Post by Spinal Curvature on Feb 19, 2009 21:42:52 GMT -5
Name: Andean
Age: 3
Species: Spectacled Bear
Description: Typical for his species, Andean is darkly colored as far as fur goes, with cream-colored markings in the shape of goggles on his face.
Personality: A little lazy from lack of predators, though he'll be the first to deny it, Andean's become used to the cushy lifestyle that comes with living so close to the fairies who are highly protective of their home. Like any normal bear, he loves to eat, but can become unbearably (haha pun unintended) philosophical during mealtimes.
He's terrified of meat-eaters such as Goanna, and of anything larger than him. One particularily hilarious moment was when a tree spooked him.
How is related to Ferngully: Andean was a RP character for Shauni's now defunct forum.
RP Example:
Picture: Well, I don't feel like drawing at the moment, so here's a photo of the species he is.
Age: 3
Species: Spectacled Bear
Description: Typical for his species, Andean is darkly colored as far as fur goes, with cream-colored markings in the shape of goggles on his face.
Personality: A little lazy from lack of predators, though he'll be the first to deny it, Andean's become used to the cushy lifestyle that comes with living so close to the fairies who are highly protective of their home. Like any normal bear, he loves to eat, but can become unbearably (haha pun unintended) philosophical during mealtimes.
He's terrified of meat-eaters such as Goanna, and of anything larger than him. One particularily hilarious moment was when a tree spooked him.
How is related to Ferngully: Andean was a RP character for Shauni's now defunct forum.
RP Example:
Maybe it was the pollution.
Sitting in some small, inconspicuous cafe in the middle of the city, Grace Tanner stared out the window at the perpetually red sky. Even in mid-winter, when everything was covered in snow and provided the perfect cover for Mr Freeze's nefarious plots, Gotham's sky remained the same rich, bloody color.
Frowning, rubbing at the newly tattooed 'doll lashes' she'd woken up with, Grace turned to glance at the waitress who brought her the ordered coffee before looking out the window again, hand burning against the hot mug.
She was far too tired to acknowledge the pain. For the next few moments, Grace simply continued to stare out the window, eyes glazed over from exhaustion and deep thought. Until the burning sensation against the back of her hand became too much.
"...ow!"
Jerking her arm away from the mug, knocking it over in the process and spilling a great deal of it on her as well as the floor. Staring forlornly down at her now soaked sweater, Grace cast an apologetic look to the waitress who came with a mop and a glare, shifting out of her seat to flee to the relative privacy of the washroom.
She emerged with her sweater hanging limply from one hand, the other rubbing against one eye. Shivering. It was quite cold despite the heaters in the cafe. Once back to her table, Grace swung on her coat, hesitating as she contemplated as to whether she should sit down again or simply go home.
Sitting in some small, inconspicuous cafe in the middle of the city, Grace Tanner stared out the window at the perpetually red sky. Even in mid-winter, when everything was covered in snow and provided the perfect cover for Mr Freeze's nefarious plots, Gotham's sky remained the same rich, bloody color.
Frowning, rubbing at the newly tattooed 'doll lashes' she'd woken up with, Grace turned to glance at the waitress who brought her the ordered coffee before looking out the window again, hand burning against the hot mug.
She was far too tired to acknowledge the pain. For the next few moments, Grace simply continued to stare out the window, eyes glazed over from exhaustion and deep thought. Until the burning sensation against the back of her hand became too much.
"...ow!"
Jerking her arm away from the mug, knocking it over in the process and spilling a great deal of it on her as well as the floor. Staring forlornly down at her now soaked sweater, Grace cast an apologetic look to the waitress who came with a mop and a glare, shifting out of her seat to flee to the relative privacy of the washroom.
She emerged with her sweater hanging limply from one hand, the other rubbing against one eye. Shivering. It was quite cold despite the heaters in the cafe. Once back to her table, Grace swung on her coat, hesitating as she contemplated as to whether she should sit down again or simply go home.
Picture: Well, I don't feel like drawing at the moment, so here's a photo of the species he is.
