as Death in his customary garb, and is typically avoided.

Personality: As a saying goes, "The eyes are the gateway to the mind." People often say that Silas's mind is as rusty as his eyes. He is typically unpredictable, unconventional, peculiar, and increasingly erratic.

He is incorrigibly eccentric in everything he does, and is often sarcastic when he speaks - which is in a slight, perhaps affected, Mazan accent (one could imagine a Zoro accent, yes?) He's cold to people in general, sometimes even harsh,. One could easily say that he is proud and self-assured, although he knows he can fail and has done so in the past. On occasion, he won't even acknowledge other's presences.

If he ever has friends, though - real friends - he is loyal to them, disregarding his personal safety for them, as seen in the incident in Rennes (in Domus.)

On a side note, he has a very low pain tolerance. He also tries to avoid combat when possible.

Apologetically, His Very Long but Somehow Brief Biography:
If you ask somone who Silas told about his life, that person will tell you a rather fantastic story which has been described as a "likely mendacity" or of "exceedingly questionable veracity." It typically follows as such:

"The first thing he - Silas, if that's actually his name - said he remembers clearly is waking up in a castle, apparently after being wrenched from being comatose in the clutches of death by a very powerful spell. Most think that his mind was most likely damaged in the process - no one really knows what happened to him, but his mind is damaged in any case... so I'd think that's probably what did it to him.

"He said he was the son of blacksmith. The village, was, apparently, destroyed in a battle between and noble's knights and a group of bandits who had occupied the village. During the battle for the village, the chief of the bandits killed Silas's father for defying him. Silas was said to have then killed the chief with a scythe from his father's smithy. Silas was supposedly named "god's avenging angel" afterwards by the village's priest. The leader's death won the battle for the knights, but the village was burnt in the retreat and Silas was badly wounded in the process.

"The very powerful noble, who had paid quite a bit for Silas to be healed, now had Silas serve in his household as a 'servant of obligation.' That was a euphemism for 'slave' and Silas knew it.

"There was never really any reason that the noble should have saved Silas's life, but he did. Silas always hated him, even though most of the people in the kingdom respected the noble as one of the greatest men in the country, only under the king. But there was always friction, and Silas attempted escapes on more than one occasion, each successive attempt eroding his living condition until he was lower than the lowest, beaten slave.

"To make a long story short, several years later, the noble tired of his unruly slave and Silas was sold to another master. The 'wolf' changed hands several times over the next year or so.

"He eventually escaped (he never told me exactly how he managed it) and then ran to the ruins of his old village. He spent days wandering around it without much of a purpose. In the middle of the third day there, he found a rusty scythe laying in the field that used to be the street, outside a burnt smithy.

"Certain this was the weapon he was said to have used, he picked it up and then ran to Edwin, somehow escaping patrols sent to capture or kill him."

The truth of that tale might be disputed, and none can deny that Silas, as always, remains shrouded by an odd mystery. Some say that he was one of the rebels and was captured and enslaved. Some other rumors hint at a religious incident in Maze. But, such rumors, however plausible they might seem, don't have many more facts to help them than the original story does.

He can currently be found in the most random of places, seeming always to be hunting necromancers - Vedicus, in particular. The drive to kill these undead magicians appears to be the single driving force in his life, although his motives for this are entirely unknown.

He is often seen in libraries and ruins when not hunting.

Weapons: The old (polished and cleaned, however) scythe that he seldom uses, a shortsword, and his teeth. He can use all three with some skill.

Typical Outfit: He wears a black hooded cloak most of the time. Underneath, he wears a grey tunic with a black vest leather armor overtop of it. He also wears similar gauntlets. He has a belt of rather different leather, somewhat more brown, (he took it from a highwayman who had the misfortune to meet him) that he keeps his shortsword attached to. He wears two steel rings near the base of his right ear and a small silver bauble of some kind from his left. Apparently to remind himself of the anguish he suffered as a slave, he wears a black collar around his neck, with the symbol of Mixcoatl hanging from a ring in the front. It appears he holds onto the memories of when he suffered to strengthen him to strengthen his resolve. Most who don't really know him claim he is Death and some even say the devil. He will shrug off the former claim with a smile whilst he will violently deny the latter. He seems to enjoy people speculating about him in any case.

Magic: He apparently knows light magic with great skill; however, his usage of this ability is rather... eccentric. Most say that his mind is broken, as as such, his magic is subtly different than most others' magic. It should be noted that most magic used near him causes him a great deal of mental pain, presumably because of the damaged caused to his mind by the spell that woke him up. This makes his abilities as a mage extremely unreliable. (The times when his mind is functioning somewhat normally are when he can use the magic, although these circumstances are completely out of his control. Sometimes extreme stress causes him use magic, but he feels the effects immediately afterwards, resulting in a less than good situation.) He prefers his sword or teeth if the circumstances come to fighting - which he usually avoids.

Other Equipment: Silas typically carries a bag around with him, slung over one shoulder. He carries verious odd and ends in it, nothing much of importance or use.

Weaknesses (in case you didn't catch my subtle hintings): Low pain threshold. Most magic causes him extraordinary amount of pain, even if it is friendly magic used nearby. Proud. Does not work in teams.

Strengths (above comment): Can use powerful magic on odd and rare occaisons. He's loyal. And scary. Is that even a strength?

Goals Largely unknown, seems to answer in some way to someone higher, refers to his "mission" or "task." Most likely a secret bounty hunter who is commisioned to hunt necromancers, as he is often searching them out. He is also interested in history, ancient artifacts, and the like.

Appearances:
(By In-Character Chronology)
Trouble in Paradise
Little by Little, the Mist Clears
Home Again, Home Again

--- UPDATE ---
During an encounter with the rat necromancer Vedicus, (in "Little by Little, the Mist Clears," now archived) Silas was infected with a disease that appears to be very hard to cure, if not impossible. It was mentioned by a magician that there is a healer that resides in Gawain who is supposedly able to accomplish the task, but Silas made no indications of traveling there before he disappeared minutes after being infected.

RabidFox · Posted: Sat Jul 25, 2009 7:38 pm Post subject: Madame: Prince Willis Bree

And now for something completely different...!

Medieval Character

Name: Willis “Twitchy” Bree
Age: 10
DOB and Place of Birth: February 29th in Durango, Maze
Gender: Male
Race: Rodent/Mouse
Occupation: Ruling Prince of Maze

Appearance: Willis is nothing like his father, mother, brothers or sister. While they are all relatively good-looking, if nothing spectacular, the youngest of the Bree royal line is a rail-thin mouse with ragged brown and white fur that seems to come out in clumps at the slightest tug. He has a tendency to jerk his tail about and wring his paws when he’s nervous (which is most of the time), hence the nickname of “Twitchy” which his elder siblings bestowed upon him. His muddy brown eyes also dart to and fro leading some to question whether his mind is quite all there. Willis comes in about average height given his age.

For clothing, he wears whatever he is given, which usually means clothing that is too big for his thin frame that inevitably makes him look even smaller than he really is. Being that Maze isn’t a particularly rich country, his garb isn’t quite as fancy as the other royalties, but it is still nice to look at over all.

Willis’ only constant accessory is a small Kahunian pack given to him the first time he went out of Maze with his parents to attend the feast of a prominent lizard noble who found him ‘funny’ when he tried to communicate with the hand-gestures he used with his family. The pack always contains blank scrolls/parchment in addition to quills and ink. Willis uses writing to communicate mainly as most do not understand his gesture language. His paw-writing is a bit difficult to read, though. There is usually a book in the pack, as well.

Picture: Willis

Personality: Not king material is the short description of Willis Bree. Not only is he ungroomed in the physical sense, his princely schooling has been altogether ignored in favor of his siblings because no one wants to take the time to teach a mute child. The palace is scrambling to correct this oversight now that he is next in line for the throne once he comes of age, but it’s a trying process given the young prince’s mind has a tendency to wander during his lessons plus communication being difficult. However, despite his tutors’ frustration, Willis is an excellent student. He shows aptitude (to greater and lesser degrees) in almost all his subjects (excluding etiquette and diplomacy) and has a particular talent in the arcane arts.

Even before he had to worry about being king, Willis had some trouble making friends with anyone his age, even the servants’ children looked on him with disdain as they were forced to include him in games. This told on the child’s psyche and he is more at home with his numerous imaginary friends than any furs in the real world because they don't ‘understand’ him.

Bio: When King Adrian Bree was assassinated, everyone expected Queen Esmeralda to take over. If not her, then the noble Prince Felipe, first born son of the Bree line. If not him, then the wise Princess Laura, the beautiful daughter with eyes like emeralds. In the worst case scenario, it was expected the kingdom would pass to the artistic Prince Lucas. What no one expected was for all five to get killed off in one fell swoop leaving the youngest son, Prince Willis, as the only other heir to the throne.

Up until that point, few even knew that the fourth of the Bree siblings existed because his parents preferred he be kept out of sight where he could do less damage to their credibility with his appearance and inability to speak. When Willis was first born, he wasn’t even expected to last long as the healers thought he was too weak to even cry. He did survive and grew up to be an embarrassing reminder that even the best families have their black sheep.

Currently, the young prince is struggling to be understood and understand why events in the wider world are affecting his country so poorly.

