Iviin, the Speeding Bullet Kralis
#333333
[ee - VEEN] Speed; Velocity
As the name implies, this Kralis won his rank through speed. Not just speed however, but the ability to maneuver masterfully while operating under high speeds. He enjoys high places, his surefootedness making sure he doesn’t fall from said high places. Contrary to what some might guess then, this Tzingani is not one to be particularly active, or at least when it comes to others. He is stoic when confronted with crowds, a major introvert if there ever was one. He offers commentary up from the sidelines when he thinks his opinion might be needed, being that he is one of experience and a Lord to boot, and he believes his opinions are deserved.
This Tzingani uses his skills to the best of his ability in order to procure items of great value and sell them to those clients wishing to make a purchase. He takes orders when open, though the items must be small enough for his tiny body to carry, one flaw he is irritated to point out. Like his Bonded he deals in under the table trading and what some might consider to be Black Market deals if there ever was such a thing on Planet. Otherwise he believes he is in debt to his Bonded, and unlike some Tzingani, offers a percentage of what he makes from sales to her in order for the ever growing group to function. She is just as respectable in skill as he is.
His fur is the softest gray with darker gray markings on his face and running along his back. His front right paw is black, as if it had been dipped in ink, as is the very tip of his ears and tail. What is most confusing about Iviin is his puny size. He is perhaps one of the smallest Tzingani you may ever find, a runt in his litter. This size is often the reason why some might believe him not to be a Kralis, but a Chavo. Until he starts running that is. In his ear is a curved talon, acting as an earring though it is large and sometimes bends the ear over. This was a gift from Sal to him, one of the reasons he is indebted to the girl.
[ee - VEEN] Speed; Velocity
As the name implies, this Kralis won his rank through speed. Not just speed however, but the ability to maneuver masterfully while operating under high speeds. He enjoys high places, his surefootedness making sure he doesn’t fall from said high places. Contrary to what some might guess then, this Tzingani is not one to be particularly active, or at least when it comes to others. He is stoic when confronted with crowds, a major introvert if there ever was one. He offers commentary up from the sidelines when he thinks his opinion might be needed, being that he is one of experience and a Lord to boot, and he believes his opinions are deserved.
This Tzingani uses his skills to the best of his ability in order to procure items of great value and sell them to those clients wishing to make a purchase. He takes orders when open, though the items must be small enough for his tiny body to carry, one flaw he is irritated to point out. Like his Bonded he deals in under the table trading and what some might consider to be Black Market deals if there ever was such a thing on Planet. Otherwise he believes he is in debt to his Bonded, and unlike some Tzingani, offers a percentage of what he makes from sales to her in order for the ever growing group to function. She is just as respectable in skill as he is.
His fur is the softest gray with darker gray markings on his face and running along his back. His front right paw is black, as if it had been dipped in ink, as is the very tip of his ears and tail. What is most confusing about Iviin is his puny size. He is perhaps one of the smallest Tzingani you may ever find, a runt in his litter. This size is often the reason why some might believe him not to be a Kralis, but a Chavo. Until he starts running that is. In his ear is a curved talon, acting as an earring though it is large and sometimes bends the ear over. This was a gift from Sal to him, one of the reasons he is indebted to the girl.
Ca'tra, the Revenge is Bittersweet Kralis
Italic #000000
[KAY - trah] Night sky
Everyone knows Tzingani to be strong in family values, and this one is no different. Yet this miserable Kralis has lost his family, and take heed not to bring up such a sore subject around him either. None save one knows how a family of ten was lost, and Ijat isn't talking either. It could be a very safe bet, however, that someone is to blame and the Kralis is tirelessly searching for the killers. Despite his young age he's seen hardship, and it has made him cruel hearted. Granted, he's no sadist, but he is cold to the world and does not join in on games or joyous occasions. He does what he deems as necessary, and will follow his Bonded's word like a servant would a Queen; without question and diverting Ijat to take care of it.
He is young and thus small, still growing. His right eye has been marred through past trauma, and he covers this deformity with an eye patch. No, silly, he's not a pirate. He is a lord and bear to keep that in mind as he cannot tolerate shame to his name or house - this includes Sal. His left eye is the clearest of dark blues, alight with ideas on how to deal with problems and his revenge. His Bonded might have problems with petting him, he's just so well kept for and groomed, so fluffy and soft! His fur is just nearing black, unmarred by any markings or other coloration. The other trinket he has he keeps about his neck; a sapphire stone ring strung about his neck on a silver chain. And if one were to shave the fur from his left front leg, they would find the signature thin black marring of a Vargul deal....
What is the price, and why does Ijat never leave the Tzingane's side?
[KAY - trah] Night sky
Everyone knows Tzingani to be strong in family values, and this one is no different. Yet this miserable Kralis has lost his family, and take heed not to bring up such a sore subject around him either. None save one knows how a family of ten was lost, and Ijat isn't talking either. It could be a very safe bet, however, that someone is to blame and the Kralis is tirelessly searching for the killers. Despite his young age he's seen hardship, and it has made him cruel hearted. Granted, he's no sadist, but he is cold to the world and does not join in on games or joyous occasions. He does what he deems as necessary, and will follow his Bonded's word like a servant would a Queen; without question and diverting Ijat to take care of it.
He is young and thus small, still growing. His right eye has been marred through past trauma, and he covers this deformity with an eye patch. No, silly, he's not a pirate. He is a lord and bear to keep that in mind as he cannot tolerate shame to his name or house - this includes Sal. His left eye is the clearest of dark blues, alight with ideas on how to deal with problems and his revenge. His Bonded might have problems with petting him, he's just so well kept for and groomed, so fluffy and soft! His fur is just nearing black, unmarred by any markings or other coloration. The other trinket he has he keeps about his neck; a sapphire stone ring strung about his neck on a silver chain. And if one were to shave the fur from his left front leg, they would find the signature thin black marring of a Vargul deal....
What is the price, and why does Ijat never leave the Tzingane's side?
