[Nimaine]

Username:

Nimaine

Name:

Jero

Age (at most 200):

10

Gender:

male

Personality:

arrogant
Jero thinks highly of himself. If he thinks he can get away with a bit of disrespect, then he will act disrespectful. He's pretty self-centered in general, too.

braggart
Okay, so maybe he really can't do all those things he says he can... yet. He'll be able to do them someday, no worries. Maybe he isn't the best... yet. But he will be, and then you'd better watch out!

ambitious
Young and eager, Jero quickly takes missions, without regard to danger. He knows he's the best, but sometimes you actually have to actually show proof to get people to believe you. He'll show them proof, all right.

loyal-ish
To his friends he is loyal, even unto death. To his allies, the humans and other gryphons, he's fairly loyal too. He doesn't dream of treachery, he believes his greatness will earn him anything he desires. Of course, if he has to use some sneaky tactics to make the other stupid gryphons believe him, he will.

deceptive
Jero loves using his acting skills to make other gryphons and sabers believe he is more injured than he really is. It means they'll underestimate him, and he uses that to his advantage.

kind- to his friends
Jero did not start out as kind, and still doesn't greet newcomers that way. He had to learn how, usually from other gryphons with sweeter natures, and a little from his mother. It took a while. Nowadays, if you are kind to him, and respectful of him, and pander to his ego, he can be quite sweet. Of course, if you point this out to him, he'll be certain to correct his mistake. Jero does not like to be thought of as 'the nice one' by anyone. Except maybe Pico, because she's too shy to tell anyone else.

Laugh in the face of... Death?
The only thing Jero finds funny is the death and suffering of his fellow creatures. He always laughs hysterically when he makes a kill. You'll know it's him, when in the midst of battle, you hear someone enjoying a good chuckle.

fears:

poison,
air,
electricity
(anything that could ground him)


despises:
earth,
water,
psychic
(as a psychic himself, he does not fear other psychics)

loves:
his psychic powers, especially his special one
flying- it's the only non-vicious thing he truly enjoys
bragging
power
his few friends, and possibly, in the future, his mate

Theme Song:

I had some trouble with this. I wanted a song that could imply not only his future rise to power (and his considerable bullying/jerk tendencies), but also his rarely seen, almost artificial in its fierceness, softer side. So I picked something with lyrics that fit his 'soft' side, and music for his natural roughness.
To Be Loved- Papa Roach
(I almost chose "You're gonna go far, kid" by Offspring, but despite the title, the lyrics aren't quite as suited to Jero)

Element:

Psychic

Attacks:

Telepathy: Jero can do some minor telepathy, basically just mind-talking to nearby gryphons or somewhat long-distance communications with a single gryphon. Nothing as special as talking to multiple gryphons in a squad in order to coordinate an attack... at least, not yet. Possibly never.

Telekinesis 1: Jero's strength is in telekinesis, specifically, heavy lifting. He can lift himself, other gryphons, or sabers, but only one animal/object at a time. Also, with heavy things, he doesn't have much control, or any precision.

Telekinesis 2: With lighter objects, like branches and rocks, well, he could pick a branch off the ground and smash you over the head with it. Or send a rock flying at you like a missile. Lots of precision, lots of control. Still only one at a time, though.

Teleportation: Jero can teleport himself roughly 50 meters, max. But only when he's on the ground, and only when there's nothing in the way. If there's something in his path, his high speed will cause him to hit it with such force that he is knocked unconscious, or even killed. Teleporting also exhausts him, leaving him panting for breath, so it's not worth it, as far as he's concerned. Why bother, when you could fly or even run? He can teleport anyone he's touching with him, though.

Special Ability:

Jaws of Life and Death: Using his telekinesis as a lever, Jero can up the "biting force" of his beak to the point where it's basically like the 'jaws of life' used by firemen when they wish to rescue people trapped in their burning cars. It can rip through metal like a meat cleaver through hot butter. Jero uses it as his "coup de gras" -the final blow.