Religious Ideology: Willis isn’t quite old enough to understand why religion matters in kingdom politics, but he was raised under the ideals of the Trinidian Church and generally accepts them.

Favorite Color: Brown
Favorite Food: Cheesecake
Sexual Orientation: ?
Status: ?
Musical Abilities: Can play the lute, though he’s no prodigy.
Magical Abilities: Shows great potential, especially in the elements of Earth and Fire.
_________________
"Anything good in life is either illegal, immoral, or fattening." - Murphy's Law

RabidFox · Posted: Sat Jul 25, 2009 7:42 pm Post subject: Zeru: Aros

Or maybe I can't. Ah well, I suppose I'll find out soon!

Name: Aros
Gender: Male
Age: Unknown
Motives: Questionable
Occupation: Thief / being 2 kool 4 skool
Species: Cacomistle
Personality: In one word, Aros is... Aros. There's no other way to sum up that much crazies. Actually, he's not crazy. Most people would describe him as "flamboyant," "out there," and "that asshat that stole my wallet... twice." He very rarely resorts to physical violence, mostly because his actions are 'covert.' Though, his relentless tauntings have made quite a few people in the past start to throw punches.

History: Well, since Aros wouldn't tell you his history, I decided I wouldn't either. But more on things that happen in his everyday life. Aros, being a cacomistle, just loves shiney things. Loves. Oftentimes, his targets are rare jewels and priceless metals. Where do the end up? Usually adorning his lithe body in some way. Though, occasionally, it's possible to get him to trade off some of his pieces for housing, food, or just other jewels. When in kingdoms with high security, however, most of his jewelry is hidden away for safety.
_________________
"Anything good in life is either illegal, immoral, or fattening." - Murphy's Law

RabidFox · Posted: Sat Jul 25, 2009 8:28 pm Post subject: Madame: Ikeda Rin

A word of caution to this tale...Rin's Bio is rather long and it's actually a story rather than a biography. You needn't read it unless you're curious as to what she's like on the rare occasions that her avian heritage comes to the forefront or who some of the characters are that work for her.

Medieval Character

Name: Ikeda Rin
Nicknames: Hanshi-san (coming from han for “half” and shippo for “tail”; would translate roughly to Ms. Halftail)
Age: 124 (looks late-30s)
DOB and Place of Birth: October 3rd in Sendai, Yamaha
Gender: Female
Race: Mustelid/Japanese Sable (44%) - Feline/Asian Tiffanie (50%) - Skin Avian/Osprey (6%)
Occupation: Underworld Kingpin

Appearance: Rin wears a traditional rice-farmer’s straw hat that almost never comes off along with what seem to be uncomfortable wooden sandals that she’s actually quite agile in. Her favorite outfit consists of an open black coat with gold trim -- used for hiding her various shuriken -- loose burgundy pants held up by a gold sash and off-white bandages wrapped around chest. Her sword, Denkouissen (Flash of Lightning), is usually in its gold and burgundy sheath at her right side, but when out, it boasts an impressive black blade that is nearly half Rin’s own height.

Being a boss in a criminal ring, Rin has earned several nicknames, most of which aren’t complementary, but the one that has the greatest circulation is “Hanshi-san” due to her short tail in comparison to her feline face. No one has dared to call her this to her face, but she’s aware that it exists and has threatened to kill anyone who dares call her it to her face.

Finally, Rin’s odd fur pattern and unnaturally long life are due to her avian heritage, though she’s never gone out of her way to say anything about it. She’s rather ashamed of that part of her heritage, in fact, and does her best to suppress it which leads to rare bouts of destructive rage

Picture: Rin

Personality: Rin has a rather unpredictable temperament. She can talk about dire matters with a grin and giggle and seconds later switch to dead serious. The hybrid also possesses a rather phenomenal temper when her playful demeanor is overcome as well as an occasional lust for blood that may be satiated by cutting those around her or herself. In the main, though, her feline and musteline sides manage to suppress these urges and Rin appears as a collected, perhaps overly mysterious creature. She has had very few friends throughout her elongated life span, but many acquaintances that she treats with politeness and even what may appear to be kindness. In actuality, she’s a manipulative thing who often uses those who trust her as pawns to fulfill her own goals, though, often she and her pawns are aiming for the same goal and so they continue to trust her.

One other thing of note; Rin collects vases from all over the world and has an extensive collection in her family’s shrine in Sendai -- the base of operations for her criminal activities.

Ideology: Everything has a price and death is the great equalizer.

Favorite Color: Gold
Favorite Food: Fish
Sexual Orientation: Asexual
Status: She’s given up on romantic relationships at the moment.
Musical Abilities: Plays the Biwa (looks a bit like a four-string guitar) and sings with moderate skill
Magic Abilities: Wind Sage and Water Mage with moderate skills in the other elements.

Bio:

“I wouldn’t go in there if I was you, itachi-tan.(1)” The weasel who had been about to knock on the heavy wooden door paused and looked over to where two creatures, a snow leopard and a mutt of some sort were sitting Indian-style and playing Yamahan-checkers. The mutt was clearly winning, but it had been the leopard who’d spoken. “Ikeda-sama’s in one of her…moods.”

The weasel blushed furiously at having been addressed so, but his curiosity (and his knowledge of who these peculiar creatures were) over came his desire to lop off the impolite feline’s head. “Ito-teichou, Miyake-teichou,(2)” the weasel bowed to the leopard and mutt respectively. “Abarai Jiro reporting in from surveillance of the west quarter. I was told to report directly to Ikeda-sama by Tomori-teichou.”

“I wouldn’t go in there either, Abarai-san,” Miyake Sanjuro muttered as he moved one of his pieces after careful consideration. “You must be new not to know what Ito-teichou means by Ikeda-sama’s moods.”

“I was told very specifically by Tom--”

“I don’t care if ya were told by the Empress, itachi-tan,” Ito Hideki snorted as he moved recklessly to counter his opponent. “Unless ya want yer hea…” he paused as if considering something, then an unpleasant leer split his maw. “On second thought, if it’s so urgent, why don’t ya head on in, Abarai-tan.”

“Ito--” Sanjuro began sharply, but was cut off.

“Don’t be so up tight, Miyake-teichou,” Hideki waved a thin paw at the dog in disinterest. “If Abarai-tan needs t'see Ikeda-sama right this instant, then he should do it. Isn’t that right, Abarai-tan?”

Jiro glared at the feline who had attained the rank of captain, then nodded briefly. “An order is an order. Tomori-teichou said ‘immediately’ and I must obe--Hey!” The mustelid fumbled awkwardly and managed to keep a grip on the key the snow leopard had just thrown at him.

“Go ahead an' open it up, Abarai-tan,” the Cheshire-grin of the big cat was enough to give the thin weasel pause. He glanced over at the canine who was glowering at his fellow captain. “Go on. The lock’s right there,” the leopard taunted. “Can’t ya even turn a key, Abarai-tan? Isn’t this an urgent report?”

Sighing and knowing somehow he was going to regret this, Jiro stuffed the key into the lock and twisted it until an ominous clunk indicated it was unlocked. The weasel gulped, gathered his resolve, gave another short nod to each captain and stepped inside, closing the door carefully behind himself.

Hideki rose, locked the door from the outside and returned to his seat before addressing his disapproving companion. “What, Juro-kun?” the leopard snickered. “That idiot was askin' for it an' now he’ll learn what I meant by Hanshi-san’s moods.”

“If he’s alive after this, Hide-kun,” the dog growled. “You just sent an ignorant child into the lion’s den.”

“Yare yare…(3)” Hideki raised his arms in mock-exasperation. “Callin' out the racial slurs now, Juro-kun?”

“AAAAAAHHHHH!” the dog and cat barely spared a glance for the door from which the heart-wrenching scream had just emanated. It was followed closely by a shriek of feral delight and the sound of many somethings breaking.

“Ayah…” the feline sighed. “I told her she needs t'stop fillin' her room with those vases she’s so fond of. One of these days she’s gonna break one that’s irreplaceable an' really fly off the hand--”

“FOR THE LOVE OF AAAGGGHHH--!” Both captains did jump this time as the heavy door flexed outward, hinges grating noisily in disapproval, as a barrage of panicked blows hit from the other side. Each grabbed for his weapon and they were on their feet in seconds. The screams had stopped, though.

“Kuso!(4)” Hideki growled and cast a fleeting glance at his Sanjuro. All noise on the other side of the door had ceased. “If she gets out again…We only jist finished trainin' the brats from the last time! He?!(5)”

“Open the door, kon’aro!(6)” A voice neither masculine nor feminine, but terrifying nonetheless, snarled from the other side of the door. “Or do you want me to kill this gaki?!(7)”

Hideki moved automatically to obey, but Sanjuro grabbed his arm before he could put the key in the lock. The mutt shook his head emphatically, then turned his attention to the door. “What’s our guarantee that you won’t come after us if we open the door, Ikeda-sama?”

“Is that you, Juro-kun?” Ikeda Rin laughed humorlessly in her self-imposed prison. “I thought I heard Ito-kun yelling, so really, who else could it be? I don’t suppose there’s any guarantee I can offer, Juro-kun,” the hybrid continued. “You’ll just have to take my word for it.” The mutt and snow leopard both shivered.

“Ikeda-san,” Hideki began urgently, “is that weasel really alive?”