Haileer, the Expect the Unexpected Chavo
#950080
[HIE - leer] Observe, Watch Over
As opposite from his siblings as can be, he gets neither delight in causing trouble nor being an utter idiot. Rather, he is very quick to voice his opinion, be harsh in his reactions, and berate for not acting appropriately. In a sense, he is a spoil-sport. With his constantly seeing the negative in anything, it’s a pretty good bet to say he’s a pessimist as well. Well, at least one of the kits had to grow up responsible! This little Chavo’s grumpiness doesn’t really have much to say for itself, though… At least he’s very observant. From the moment he could walk and talk, he was being hired by the various stalls to watch for thieves and pickpockets.
This little watchdog’s fur is pitch black, with no markings--which is pretty uncommon in itself. Even his eyes are a dark shade of blue, contrasting with the brightness of his mother’s gift. Upon his head is a bright purple knit beanie, with pink and peach stripes and a set of eyes on the front to make it look like the Cheshire cat. Naturally, such vivacious tastes displease him. That is to say he hates the hat. Out of the respect that he dredges up from the depths of his soul, however, he wears it. It does keep his ears warm, he has to admit… At least for all his grumpiness and grumbles he’s a pretty honest and fair Chavo, albeit a bit paranoid and sharp.
[HIE - leer] Observe, Watch Over
As opposite from his siblings as can be, he gets neither delight in causing trouble nor being an utter idiot. Rather, he is very quick to voice his opinion, be harsh in his reactions, and berate for not acting appropriately. In a sense, he is a spoil-sport. With his constantly seeing the negative in anything, it’s a pretty good bet to say he’s a pessimist as well. Well, at least one of the kits had to grow up responsible! This little Chavo’s grumpiness doesn’t really have much to say for itself, though… At least he’s very observant. From the moment he could walk and talk, he was being hired by the various stalls to watch for thieves and pickpockets.
This little watchdog’s fur is pitch black, with no markings--which is pretty uncommon in itself. Even his eyes are a dark shade of blue, contrasting with the brightness of his mother’s gift. Upon his head is a bright purple knit beanie, with pink and peach stripes and a set of eyes on the front to make it look like the Cheshire cat. Naturally, such vivacious tastes displease him. That is to say he hates the hat. Out of the respect that he dredges up from the depths of his soul, however, he wears it. It does keep his ears warm, he has to admit… At least for all his grumpiness and grumbles he’s a pretty honest and fair Chavo, albeit a bit paranoid and sharp.
Vire, the Poisonous Princess Chavi
Italic #F60B88
The Virevol is a giant, poisonous rat creature from the slave planet of Despayre
With a vibrantly red-and-magenta pelt this Chavi is definitely eye-catching. Leopard spots dappling her fur in various violets, purples and pinks only add to the effect, and while there might not be a whole lot of soft fluff, her short and velvety fur really accentuates her wiry, tall frame. And she is indeed tall, able to look over the heads of even many a Kralis. The leopard spots only spare her face, the only markings there being two blush-like, stormy blue-green-grey spots under eyes of the same color. Speaking of eyes, hers are large and almond shaped, and innocent-looking, making you want to pick her up and cuddle her... which is the one thing you must absolutely, never, ever, do. As pretty as she looks, this fox comes with a huge 'DO NOT TOUCH'. From the day she was born, always has she been exposed to poisonous herbs and plants, slowly making her not only completely resistant, but quite deadly, herself. If you are in good health, briefly touching her fur will only sting a bit, though it's still never recommended to touch her with unprotected skin. If you know your ways around flowers, the wreath of oleander she wears around her neck should at least be a warning to stay away. Or the fluffy white snakeroot flowers dangling from her ears. Or the bracelet crafted from hemlock.
Still, dangerous as her body might be, this has become her greatest asset. Over time, a tremendous knowledge of deadly plants - and their medicinal purposes - was collected, and there is hardly an ailment she wouldn't know how to cure. She always has many herbs and plants and self-made medicine stashed neatly away for further use. Everything is labelled and orderly, and there is not a chance she would allow anything to become out of order. Or even allow anyone other than her most trusted partners near her storage. Often she will seem dry and humorless, with an ever soft and quiet voice, only getting loud and frantic if somebody tries to touch her. The rest of the time, though, she is very much the cynic and quite bitter. She longs for contact, to be physically close to someone, but that being impossible made her turn away from emotional proximity as well, even though it would do her a world of good. And there's no confirming it, as she never talks about it, but there just might have been some incidents in the past, if you know what I mean.
The Virevol is a giant, poisonous rat creature from the slave planet of Despayre
With a vibrantly red-and-magenta pelt this Chavi is definitely eye-catching. Leopard spots dappling her fur in various violets, purples and pinks only add to the effect, and while there might not be a whole lot of soft fluff, her short and velvety fur really accentuates her wiry, tall frame. And she is indeed tall, able to look over the heads of even many a Kralis. The leopard spots only spare her face, the only markings there being two blush-like, stormy blue-green-grey spots under eyes of the same color. Speaking of eyes, hers are large and almond shaped, and innocent-looking, making you want to pick her up and cuddle her... which is the one thing you must absolutely, never, ever, do. As pretty as she looks, this fox comes with a huge 'DO NOT TOUCH'. From the day she was born, always has she been exposed to poisonous herbs and plants, slowly making her not only completely resistant, but quite deadly, herself. If you are in good health, briefly touching her fur will only sting a bit, though it's still never recommended to touch her with unprotected skin. If you know your ways around flowers, the wreath of oleander she wears around her neck should at least be a warning to stay away. Or the fluffy white snakeroot flowers dangling from her ears. Or the bracelet crafted from hemlock.
Still, dangerous as her body might be, this has become her greatest asset. Over time, a tremendous knowledge of deadly plants - and their medicinal purposes - was collected, and there is hardly an ailment she wouldn't know how to cure. She always has many herbs and plants and self-made medicine stashed neatly away for further use. Everything is labelled and orderly, and there is not a chance she would allow anything to become out of order. Or even allow anyone other than her most trusted partners near her storage. Often she will seem dry and humorless, with an ever soft and quiet voice, only getting loud and frantic if somebody tries to touch her. The rest of the time, though, she is very much the cynic and quite bitter. She longs for contact, to be physically close to someone, but that being impossible made her turn away from emotional proximity as well, even though it would do her a world of good. And there's no confirming it, as she never talks about it, but there just might have been some incidents in the past, if you know what I mean.