Story:

Come back, Jero this command from his squad leader was sharp and annoyed. Our scouting is finished! speaking telepathically into Jero's mind, the squad leader's voice still got fainter with distance. Of course, he had long since ceased to be visible to Jero's eyes, as the gryphon headed deep into saber territory.

I'm thirsty, Jero thought back with lofty disdain. I'm going to get a drink.

Then you're on your own, you fool. I'm not sending back anyone to rescue you. Then the voice faded, and Jero felt the tenous psychic connection break. He thinks he's so smart and powerful, Jero thought to himself, annoyed that he had been unable to return a comeback to the squad leader's last statement. I'll show him.

Using his eagle eyes, Jero had spotted a large pond of fresh water. He dived casually down, coming to a break at the water reeds and tall grass around the pond. Other than the sound of frogs and insects, all was silence. From the air, Jero had seen no sabers, though he had noticed a patch of woodland coming right up to the pond. In arrogance and carelessness he ignored this, and after a quick glance around, started to slake his thirst.

He did not see or suspect the armored sabertooth crouching silently in the shrubbery behind him. He did not see the water in the pond rise into a wave and head towards him, towing over him. Only when the wave was less than a foot from his beak did Jero notice he was being attacked. He was not afraid of water or the wave. Instead, he ignored it as it crashed over him, whirling around to face the shore, where he was certain an attack from a hydrophobic saber would come.

It did. As the water blinded Jero, the saber with the water-based power leapt on the gryphon. Jero had ducked down, trying to hid beneath his platinum armor, bracing himself for just such an attack. Sure enough, the sabertooth couldn't see through the crashing wave either, and he came down on what had previously been unprotected gryphon hindquarters, but was now a solid plates platinum armor.

Still, the cat was heavy, and Jero was almost crushed beneath the weight. But he knew he couldn't afford to lie sprawled on the ground if he wanted to live. With an effort, he focused his telekinetic powers on the saber's bulk, trying to pull it off him. With a surprised yowl, the saber lifted up and backwards, unwillingly exposing unprotected belly to Jero's claws. The gryphon did not waste time, pummelling the saber's stomach and reaching for its neck with his beak.

But even as he did so, a sharp pain was felt in his hindquarters. Of course, he thought ruefully, sabers always attack in packs. They must have waded through the water to sneak up behind him. He could feel the air around him warping angrily, and the dirt he was standing on start to climb up his legs insidiously.

Air and earth, great, he thought, more afraid of the air than the earth. Flying was his escape route, and he did so now, taking off with a quick, heavy wingbeat and continuing to strain his wings against the thin-ness of the air and the wind the air saber was bringing down on him. But still, he got aloft, and there he did an inventory check. No real damage, though his haunches were bleeding in long lines left by saber claws. He saw the blood, and got an idea. Or rather, remembered a technique.

He switched from hovering confidently to flying poorly, crying in pain. He glanced behind and below him. His keening cries were drawing the three sabers to him as he struggled to keep airborne. Jero focused intently on his minor injury, drawing all the agony he could from it, and releasing it as screeches of pain. The wind appeared again, dragging him down. This time, he didn't resist it. He crumpled softly on the ground, still keening miserably. But while his vocal chords exercised, his eyes were watching the sabertooth tigers carefully.

They approached slowly, smugly, the older air saber and the young earth saber first. Trailing behind them was the young water saber Jero had wounded. Lying helplessly on the ground, Jero rolled his eyes up in agony as the earth saber loomed over him. Jero wheezed, while the look in his eyes seemed to be pleading with the saber to put him out of his misery. "Hold still, gryphon," the saber said sinisterly, "This won't hurt... much." The saber smiled, a fanged smile, and raised his paw over Jero's unarmored neck, prepared to slice it through and finish of the gryphon. That wasn't all. Jero could feel the dirt once again encircling his paws, more firmly this time, like chains or ropes. The saber was taking all precautions.