“I don’t know,” Rin replied nonchalantly. “Why don’t ya come an’ see, Ito-tan? G’on. The lock’s right thare,” she drawled in an exaggerated version of the big cat’s southern Yamahan accent. “Can’t ya even turn a key, Ito-tan? Isn’t this ah urgent matter?”

“Toshima!(8)” the leopard hissed through bared teeth.

“Calm down, Hide-kun,” the mutt advised. “She’s not herself, you know.”

“‘Calm down! Calm down!’” the femme laughed maniacally. “No time to calm down, Juro-kun, not if you want itachi-kun(1) to live. I can see his eyes going blank, you know? It’s wonderful.”

“If he’s at that point, Ikeda-sama,” Sanjuro sheathed the blade he had taken out, “then it’s better that he die. You’ll end up hating us more for letting you out than for not saving Abarai-san when you’re back to normal so--”

“Urusai!Urusai tte yande!(9)” Rin cut in. “I’m the boss! I said open this door and so help me if you don’t…!” she let the threat hang for a moment.

“If we don’t you’ll thank us later,” the canine finished with a sigh. “Come on Hide-kun, let’s finish our game. There’s no reasoning with a berserker.” There was no coherent reply, the door started to tremble again as the hybrid threw herself against it screaming obscenities that would have made the most seasoned sailor blush.

“Ano(10)…at least she’s not like this most of the time,” Hideki reasoned as he reseated himself across from Sanjuro. “But eesh! What’s wrong with her anyway? Ya’ve known her longer Juro-kun. Has she always been like this?”

“Un(11),” the mutt shrugged and moved one of his pieces. “I don’t know why, but I remember her sister and father were the same way, though I was only a pup when they took me in. And…” Sanjuro cupped a paw under his chin thoughtfully, “they all had strange fur patterns. Like the markings you’d see on a skin avian.”

“Wait, did ya just say they took ya in as a pup?” Hideki’s brow furrowed as he took his turn. “But yer older than Hanshi-san, aren’t ya?”

“Come to think of it…” another drawn out pause, “she looked the same when I first met her.”

“He(5)? And ya didn’t think that was strange?” the big cat demanded. “That our boss hasn’t aged a day since ya met her thirty years ago?!”

“I suppose it is…” Sanjuro replied in the same thoughtful tone. “I win.”

“Nani(12)?!” Hideki stared at the board for a moment in disbelief then pointed an accusing finger at his fellow captain. “No fair! Ya distracted me with yer story 'bout Hanshi-san. I want a do over!”

There was a particularly vicious attack on the wooden door and Sanjuro nodded vaguely resetting the pieces. “That’s not a problem, Hide-kun…it’s going to be a long night.”

(1) Little weasel
(2) Captain Ito, Captain Miyake
(3) My goodness/Hey, hey
(4) Dammit
(5) Huh?
(6) You bastard
(7) Brat
(8) Old hag
(9) Shut up! Shut up, god dammit!
(10) Well…
(11) Yeah
(12) What?!
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"Anything good in life is either illegal, immoral, or fattening." - Murphy's Law

RabidFox

Ikeda Rin’s Captains (Medieval)

Pics: Eiri, Mai, Hide, and Juro
Rin, Hide, and Juro - By Todd

Name - Miyake Sanjuro
Species - Canine/Mutt
Age - 39
Gender - Male
Division to Oversee - Defensive Corps/Administrative Duties
Weapon(s) - A wakizashi named Hogosha (“Guardian”) as well as a tessen (a metal folding fan that is easily disguised as a common folding fan) and a jutte (an iron truncheon).
Magical Ability - Wind Sage and Water Mage with minor skills in the other elements.

Physical Description - Average is the best way to describe Sanjuro. He’s average in height, weight and muscle mass, though he is built more as a runner than weightlifter. Several scars decorate his body, but a thick coat of white, tan and brown fur covers most of them. His eyes are dark brown tending to black in all but the brightest of light. He has pointed ears, though the left is cropped due to an accident involving a blood-thirsty Ikeda Rin and her katana. The mutt is commonly found in a plain white kimono and divided hakama of varying colors along with tabi socks and tatami sandals. On his left sleeve, he sports the mark of a captain, a simple red armband with the Yamahan character for captain stitched on it in white.

Mental Description - Sanjuro is a born tactician along with second-in-command. He’s good at planning and carrying out orders, though he has a bit of trouble giving them as he’s perceived as something of a softie. By no means easy to walk over, the mutt still has the air of a fur who always gives second chances, but it also makes him likeable enough that most don’t go out of their way to cross him. He speaks slowly, not because he can’t think of words fast enough, but because he wants to convey an idea in the clearest way possible the first time.

History within Yakuza - Sanjuro started young in the Ikeda yakuza. He was taken in at the age of nine when Rin, then in her mid-90s and on an errand for her father, found him wandering about the streets of Sendai one day, apparently a runaway from a nearby village. When asked about his past, the young mutt said nothing, mainly because he felt there wasn’t much to tell. He’d hated his parents who treated like a slave and so left.

He found a new home among the Ikedas as Ikeda Katsuo, then leader of the yakuza, liked his fur and thought the child a worthwhile investment. He found the boy sharp and well-spoken for one of his age and set his twin daughters, Rin and Wren the task of minding him. Sanjuro grew closer to Rin as time passed as she was the most outspoken of the pair and Wren was often ill. Eventually, Katsuo died, Rin had Wren sent away so she didn’t have to share power or assassinate her sister and Sanjuro was placed on the fast track for captaincy at 21-years-old. He and Rin had a brief flirtation, but it never progressed as they looked on each other as siblings.

At 25 with the loss of the previous captain in a trading mission, Sanjuro was made a full captain in charge of the Battle Corps and Primary Fighters. He proved himself a capable fighter, though he focused more on defensive fighting in his days as the captain of the Battle Corps than on offense. This earned him the title of the “weakest” captain that he still carries today. At the age of 30, he was transferred to administrative duties (as well as serving as Ikeda Rin’s personal body guard) and was allowed to put together a new corps of defensive fighters focused mainly on tactical planning and strategy. That year, Ito Hideki joined the Ikeda yakuza and was assigned to the mutt’s corps. The two became friends and Sanjuro put in a good word for him when another captaincy opened. Rin heeded her “little brother” and assigned Hideki to the Healing Corps to be in charge of the Magical Fighters.

~+~+~+~

Name - Ito Hideki
Species - Feline/Snow Leopard
Age - 27
Gender - Male
Division to Oversee - Healing Corps/Magical Fighters
Weapon(s) - A nagimaki named Chikara (“Strength”) with the magical ability to burn whatever it cuts.
Magical Ability - Is an archsage with high-level abilities in Water, Light, Fire, Wind and Earth along with moderate skill in Dark and Ice magic.

Physical Description - Hideki is built for high altitudes and cold climates. He has a fine barrel-shaped chest, broad shoulders, stocky legs and large paws. All in all, he resembles a wrestler and if not taking into account that most of his extra size is due to muscle, he might be considered fat. His fur is the common black, silver and white coloring of one of his species and his eyes are a clear sky blue. He has a few scars, but nothing terribly noticeable as his healing abilities allow him to regenerate quickly. There are two prominent notches, one in each ear that are a product of Ikeda Rin ripping out the earrings he once had in one of her berserker phases. The leopard did not have time to worry about healing his ears at that moment and it wasn’t until much later when the wound had set that he got around the healing his ears. Since then, Hideki has never worn earrings. Taking after his best friend Sanjuro, the snow leopard is to be found in a plain white kimono and various-colored divided hakama with tabi socks and tatami sandals on his large feet. He wears the captain’s armband on his left sleeve.

Mental Description - While his face may suggest a burly old fellow who has seen many fights and is wise and experienced, Hideki’s personality is more akin to a 17-year-old female most of the time. He loves to gossip, being the center of attention and making others look like fools, is prone to sulking when he doesn’t get his way, and is known to get back at those who wrong him through the spread of malicious rumors rather than simply beating them up. The leopard is well aware that his appearance is so contrary to his actual demeanor, but he considers it an advantage because it means that most leave him alone and obey him without much question if they don’t know him. He has a deep, warm voice to go along with his looks and enjoys singing when anyone is playing an instrument. He’s the resident Captain Heartthrob for the female yakuza and has little difficulty in securing company whenever he wishes for it. Hideki speaks with a slight drawl as he comes from the southern area of Yamaha and it is often made fun of by Ikeda Rin.

History within Yakuza - Traveling from Saga, several weeks away from Sendai, Hideki decided to join the Ikeda yakuza after seeing them in action in his area. Formerly a farmhand, the leopard was taught the use of a blade and subsequently magic, at which he excelled. After receiving a good word from his then captain, Miyake Sanjuro, the leopard was named captain of the Healing Corps and Magical Fighters. He is excellent at what he does and as well as being known as the heartthrob he is also thought to be the most physically powerful captain.

~+~+~+~

Name - Usagi Eiri
Species - Lapine/Rabbit
Age - 34
Gender - Male
Division to Oversee - Battle Corps/Primary Fighters
Weapon(s) - A katana named Tsumeze (“Chill Breeze”) with the magical ability to freeze what it cuts and a wakizashi named Hayaigin (“Quick Silver”) with the magical ability to electrify what it cuts.
Magical Ability - Sage in both Ice and Wind with minor skills in the other magics.