Dalabar, the In the Summertime Kralis
Italic #E34234
[dahl - AH - bar] Hot Body
You know what's wonderful about the summertime? The ability to race who eats their ice cream cones first before the frozen dairy product has the chance to melt. You know what else is awesome about the summer? Those lazy days spent without a care in the world while an equally lazy river winds itself through a valley before you. What's even greater about the summer? The fact that females seem to dress less because of the warmer weather.
This Kralis embodies everything about those wonderful moments and more. His pelt is a dark auburn color, with patches of faded tan upon the back of his head, trailing down his neck to his shoulder and ultimately patterning upon his haunches. His eyes are like the leaves that grow upon the trees and dance within the forgiving summer breeze; a near perfect green in coloration that are always sparkling with life and laughter. His size is large for a tzingani, but in no way is his bulk ever contributed to violence or force. A tried and true gentle giant with his heart set out for love and fun solely. He is never dirty and he's almost always happy, willing to share in his mirth whenever he can with another, no matter how grumpy that other may be at the time. In fact, all the more reason to put a smile on their face, no?
Truly, his bright coloration is enough to tell that this fellow is a character of charm and warm personality. He enjoys many pastimes to whittle away a day with, from fishing, to swimming after catching a said fish, to eventually hopping upon a sailboat with his Bonded in order to dry off his fur with the sea salt tinted wind. One doesn't need alcohol to have a good time - nor do they even need to have fun solely in the summer months either. With this Kralis, one will have a miniature sun at their side, with much dancing, cajoling, and singing even if the weather outside be frightful and as cold as a witch's teat. The summer will certainly come again, with time. Time, after all, is a constant factor of life. You know what else is an everlasting constant of life? Women. And boy, does this Kralis love women. Rich or poor. Beautiful or sullen. He knows what they like and he's a regular Casanova among tzingani. So, if your girl is rich, if she is nice, bring your friends along and we'll all go for an outing into town, just to spend time with one another and fill everyone's lives with laughter and joy. After all, life is for living, isn't it?
[dahl - AH - bar] Hot Body
You know what's wonderful about the summertime? The ability to race who eats their ice cream cones first before the frozen dairy product has the chance to melt. You know what else is awesome about the summer? Those lazy days spent without a care in the world while an equally lazy river winds itself through a valley before you. What's even greater about the summer? The fact that females seem to dress less because of the warmer weather.
This Kralis embodies everything about those wonderful moments and more. His pelt is a dark auburn color, with patches of faded tan upon the back of his head, trailing down his neck to his shoulder and ultimately patterning upon his haunches. His eyes are like the leaves that grow upon the trees and dance within the forgiving summer breeze; a near perfect green in coloration that are always sparkling with life and laughter. His size is large for a tzingani, but in no way is his bulk ever contributed to violence or force. A tried and true gentle giant with his heart set out for love and fun solely. He is never dirty and he's almost always happy, willing to share in his mirth whenever he can with another, no matter how grumpy that other may be at the time. In fact, all the more reason to put a smile on their face, no?
Truly, his bright coloration is enough to tell that this fellow is a character of charm and warm personality. He enjoys many pastimes to whittle away a day with, from fishing, to swimming after catching a said fish, to eventually hopping upon a sailboat with his Bonded in order to dry off his fur with the sea salt tinted wind. One doesn't need alcohol to have a good time - nor do they even need to have fun solely in the summer months either. With this Kralis, one will have a miniature sun at their side, with much dancing, cajoling, and singing even if the weather outside be frightful and as cold as a witch's teat. The summer will certainly come again, with time. Time, after all, is a constant factor of life. You know what else is an everlasting constant of life? Women. And boy, does this Kralis love women. Rich or poor. Beautiful or sullen. He knows what they like and he's a regular Casanova among tzingani. So, if your girl is rich, if she is nice, bring your friends along and we'll all go for an outing into town, just to spend time with one another and fill everyone's lives with laughter and joy. After all, life is for living, isn't it?
Gorani, the Gears, Oil, and Cranks of Progress Female Svata
Bold #FFD733
[go - RAHN - ee] One who works with metal
In a first glance one can tell what hobbies this Svata pursues. She has dark stains on her bod from the oil she works with on a day to day basis. She is rarely seen without her custom made metal working goggles which rest either around her neck or upon her head. Sporting a pair of shin-guards with bits of gemstone embedded into the gilded leather, a tool laden work belt strapped tight about her abdomen, and a collection of precious metal hoops in both ears one can bet with ease that this Svata is a girl with machines in her mind and blood. Well, maybe not, but it's plain to see that she works hard and is prepared for any sort of malfunction about town. Her fur is the brown color of thirsty earth, with a gradient fade to cream on her neck, chest, and belly. The brown of her fur is broken up with patches of light grey and white, mostly concentrated on the back of her neck and shoulders. Her eyes are a vibrant coloration of yellow green, sharp and haunting as she locks gazes with those who stare at her. Her physique is typical of the most average tzingane, but a nasty scar makes her distinguishable from the others of her species. The right half of her face is without fur caused by a severe explosion when she was younger. While her right eye was saved by the use of her goggles, the right side of her face is in constant need of medical care, most of which she takes care of herself. This burn scar extends down along the side of her neck ceasing to be as harsh looking at her shoulder blade. This girl doesn't talk bout it, nor does she tolerate much staring of her deformity. Whatever the cause, it hasn't stopped her from pursuing her passions of metallurgy.
This Svata is indeed a tinkerer of sorts, playing with the power of steam and metal in order to advance the way of life for everyone. Without much regards to her personal health or to the social life she turns her back upon, this Svata pursues her passions for building with ruthless abandon. When she emerges from the smell of wet metal and heat of the power giving flames she is more than eager to share what little trinket she has made, no matter how small the purpose of size. If one were to interrupt her during the process of crafting they would, without a doubt, receive a severe tongue lashing be they friend, Bonded, or stranger. She is almost paranoid of being interrupted, in fact, to the point that she was barricade herself in a workroom until she is sure the device is stable. Keeping true to her tzingane nature, this girl is very inquisitive. The one reason she went into the documentation and exploration of machines that make Isnit live is because they are so complex. And yet, they require a helping hand and maintenance on a scale that no living creature would ever have to depend upon. Beyond that initial interest, her involvement in the documentation of the steam powered devices has turned into a lifestyle for her, building and crafting and designing. She currently has a few jobs in town building such devices and helping to design many more.
