Drumline Mimic
Username: -3B-
Name: Corps
Reasoning: Drumlines and Brasslines are usually associated with the word corps, as they used to lead troops into battle.
Gender: Male
Reasoning: Drumlines and Brasslines are predominately male, though that is changing.
Personality:
Sharp. As most drumlines and other marching band-type groups are told to 'snap-to', Corps is quick to think, move, and, unfortunately, judge. He's got a quick eye out for mistakes, and he does his best to fix them.
Patient. Just as a proper show comes together in a matter of months, Corps does not mind lengthy projects. He is a bit of a perfectionist, and is patient enough to work through to the end.
Bold. Corps does like to impress... and he'll go at length to do it. Marching bands spend months developing hard, bold moves that impress the judges... Corps, for the most part, has no judges to impress, but that doesn't mean he won't try anyway.
Hardworking. There are no water-breaks for Corps. He does not procrastinate or lose focus.
Short History:
Atten-hut!
GO.
Corps' life began quietly, in the research compounds run by anthromorphic beings. He was created initially as a soldier meant to be sent out for search-and-track missions, but was deemed too small and ill-equipped for such things. He was then trained as entertainment and a pet for the Facility; they taught him various tricks and expected him to learn to carry or pull small boxes of information and equipment from one side of the building to another.
However, when the Facility was destroyed by one of the subjects housed inside, Corps had to adjust to life on the outside... which was not a small task.
With the wolves siding with the destructive forces acting on the land, the hunters began hunting for the sake of killing. This left Corps in danger; As small as he was, he could not defend himself if they caught sight of him and decided that he would be fun to execute. He decided to run toward the only safe haven he could find - the Myth Mountains, where the chessplayers that played out the forces of nature lived. Slowly, slowly he made his way to the range, making himself scare whenever the baying of the packs became too close. Finally, he reached the foothills and promptly made his way toward the middle of the range.
It wasn't long before he started meeting with the feared guardians of the chessplayers. A huge, tiger-striped cat with wings and ram horns watched him from every corner, those fierce green eyes stalking him, with his teeth bared. A brown eagle, gold streaks making the sunlight dance over her feathers, soared overhead, her screech warning him not to come closer.
His bold streak won out, and he continued on.
It was only when he came face-to-face with the cat that he stopped. Jakuta, the Parduseros guardian of the mountains, towered over him, those powerful wings raised to strike him if he tried to fly away. "You persist. Why have you come here? These mountains are sacred!"
"I seek safety... it is too dangerous out there for little ones such as me." Corps did not stutter; his voice and stance were strong, no matter his disadvantage. This, perhaps, intrigued Jakuta; the orange and black hackles lowered, the cold, green eyes considering.
"They grant no mortal asylum. You're safe here, but do not leave this area. I will be watching you... further attempts to reach the Immortals will result in your demise, do you hear?" The large cat turned, his long, wide tail sweeping over Corps' head.
"You're sparing me. Why?"
Jakuta paused, looking back. Corps stood strong, his head held high as he waited for an answer. "I guess I admire your spunk. Reminds me of someone I once knew."
Corps watched at the large beast left, experienced paws easily taking on the landscape. He'd figure it out, one day.
Why you want this mimic:
As an ex-marching band member, I've always had a soft spot for anything remotely band-o - themed. Though I was never anything more than a flautist, I admired the other sections, and especially the ones that participated in Indoor Drumline. I enjoyed watching the Quints and Snares do their intricate little tricks that the director was so fond of, and the basses intrigued me as they shuffled and re-shuffled themselves on the "field".
I want this mimic because it reminds me of the days that I spent on that hot field, learning, re-learning, practicing, and performing each of those sets until my body could barely move, let alone help the Pit haul their equipment back to the band room. It reminds me of the Indoor Drumline as they went through one of my favorite shows of theirs, involving construction equipment and various other unorthodox and improvised instruments. I'd love to incorporate the ethics and various ideas I got from my experience in Marching Band into his story, though I may need to develop an entirely different arc for him - which I would gladly do.
How it fits with the helpful hints:
The design fits because it is just like the uniform; it recalls various bit and pieces, as well as the general idea. My Internet cannot handle video right now - no matter how much I'd love to watch, I just can't - so I cannot relate the show to the uniform and design, unfortunately.
Cymbals.