Physical Description - Eiri is long and lean, built for speed. He’s not the most physically powerful of the captains, but is a close second to Tomori Mai for swiftness. He is a lop-eared, brown rabbit with prominent, hazel eyes that have the disturbing habit of staring through a creature rather than at him. He sports numerous scars, most on his forearms, though they are minor and mostly covered by fur. His headfur is long and tied back out of the way using a red scarf with the captain’s mark. He wears a black kimono and hakama at all times. Incidentally, Eiri is the only captain not to have been physically abused and scarred in some way by Ikeda Rin.

Mental Description - The rabbit is as cold as his daisho. Eiri is a quiet fellow who relies on the members of his corps being intelligent enough to gather meaning from a silent stare rather than a lengthy explanation. It’s not that he doesn’t like to speak, just that he finds it a waste of time. He’s on par with Sanjuro for strategic planning capability, but he lacks the dog’s finesse in explaining his plans in a way that makes them sound good rather than something anyone could figure out. Thus, he focuses on training the rank and file yakuza.

History within Yakuza - Eiri’s ascent to captaincy was a slow one. He was born in Sendai and joined the yakuza at a very young age under the reign of Ikeda Katsuo. Starting out as little more than an errand boy, he was able to get the yakuza to train him by offering to do them favors of the plain and unsavory variety alike and eventually became skilled with a sword. When Katsuo died and Ikeda Rin rose to power, the rabbit was little more than white noise on the hybrid’s radar. He distinguished himself when he won a sword-fighting competition and further gained fame within the yakuza after rooting out a traitor from a rival village in their ranks. At last being acknowledged for his abilities, Rin gave the rabbit the position of captain when Miyake Sanjuro was transferred to administrative work.

~+~+~+~

Name - Tomori Mai
Species - Ailuridae/Red Panda
Age - 25
Gender - Female
Division to Oversee - Stealth Corps/Shuriken Fighters
Weapon(s) - Various, unnamed shuriken and a set of cat claws (metal spikes set in gloves) that are tipped with a paralyzing agent.
Magical Ability - Wind Sage with minor to moderate skills in the other magics.

Physical Description - Mai is a typical red panda so far as coloring goes, which makes her job a bit difficult on occasion. Her eyes are golden brown and her right paw is missing the middle finger, chopped off by Ikeda Rin in a show of power and dominance. She is small, light, the fastest of the captains and is second only to Rin herself in the entire yakuza. While she is physically weaker than Sanjuro, she is seen as stronger by most when accounting for her size and gender. The panda keeps her headfur short as it is more convenient and wears her captain’s mark as a bandanna, though given her role in stealth her bandanna is predominantly dark green with a small circle of red with the white character stitched inside. The rest of her garb is a similar dark green as it is better suited for the sprawling forests of Yamaha than stereotypically black clothes. She wears a form-fitting suit of silk as it does not create as much noise when it rustles and dark jika-tabi socks that allow her to move almost noiselessly. A utility belt is commonly found about her waist and holds a majority of her shuriken, along with her cat claws and a grappling hook if necessary. She also wears a strap-on holder around her left leg that holds some extra shuriken.

Mental Description - A boisterous young lady prone to disrespecting authority and charming boys out of their pocket money, Mai is a typical 20-something female from a family of six brothers (one older and five younger) and one very distraught father. Born in the east of Yamaha in the Nikko shinobi village, the only thing the young red panda ever wanted to do was be a shinobi like her mother and elder brother (her father was a potter), and so went at it. She is a determined sort and was able to become a full-fledged shinobi even before her elder brother. Her tongue is sharp and she’s lucky she hasn’t lost it yet, but she does have a good heart. She cares for children and anyone who reminds her of her little brothers is treated with extra kindness. Unlike most of the other females in the yakuza, Mai finds Ito Hideki repugnant…probably because she actually knows him for the gossip-monger he is.

History within Yakuza - Mai joined the Sendai yakuza along with several other creatures from her village when an agent of the Ikeda yakuza came recruiting. Leaving behind her loved ones, she was whisked away to quickly ascend through the ranks of the Stealth Corps before becoming its captain around the same time Usagi Eiri became captain of the Battle Corps. Mai and Eiri are as close to friends as the rabbit lets anyone get and as a result, they are often to be found hanging about one another and exchanging ideas.
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"Anything good in life is either illegal, immoral, or fattening." - Murphy's Law

RabidFox · Posted: Sat Jul 25, 2009 8:31 pm Post subject: Madame: Sascha Gottschalk

Age of Steam Character

Name: Sascha Gottschalk
Age: 34
DOB and Place of Birth: September 6th in Gillian, Gawain
Gender: Male
Race: Mustelid/Piriqui Clawless Otter
Occupation: Hot Air Balloonist

Appearance: Sascha is a big clawless otter weighing in at an impressive 208 lbs. (most of it muscle) and standing 5’10” high. With such a mass, it would seem odd for him to be ballooning, but his endless fascination with balloons stems from their amazing ability to easily support his weight when the right amount of heat is applied to the gases inside. His big size also means that he builds larger baskets by default that appeal to tourists more than the cramped baskets of other balloonists. The mustelid has a pair of unobtrusive dark brown eyes and average fur coloring -- dark brown and cream on his cheeks, throat and belly.

His clothing isn’t particularly interesting to look at, but efficient for one of his profession. Sascha wears a white collared, button-down, long-sleeve shirt, often with the sleeves rolled up with a set of overalls and a black equipment belt over it. He wears thick leather gloves to protect his paws and the fact that they aren’t fully webbed (or even mostly webbed) like a majority of otters is a benefit when it comes to fitting his gloves. On his head he wears a Gawanian Military hat acquired some time ago from his late brother, Dirk. Most assume it means he was a veteran or supported the War, but Sascha is quick (and eager) to correct them. Last, but not least, he wears durable black boots that reach midway up his calves and wears his long hearfur pulled back in a ponytail.

Picture: Sascha and Liam WIP

Personality: Sascha identifies as a Gawanian and subsequently ignores the origin point of his particular sub-species of otter in the Territory of the Ravens. His family made the move from that area hundreds of years ago and as such, much of the rich tribal culture associated with the Piriqui has been lost. Still, his family retains a particular gift for magic that is special to natives of the Territory. This special ability makes Sascha something of a born seeker of attention. As a young child he craved attention and acquired it in the negative sense by causing “trouble” at his boarding school. Later as a young adult, he led protests against the Great War and now in his middle adulthood, the otter will never refuse a challenge even if he’s guaranteed to lose.

As an otter, Sascha’s first love is, of course, the water, but his father exposed him to flying early and it became a close contender for the lakes and ponds the boy spent his youth paddling about in during the summers. Sascha is a fine hot air balloonist and takes pride in his work. There is one other great love of his life, though this one did not come along until he was in his mid-20’s when his son, Liam was born. Sascha is a loving father and while he and his wife are divorced and she is living with another they still get along and Sascha carries a grudging respect for the fellow who is mostly raising his son.

Bio: Born 4 years before the Great War started to a wealthy family in the commercial ballooning business, Sascha Gottschalk barely missed being drafted during the end years of the war. The family wasn’t quite wealthy enough, by Victorian standards, to dodge the draft completely, though, and his brothers, Dirk and Julian, twins five years his senior, were sent to the front lines. While Sascha attended boarding school in the cold north-west of Gawain where few battles were occurring, his brothers fought Edwinians in some of the more famous battles of the time. The otter twins returned home from their first tours of duty battle scarred and shell shocked. Sascha, just returning from his first year of private schooling at the age of 13, as well, was horrified by the change wrought in his once playful older brothers and began researching the causes and issues surrounding the War. What he found disgusted him.

Everything about the War he read in Gawain claimed it was Edwin who was responsible for the eventual declaration of war, but reading the first paw accounts of what had set events into motion, it seemed that it was Gawain’s ambition for territorial gain that prompted the conflict. Edwin was no innocent bystander, of course. The Cat Country had abandoned diplomacy almost immediately seeing an opportunity to put Gawain in its place once and for all.

Armed with this knowledge, the young otter returned to school and began the Pro-Peace Club to protest the War. Few joined and those that did, along with Sascha himself were called unpatriotic and periodically harassed; many of the students at the school, like Sascha himself, had brothers or fathers on the front lines so they felt their fellow mustelid was attacking them. The teachers did little to stop the abuse until an incident occurred where two of the Pro-Peace boys was tarred and feathered by the other students leaving them severely burned and one of them half blind. The club was shortly disbanded under the excuse that it was causing violence at the school, but Sascha was determined to continue his resistance openly and notoriously. With only two others by his side, Sascha and the remnants of the Pro-Peace Club continued to demonstrate and put up posters around school.

During his second tour of duty, and Sascha’s final year of boarding school, Julian was mistakenly killed in a case of friendly fire and Dirk, unable to accept the death of his twin basically committed suicide two months later when he charged a heavily defended trench through a minefield. Julian’s body was sent home in a casket…there wasn’t enough of Dirk to send home so the Gottschalks received his dogtag, hat and dress uniform. The twins received military burials, Dirk obtaining a posthumous commendation for bravery and Julian receiving nothing because his death had been a meaningless accident.