[go - RAHN - ee] One who works with metal
In a first glance one can tell what hobbies this Svata pursues. She has dark stains on her bod from the oil she works with on a day to day basis. She is rarely seen without her custom made metal working goggles which rest either around her neck or upon her head. Sporting a pair of shin-guards with bits of gemstone embedded into the gilded leather, a tool laden work belt strapped tight about her abdomen, and a collection of precious metal hoops in both ears one can bet with ease that this Svata is a girl with machines in her mind and blood. Well, maybe not, but it's plain to see that she works hard and is prepared for any sort of malfunction about town. Her fur is the brown color of thirsty earth, with a gradient fade to cream on her neck, chest, and belly. The brown of her fur is broken up with patches of light grey and white, mostly concentrated on the back of her neck and shoulders. Her eyes are a vibrant coloration of yellow green, sharp and haunting as she locks gazes with those who stare at her. Her physique is typical of the most average tzingane, but a nasty scar makes her distinguishable from the others of her species. The right half of her face is without fur caused by a severe explosion when she was younger. While her right eye was saved by the use of her goggles, the right side of her face is in constant need of medical care, most of which she takes care of herself. This burn scar extends down along the side of her neck ceasing to be as harsh looking at her shoulder blade. This girl doesn't talk bout it, nor does she tolerate much staring of her deformity. Whatever the cause, it hasn't stopped her from pursuing her passions of metallurgy.
This Svata is indeed a tinkerer of sorts, playing with the power of steam and metal in order to advance the way of life for everyone. Without much regards to her personal health or to the social life she turns her back upon, this Svata pursues her passions for building with ruthless abandon. When she emerges from the smell of wet metal and heat of the power giving flames she is more than eager to share what little trinket she has made, no matter how small the purpose of size. If one were to interrupt her during the process of crafting they would, without a doubt, receive a severe tongue lashing be they friend, Bonded, or stranger. She is almost paranoid of being interrupted, in fact, to the point that she was barricade herself in a workroom until she is sure the device is stable. Keeping true to her tzingane nature, this girl is very inquisitive. The one reason she went into the documentation and exploration of machines that make Isnit live is because they are so complex. And yet, they require a helping hand and maintenance on a scale that no living creature would ever have to depend upon. Beyond that initial interest, her involvement in the documentation of the steam powered devices has turned into a lifestyle for her, building and crafting and designing. She currently has a few jobs in town building such devices and helping to design many more.
Cylyc, the Rake's a Tyrant Kralis
Bold #F7398E
[SHAH-leesh] Loved by Women
This Lord cannot seem to stay with one woman. If asked why, he will say its their problem. Women always change. They're fickle. They're flighty. The truth is that he is the one that cannot make up his mind. Why would he? He loves moving from one girl to the next. What makes it all worse is that he is so skilled in his seductions that he can play even the most frigid female into his hands. He does this by finding out what they want and becoming that sort of man. You want a nerd? He'll find some glasses. You want a poor soldier, he'll become that too. However, if his charms fail, he's not above abusing his title and getting some poor Chavos to kidnap his flavor of the month so he can force himself on her. Most of the time he goes for the really sweet and innocent ones. Sadly, those are the ones that have the shortest time with him. After he drags their honor through the mud, the fun is over and he's off for more perfumed and lurid adventures. The only women he would remain faithful to are the goddesses of luck and festivals. Men would find him to be a fun man's man. He would buy them a drink, help them find girls. Its just the women that he chooses to deceive. It's almost a compulsion. He can't help it.
This Kralis knows he's good looking. When he is not pretending to be some humble, sweet sap, he carries himself with a confidence you can almost taste. He is middle height for a male tzingane, but he carries himself with such pomposity it tricks others into thinking his the largest and most masculine in the bunch. His features are light, tricking many into thinking that he is some sensitive angel. Nothing could be further from the truth. His coat is golden blond, long and luxurious. It is the kind of pelt that makes strangers want to reach out and touch. His eyes are an ice blue, which have made hundreds of of girls melt. His personal accessory is a silver ring that he wears around his a toe on his front left foot. On this ring is a small silver heart, indicating that he will always have a heart wrapped around his little finger. It's a warning to you all, ladies.
[SHAH-leesh] Loved by Women
This Lord cannot seem to stay with one woman. If asked why, he will say its their problem. Women always change. They're fickle. They're flighty. The truth is that he is the one that cannot make up his mind. Why would he? He loves moving from one girl to the next. What makes it all worse is that he is so skilled in his seductions that he can play even the most frigid female into his hands. He does this by finding out what they want and becoming that sort of man. You want a nerd? He'll find some glasses. You want a poor soldier, he'll become that too. However, if his charms fail, he's not above abusing his title and getting some poor Chavos to kidnap his flavor of the month so he can force himself on her. Most of the time he goes for the really sweet and innocent ones. Sadly, those are the ones that have the shortest time with him. After he drags their honor through the mud, the fun is over and he's off for more perfumed and lurid adventures. The only women he would remain faithful to are the goddesses of luck and festivals. Men would find him to be a fun man's man. He would buy them a drink, help them find girls. Its just the women that he chooses to deceive. It's almost a compulsion. He can't help it.
This Kralis knows he's good looking. When he is not pretending to be some humble, sweet sap, he carries himself with a confidence you can almost taste. He is middle height for a male tzingane, but he carries himself with such pomposity it tricks others into thinking his the largest and most masculine in the bunch. His features are light, tricking many into thinking that he is some sensitive angel. Nothing could be further from the truth. His coat is golden blond, long and luxurious. It is the kind of pelt that makes strangers want to reach out and touch. His eyes are an ice blue, which have made hundreds of of girls melt. His personal accessory is a silver ring that he wears around his a toe on his front left foot. On this ring is a small silver heart, indicating that he will always have a heart wrapped around his little finger. It's a warning to you all, ladies.
