Ivory

[[-Kay-]]

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Name: Ivory


Age: 19 (Old in cat years, Young in Human years.)


Race: Werecat


Occupation: Assassin, Theif, whatever the hell she wants to be that day.


Allegiance: None


Physical Description: Well there's two sides to her. When she's human she's small, her frame delicate, and she's exactly the kind of girl you'd see as some sort of 'fragile' and 'delicate' creature that's easily broken into a thousand pieces if you even bump into her. Her shoulders and back and arms when exposed,, are tattooed in black ink. Twisting designs here and there. One was a dandelion with it's white fuzz flying away. One was a snake curling in on itself and over her shoulder with it's head resting on her collarbone, a four leafed clover in its mouth. A series of stars were scattered in a pattern in one area, an Ouroboros in another. A butterfly with Celtic writing inscribed there, something about a wave appearing on calm water. An etheral fox in one area, and then a final as a feather with little birds flying off of it. Her arms are covered with pretty swirling writing and designs of little stars intermingled in with them. Yes, she's pretty, but not beautiful to the extreme. She has sharp features, but not overly horrible sharp that you could cut paper with. She has almond shaped eyes, hair that reaches the middle of her back, and a pale face. Her frame is lean, but muscled in a strong but feminine way. She's lithe, like a cat so to speak in her human form. Her pupils, like all werecats, are slitted, even in her human form. It's one of her defining features, as her almond shaped eyes are wide. Her eyes are a shade of blue, well that's the base color. She has partial heterochromia in her eyes whenever she's in her human form, full whenever she's in her cat In her human form her eyes are half blue, half golden brown. To most, she's seen a slightly flamboyant in her dress whenever she's 'human'. In no uncertain terms she resembles a pirate whenever she dresses herself. If it was up to others she might wear something more...conservative. Like a plain light green dress. But she's too bold for such things. More like vibrant purples, oranges, yellows and blues. Never one for conventionality, she's always been a bit rebellious. But then again, she's allowed to be that way isn't she?

As a cat, she's a large one. Not in a 'fat' sense, but in a size sense. She's the size equivalent of a Maine Coon, with pure white fur. It's slightly shaggy, and as always, meticulously clean. She's always been a neat freak about her fur, always will be. Nothing about her is strange. Her eyes, however are a diffrent story. Her right eye is green, with brown mottling around the edges. Her left, blue, with silvery white mottling around the edges. In both eyes the color goes from the mottling, turns into the color of the eye, then darkens to an almost black before it reaches the pupil.
Personality: She holds no allegiance, no friendships, no camaraderie sacred. She'll cross, double cross, even triple cross to establish her hold on things. She hates being the 'underdog' and will take whatever means necessary to get back on top. She's not adverse to thievery and assassination, having taken a short spell in her past to 'work' for someone who needed a throat slit here and there. But that never lasted long. She grew tired with her work and ended up slitting the throat of her 'employer' and making off with their money. She prefers being a cat, as it allows her more of a freedom she feels. After all, they can post pictures of a person everywhere but they cant very well post pictures of a wanted cat now can they?


History: Her history is one of her less interesting bits. As a youngling, she lived with her mother, like any other child. Her mother taught her and her litter mate about many things. She was an oddball, her mother being a solid black cat with a thinner coat, her brother and litter mate a dark smokey grey with a short haired coat. But this little girl, with white fur and mismatched eyes looked past it all and learned quickly and efficiently. Whenever the war reached their little secluded section of the Spine, however, things went to the dogs so to speak. Many trees were being cut down, and forcing all the other creatures out of their home. She was only twelve, yet she had seen the ways of the world, things that many would never see, things that no one ever would. She had seen the wild dragons in their territories, beyond the borders of Alagaesia. She had seen the elves in Du Weldenvarden. She had been past the edges of the Spine and seen the nomads and traders in Hadarac. But she had never been so far from the Spine as she couldn't find her way back.

Her mother taught her and her littermate many things. How to fight by taking them to little villages, letting her fight with the boys that were growing up about her size. Even the boys that were twice her size she fought with, working to better herself. Her never stand down personallity brought her through it, though at times she wanted to give up. Though it was commonly known to her that Werecats possessed no magic other than the ability to change into their human form, what her mother knew about their race she would never know. Their existance in the Spine was a quiet one, their den consisting of a small cave without any other protection from the elements. They survived there by hunting and gathering, like any other creature would. When she was older, her mother taught her some of frowned upon arts. Like pickpocketing, con artistry, and persuasion.

Her mother took her Carvala, where they met with an old friend of her mother's. He was an old man, whose exact race nobody ever really knew. Her mother saw her potential as a youngling, and took her to him. She stayed with him for a few weeks, learning to wield a sword, dagger and bow with ease. She was the only female student the man had, the only one in the city. She sparred with the bigger boys most often, learning to disarm them. She learned to shoot a bow quickly and accuratly, hitting the target nine times out of ten. She could hit the center five of those nine times, the sharp sight of her race giving her an advantage. She learned to throw a dagger so she could hit the knot on a tree at fifty yards or more. She was one of his best students, but even he couldn't live forever. He was murdered, but in his will he left his sword to her. It was a beautiful shade of violet, the color of light filtering through an amethyst. But she wouldn't keep it. She would take it with her deep into the Spine, hiding it away. To this day, she cannot remember where she hid it. She only remembers seeing a rock, with strange creatures all around it, pacing. BUt they wouldn't touch her. Not once did they touch her.

But the soldiers here, they had no care for life. They slew the trees and animals that got near them, using them to fuel their cruel lifestyle.



They set fire to the brush and trees that were of no use to them, sometimes burning a good mile before the rains would wash the flames away. But once, she wasn't so lucky. She had wandered from her home, down to the waterfall in Palancar Valley that was near Carvala. But whenever she reached her home again, late that next day, she found nothing. No ferns and weeds where there had been many. No thorn bushes and stinging nettle where there should have been. And the burned out den with her mother and sibling lay dead. She left that place then, going far from there, to Teirm for a while. She lay in the fishing village for a year, learning about the humans and their way of speaking before she traveled to Ceunon, 'working' for merchants to earn a living of sorts. After she grew tired of them, she killed them. This went of for a couple of years, until now, when she started growing tired of all of this. Now, she continues her work, shifting in and out of her animal and human lifestyles, just making her way in the world.


Roleplaying Sample:

The young girl walked out of her home, slipping into the sports car in her driveway. Her long hair hung loosely around her pretty face, large dark eyes framed by dark eyelashes peering out at the world. She slid the key into the ignition, closing her eyes with a soft smile as the engine purred to life. She had a weakness for cars, pretty and fast cars especially. Little pale fingers curled around the steering wheel, black fingernails tapping a little beat as she waited for the car in the street to pass before she pulled out. She ran a hand through her hair,

[Kite]

Accepted! Welcome!