Incensed by the way the War had destroyed two of brightest lights in his family, both in spirit and now in body, Sascha finished school and joined a peaceful anti-war organization known as the ‘Anti-War Coalition’ in Edwinian and the ‘Antikriegkoalition’ (AKK) in Gawanian, instead of taking over the family business like his father had hoped he would. In the ranks, he met and became enamored with another otter activist named Corinna Engel. In the three years they spent protesting the War, Sascha courted and eventually bedded Corinna. The first time, she conceived a child, and a little boy they named Liam was born to unmarried parents, though Corinna graciously gave the boy’s legal name as Liam Gottschalk rather than Liam Engel.

With a child to take care of, Corinna limited her activities in the AKK and focused on better paying jobs with support from Sascha who in turn was receiving support from his parents who did not approve of his activities, but still funded them. A year after Liam was born, Sascha was arrested in a conspiracy plot to assassinate a Gawanian general and found guilty along with three other top AKK members. None of the accused were guilty, but none received a fair trial either and they were sent to prison for ten years.

During his time behind bars, Corinna brought Liam every week so Sascha could see his son. Eventually, two years into his sentence, she told him she’d decided to marry an otter by the name of Andrew Bauer to give Liam a real father and to help support them. Sascha knew it had been coming, but it still hurt when she said it. From that point on, Liam and Corinna’s visits included Andrew, a fellow who, under different circumstances, Sascha had to admit he would have liked. The slim shop-owner was clever and kind with a love of numbers that he shared with Liam, who adored ‘Uncle Andy’.

Sascha’s remaining years in prison were spent taking stock of his life and when he was finally released after six years on good behavior (not to mention the War had ended and the state did not have the funds to take care of all its prisoners), he returned to his parents’ house for a year before setting up a second branch of his father’s ballooning business two blocks away from where Corinna, Andrew and Liam lived. With such close proximity, the otter was able to visit his son, who by now was eight-years-old, more easily. He began teaching Liam about ballooning and taking him on flights so he could learn the ‘family trade’.

These days, Liam is 11 and regularly goes on flights with Sascha transporting goods and persons to and from nearby cities. Sascha still finds himself a bit jealous of Andrew who lives with his son and the female he still holds feelings for, but Liam’s assurance that “I don’t call him Papa…” is often enough to soothe the big mustelid’s ego.

Religious Ideology: One of the very few mustelids that believes in a deity, Sascha converted to the Domish religion of Adamina while in prison.

Favorite Color: Blue
Favorite Food: Crawfish
Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual
Status: Available, though he isn’t looking.
Magic Abilities: Knows a good deal more Wind and Fire magic than he lets on as his skill level would be considered socially unacceptable anywhere save the Piriqui.
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"Anything good in life is either illegal, immoral, or fattening." - Murphy's Law

RabidFox

My birdy for Todd's character creation contest. Ducks are fun little fellows.=)

Age of Muskets

Name: Gene Saraiva the Earl of Sucre
Age: 41 (looks mid-20s)
DOB and Place of Birth: January 1st in Pará, Maze
Gender: Male
Race: Skin Avian/Comb Duck
Occupation: He claims he is, and shall always be, a student of the Natural Sciences

Appearance: Gene is a relatively young drake with a slim build, though most of his mass is muscle. He is well-tanned given his birthplace and constant outdoor activities. His eyes are a clear sky blue that offsets his darker blue hair which is a spiked mess that he has tried numerous times to slick back with little success. His wings and tail are also of a dark bluish-black color while his facial markings are black and appear as freckles dotted across his cheeks and nose with another large marking in the shape of an upside down triangle extending from his hairline to in between his this eyebrows.
The drake has webbed feet and hands and is just as happy paddling through the water as soaring in the sky. He has a pleasantly rounded face with a prominent nose and well-maintained teeth.
Given he is quite active, Gene a tendency to “under dress” according to the standards of the Edwinish court on a daily basis, though he knows how to dress up when it is necessary. The drake generally wears a loose white shirt covered by a simple tan waistcoat with a navy blue and tan frockcoat over it all and light-brown breeches with white stockings and what look like overly large, black buckled shoes.
The nature of his species makes him, well, duck-footed and he’s not the most graceful of birds, often tripping over his own feet, but jumping up a moment later to carry on. At this point in his life, he still seems to have a boundless supply of energy that allows him to take a fall and come out none the worse for wear.
It should be noted that Gene’s only weapons are his claws and teeth unless one counts the many heavy volumes, quills, paper and ink pots he totes about with him in a large pack.

Personality: There is no denying that Gene is an optimist with a smile almost always hovering about his lips and waiting to be recognized. He is of the mind that research will solve all the world’s problems and that politics do not really have much to do with him despite being the heir of Sucre.
He may come off as a bit wordy or overly technical when he is explaining something to others as he enjoys going in depth into subjects that fascinate him in the natural world. Despite this, he is still an engaging bird and is clever enough to figure out if he is boring someone and redirect the conversation to a broader and more accessible topic.
As he was raised as any gentry in this time period would be, the drake is quite polite, though his regard for social niceties only extends so far as when he is being seen in “society”. When out in the field his genteel manners give way to the enthusiasm of a duckling.

Bio: Born in Pará, Maze to two desperately climbing socialites who happened to be getting nowhere fast in regard to their titles, Gene was raised mainly by his tutors and servants. Even as a child he showed an amazing curiosity in even the most mundane things, which tended to drive his tutors mad if he forced them too much off topic with what they considered to be irrelevant questions. Still, it was clear to everyone that Gene was a bright boy and that with instruction he might gain the favors of the monarchy and bring fame and glory to his family and title.

Unfortunately, even with “proper” instruction, the young bird proved to be too inquisitive for his own good and found himself in the care of the family physician for many months in his childhood for eating the wrong plant or falling out of tree or other such occurrences. He never was a sickly child, just one prone to accident.

At the age of 24, Gene went before the court to ask what service he might be to the King and Queen of Maze. He had interested himself in the natural sciences and tried to share his passion with the court who, while polite, held little real curiosity about the subject matter. Thinking to teach the young idealist about the horrors of the real world, the King asked him to perform a survey of the native plants of Maze’s most densely populated areas.

It took ten years of his life, but Gene dutifully followed through with the request, traveling across Maze with a few choice servants and friends. He had been taught the arts of the sword in brief growing up, but during his travels, the drake witnessed a duel to the death with swords and swore never to lay hand to one again, instead relying on his words and magic (he had by that point found himself wise in the ways of Earth and Water magic) to avoid physical confrontation.

Returning to court with the fruits of his labor, a comprehensive guide to the native species of plants in Maze and where to find them, Gene was rewarded with a small sum of gold along with what would have been the equivalent of a pat on his head in verbal terms as the monarchy sent him on his way with assurance that they would call upon him if ever they had need of one of his particular skills again.

These days, Gene pursues his own interests the world over, exploring and documenting interesting flora and fauna he finds. The drake’s most recent projects have involved discovering how sentient furs and their non-sentient counterparts interact with one another.

Ideology: I can’t provide all the answers, but give me the time, money and means to study the issue and I’ll give you an assessment. I never offer guarantees; I’m not a salesbird and our understanding of nature is constantly evolving so that what may be true to me today is disproved tomorrow.

Favorite Color: Navy Blue
Favorite Food: Fish
Sexual Orientation: ?
Status: ?
Magic Abilities: Water and Earth Sage with moderate skills in the other elements.
_________________
"Anything good in life is either illegal, immoral, or fattening." - Murphy's Law

RabidFox · Posted: Sat Jul 25, 2009 8:33 pm Post subject: Madame: Majid Nasar

And one more character because I saw this picture of a bird while surfing and thought it was the coolest looking thing ever.XD So, here he is and to my knowledge he's the first Beaked One, but I've been wrong before. Also, apologies in advance for the novel-length bio. I just kept coming up with more stuffs.

Medieval Character

Real Name: Majid Nasar
Pseudonym: Maxwell Aveza
Age: 40
Gender: Male
Race: Avian/Secretary Bird
Occupation: None

Appearance: Maxwell is a tall fellow. He stands well over the heads of even most skinned avians at a whopping 6’8”, a product of his species’ heritage. Some of the few birds that exceed the bird’s own height are ostriches and emus, but like secretary birds, they are rare. Maxwell has the average coloring of his species with grayish-blue feathers covering most of his body with a crest of black feathers on his head that he can raise and lower at will along with black on the ends of his wings, tail and thighs. His face is covered with a bright flash of red skin and his good eye is a dark green that appears more black than anything.

Beaked avians don’t wear much in the way of clothing, but Maxwell has taken to wearing a lavender scarf with a silver brooch shaped like a beaked hawk in flight to keep it on. As he lacks hands, Maxwell has a companion (a female mouse named Megan [pronounced: Mee-gahn] Rose) who puts on and removes his scarf when necessary.

Maxwell has a few other distinguishing marks, including an almost vertical scar running over his right eye, keeping it permanently closed. He also has lesser scars decorating the rest of his body, though the only other visible ones are on his legs as the rest are covered by his thick feathers.

Picture: Maxwell

Bio: Maxwell was born “Majid Nasar” in the Territory in the Bear Mountain Mark to Aamina and Latif Nasar, the only two secretary birds in a tribe of mismatched, mostly tropical birds who had found their ways to the Pine Mountains from secluded areas of Yamaha and Kahun. Aamina and Latif were originally from Kahun, but with the secretary bird population dying out, they decided to escape to the Territory of the Ravens in the hopes that whatever chicks they had would be able to grow up without serving as the rite of passage kill for a group of lizard-boys as the members of their old tribe had become.