Gehare, the Quillful Intoxication Male Svata
Italic #AA7573
[GEH - heh - ray] Loved Stories
Of all the kits in his litter, he will have the most influence and longevity. He is a well loved writer of tales for children. What makes him stick out? Well, his stories are all rather ...odd. He finds his muse at the bottom of a beer barrel which can account for a lot of this. He writes of the mishaps of deformed men, of falling in love with a mechanical doll, of a girl with health so fragile she will die if she sings and etc. Often times he takes these stories from the people around them, grabbing aspects of their character and isolating them to create something really kooky. He could probably count the people that inspire him on one hand. However, those that love him, prepare to be neglected. His writing will always come first, and along with this, his drinking. He shows his affection through his art, so be happy with the immortality you may achieve.
This male looks the part of the disheveled genius. Though this male is one of the bigger kits in his litter, he is gaunt, revealing that he may neglect eating to work on his craft. His blue gray pelt sticks out on ends as if he had stuck his tail in some electrical socket. The fur on his rump is flecked with white and the underside of his tale is colored by a clashing pale gold. His eyes are mismatched, revealing the conflict in his soul between his happiness and his art. One is a pale green, earthy and soft. The other is a surprising purple which makes one think of the supernatural. Creating worlds and people, even fictions is sort of a superpower. His only adornment so far is an earring made from the copper key from a windup doll. Ask him what it was from and he will tell you, 'inspiration'. Po
[GEH - heh - ray] Loved Stories
Of all the kits in his litter, he will have the most influence and longevity. He is a well loved writer of tales for children. What makes him stick out? Well, his stories are all rather ...odd. He finds his muse at the bottom of a beer barrel which can account for a lot of this. He writes of the mishaps of deformed men, of falling in love with a mechanical doll, of a girl with health so fragile she will die if she sings and etc. Often times he takes these stories from the people around them, grabbing aspects of their character and isolating them to create something really kooky. He could probably count the people that inspire him on one hand. However, those that love him, prepare to be neglected. His writing will always come first, and along with this, his drinking. He shows his affection through his art, so be happy with the immortality you may achieve.
This male looks the part of the disheveled genius. Though this male is one of the bigger kits in his litter, he is gaunt, revealing that he may neglect eating to work on his craft. His blue gray pelt sticks out on ends as if he had stuck his tail in some electrical socket. The fur on his rump is flecked with white and the underside of his tale is colored by a clashing pale gold. His eyes are mismatched, revealing the conflict in his soul between his happiness and his art. One is a pale green, earthy and soft. The other is a surprising purple which makes one think of the supernatural. Creating worlds and people, even fictions is sort of a superpower. His only adornment so far is an earring made from the copper key from a windup doll. Ask him what it was from and he will tell you, 'inspiration'. Po
Kugete, the Lifeline in the Big, Fast City Chavo
#0B11A9
[ku - GEH - tay] Suited Bandit
This Chavo is one of the most no-nonsense creatures to ever walk the Weyrd. He lives to serve his Bonded, but perhaps not in the way that one would expect- rather than being subservient, he often takes control of a situation in order to "make the right choices for Mine." Anyone hailing from a large city might recognize the classic signs of a celebrity agent. The Chavo has an incredibly sharp memory and can remember almost anything he chooses to, a talent that is often utilized remembering schedules and appointments and to-do lists...for his Bonded. No one is allowed to make plans without his knowledge (so he can "make sure Mine has an opening") and he rarely leaves his Bonded's side, juuuust in case she comes close to missing an appointment. When it comes to getting things done neatly and in an organized manner, this Chavo will back down to no Tzingane- he'll be respectful to higher ranks, but he'll be firm and he'll refuse to roll onto his back for them.
At first glance, this little fox doesn't look like a fox- he looks like a raccoon. That's probably due to the fact that his colors and patterns are near identical to the masked bandits, save his four snow-white paws and the smattering of white dust on his muzzle. A small, crisp tie of sapphire blue hangs neatly around his neck and an expensive-looking silver watch clings to his left leg. The watch is his most prized possession and any foreseeable danger to it will distract him from his current task immediately.
[ku - GEH - tay] Suited Bandit
This Chavo is one of the most no-nonsense creatures to ever walk the Weyrd. He lives to serve his Bonded, but perhaps not in the way that one would expect- rather than being subservient, he often takes control of a situation in order to "make the right choices for Mine." Anyone hailing from a large city might recognize the classic signs of a celebrity agent. The Chavo has an incredibly sharp memory and can remember almost anything he chooses to, a talent that is often utilized remembering schedules and appointments and to-do lists...for his Bonded. No one is allowed to make plans without his knowledge (so he can "make sure Mine has an opening") and he rarely leaves his Bonded's side, juuuust in case she comes close to missing an appointment. When it comes to getting things done neatly and in an organized manner, this Chavo will back down to no Tzingane- he'll be respectful to higher ranks, but he'll be firm and he'll refuse to roll onto his back for them.
At first glance, this little fox doesn't look like a fox- he looks like a raccoon. That's probably due to the fact that his colors and patterns are near identical to the masked bandits, save his four snow-white paws and the smattering of white dust on his muzzle. A small, crisp tie of sapphire blue hangs neatly around his neck and an expensive-looking silver watch clings to his left leg. The watch is his most prized possession and any foreseeable danger to it will distract him from his current task immediately.
