Post by catplanetcatplanet on Jul 23, 2011 12:02:29 GMT -5
IGN (ingame name, by which you will be whitelisted): Vertigo2014
Character's Name: Wesh (HUMAN)
Character's Age: 28
A short description of your character's demeanor, style, etc: He seems antisocial at first, but is faithful to friends. He would rather fight from afar than risk his life at the front lines. He's a picky eater and not the best house guest but fond of his favorites (Fluffy Omelets).
A short biography of your character: Wesh was always fond of cats. He liked them so much that he hung out with the alley cats more than his schoolfriends. Brought up in an average family, he soon learned he could communicate with the cats. After some investigation, he discovered he could channel his telepathic energy through a stick. However, the energy was unreliable and hard to control. He decided to go to the New World, where it was rumored there were people who could craft him the device he needed to channel his energies properly.
Some of the things your character hopes to do in the New World: Get a wand, hang out with cats. Use his skills where he feels they should be used.
Backstory
PART 1 Ship's Cat
"Looks like we're twice as lucky this trip!"
The crew's jeers no longer rang through Wesh's ears. He knew that now was the last time to have an outburst, which would leave him with a lifetime in jail. He didn't know if the telepathy was powerful enough to kill, but he wasn't eager to find out.
Wesh excused himself from the table and retreated to his cabin. It was closest to the rotten planks that let up air from the bilges, and Wesh could barely stand the smell. However, his companion, the real ship's cat, helped him take his mind off the rotten air. The cat wasn't especially bright to start with and had had his own share of bumps, but he could carry on a conversation.
That was the weird thing. Wesh could talk to cats. He could talk to other animals too, but they were generally even stupider than the tom he sat across from now.
Just then, Wesh heard a thundercrack. The cat dove under the bed and Wesh's instinct was to do the same thing, but the cat's glare indicated that the space was not to be shared.
The storm was for real. Wesh took several minutes to get above deck to see what was going on. The waves were several feet high by then, and, of course, there was no one at the helm. The crew was stoned, and Wesh had no idea how to steer a ship. But he saw lighter clouds in the distance and knew that was the way to go.
Wesh struggled to climb the stairs. He looked to the next stair for encouragement, but upon reaching it only found its compatriot waiting six inches ahead. He almost reached the top, too.
That was when the second strange thing happened. Wesh lost his grip and almost flew down to the lower deck. He thought he was going to break his neck, his back and his dreams. But he found himself a second later flat on his feet.
Not for long. The next big wave kicked the ship like an angry horse. Wesh was graciously sent soaring through the storm, closer, closer, and he was over the rail. He grabbed at the sides of the ship without success....
The next thing he realized was that he was underwater. He never liked water very much. It was so... wet. His parents didn't complain his drinking milk, though.
But now he had to reach the surface. He couldn't see the sky through the clouds, and he didn't know how far up the surface was. He prayed to whatever divine figure there was that he would never take a breath for granted again.
No use. He was blacking out. His field of view got smaller and smaller...and smaller...
PART II A NEW BEGINNING
OUCH.
Wesh slammed into the rock harder than the surf. Jolted out of half-consciousness and flung into the air by the impact, Wesh barely had time to brace himself. But it didn't matter. As usual, he landed flat on his feet.
It didn't help him very much; the rocks were more slippery than live cod. Wesh managed to grab a hold of the boulder and clamber his way to shore.
Shore? He had made landfall. The ship was not nearly as lucky.
Now he had to find food and shelter. He moved towards what appeared to be a bay. Perhaps he would find some food there.
He turned the corner and saw... cobblestone? That wasn't natural. In the early morning haze the wall seemed like a dream, and Wesh's eyes slowly followed it to the magnificent lighthouse, and best of all, and entrance. Wesh summoned his energy and climbed the steep stairs.
PART III MURPHY'S LAW
Character's Name: Wesh (HUMAN)
Character's Age: 28
A short description of your character's demeanor, style, etc: He seems antisocial at first, but is faithful to friends. He would rather fight from afar than risk his life at the front lines. He's a picky eater and not the best house guest but fond of his favorites (Fluffy Omelets).
A short biography of your character: Wesh was always fond of cats. He liked them so much that he hung out with the alley cats more than his schoolfriends. Brought up in an average family, he soon learned he could communicate with the cats. After some investigation, he discovered he could channel his telepathic energy through a stick. However, the energy was unreliable and hard to control. He decided to go to the New World, where it was rumored there were people who could craft him the device he needed to channel his energies properly.
Some of the things your character hopes to do in the New World: Get a wand, hang out with cats. Use his skills where he feels they should be used.
Backstory
PART 1 Ship's Cat
"Looks like we're twice as lucky this trip!"
The crew's jeers no longer rang through Wesh's ears. He knew that now was the last time to have an outburst, which would leave him with a lifetime in jail. He didn't know if the telepathy was powerful enough to kill, but he wasn't eager to find out.
Wesh excused himself from the table and retreated to his cabin. It was closest to the rotten planks that let up air from the bilges, and Wesh could barely stand the smell. However, his companion, the real ship's cat, helped him take his mind off the rotten air. The cat wasn't especially bright to start with and had had his own share of bumps, but he could carry on a conversation.
That was the weird thing. Wesh could talk to cats. He could talk to other animals too, but they were generally even stupider than the tom he sat across from now.
Just then, Wesh heard a thundercrack. The cat dove under the bed and Wesh's instinct was to do the same thing, but the cat's glare indicated that the space was not to be shared.
The storm was for real. Wesh took several minutes to get above deck to see what was going on. The waves were several feet high by then, and, of course, there was no one at the helm. The crew was stoned, and Wesh had no idea how to steer a ship. But he saw lighter clouds in the distance and knew that was the way to go.
Wesh struggled to climb the stairs. He looked to the next stair for encouragement, but upon reaching it only found its compatriot waiting six inches ahead. He almost reached the top, too.
That was when the second strange thing happened. Wesh lost his grip and almost flew down to the lower deck. He thought he was going to break his neck, his back and his dreams. But he found himself a second later flat on his feet.
Not for long. The next big wave kicked the ship like an angry horse. Wesh was graciously sent soaring through the storm, closer, closer, and he was over the rail. He grabbed at the sides of the ship without success....
The next thing he realized was that he was underwater. He never liked water very much. It was so... wet. His parents didn't complain his drinking milk, though.
But now he had to reach the surface. He couldn't see the sky through the clouds, and he didn't know how far up the surface was. He prayed to whatever divine figure there was that he would never take a breath for granted again.
No use. He was blacking out. His field of view got smaller and smaller...and smaller...
PART II A NEW BEGINNING
OUCH.
Wesh slammed into the rock harder than the surf. Jolted out of half-consciousness and flung into the air by the impact, Wesh barely had time to brace himself. But it didn't matter. As usual, he landed flat on his feet.
It didn't help him very much; the rocks were more slippery than live cod. Wesh managed to grab a hold of the boulder and clamber his way to shore.
Shore? He had made landfall. The ship was not nearly as lucky.
Now he had to find food and shelter. He moved towards what appeared to be a bay. Perhaps he would find some food there.
He turned the corner and saw... cobblestone? That wasn't natural. In the early morning haze the wall seemed like a dream, and Wesh's eyes slowly followed it to the magnificent lighthouse, and best of all, and entrance. Wesh summoned his energy and climbed the steep stairs.
PART III MURPHY'S LAW