Being foreigners and being in such a diverse tribe (refugees, really, led by a pair of snowy owls), the Nasars raised their first son, Karim, as they would have in their old country. Around the time that Karim was turning 14, Majid was hatched and because of the huge age difference, the brothers never became close. Karim left the tribe the year Majid turned 6 and Majid did not see him until 10 years later.

Aamina and Latif were devastated by the departure of their elder son and redoubled their efforts with Majid in the hopes of keeping him tied down. They began by educating their youngest son in the ways of the Beaked Ones of this country, but he never took to it well and being born in something of a gap of children, Majid quickly became the “child” of he entire tribe. He was often mischievous and wilder than most of the adults or even adolescents could deal with, but he was loved regardless.

Majid grew up physically, but he never really left his childhood behind in the way that he was “so damn innocent” as some put it. In his fourteenth year, the tribe was camped out near the edge of their mark at the base of Bear Mountain -- it was winter and many of the tropical birds could not stand the colder climes, the Nasars included -- when they were attacked by a neighboring tribe of skinned golden eagles who had claimed part of the Bear Mountain Mark while Majid’s tribe was farther up the mountain in the spring and fall. The battle was brief and bloody as Majid’s tribe, unwilling to fight, scattered and flew higher up the mountains, risking death by freezing rather than at the claws of their “less evolved” cousins. A few birds were killed or “missing”, in the fray, Majid being one of the missing as he stayed to help an elderly great egret who was having trouble flying (her arthritis was acting up in the cold weather).

The egret was killed outright, but Majid fought with a spirit that surprised the eagles and instead of killing him, they wounded and captured the young secretary bird. Majid was kept as a pet (or perhaps sideshow) of sorts by the eagles for a brief time (he was not fully grown at that point, but was still almost as tall as a few of the larger male eagles) and then brought to one of the more stable villages where a large gambling operation was run with ring fights as the main attraction. Majid was sold off to a high-roller in the gambling ring who already owned several fighters.

The secretary bird caused a stir during his first fight (his wings were bound to his body to prevent escape) in The Pit (a fighting ring placed in a large hole 20 feet down that the fighters had to be lowered into) when he viciously and silently attacked, wounded and flung his bewildered competitor (using his beak and centripetal force) toward the audience. The competitor, a skinned crow, didn’t make it anywhere near the top, but he did break an arm and a wing in the subsequent fall as well as faint, putting him out of the The Pit for several weeks. His opponent incapacitated, Majid tried to escape by using his beak and claws to pull himself out of The Pit. He had rocks thrown at him by “safety officials” until he fell unconscious.

Majid awoke in a cage with a skinned raven staring in at him, seated in a chair a respectable distance away. It was the high-roller who had bought him.

“What’s yer name, kid?” the raven asked and was greeted with a glaring silence. “Should I name ye, then?” the gambler raised and eyebrow and still received no reply. “I’ve always liked the name Maxwell…and Aveza, that sounds trendy. Ha! Max Aveza, the most vicious Beaked One in the Territory. Seriously, though, Beaky, I’ve never seen one of yer type fly off the handle like that. Ye wiped the floor with that crow -- granted, he was a rookie like you, but still! Yer gonna be the star a’The Pit an’ yer gonna be pullin’ in the big bucks if ye keep it up.”

“And if I tell you that if you come close enough I’ll stab you through the heart with my beak?” Majid, now Maxell, queried quietly, his voice carrying deadly intent.

The raven laughed heartily before answering. “I’d say keep up that temper, Max. Only ever seen one other like ye an’ he belongs to old Barry Meyers. Who knows, maybe ye’ll get to fight yer own kind afore long. Ha! Ye Beakies are surprisin’ sometimes, ye know that, Max? Thought ye were all a buncha push overs an’ then ye come along and show yer jest as bloodthirsty as the rest a’us. Don’t ye believe in that Greater Power who-ha?”

“I believe you should let me go,” the secretary bird hissed, “or I’ll kill you.”

Two years passed and fighting became a regular part of Maxwell’s life with two to three rounds in The Pit a week. As promised he became a star of the ring, winning all but a few of his fights. His owner, Skye Conley, was a decent sort if you ignored the fact that he killed, bribed, threatened and was generally immoral. He had four other fighters, though they were all voluntary and received wages for their pains. Skye also owned one other slave, a brash female mouse who was probably only 7 or 8 named Megan Rose. The rodent ran errands for Skye and looked after Maxwell as the secretary bird continued to snap at anyone else who came too close to his enclosure (“An expanded cage? You are most kind, raven,” the beaked bird had smiled ironically when he’d received his ‘present’).

It was early spring during Max’s sixteenth year when he encountered his brother again. He was being lowered into The Pit for the fight that day, tuning out the chatter from the crowd when he noticed his competitor who was staring at him intensely. It was another beaked secretary bird; it was Karim Nasar. “Karim!” Max cried with joy when he was released from the rope gurney that had lower him down.

“Majid…or is it Maxwell?” his brother replied. “Well,” he went on without waiting for a reply, “I’m sorry I have to hurt you, little brother, but it’s business as you well know.” Then Karim attacked and Max only retaliated on pure instinct. The battle was brief and bloody, rather like the one that had landed Max where he was now, and Max went down hard with his right eye nearly clawed out. With what little consciousness that remained, the younger sibling watched his darkening big brother step back, say something he couldn’t understand and then the darkness was complete.

Max woke with a start and nearly gutted Megan who had been changing the bandage on his eye. He apologized and then began to shake and cry uncontrollably. Megan asked what was wrong (“Outside the obvious, beau,” she had added, trying to make him laugh to no avail) and Max poured out his life story to her as she stroked his head and long neck, which he had laid in her lap. It was then that the pair of slaves made a pact to escape. Both or neither.

They were given the opportunity some 20 years later when Skye was assassinated in the night by a rival gambler. Megan got hold of the keys from his room, unlocked Max’s enclosure and the pair made off into the night. They lived as they could from that point on, traveling around the Territory looking after one another. The mouse and bird continue to wander even today, though they keep away from the mountains, as well as the village that they escaped from in the first place.
_________________
"Anything good in life is either illegal, immoral, or fattening." - Murphy's Law

RabidFox · Posted: Sat Jul 25, 2009 8:52 pm Post subject: Madame: Ennis Coldfield

An' here we have my entry for the Aros contest. Since he isn't going to be Aros' main rival, I'm going to take him on as one of my regular characters. This is quite a bit longer than my usual stuff and more detailed, so apologies in advance for the length.

Medieval Character

Name: Ennis Coldfield
Age: 29
DOB and Place of Birth: January 3rd in Rennes, Domus
Gender: Male
Race: Canine/Whippet
Occupation: Hunting Aros

Appearance: Ennis is typically thin and wiry as is common to his variety of canine. He’s built as a runner and exploits his natural abilities for profit when strapped for money (which is more often than not). The dog’s eyes are a rare, indigo color and are generally narrowed to a determined glare. His short fur is a mixture of white, tan and a dark brown and his head fur length ranges from a short tuft to almost nonexistent depending on when he’s last seen the barber. On the left side of his neck, just below the ear there is a tattoo in an ancient text that means “Sinner.”

The whippet’s clothing consists of a tan under shirt, black tunic, buckled with a dark yellow-brown belt, brown slacks and black boots. On the back of the tunic is a symbol, a white outline of a moon overlapping a four-pointed star, which represents redemption. His only other accessories are a silver earring fastened to his left ear and an unremarkable lance that serves as a dual walking stick and weapon.

Ref Sheet: Ennis

Personality: Ennis is a cold, calculating fellow. He’s street smart from a youth spent on it and as such can defend himself well, or, if all else fails, sprint away. His world is rather a morally gray one as on the one hand he has no problem with cold-blooded murder to further his quest to find Aros, but on the other he balks at killing those who do not matter or those he deems “innocents”. Like most canines from Domus he is guarded and almost never lets others in on what he’s thinking, though he prefers to be around other animals, just not always interacting with them. This is one reason that he is drawn to pubs and other similar establishments.

Though he may seem emotionless, Ennis is really nothing but emotions, most of them of the negative sort that have poisoned his mind and made him into a “cynical, sharp-tongued bastard,” as some have so aptly put it. This persona does give way to an overly warm, sobbing-prone pup when he’s heavily drunk, though, so he avoids drinking much alcohol when possible.

Bio: Ennis was born what was to be the second of three children in the bustling port of Rennes in Domus. His older brother, who was ‘perfect’ in every way imaginable and ‘adorable’ little sister drew most of the attention away from him and that was how he liked it. With few restrictions, the young whippet found himself in trouble with the harbor authorities, most of the time for running illegal gambling rings or selling alcohol and drugs to minors. He was a street-wise fellow and his formal education was dismissed as a wasted effort by his aggravated parents who merely encouraged him not to get caught so often. He brought home money and that was all that really mattered to them as they needed it to put food on the table.

