Sigil (known as Daydream in youth and young adulthood)

Bonded to: . From:

Age: mature adult Born in: Hotdays / summer
Soul Name: kshir Known By: self and Longstrand (former lovemate) Found: under stress
Sex: female Mate Status/Sex Preference: not currently mated, not looking, generally straight? has had one or two close partners, but is not mated at this time; Thought she was Recognized to Longstrand, but it turned out to be gas. >_>
Children: none
Parents/Relatives: Mother – Joy, deceased, and unfortunately named. Joy was never quite happy with anything unless she could compare herself with someone else, thus a lot of her life was filled with putting down others – including her daughter. Father – Vigil, vanished long before Daydream was old enough to know him, and though deceased now, he likely lived quite some time after pairing up with Joy; Siblings: Cowl, half brother, from mother's prior mate – deceased. Abusive, but tricky – plenty of people loved him, but Sigil (then Daydream) was usually the butt of jokes or physical abuses; Apparently has other half-siblings and cousins in the Plains and distant holts, but she's never cared to meet them
Original Tribe: a mishmash of Plains and Coast elves, a trade hub. Arrived to Bald Mountain: year 165
Height: medium-tall for a modern elf, around 4'5” Build: well-rounded, with heavier thighs and more slender upper body, very balanced in proportion. Not terribly muscular, but reasonably healthy and can keep up when needed
Hair Color, Length, Style: Light honey-brown colored hair, dead straight, just above shoulder length in back, and cropped at an angle toward the front
Eye Color, Size, Shape: with hazel-gold green eyes (mostly lightish green, with a dark forest-color rim, and in different lighting appear to sparkle with gold in between).
Skin Tone: Fair to very pale skin, A short, straight nose, Ears that are swept back a little, and have no piercings
Voice Quality: husky and slightly
Clothing -- Summer: usually wears a simple ‘tank top' of cloth, plus loose shorts or knee-length leggings in leather or cloth. Colors depend on the season and what her companions allow her to get away with – prefers greys and blacks, but during winter that could be a bad idea
Clothing -- Winter: Feh, winter clothes?! Bundled, with warm boots and long-sleeved fur lined cloak, at the very least
Jewlery Worn, Made: doesn't care for jewlery
Tatoos/Markings/Scars: but has made a practice of covering any skin with tattoos – tribal designs or images, in colors and black. These tattoos seem to fade somewhat quickly – within an eight of years – so there is usually something new going to be put on when another wears out; she is very pleased that she's not the only elf in the Holt who does this, and has relied upon Squall to do more involved art on her back and places she can't reach, which are also slightly more permanent than those she 'tests' on herself
Pets/Animals Kept: see below
Notable Posessions: Tattoo equipment, made from bone and bamboo, plus inks and dyes created from plant and mineral matter; paints and other such colorful things, for use on people in gathers, parties or war; a collection of drawings and carvings, mostly on parchment and hide but some amount of actual paper or canvas, as well as thin wood or even ivory scrimshaw (she's not good with that, but loves having small carved animals)
Holt Function: recordskeeper and artist
Strength: Below Average
Dexterity: Very High
Agility: Average
Health: Above Average
Size: Above Average
Intelligence: Very High
Appearance: Above Average
Charisma: High
Magic Power: High
Magic? How Powerful? Sending 8/10 and Empathy 9/10 average skill for sending distance, though picks up on emotional outbursts from a farther length, and her up-close mind voice is often rather loud, empathically she offers a soft word or a shoulder to cry on aided by a tiny bit of magic that genuinely picks up spirits and seems to lighten other people's mental load
Magic Feeling 3/10, knows that magic is all around, but doesn't concentrate on it much
Animal Friendship 8/10 This power is at a good level and may bring more than one feline to her aid, but not necessarily bond directly, able to read animal's mood and can to a small degree adjusts their extremes to be more compatible with the group
Healing 3/10 very localized, the ability to make that tattoo she's giving feel “better” and heal up more quickly. This power would not be able to heal dramatic wounds, but soothe aches, mitigate the effects of illness, and definitely softens the physical effects from mental anguish. It works on herself, unconsciously, probably why her own self-tattoo work vanishes so quickly
Climate/Locations Preferred: temperate and slightly breezy, but loves anywhere without a lot of bugs... okay so that's off the plate, 'seasonally varied and not frigid or baking'?
General Likes: summer, autumn, gentle breezes, thunderstorms, a nice warm den, purring cats, the sting of fresh ink
General Dislikes: deep winter, rotten food, singing, parasites – anything trying to make its home on her feline friends hide is quickly removed; pranks – done to her, but in general she doesn't like ‘practical jokes'. They're just not funny to her, and she can think of many, many ways that they're more dangerous than annoying
Fears/Worries: heights to an extent, being too gullible, dealing with her brother's spirit – some day perhaps, she'll have to ‘meet' him again in spirit form. She wants to make sure that this is as far away a time as possible
Special Strange Info: she's a bit on the hoarder side, but mostly for images and notes. Her den would be absolutely filled to the brim with images, on the walls, on scraps of parchment or primative papers, hide, and perhaps even other people if they remain there too long…
Basic Personality: A bit lazy, a bit scatterbrained, but curious and smart – smart enough to know how to find out things that aren't immediately apparent. Sigil is able to look at someone, watch them for a while, listen to their words, and determine basic personality information from them pretty easily. She's normally an exceptional judge of character, except where it comes to lovers, in which case it's all out the window. Normally Sigil is somewhat quiet, but around friends or if she's being asked something as an ‘expert', she gets rather wordy and won't shut up. Also, if she sees something that she disagrees with, she won't hesitate to say so. Though her early life was filled with unease, as her own elf later on she's confident and sometimes even full of herself.
How they feel about
Humans: definitely gets along with them easily and has trouble figuring out why so many elves hate them; she knows the stories, but she herself has rarely encountered humans that are evil or dangerous
Elves -- herders: sweet, food aplenty and you don't need to fuss with hunting? oh and also they drop fur? perfect!
Elves -- magic users: shapers are the heart of many tribes
Elves -- bond-riders: does she count? probably? not as aggressively as some, but it's important to have folks in tune with their mount and friends in the skies
Trolls, etc: those few she's run into were on the Plains, meaning they were either unaware of their terrifying northern kin, or had escaped from them, and she makes friends with them just as easily and eagerly as humans - they have a lot in common and she likes watching them work on things in the forge
Bond Animal Info if any: see below, a new little guy arrived recently, and she's on the prowl for an actual dragon, though maybe not one that flies...