Werdaan, the Mistress of Shadows, Tactician of Smoke and Mirrors Chavi
Italic #9979A0
[WAIR - dahn] darkness
When levels of paranoia reach the point where the afflicted stays up for long periods of time without rest, when each room entered receives a thorough scan for traps or hidden devices, and when ever act of kindness is questioned more than acts of a diabolical nature. . .it's time for the afflicted to undergo therapy, maybe. This Chavi feels a constant threat is out to get her and it could strike from anywhere or at anytime, and everyone who gets close to her is from convenience only. She does not seek friendship or camaraderie from others, and instead is very quiet to the point one might think her mute until she snips and quips. Those she finds herself bristling at are those who trust too readily and those who are just dicks in general. Those people who think that they can get away with anything because of how much power they wield will find a small yet tenacious adversary in this Chavi. She is not brave. She is not stupid enough to face a dragon headlong. She is not fearless. In fact, she is craven, seeking to wrest power away from those who actually hold power - or at least think they do - so she can better wield it against them. She has shallow wells of mercy to boot and is fickle with her loyalties, fickle with her persona that she allows the world to observe. Having little connection to the world she feels no remorse for those that she betrays or leads on. A true wily and foxy lady, she clings to shadow and plays with tricks of light, gaining advantage over others in order to strike them when they least expect it. She is very adequate at setting traps and luring people into pitfalls as she is also quite fast and dextrous with her paws. Heights do not frighten her, constructs give her little pause, and undead are totally critable with her certain set of skills. When someone can work their way through her facades, through her various acts and fronts and get her to stop being so allusive, they'll find a friend who only wants the world to work better. While rather self-centered and selfish with heavy streaks of greed in her soul, these vices get dashed when she comes across someone she actually cares for, and reciprocates care back. It's almost as if her entire life is a game until someone can figure her out, and that she's saving her coin for someone she thinks actually deserves it.
She's small. Diminutive. It's startling how often someone will underestimate her, and she plays into that very con. Her movements are small and uncertain at times, timid until she's flying at her target, hidden and poisoned blades in toe when they were just starting to relax around her. Most times she adopts this harmless and frightened appearance, with her amethyst eyes being almost too wide and watery for her face, and her voice wavering as if a strong wind could carry it from your mind. Her fur is slate grey, with socks of black on each of her legs, and her tail tipped in black. There are dappling patterns of cream about her spine and back, spreading down her sides and shoulders and up onto the back of her head. Her two ears, always alert and at attention, are tipped in black as well. While not very strong, she is extremely hard to catch off-guard or catch at all really when she gets to running. Innately she clings to shadows, virtually unseen if she wills it to be so. She had silk and sheer black scarves tied about each of her legs, trailing down until they are just barely touching the ground, and these conceal her small yet very dangerous knives. She also has gold hoops and a diamond stud in her left ear only.
[WAIR - dahn] darkness
When levels of paranoia reach the point where the afflicted stays up for long periods of time without rest, when each room entered receives a thorough scan for traps or hidden devices, and when ever act of kindness is questioned more than acts of a diabolical nature. . .it's time for the afflicted to undergo therapy, maybe. This Chavi feels a constant threat is out to get her and it could strike from anywhere or at anytime, and everyone who gets close to her is from convenience only. She does not seek friendship or camaraderie from others, and instead is very quiet to the point one might think her mute until she snips and quips. Those she finds herself bristling at are those who trust too readily and those who are just dicks in general. Those people who think that they can get away with anything because of how much power they wield will find a small yet tenacious adversary in this Chavi. She is not brave. She is not stupid enough to face a dragon headlong. She is not fearless. In fact, she is craven, seeking to wrest power away from those who actually hold power - or at least think they do - so she can better wield it against them. She has shallow wells of mercy to boot and is fickle with her loyalties, fickle with her persona that she allows the world to observe. Having little connection to the world she feels no remorse for those that she betrays or leads on. A true wily and foxy lady, she clings to shadow and plays with tricks of light, gaining advantage over others in order to strike them when they least expect it. She is very adequate at setting traps and luring people into pitfalls as she is also quite fast and dextrous with her paws. Heights do not frighten her, constructs give her little pause, and undead are totally critable with her certain set of skills. When someone can work their way through her facades, through her various acts and fronts and get her to stop being so allusive, they'll find a friend who only wants the world to work better. While rather self-centered and selfish with heavy streaks of greed in her soul, these vices get dashed when she comes across someone she actually cares for, and reciprocates care back. It's almost as if her entire life is a game until someone can figure her out, and that she's saving her coin for someone she thinks actually deserves it.
She's small. Diminutive. It's startling how often someone will underestimate her, and she plays into that very con. Her movements are small and uncertain at times, timid until she's flying at her target, hidden and poisoned blades in toe when they were just starting to relax around her. Most times she adopts this harmless and frightened appearance, with her amethyst eyes being almost too wide and watery for her face, and her voice wavering as if a strong wind could carry it from your mind. Her fur is slate grey, with socks of black on each of her legs, and her tail tipped in black. There are dappling patterns of cream about her spine and back, spreading down her sides and shoulders and up onto the back of her head. Her two ears, always alert and at attention, are tipped in black as well. While not very strong, she is extremely hard to catch off-guard or catch at all really when she gets to running. Innately she clings to shadows, virtually unseen if she wills it to be so. She had silk and sheer black scarves tied about each of her legs, trailing down until they are just barely touching the ground, and these conceal her small yet very dangerous knives. She also has gold hoops and a diamond stud in her left ear only.
Torlah, the Many-Splendored Shades of Justice Shuv’ani
#C0C0C0
[tohr - LAH] Lady of Justice
She is strong, wise, and regal. She is a Shuv’ani… albeit an untried and untested one. Under her mother’s domineering eye, she’s had little chance to exercise her rank, aside from arbitrating disputes between her siblings, and keeping a watchful eye on those who need it. She takes special care to ensure that those who might otherwise be left behind are still included, such as those who can’t speak for themselves, or whose voices might be overwhelmed by larger and louder ones. Think of her as an administrator, ensuring that all sides are carefully considered before any decisions are made. But she isn’t all cold, businesslike logic, and she hasn’t inherited her mother’s high-strung temperament. Rest assured that she will be a just and open-minded Queen… once she has the chance to show what she’s made of.
Just as a Shuv’ani should be, she is fair to look upon. Her fur gleams silver in almost any light, accenting the gold-and-pearl earring that is her first trinket, just as her mother’s was. Her eyes are a sweet shade of honey brown, which rarely take on any look of sharpness or anger. Patience is a virtue she possesses, after living quietly under her mother’s domineering watch. There is little doubt she’ll be a skilled and fair ruler of Tzingani, but secretly, she doubts herself. With almost no experience in taking on the role she was born into, she worries that she might make a mistake, or do something improperly that would bring shame on herself, her bonded, and those she looks after. She hopes that her chosen one will be able to both offer her encouragement, and gently redirect her if they feel her judgement is going astray.