His life of crime eventually landed the whippet in the stocks for a few days in his twentieth year and that was where he met Jezebel. She was a well-to-do collie with a kind heart that fed him each day and cleaned his face from the rotten vegetable that the cruel children threw. Upon release, Ennis began to court Jezebel, cleaning up his act both physically and mentally. He wanted to be the perfect dog for his lover and so, despite his initial disgust, the young dog went to his older brother for advice. A year passed and the whippet was nearly unrecognizable for the change that had come over him. His fur was well kept and his clothing neat and mended where torn. He was doing respectable work as an assistant to one of the blacksmiths in town. In fact, the only reminder of the whippet’s old life was the tattoo he’d gotten at age 15 that meant “sinner” in an ancient language.

Another year passed and Ennis moved to a new townhouse along with Jezebel, much to the dismay of her family who found such premarital arrangements unwholesome. A few months passed and the whippet decided the time was right to propose so he went out and bought an elegant diamond ring with the money he had been saving up. Everything went well, though he learned later that day that the shop was robbed immediately after his departure by a strange, cross-bred raccoon-cat. He shrugged it off and hid the ring downstairs in his study for the next evening (what was to be the third-year anniversary of the pair’s meeting).

That night Ennis was woken by the very soft sound of a window downstairs opening. He grabbed the nearest weapon he could find (a flower vase), told Jezebel to stay in the room and lock it behind him, and then went out to meet whatever fiend had entered. Downstairs, the dog found a cacomistle quietly going through the drawers of his desk. The burglar paused for a moment then came up with the engagement ring, grinning to himself and turning around to see the wide-eyed canine blocking his escape. The windows of the study were barred and Ennis threw the vase at the thief, missing and instead hitting the oil lamp on his desk, sending it crashing to the floor where it spread its slick contents across the dry wood.

In spite of his commands, Jezebel hurried down with a candle after hearing the crash. She found the males wrestling noiselessly in the den and rushed in. Without meaning to the pair sent her flying into the wall where she dropped the candle onto the oil and set it ablaze before slumping down unconscious. Neither Ennis nor the cacomistle noticed the small blaze as their fight ranged outside the study and into the entrance hall. The thief threw the dog off and managed to dash out the door, taking with him the ring. Snarling in a rage, the whippet followed, nearly catching up down the street, but being stopped as a late-night carriage nearly crashed into him. Yelling at the driver and looking about wildly, the dog managed to catch a glimpse behind him and saw smoke and red flames rising from his home. He looked back the other way and saw the thief idly watching him to see if he would follow.

Ennis took one angry step toward the cacomistle, then turned and sprinted back to the townhouse that was already too far gone. A team of animals were already working to put out the blaze, but the whippet blew past them and into the house itself to save Jezebel. Hacking and choking on every breath, eyes watering, the dog crawled to the study where flame was still dancing merrily. The animals outside screamed for him to get out before the building came down on his head, but he kept on until he saw what he knew in his mind he would see, but what his heart would not let him believe. Jezebel’s smoldering corpse made a pitiable sight with the fur burnt away and the skin nothing more than blackened patches. He managed to get her out and attempted to revive her until a kind wolfhound pulled him off and held him as he sobbed brokenly into her thick fur.

The whippet’s carefully constructed life fell to pieces after that as his dreams were tormented by the grinning cacomistle who (in the dog’s mind) was responsible for Jezebel’s death. He blamed himself, as well, for not getting back in time, but his hatred for the thief formed into an untidy ball of burning emotions as another year passed and Ennis recovered from his own burns. Once he was sufficiently healthy, the dog set off on a mission to find and destroy the cacomistle (whose name happened to be Aros, as the dog discovered later in his quest).

Quirks:
1. Has a conversion disorder that causes his old burn scars to ache when near Aros or a special anniversary.
2. Has an unwholesome fascination with fire.
3. Wears long-sleeve shirts no matter what the environment, weather or condition of all his shirts.
4. Has atrocious handwriting.
5. Enjoys eating raw tomatoes like apples.

Strengths:
1. Speed
2. Flexibility
3. Street-smarts and connections
4. Determined and persistent (a.k.a. obsessive)
5. Near photographic memory

Weaknesses:
1. Has no more than a basic knowledge of magic
2. Brute strength
3. Single-mindedness alienates others who hang around him too long
4. Reading and writing anything save numbers (as a bookie he became a proficient amateur accountant) is time consuming and pain-staking for him since he received no formal education
5. Bouts of unprompted rage sabotage some of his best-laid Aros traps

Religious Ideology: Ennis does not worship the Canine Goddess, Adamina (much to his parents’ chagrin). Instead, the whippet is what might be called a modern day Deist. He believes that there is some higher being or beings but that It/They either went away after creating Feila or does/do not interfere in its everyday workings. He also believes in an afterlife, but nothing like Heaven and Hell. Instead, his belief is that the spirit of all living things returns to the planet so that the consciousness is spread throughout the world. Always thinking, but, of course, unable to act because of the dispersion of the “spirit particles”. He is of the mind that this is how mages, etc. are able to use magic while he can’t. They tap into the planet in a way that escapes him.

Favorite Color: Black.
Favorite Food: Cinnamon cookies.
Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual
Status: Available…technically, though some might say (snidely and well out of ear-shot) that he is in an extremely involved relationship with Aros.

Magic Abilities: Unless you count near photographic memory, none.
Musical Abilities: Has perfect pitch, but his musical talents were never encouraged so he never pursued them.
Fears: His own inadequacies, having Aros caught by someone else or being thrown in jail himself before catching Aros

Physical Handicaps:
While covered most of the time by his tunic and shirt Ennis has extensive burn scarring along his chest and arms. Currently it tends to only ache when he knows he is drawing near to Aros or it is the anniversary of some date that was special to Jezebel and him. He knows it’s a mental issue more than physical, but doesn’t often consider it bothersome enough get looked at.
_________________
"Anything good in life is either illegal, immoral, or fattening." - Murphy's Law

RabidFox · Posted: Sat Jul 25, 2009 8:52 pm Post subject: Madame: Fidel Santiago

Apologies for the double post. I know it's allowed and all that jazz, but you lot know me. Anyway, he's to be the judge for the Mazan Festival sack race.

Medieval Character

Name: Fidel Santiago
Age: 32
Gender: Male
Race: Rodent/Patagonian Cavy
Occupation: Priest/Paladin

Appearance: Fidel is a garden variety cavy in coloration with drab, gray-brown fur covering most of his body and white markings on his underbelly, tail and legs. He has a tuft of head fur, but otherwise his coat is short and somewhat wiry in texture. The dull colors of his fur are offset, however, by tattoos running from his forehead to his nose and on the back of his paws from just above the wrists to the knuckle. The tattoos are in the form of silver circles, set three to a row. Additionally, the cavy has a pair of unusual and expressive gray-green eyes that convey everything from religious zealotry to calm determination.

Physically, he’s fit from traveling around and generally walks normally, though he may gallop, hop or bounce if he is traveling long distances. His legs and digi-grade feet are powerful and he leaves them bare because his razor-sharp claws tend to rip and puncture any boot that’s put on them. His arms and legs are also disproportionately long given his short torso, but this is usual given his species.

The priest’s clothing is rather richer than the common Mazan given the relatively enormous wealth of the Trinidian Church in Maze. He sports a long, button-down, white silk shirt and black, durable pants. Over this, Fidel wears the coat of the Paladin of the Order -- a long, forest green, high-collared coat reaching to his ankles with black covering the cuffs and about two-thirds of the chest and collar. It is also decorated with silver in various designs separating black and green and is closed with three silver clasps.

In regard to accessories, Fidel wears a set of silver earrings in the shape of the Trinidian Church symbol (a half-circle on the bottom with three point on top, the middle point being higher than the other two), as well as a silver ring with a small Light rune serving as the jewel. Also, the cavy is never seen without his staff, it is of a durable, white stone with jade bands and a tip that is in the shape of the Trinidian Church symbol (this tip hides a Water rune that is embedded in it).

Picture: Fidel 1
Fidel 2

Personality: Being raised in the strict Trinidian orphanage that his mother stumbled into before dying due complications during his birth, Fidel Santiago has known no other life but the Church. He has the fear of Mixcoatl in him and takes his morality entirely from the Church. While he’s a friendly sort and what most would deem “good”, he’s also a religious zealot bent on converting the masses so that they are not sent to Infierno and instead reach Cielo. His attitude toward those who refuse to accept the teachings of Quetzalcoatl is one of disdain. Fidel can be incredibly rude and condescending toward nonbelievers and isn’t afraid to browbeat other furs until they agree with him (whether to shut him up or because they’re convinced).

The priest is also a fighter and ‘people-person’ by nature, hence his joining the Paladin side of the Order rather than becoming a monk and staying locked away in some monastery. He loves interacting with others and having a good time (within the bounds of canon law). His magical prowess combined with his religious air tend to make him rather arrogant, but he cares deeply about other furs and wishes to help them, whether it’s by discovering their spirituality, protecting the defenseless and weak or healing the sick.