Skills: Tattooing and artistry, at a high level. Has created a system of ‘word pictures' but unless anyone wants to learn them, they're primarily her ‘shorthand notes' and look more just like simple symbols than anything specific. Also has a strong ability with tending animals, both prey and predator, including fixing small wounds or injuries, though anything drastic is going to go over her head. Is excellent at reading animal body language visually when outside of magic use range

Weapon Skills: Generally doesn't hunt, would rather use traps and have the cats catch things for her. Adept enough at small throwing knives or swinging a club for larger prey, and is kind of hard to stop if there's a reason to bash something in… *bappity bappity bappity*. However, it should be said that she won't be depended upon to hunt *for others*, if she starves it's her own fault, but she won't bring that upon anyone else because of her paltry skills. Trapping, though, sees more use with non-lethal capture nooses and spring-loaded grabbing items, rather than pits with spikes or clamps that cut into anything. She doesn't want that stuff *around* her, because knowing her, she'll forget where it is, and wind up with her own leg in a trap

History: (some adult content implied, as this is based on my real life... also originally written up about 10 years ago, so I was definitely in a very different head space then than I am now, and the recent revival of the Nexus has brought so much life back into me :) )

Born to Joy and Vigil, last of Joy's children – Joy was not expecting to carry a child after Cowl, and was considerably older than most new mothers. Daydream had an unremarkable young childhood, save that the only children her ‘age' around the tribe were Humans (and perhaps a Troll). However, as she grew into a more teenaged elf, and started having her own opinion about things, her mother and half-brother would frequently nag her about ‘when are you going to learn to hunt' or ‘that paint won't help us get food for winter' or even ‘why won't you dress pretty and find a mate'. Others in the tribe defended her talent in artistry, she'd demonstrated it at an early age. But the ribbing and the verbal abuse didn't end, even after her brother moved to a nearby village with his lovemate. Whenever he would visit, she felt put upon and sullen. So, Daydream learned to avoid contact with her direct family, though it was difficult until later. For the most part, her gift with art allowed her to trade for small items in exchange for food or clothing, and when that wouldn't be enough, she did have her feline friends to keep her safe.

When Daydream was considered an adult, she did her best to help the tribe out, wherever she could. Though that didn't mean she was an adept huntress, it did mean she knew how to skin and clean kills, and helped out a bit with the tanner's work – mostly with the dyes, which was where she learned much about the dyes used in her tattoos. She didn't start tattooing (herself or anyone else) until she met a traveling tribe of Humans.

She knew that Humans had a history of harming elves, but she's never met one that actually seemed to have it in for her or her people. These were traders, plains-dwellers and they had a tattooist among them. Daydream was immediately drawn to the bright and bold markings on her skin – this woman had made a name for herself among the men! From this Human woman Daydream learned the finer points of how to mix inks that would last, and not cause scars, as well as how to create a fine needle from bone. From this Human, also, she gained a new name, Sigil. Ever grateful, Sigil keeps a single symbol on the back of her left hand, that represents this teacher.