[tohr - LAH] Lady of Justice
She is strong, wise, and regal. She is a Shuv’ani… albeit an untried and untested one. Under her mother’s domineering eye, she’s had little chance to exercise her rank, aside from arbitrating disputes between her siblings, and keeping a watchful eye on those who need it. She takes special care to ensure that those who might otherwise be left behind are still included, such as those who can’t speak for themselves, or whose voices might be overwhelmed by larger and louder ones. Think of her as an administrator, ensuring that all sides are carefully considered before any decisions are made. But she isn’t all cold, businesslike logic, and she hasn’t inherited her mother’s high-strung temperament. Rest assured that she will be a just and open-minded Queen… once she has the chance to show what she’s made of.
Just as a Shuv’ani should be, she is fair to look upon. Her fur gleams silver in almost any light, accenting the gold-and-pearl earring that is her first trinket, just as her mother’s was. Her eyes are a sweet shade of honey brown, which rarely take on any look of sharpness or anger. Patience is a virtue she possesses, after living quietly under her mother’s domineering watch. There is little doubt she’ll be a skilled and fair ruler of Tzingani, but secretly, she doubts herself. With almost no experience in taking on the role she was born into, she worries that she might make a mistake, or do something improperly that would bring shame on herself, her bonded, and those she looks after. She hopes that her chosen one will be able to both offer her encouragement, and gently redirect her if they feel her judgement is going astray.
Miit'cyi, the My Heart Is Ever At Your Service Chavo
italics #ff9966
[MEET-shee] Long Lasting Words
This little guy was once bitten and twice shy. You see, he fell in love once.
He had chased a beautiful queen. He remembers her eyes like the first sun of spring, the warmth of her presence like the dawn. Her pawprints in the sand remained etched in his memory like craters on the moon, her laughter spreading like ripples on a lake. She was beautiful, with flaxen fur bespeckled with honeyed tones, a tasteful array of jewelry resting upon her blessed chest, and a sheer purple scarf patterned with gold suns and moons gently draped over her shoulders and head. He thought he had won her over. They had laughed, they had shared heartfelt secrets. Sweet whispers, gentle confessions, for hours and hours. Some of the other suitors had already left, impatient, while he, lowly chavo that he was, appeared to be winning. He worshipped her, kind, clever, and brave.
But in the end, it was not meant to be. No matter how ardently he loved her, there was a Kralis who simply had more to offer. He still beats himself up over it. Had he perhaps been more adventurous, more industrious, more—oh, who knows, maybe bigger? He might have been enough for her. He now walks slowly with a droop to his shoulders, prone to sighing and forlornly staring into space. Alas. He thinks he will never love again.
This jilted lover seems gloomy and brooding, bitter over the Shuv’ani that stole his heart. A true lovesick poet, he has a rather special gift in the romance department. Your broken-hearted chavo has a rare knack for sentimentality, and is adept at picking the perfect gift for someone (especially useful for picking out something the person will cherish forever based on that one obscure detail they mentioned in passing that you totally didn’t listen to) for any occasion. He shrugs it off as though it was nothing, aloof, pretending he doesn’t actually care. But oh, does he ever. Torn between wanting to help orchestrate the perfect date to help you win the love of your life and his raging need to protect you from heartache, he will argue tooth and nail for you to not go out with that certain so-and-so, but, if you can convince him otherwise, will begrudgingly work his magic to set the stage for an evening of romantic bliss. However, in his eyes, no one will ever be good enough to deserve you.
Tender and sensitive, this chavo’s hardened exterior is only a means of self-defense. His last run-in with heartbreak nearly ruined him, and he doesn't want to experience it again (first-hand or second-hand through your own experiences) and as such, it is uncertain whether he will ever chase again to risk it. In Salimity, he finds a new outlet for his outpourings of affection. And to him, that is more than enough.
This chavo wants nothing but the best for you, and will readily cuddle you close to give you whatever affirmation he can of your worth, your beauty, and your strength of character. He will stop at nothing to help you love yourself when it feels like the world is crashing down around you. Oh, and he has the best taste in ice cream.
With fur in a soft, light grey dappled in flecks of charcoal and russet, this handsome lover has a distinctive pelt, with the tips of his ears and the end of his tail taking on the darker tufts of grey. Amber eyes blink stark in contrast to the neutral space of his features. His adornments are few, but deliberate. In one ear, he has a simple rose gold heart-shaped stud below an industrial-style golden arrow through the length of his ear. The other ear has a pair of white gold rings, and a small sun shaped stud in the same style as his dear queen’s shawl. Better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all.
He keeps a small trove of devastatingly beautiful poetry under lock and key; read with care.
[MEET-shee] Long Lasting Words
This little guy was once bitten and twice shy. You see, he fell in love once.
He had chased a beautiful queen. He remembers her eyes like the first sun of spring, the warmth of her presence like the dawn. Her pawprints in the sand remained etched in his memory like craters on the moon, her laughter spreading like ripples on a lake. She was beautiful, with flaxen fur bespeckled with honeyed tones, a tasteful array of jewelry resting upon her blessed chest, and a sheer purple scarf patterned with gold suns and moons gently draped over her shoulders and head. He thought he had won her over. They had laughed, they had shared heartfelt secrets. Sweet whispers, gentle confessions, for hours and hours. Some of the other suitors had already left, impatient, while he, lowly chavo that he was, appeared to be winning. He worshipped her, kind, clever, and brave.
But in the end, it was not meant to be. No matter how ardently he loved her, there was a Kralis who simply had more to offer. He still beats himself up over it. Had he perhaps been more adventurous, more industrious, more—oh, who knows, maybe bigger? He might have been enough for her. He now walks slowly with a droop to his shoulders, prone to sighing and forlornly staring into space. Alas. He thinks he will never love again.