Jero couldn't really smile, not with a beak. But the look in his eyes changed from the pity-bringing one to one of sparkling, eager delight. From his vantage point, he could see the saber's bare, fluffy neck. Sure, his paws were trapped, but his legs were not. Jero half pushed, half lifted himself onto his trapped feet, just high enough to cut clean through the vital part of the saber's neck with his sharp beak- sharpened by his special power 'jaws of life and death'. As death took the saber, Jero felt the bonds on his feet release. With a screaming laugh of victory, Jero took off, leaving the older air saber to roar in confusion and anger, and the young water saber to whimper in fear.

Jero didn't leave right away, he circled over his victory, shouting praises of himself and insults to the two angry sabers below. One air saber alone couldn't reach this high. But when he saw other sabers approaching over the hills and through the meadows, he flew back to the safety of armor forest. He couldn't take on a whole army by himself, and he knew it.

At the entrance, Jero proudly lifted his beak to display the lifeblood on it, and even though he was late, the doors opened to let him through. He also managed to escape the switch on the back, the usual punishment for coming in late. He was at the top of the world. Jero had missed dinner, but he didn't care.

Later, after bragging thoroughly of his deeds to any gryph that would listen, Jero found himself a quiet place to inspect his wounds, and clean them. They really were superficial, though they had bled a lot. No wonder the sabers were fooled. Jero was thankful a poison-saber hadn't been among them, or he might have not been acting as if he were mortally wounded. He might actually have been mortally wounded. He was also thankful that there was only one air saber, and his wings had not been injured. He couldn't bear the thought of not flying, of losing that joy.

Then he cleaned his beak in one of the artificial streams, and sharpened it on a stone. As he bobbed his head back and forth in a rhythmic motion, his beak making a slight sawing sound, another gryphon flew into view. Jero stopped, and looked up. It was only Pico, an owl-headed gryph. Pico was a scaredy-cat among gryphons, though she fought well enough if forced.

"I heard about your first kill, Jero," she said softly, her head lowered shyly. "On your first mission, too. Good job." She came up, head lowered submissively, and nuzzled his flank. Jero relaxed, and draped one of his wings around her in a trusting gesture: any injury she chose to inflict on his wing would be a lot easier to do if it was right next to her beak. It was also a type of hug, and Pico settled down under it. "Can I sleep here again, with you?"

Jero was one of those gryphons who was too tough to sleep next to his parents. Pico wasn't, but her parents had been killed by sabers. "Sure," he said kindly.

Another gryph appeared, and the crow-headed Kam landed beside the two of them. Kam was weak, as gryphs go, but also possessed a kind of stubborness that had gotten him this far. He was another of Jero's friends, and bunkmates. He came bringing not praises, but gifts. A hunk of meat he had saved for Jero. "Thought you could use this, you old war hero," he half-teased, half-praised his friend.

"Mmmmph, thanks," Jero said, stuffing his face. He draped his other wing around Kam, and the three of them snuggled together.

"Not bad, if you like admitting to victory of an earth-based weakling," a sarcastic voice announced, and Riccan, an older falcon gryph, walked up the trio. "Don't get too cocky, Jero," she warned in a kinder voice. "This isn't the end. I hear you left two alive, they'll want your blood."

"Let 'em try," Kam said sleepily. "We'll get them, won't we, Jero?"

"Yeah," Pico said, yawning. "Don't forget to let us come next time, okay?"

"Sabers hunt in packs," Riccan said as she lay down by Pico. "So should we. Otherwise we are both fools and weaklings."

The excitement of the day was closing Jero's eyes, and his two friends were snoring beside him, comfortingly. I'll die before I let anything happen to you he told all of them telepathically, though two of them were too far asleep to hear.

"Sometimes, you don't have a choice about who lives and who dies," Riccan said sadly, remembering her own losses. She looked over at Jero, he was now as deeply asleep as his friends. She put her own head down between her claws and closed her eyes. "You won't always win, Jero... especially not that battle."