It was during this time of brief wandering that she met her first ‘true love' – Longstrand, a handsome northern elf with very long brown hair and a clever mind. He was much more of a wanderer, knowledgable in the ways of farming and harvesting, and for a good number of years, they enjoyed a lovemating. However, blinded by her own need to have someone near that wasn't abusive or annoying, Sigil offered him her soul name – which he took without returning his own. Shortly after, he split up with her and was last seen with an exotic islander elf. To say that Sigil was humiliated would be an understatement, and she loathes the idea that he knows her inner name.

Eventually Sigil befriended a litter of abandoned cheetah cubs, on the plains. Though they were not truly bonded to her, magically, she observed and trained them – cheetahs make excellent hunting companions, and she was able to survive a number of years alone with only the felines and her art to keep her company.

When she'd come back from the Human lands, she discovered that her mother was ailing, and that her brother had been killed by an angry elf. He was apparently a little too randy for his mate's taste, though it wasn't she who dealt a final blow – it was her daughter from another partner. This, Sigil took with a bit of guilty pleasure. Though she hardly wished death on anyone – her abusive brother had met what she considered a fitting end.

Joy had since slipped into a fevered coma, frail with what appeared to be ‘age' – though in this tribe of immortals, that was impossible, wasn't it? No one really knew what happened to the bitter old elf as she wasted away over the course of an eight of years, but Sigil was now alone in the world, and not all that sad for it.

Now (Bald Mountain Year 160-165), wandering the world with a small pack of cats – varied as the grasslands could give (a pair of cheetahs, a puma, and a long-legged serval-type cat) - Sigil stalked around the plains and gained some knowledge of the world from other passing tribes. She relied upon trading and artistry again, and thankfully some of the elves as well as the humans valued it more than a strong spear-arm on a woman. Fortunately, her dyes and art supplies can easily be made from items at hand, so she doesn't have a very weighty pack with her at any given time. Her feline companions only grudgingly can be used as pack animals

In the early Newgreen season one wandering year, she spotted - or was spotted by - a new kind of bond-rider... who led her farther into the hills and chilly winds than she'd been before, but it turned out to be remarkably for the better, and at Bald Mountain Holt she makes her life once more.

Cheitaen

Name: Cheitaen (chee tan) Gender: Male Size: smol 1'6" s /l/ws Species: Terigon Physical Features: *genes below; a mixture of short and longer thick plush fur; four legs with pawed feet, with thick fur on lower and a back stripe of fur on higher parts; two feather wings with furry edge; big floofy long tail; muzzle is squared with external ears having tufts, thick mane; egg layer Colors: body (short fur) medium yellow with dark brown spots and cheetah-like face; accent fur brown; wings very pale grey (white) with brown and yellow tips; blue eyes Stats: Strength 0, Speed 7, Endurance 2, Agility 6, Health 3, Intelligence 3 Abilities: Winged Flight, Cheitaen is super speedy in the air, contrasting with his absolute sloth when being held or sleeping; he has two speeds - zippy and dead to the world Teleportation - oh gods they can teleport? right behind you, directly underfoot, no matter what the condition is, Cheitaen is definitely going for maximum trip impact Telepathy - a mental energy just like his flight, he's either groggy and adorable, or almost too fast to understand Verbal Speech - see above, he has a chirpy, prrt-centric pattern of speech that not everyone can follow, but to Sigil it's music... Parents: unknown Origin: Phe bday gift 2022 :) Genetic code: SS E4E4 ww Tt Y1Y2 C3C3 Ll X1X2 Uu I1I3 nn P6P6 R2R2 AA Other Info: "That's ... a lot of cats," Apogee muttered, looking around at the new arrival's settled-in den. They had plenty of space, everyone who wanted their own locale could easily be shown to one of the semi-natural caves that were scattered about Bald Mountain. As a trader and artist, Sigil had actually been packing quite a lot of stuff when she'd arrived, and now that it was all unpacked and being put up as decorations, Apogee had to admit there was some skill here. Most of the artwork that the elf put up were drawings and some few woodcuttings of cats, but they also had recognizable scribbling marks which were 'words' - their names probably. Apogee couldn't read them, maybe she'd pick up on them later. "Yeah, I mean... they travel with me, whether they stay or not is up to them." She glanced at the pile of furry felines, but then reached into it for just one in particular. She held up an oddity - this one... had wings. Apogee looked with some confusion at it. It was smaller by far than the others, so it was young? The creature started squirming, waking up abruptly and mock-protesting to being held in such an undignified manner under Sigil's chin. Its furry paws waggled around, tail started to swing, and it wriggled its head under her mouth to pretend to bite. "Well, another one won't really matter if it can hunt," Apogee muttered. "Oh this one's special, it can talk." Sigil presented the creature at arms length, and it looked Apogee dead in the eye and giggled. It kept squirming and reached out with its admittedly-adorable paw but Apogee just nodded and backed away slowly. She'd get used to the presence of so many more cats, but she'd never exactly be a 'cat person' like everyone in her old Holt had been. The creature chittered at her in a speedy voice that 'he was pleased to meet her be sure to visit!' followed by Sigil's raucous laughter...