Parduseros Wanted: That gorgeousness up there. 8D
Name: Cial.
Pronounced: [see-al].
Gener: Female.
Link to character thread: Click.
Personality:Smooth, seductive, creative and alluring, Cial is the ultimate temptress.
She was reared alone and has learned to be very imaginative with how to manipulate others. When she encounters strangers, or anyone at all, she uses them to twist to her advantage. Cial does not appreciate company and in fact prefers being alone then meeting with others.
Lacking a specific maternal drive, Cial has never really had an urge to reproduce, and in fact doesn't ever think about having a litter herself. Her parents were distant from her, as all mostly are, and since Cial has no specific desire kittens, it is quite possible she will never have any at all.
Cial is only comfortable in the snow and ice peaks, and hate when spring rolls around and sometimes melts a layer off. The females has a certain disgust for high temperatures although occassionally she will wander a little further just to see what is out past her white tundra.
Vain and arrogant, Cial believes that she is pretty; and no one better tell her otherwise. She has a certain attraction to the stars and will sometimes lay outside for hours on end just to watch them; it is a soft spot of hers, for the loves the company of the cold, glittering galaxies.
The one time that she will risk the companionship of others is only when they might offer her something to learn; whether this be secrets, mythology, stories, or legends of their culture, she will allow them passage and perhaps safe haven for the night if they provide her something so interesting. This exchange means little to most that come through, but Cial feeds on this knowledge; it is not as though it is useful for her, but she enjoys knowing all these little things, and sometimes she will share her own stories with the loners who show some sort of interest in return.
Cial imagines herself a fortune-teller, and the payment is secrets; this is where it truly comes in handy. She will trade a fortune for a secret, and whether or not it comes true is, as she says, "up to their devotion to the truth". In all honesty, its a scam.
Backstory:The sign of the shooting star on the eve of my birth was something that came around and bit me in the butt.
I was never supposed to be born beneath that omen; no one was. Those pregnant during this time would lay flat for hours and pray that tonight would not be that night, and watch the flurry of stars that drifted down to the mortal plane. But my mother was not one of those lucky ones; and I was born just as the biggest rainstorm of stars ever seen came down.
Immediately, she tried to hide my birth. She buried the evidence and snuggled me underneath her fluffy underbelly and hoped none would notice; but the scent of new life surrounded her, and the rumors spread like wildfire through the others. It took only a few days to return to her, and she knew that all had been ruined; no other male would ever take her again for fear of her producing another child at the star showers eclipse.
From that point on, she detested me. Her vivid eyes, always burning into my hide, were gruesome; and as soon as I was old enough to fend for myself, she cast me out. She had always believed it was somehow my fault her life had been ruined; that I had been some twisted omen that she had read incorrectly and had been cursed with me.
By then, I had the attitude of a predator and I forgot my mother swiftly. She was merely another foggy memory behind me, something I would never pry into again; and it was then that my obsession for learning other's secrets grew.
I traveled as most all of my single kind did, prowling across the tundras, making my home in abandoned hollows for a night or two before moving on. I had a severe case of the wanderlust and in my travels I passed many of my species; and those who didn't flippantly ignored me were usually more then happy to give a sweet little yearling their stories. My fascination grew; of all these cultures and places, everybody else had experienced something different.
Not once though was I attracted to a male, not until I came across one named Zayn. He was a Tundra, like me, and although his eyes were darker and his spirit wilder, we connected. We passionately came together such as two natural disasters might meet and, for a few brief seconds, merge.
When he left, it broke my heart. I pulled myself together, ignored the brutal fact that no litter stirred within my womb, and moved on. Occasionally, when illness wracks my mind and body and I find myself lost in the drugged world of hallucinations and nightmares, his vibrant eyes will watch me and below them, curved in the shadows, is that familiar smirk.
I always wake damp with fever and shivering with memories. Over the years I learned how to forget; and how instead to replace those gaping holes in my childhood, my affairs, with the lives and loves of others. I adapted. I moved on.
It was only then that I began breathing my reputation into the ears of others. I would stumble across territories and approach the holder and if they were aggressive, leave. But occasionally I would come across mothers with near-grown cubs, or the elderly that had little fight left in them anyway; and it was to these that I spoke of my foreshadowing. I told them that I could see the future in my gnarled dreams and swore to them that there was an easy way to entice me to tell theirs; through the giving of secrets.
It took a few months, but by the time I returned to my main territory, a collection of nomadic tundra beasts lurked around the edges. They appeared to have come separate from the others, for none of them waiting together; yet when I approached they crowded my side, begging to know their future.
With a manipulative smirk and a glitter to my brilliant eyes, I soothed their excitement and calmly sat down on the edge of my den, watching them. One by one, I demanded my payment; and they bore their souls in front of the remainder of the audience, who watched me silently and respectfully. As soon as I was satisified by their story, I would open my mouth and spin them a story.
It wasn't as though I could literally tell the future; I myself knew that it was merely a strong luck towards guessing the correct items. I was a fantastic storyteller, and even when foreshadowing, no one ever bored; I knew what I was doing despite not even being blessed with the gift.
Eventually so many beings visited me that I set up a sort of, what I considered, schedule. In the light of the yearly star storm, I resisted company completely and refused them onto my territory. It was during this week-long celebration that I would curl up beneath the astronomy and bare my soul in return to their cold, distant diamond spheres.
Breeding season won me no favors; although many a male came to court me, unknowing of my origin beneath the galaxy, I chased them off. It was the only time I was openly aggressive; and the only males I allowed through my territory were those seeking only the wisdom of my words.
Anything Else?: Nope. c: Except she'll get lotsa art and love from us; and I know I will definitely slip her into some of my stories. <3 I have a ton of ideas for things to do with her, and more then that, I just love the idea of her.
[wip]
Gah, she's just too pretty to ignore. o3o