Bio: One gray afternoon on the outskirts of East Cape a lone, half-mad and quite pregnant, female cavy staggered into the Trinidian monastery from the west. She offered nothing save the name ‘Jacobo’ before going into labor and collapsing. The Sisterhood staffing the monastery took the cavy to their infirmary where she suffered a long and painful eleven hours before a single, silent child emerged and the mother died. Worried that the baby would not survive either (he was exceptionally small), the Sisters quickly cast healing spells and prayed to Mixcoatl to protect the new life. Whether it was divine intervention, the spells or dumb luck, the child survived, finally offering a pitiful cry as his declaration of life in Feila. He was named Fidel Santiago and raised by the sisters until he was old enough to be taken to the Trinidian Church Orphanage in the port city of Vera Cruz located in northeastern Maze that had close contact with the Santo Ve, just across the small Quetzal Channel on the three northeast islands, collectively known as the Mazatlan Isles.

Growing up among the priests and sisters whose rule was law and who did not balk at dealing harsh discipline for even minor offenses, Fidel came to love the Church and its teachings. While his fellow orphans were waiting and praying for the day when they could leave the rigid world they had been raised in, the cavy dreamed of the day when he would meet the Abbot himself and be ordained as a Paladin.

The day did eventually come when Fidel went through the sacrament of Confirmation at age 17. He studied for four more years, working as an assistant to the priests and sisters at the orphanage before making his pilgrimage to Santo Ve where he was shortly made a Paladin-in-training after presenting numerous references, and displaying his magical abilities and intellect. He spent the next five years training in the arts of the Paladin and, after meeting with the Abbot and taking his vows, coat and staff, began traveling at the ripe age of 26, to convert the non-believers and save their souls.

Fidel took no interest in the past of his parents and though he was told about his mother and ‘Jacobo’, he never pursued the matter. He considers the lives of his parents insignificant since neither were members of the Trinidian Church.

Favorite Color: Silver
Favorite Food: Herb Salad
Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual
Status: Vow of Celibacy

Magic Abilities: Water and Light Sage, Earth Mage
Musical Abilities: Can read music and sing (tenor), but is inept with instruments
Fears: Lightning
_________________
"Anything good in life is either illegal, immoral, or fattening." - Murphy's Law

RabidFox · Posted: Sat Jul 25, 2009 8:53 pm Post subject: Madame: Marcel Preud’homme

And this would be my character for the Dimensional Break board.

Modern Character

Name: Marcel Preud’homme
Age: 26
DOB and Place of Birth: October 25th in Nice (pronounced like 'niece'), Domus
Gender: Female
Race: Canine/French Hound
Occupation: Ex-Interior Designer/Current Traveler

Appearance: To describe Marcel in a word, it would be ‘hippie’. She dresses as if she isn’t aware that that particular era is over with rose-tinted sunglasses, bead necklaces and bracelets in both the wooden and colorful plastic style (her favorite being one with green beads and a large, metal peace sign hanging off), hip-hugging bell-bottoms (many with custom sequent patterns on them), a rainbow colored belt and bright, baby-doll and spaghetti-strap shirts and tank tops that expose her pierced belly button. Her mode of dress often has her mistaken for a teenager rather than a hound in her mid-twenties and she’s still carded for alcohol, which she finds amusing.

Marcel stops short of average height at 5’2” and weighs in at a healthy level according to the BMI. The hound has some curves on her, but her cup size mirrors her height and weight -- small. Her fur coloring is mainly white with a few tan patches and her pink nose is mirrored by a set of pink, colored contacts. She doesn’t have many visible scars save for a notch in her left ear obtained on some outing or another when she was trapped in some thorn bushes.

Picture: Full Body
Bust
Sketchy with Future Aros

Personality: The hound’s personality mirrors her mode of dress. She’s more than a little eccentric -- talking to herself out loud, claiming to be a murderer and delighting in confusing others with a mixture of Edwinish and Franco-Domus dialect -- and seems to be all sunshine and daises. Internally, she’s what most would call a sociopath as she doesn’t feel remorse about anything, but instead takes pride in her misdeeds and announces them to the world. The only thing she won’t do is lie because it’s a ‘sin’ in her book. This makes her a terrible secret-keeper and perhaps more than a little bit of a gossip, though she only offers it when prompted.

To be blunt, though, Marcel really is a raving loon. She murdered her grandfather at 7 and continues to murder today, though only once or twice every few years. Since she’s generally only in a place for a couple of years and most of the murders take the form of accidents, only a few (none of which have come forward) have put two and two together.

Bio: Christened ‘Marcel’ after her maternal grandmother, the middle of the three Preud’homme children was born one snowy evening in October at the local hospital. Her family was of the well to do sort and owned an old-fashion mansion that had been maintained and passed down through the years to the eldest child of each generation. Marcel seemed to be the perfect little angle of the family, quiet as a baby and working hard at school, though she had a brush with death early at the age of 7 that ‘scarred’ her as others said. Her paternal grandfather, who lived in the mansion with the rest of the family, tumbled down the staircase with the child as the soul witness. Furs shook their heads, remarked how tragic it was and asked Marcel what happened. “Je l’ai fait!” the little hound explained with a strange sort of smile. “I did it!” Everyone told her it was most certainly not her fault, but she maintained that she had been the one to push her grandfather down the stairs. An investigation was made and it was determined that it had merely been an accident with the old fellow tripping. Marcel was sent to a therapist, a raccoon named Jayna Faulkner, to help her ‘cope’ and get over her ‘guilt’, but she steadfastly maintained it had been her doing.

Death hit the family again in the girl’s 10th year with her elder brother drowning in a river during a camping trip. Marcel was the only witness and when asked, repeated what she’d said when questioned about her grand-père. “Je l’ai fait. I did it.” Everyone assured her that the rocks were slippery and there was nothing she could have done short of jumping in and dying herself. The hound returned to her therapist where she explained that she had pushed her brother in. When asked why, she said they’d had an argument earlier. Everyone shook their heads. Poor girl, guilt over fighting with her brother just prior to the event had warped her perception of it.

Marcel’s 13th year saw death, as well, with her little sister and aunt being killed in a fire that destroyed the summer house in Kraden while her parents were off traveling. The only one to escape, the hound was questioned and taken into custody when she told the firemen she’d started the blaze and locked her aunt and sister’s doors. Her parents rushed to her and after an investigation failed to find signs of arson and Marcel’s psychiatric file was read, the incident was ruled an accident and she was released and sent back to Jayna who was beginning to wonder. The girl had been the soul witness in four deaths and each time proclaimed herself the murderer. Not only that, she stuck to the story even when told over and over it wasn’t her fault. Could it really be…?

There was little doubt left in the raccoon’s mind when 5 years later, just as Marcel was preparing to graduate high school, Marguerite, her mother, was found dead in the family home after ingesting cyanide. The substance was traced to some soup that Jacque, Marcel’s father, had made and the male hound was taken into custody even as the girl was yelling at the police, “Je l’ai fait! I did it! Il m’a été!” Despite Jacque maintaining his innocence and Marcel all but screaming her guilt from the courthouse steps, the prosecution was able to convince the jury that the girl’s taking the blame was a sure sign of her father’s guilt as she tried to cover for him. Jacque went to prison and the entirety of the family wealth fell into Marcel’s hands. She went and visited her father in prison, of course and the day before he committed suicide by way of his bed sheets being turned into a noose, he asked her why she had killed her mother and everyone else, but not him. “Drôle, Papa,” the lady hound laughed. “Je ne peux pas te tuer quand tu es à l’intérieur de la prison.”

After her family was gone, Marcel attended college and obtained a Bachelor’s Degree in interior design with a minor in languages from the Sprohm University, followed by her MBA. She was always considered more than a little strange in school with a few of her classmates coming to gruesome ends during her stay. She claimed that she had killed them, but all appeared to be no more than accidents and many just thought she was doing it because she was disturbed and/or seeking attention. The hound became known as a compulsive confessor and was infamous enough for it that ‘pulling a Preud’homme’ came into the vernacular of the campus meaning: to draw attention to yourself by saying something outrageous. School over for the time being, Marcel set up a small company with the only creature that she could call a friend, a Brittany Spaniel named Lucile Blanc who also happened to be from one of the French-speaking counties of Domus.

Though Marcel had no need to work, she did it because she enjoyed interior design and when she was fully exercising her mind and paws, she was too busy to kill other furs. The business wasn’t very successful as Lucile took up cocaine after a few years and began using the profits to feed her addiction. Marcel kept things afloat with money from her own pocket, but eventually grew bored with things and at the age of 20, she committed the first murder that she was ever put under investigation for. Nothing came of it, though, as Lucile’s death was eventually ruled an accidental overdose. The hound told the police she did it, but given her prior ‘confession’ record, the history of death in her family and notes from therapists who examined her, they let her off. Since she no longer has a set business, Marcel now travels around the world for something to do. She has confessed to several other murders, but almost no one believes her as the canine seems decidedly off her rocker, whispering to herself, displaying inappropriate emotions for certain situations and dressing like a hippie.

Strengths:
1. Honesty
2. Sense of smell
3. Interior design
4. Agility
5. Money

Weaknesses:
1. Honesty
2. Insanity
3. Eye-sight (compensated for with contacts)
4. Street smarts (lack thereof)
5. Physical strength

Religious Ideology: Doesn’t believe in any particular religion, but does believe that there is some higher being and that lying is the worst sort of sin one can commit.

Favorite Color: Orange
Favorite Food: Steak
Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual
Status: Available
Musical Abilities: Can play the violin and flute with moderate proficiency
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"Anything good in life is either illegal, immoral, or fattening." - Murphy's Law