Name: Ng'ombe
Meaning: "Cow" or wealth -Swahili
Species: Cheetah
Gender: Female
Mate: None
Offspring: --
Pard: None
Rank: Rogue
Seer: No
Roleplay color: #198508
Obtained: Christmas Dice Roll (gifted by Kaisanti)
Colourist:Meepfur
razz ersonality:. .Ng'ombe is completely a lady. She is very elegant in her mannerisms and has a fragile quality about her, as if she were made of spun glass and could shatter if handled recklessly. The Cheetahess is shy and retreating, but she has a very good head on her shoulders, and is very perceptive, not only to her external world, but to the internal world of herself and others. She is the gentle type, and has no real ability to protect herself except for being faster then most things that chase her. Demure in nature, with an inborn grace, she is very naive and has never found a lover of any sort.
.:History:
Ng'ombe's cub hood was lovely, with a mother and father who truly loved each other and their only cub. She was taught how to be a gracious and kind by her mother, and her father taught her to hunt and to love the feel of the wind through her fur and grass under her paws when she ran. Ng'ombe's best memories are of laying in the curve of her mother's belly and watching the stars while her father told her all the stories of them.
She never knew that there was constant hardship for her parents, or that they struggled to survive out in the Rogue Lands, or the secret that they kept from her all their lives, that they had left their individual Prides in order to be with each other, and had they been found, she would have been killed.
When she had just become an adult, her mother became very ill after having eaten some meat the family had found already striped and left out in the open. She was the only one who ate, as Ng'ombe was younger and could go without and her father was stronger then her delicate mother.
It only took a few hours, less then a day, for her mother to die, but they were horrid, terrifying hours for Ng'ombe and her father as there was nothing they could do but stay close and comfort her the best they could. They laid her mother to rest in the wide open savanna, where the sun and rain could always reach her. That night, her father told her about where she came from, and that her mother had been everything to him.
A few days later, the Cheetahess discovered her father laying on the grave, his heart and breath still. Ng'ombe buried him with his beloved. Now she wanders the Rogue Lands, slightly adrift and lost, but she still enjoys the wind on her fur, and the rain on the savanna.
RP NOTE: Ng'ombe will need someone who can take care of her. I am open to a 'capture' concept and to finding the 'Prides' her parents came from.
Note: Ng'ombe got her name because the png file she was saved as was labeled 'cow4'. XD.
Name:Tabia
Meaning: Swahili- name meaning "make incantations."
Species: Cheetah
Gender: Female
Mate: None (As if)
Offspring: --
Pard: Mafia Pride
Rank: Entertainer
Seer: No
Roleplay color: #c38605
Obtained: Kuroi'nera The Combination Event
Colourist: Meepfur
razz ersonality:. Tabia is a survivor and she is very comfortable within the confines of her fur. She enjoys her role as entertainer for the Pride, and uses all of her sultry, sensual, passions to move the objectives of the Pride forward that are entrusted to her. Tabia is wickedly shrewd, and knows exactly how to use her training and her extreme femininity to get what is needed from her marks. Make no mistake however, Tabia is loyal without question to the Pride and will easily kiss and then kill any feline that they ask her to without hesitation. She is a chameleon and adapts into whatever role she needs to, from demure and innocent, to sassy and spirited, to an elegant seductress, but underneath it all is a very clear, very observant and very shrewd, very complex mind.
.:History:
Prompt Number: 2
Prompt Response: (Nartive Form)
I hear the music begin, and my breathing calms as the heavy, primal beat of the dream sets a counter to my heart. I pose, back arched, my khoal lined eyes closed, front shoulder down, a 'hunting' stance. I wait, one breath, two breaths, letting all who watch tonight's drum circle drink their fill of my lithe, dancer's body. It's all part of the role, and I know my role well.
The drum is joined by another, and I roll my shoulders forward, the gem and belled cuffs on my front paws adding a counter melody to the rolling beat as I 'stalk' my prey. I can see him, young and confident, not a cub any longer, but not yet a blooded male, sitting near the front. I lift my golden eyes, the look in them demure, unsure as I met his pale ones, a look only for him. I blush, dropping my gaze, paws shifting as I twirl away, the veil over my muzzle catching the light of the fire on the head piece that keeps it on. I make sure the very tip of my tail brushes under his chest. He is the only onlooker I touch, a single, silent admittance to him that I am his, and only his.
I had worried when I first came to gather his mother, to escort her back to our Family that I would have had to end his life in order to fore fill the task entrusted to me. The extra baggage of the cub was not expected. She had failed to mention that she had given birth, its always those small details that ruin the best negotiated deals, but such small details are easily dealt with. For her sake, I would have made it quick, he would have felt nothing.
The rhythm changes in the drums, and drop low to my belly, slinking across the cleared ground, tail curled high, my eyes smoldering with the passion of my 'hunt'. He'd saved himself however, with the typical folly of youth, he'd fallen in love with me. If the situation had not been so dire, it would have been laughable. As it was, he'd inadvertently saved his own skin.
Flipping backward I land on my hind paws, tail lashing back and forth as I shake one hip and then the other before gracefully returning to all fours, once more rolling the blades of my shoulders, my movements set to the rapidly rolling beat of the music as it begins to reach its climax. When he'd confessed his love to me, I had fallen into his waiting paws, sobbing with joy and relief, telling him how I was running, how I was hunted, how frightened and scared I was, and how resolved I was to continue my quest to save my family from those wicked felines who had them, though I knew not if they were alive or dead. Poor young fool had bought it.
I stretched myself out along ground, head, body, tail, adulating like a snake as I slow my frantic pace perfectly with the halting music of the drums, my gold eyes seeking his in the crowd. He reassures me with that gentle, loving smile of his, and quietly slips away, away to the river, where I will met him as the rest of the Pride feasts on today's successful kill. Together, we will slip away into the dark, and he will join me on my quest, become my protector, my lover, my...mate. The though makes me want to laugh, but I suppress it as I slip back into my starting position, the drums slow beat falling back to the sole drum that had begun the dance.
As its rhythm fades, I re-clothe myself in the role I am playing, glancing up one more time, this time the look calculated and unfriendly, meeting those of his mother's, the order clear....she will follow behind and not interfere as I lead him back to our Pride, for if she does, she will bring back to our Family his dead and broken body.
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