This jilted lover seems gloomy and brooding, bitter over the Shuv’ani that stole his heart. A true lovesick poet, he has a rather special gift in the romance department. Your broken-hearted chavo has a rare knack for sentimentality, and is adept at picking the perfect gift for someone (especially useful for picking out something the person will cherish forever based on that one obscure detail they mentioned in passing that you totally didn’t listen to) for any occasion. He shrugs it off as though it was nothing, aloof, pretending he doesn’t actually care. But oh, does he ever. Torn between wanting to help orchestrate the perfect date to help you win the love of your life and his raging need to protect you from heartache, he will argue tooth and nail for you to not go out with that certain so-and-so, but, if you can convince him otherwise, will begrudgingly work his magic to set the stage for an evening of romantic bliss. However, in his eyes, no one will ever be good enough to deserve you.
Tender and sensitive, this chavo’s hardened exterior is only a means of self-defense. His last run-in with heartbreak nearly ruined him, and he doesn't want to experience it again (first-hand or second-hand through your own experiences) and as such, it is uncertain whether he will ever chase again to risk it. In Salimity, he finds a new outlet for his outpourings of affection. And to him, that is more than enough.
This chavo wants nothing but the best for you, and will readily cuddle you close to give you whatever affirmation he can of your worth, your beauty, and your strength of character. He will stop at nothing to help you love yourself when it feels like the world is crashing down around you. Oh, and he has the best taste in ice cream.
With fur in a soft, light grey dappled in flecks of charcoal and russet, this handsome lover has a distinctive pelt, with the tips of his ears and the end of his tail taking on the darker tufts of grey. Amber eyes blink stark in contrast to the neutral space of his features. His adornments are few, but deliberate. In one ear, he has a simple rose gold heart-shaped stud below an industrial-style golden arrow through the length of his ear. The other ear has a pair of white gold rings, and a small sun shaped stud in the same style as his dear queen’s shawl. Better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all.
He keeps a small trove of devastatingly beautiful poetry under lock and key; read with care.
Yor'steed, the Fires of my Passion Shall Cleanse the World Chavo
Bold #0e3ae5
He dreams of a world where good wins out over regulations and bureaucracy. War is a bygone nightmare and the weak are never taken advantage of. In his vision, he sees only one way to achieve this and that's by being the master. As a Chavo, this is unlikely, but that only contributes to his ire. He was never awarded the title of Lord because of his arrogance toward others. Yor'steed is stubborn when he feels he is strongly right. He also comes off as flippant and a womanizer, forgoing paperwork and camp duties in order to chase skirts. This personality is a front, belying a remarkably driven soul - he does not adhere to tzingani social codes, not caring if this ostracizes him from his species. He usurps ranks, never handing out his respect because he's 'supposed' to. When the situation calls for it, he can swallow his pride and play social games, though he'd rather people just get along for merit's sake, not rank nor tradition.
His pelt is ebony with a healthy sheen. His eyes are dark brown, giving him the appearance of a living shadow. He stands tall, with military poise. His voice is deep and full of authority. For all appearances, he fills the part of a Kralis. When he chases, he never hides his rank, but will directly challenge anyone who takes issue with him. His claws are tipped with flint so as he runs he showers sparks on others. It's good for survival in the camp, and immensely useful in combat and chases since many don't expect a tzingane who plays with fire.
His pelt is ebony with a healthy sheen. His eyes are dark brown, giving him the appearance of a living shadow. He stands tall, with military poise. His voice is deep and full of authority. For all appearances, he fills the part of a Kralis. When he chases, he never hides his rank, but will directly challenge anyone who takes issue with him. His claws are tipped with flint so as he runs he showers sparks on others. It's good for survival in the camp, and immensely useful in combat and chases since many don't expect a tzingane who plays with fire.
Aburkayn, the Peerless Leader of the Scouts Kindly Requests you go Proud into Your Death Chavo
#763474
This tzingane is stern. He's cold and comes across to many as heartless. Rivai, the South, has ultimate respect for him even with him being a Common Chavo. Somehow, he has established a camp of creatures in the mountains that work together to survive the harshness of the environment. And all of the creatures respect him for it. He is an amazing tactician and never finds himself asking someone to do something he wouldn't do himself. However, this earns him a reputation of being cold. He doesn't talk about himself - not his dreams, not his personal hopes, not his desires, wants, nor needs - but only about the needs and future of the group as well as idealogies that pertain to the group's survival. He's also not very good with combat anymore as his age advances, but he's got the brave face to stare down death unflinchingly all the same. Perhaps one of his unspoken desires was earned from his father, a proud and still kindly Kralis who spoke to the tenets of a strong and well-established education. For this, Aburkayn always seeks to learn and covets knowledge, along with all the power it grants.
He is a large Chavo, with muck of his past filled with glory and conquest. One of his legs has been removed, and numerous scars break up the once gleaming coat. He appears more like a panthera than a tzingane. He has the choice to wear a wooden prothestic with his leather harness, but maybe it's his pride that prevents him from wearing it constantly. His fur is a mix of gradients and bands of dark grey and brown rows over a creamy tan base. His eyes are a striking olive green, like grass that's been withered under a harsh sun.
This tzingane is stern. He's cold and comes across to many as heartless. Rivai, the South, has ultimate respect for him even with him being a Common Chavo. Somehow, he has established a camp of creatures in the mountains that work together to survive the harshness of the environment. And all of the creatures respect him for it. He is an amazing tactician and never finds himself asking someone to do something he wouldn't do himself. However, this earns him a reputation of being cold. He doesn't talk about himself - not his dreams, not his personal hopes, not his desires, wants, nor needs - but only about the needs and future of the group as well as idealogies that pertain to the group's survival. He's also not very good with combat anymore as his age advances, but he's got the brave face to stare down death unflinchingly all the same. Perhaps one of his unspoken desires was earned from his father, a proud and still kindly Kralis who spoke to the tenets of a strong and well-established education. For this, Aburkayn always seeks to learn and covets knowledge, along with all the power it grants.
He is a large Chavo, with muck of his past filled with glory and conquest. One of his legs has been removed, and numerous scars break up the once gleaming coat. He appears more like a panthera than a tzingane. He has the choice to wear a wooden prothestic with his leather harness, but maybe it's his pride that prevents him from wearing it constantly. His fur is a mix of gradients and bands of dark grey and brown rows over a creamy tan base. His eyes are a striking olive green, like grass that's been withered under a harsh sun.