| Cloak | Jensen bought this cloak on his travels to the cat kingdom of Gweillan with what little money he had salvaged from the ashes of his old home. It's a rich, heavy red fabric that's very soft to the touch and can cover him entirely if he wishes it. It even has a hood, though there are no holes cut for his ears when he pulls it up. He bought it mostly to cover the terrible burn scars on his left shoulder and down his back. Though it doesn't hide them entirely, when he wears the cloak it makes them look far smaller than they really are. He used to wear the hood a lot to cover the scars up his face and draw it more tightly around him, but now he's much more comfortable with his scar and rarely covers his head with it.
| Maple Leaf Brooch | This gold and green brooch is in the shape of a maple leaf made of green stone and inlaid with pyrite, a look-alike to gold. He uses the brooch to fasten his cloak shut on his chest, and even when he isn't wearing the cloak he'll clip it somewhere on his fur. When asked about it, Jensen only says that it was a gift from someone he cared about deeply, and that is apparent by the way he treasures it and always keeps it in sight.
| Carving Knife | This knife is about three inches long, cheap but trusty enough for daily use. Its sheath and belt are black, and Jensen straps it to his right leg and normally keeps it there all the time. He occasionally uses it as a weapon when he's in a tight spot or his sword isn't at hand, but he doesn't like to draw it in violence unless absolutely necessary. Instead, he uses it to carve little images in wood or stone when inspiration strikes him (or even when he's simply bored). His father, a woodcarver, gave it to him when he was very young and he's kept it ever since. He cares for it so it's always in top condition, sharp enough to cut shapes in whatever stubborn stone or heartwood that he picks up during the day. It gets so much use that the blade has become very nicked, and it's getting harder and harder to carve with accuracy--Jensen wishes to save up enough money to buy a more trusty one to use.
| Simple Sword | This is Jensen's main weapon, its blade made of some unknown black material. He got it for a relatively cheap price since the metal of the blade isn't very good quality, or at least too unknown that few wish to put their lives at the mercy of untested material. The sheath is also black, as well as the belt which he straps to his middle. Because he is left-handed, he keeps it to his right side so he can draw it by crossing it over his body--a technique that he's learned protects his body from a surprise attack if he has to draw it in a hurry. The weapon serves him well enough for the time being, though the weapon isn't quite balanced in his hand and doesn't match his preferred fighting style. He wishes someday to buy a katana, the weapon he found most suited him while working under his master. A katana is the perfect choice for his fighting style, as Jensen is light and fast, with incredible stamina and endurance. His attacks aren't very strong, with no crushing blows and added weight to the steel, so he depends on being of higher maneuverability and speed to match his opponents. His style matches the idea that rather than crippling the enemy with a single blow, one can achieve victory by making him bleed to death from a thousand cuts.
| Lyre | This Lyre is a stringed instrument with five strings attached to a curving piece of white wood which is painted with intricate gold-colored designs. Jensen found a large limb of driftwood while walking along the coast and spent a few months carving it into this instrument. He doesn't usually keep it on his person, preferring to leave it at home where he can actually make use of it, as he doesn't usually play it in public.
Guild: None. Jensen is wary of the guilds and what they represent--activity outside the law, often activity that get innocent people hurt. He has no intentions of joining any guild, preferring to live out his life helping others on his own time, his only duty and loyalty to the Legionaries.
Home:East Quarter--E15. Jensen's home is not too far from the palace or anywhere where he might be needed as a soldier, but it's isolated enough so he can have some time for peace and quiet. He likes his setting next to the woods where he can see the trees from his windows. He loves the natural light that can fill his house, which is mostly empty save for a bed, a table, and other necessities. The rooms, however, are filled with carvings and decorations of many different types of wood and stone, all of which he's made himself. He's even carved beautiful illustrations into the walls, especially around the windows. He has a windowseat that overlooks the woods which he's laid a few pillows on--it's his resting place, his sanctuary, where he can let the sunlight filter through the open window and carve, or perhaps play his lyre. It's his favorite seat in the house. The home is quite miserable in the winter, however. Jensen boards up the fireplace and refuses to use it, and he can never get quite warm when the sun's rays are too weak to stay the cold.
| Carving | Jensen loves to whittle--and he's gotten very good at it too! He can create incredibly lifelike images in stone or wood with his carving knife, which is almost always close at hand. It's something he does both seriously and absentmindedly. Sometimes he has a project that he wants to finish, and he'll engross himself for hours in his spare time putting finer touches to something that he wants to perfect. More often, however, he whittles without even thinking about it. Sitting alone or with friends, his paws will always wander towards a small piece of wood or stone which he'll keep in his lap, shaping as he talks and usually casting away afterwards. He's never sold his carvings, not wanting to make a profit out of something that he loves so much, but he'll sometimes make something for a single cat in particular, giving it to them as a token when he's finished.
| Poetry | Though it seems odd that a soldier of the first class would spend his free time in the arts, Jensen likes to balance out his rougher military career with softer, more spiritual pastimes. When he was young, before he lost his family, he wanted to be a bard--to travel the world and return with great tales to sing of to all who would listen. That dream fizzled after he was burned and lost the life he had before, but he still spends a lot of his time composing epics, songs, and other forms of poetry. He plays these on his lyre when he is alone, not very eager to play in front of others. This isn't because he's embarrassed, but instead because he enjoys that time alone, that reflection he can use to learn more about himself, and more about the world. He has a lovely singing voice and he plays his lyre effortlessly.
Chivalrous: Both as a soldier and as an individual, Jensen fits the definition of a "white knight" almost to a tee. He will never turn down anyone who is in need, regardless of their social status or his own personal opinion of them, and is the type who would step between an assassin and his target without knowing either. He is steadfast to his morals, rarely wavering from them even when he might be tempted to stray from what he knows is right. Bribes anger him, as he believes that the briber is questioning his own honor as a soldier, and he will never take money that he hasn't earned himself. He is polite and respectful to everyone he meets, and will even remain decent in public to those who've gotten on his bad side. This chivalry has stemmed from the traumatic experiences in his childhood, where highwaymen burned his home to ash and left him scarred and alone when he was very young. Though he has given up revenge on the particular bandits that caused him so much grief, he feels that it is his duty to never turn a blind eye to crime and to help anyone that he can to spare them the pain that he knows all too well.
Sincere: Jensen is absolutely sincere in everything that he does. He is openly honest to all, especially those he cares about, and will never lie unless he has a very, very good reason. That being said, Jensen is a very bad liar, and it's easy to see right through him, even when he only does it in an attempt to spare feelings. He's quite the sweetheart and will always work to make his friends smile; to pick them up when they feel down. He's hurt very easily by any dishonesty or betrayal, and angry words from someone he cares about will always make him flinch.
Quick: This trait goes beyond being merely fast or agile, though Jensen is both. He picks up on subtle hints quickly and has a sharp mind which makes it easy for him to accept any sort of challenge. He doesn't bludgeon his way through obstacles, but rather thinks them through with accuracy and intuition. He loves logic puzzles and games, like chess or riddles, but he uses this trait much more seriously in day-to-day life as a Legionnaire.
Optimistic: It may seem ironic from a character who's been through as much pain as Jensen has, but he has an uncanny ability to see the good in everything. Whether it be an impossible problem that he is sure will work out or a gutter thief who he knows is only trying to get by in life and feed his family, he is certain that everything in the world holds some good, and that those good things far outweigh the bad. He's often the uplifter of spirits during hard times, and this good-natured disposition is highly contagious. It's terrible to watch when he grows inverted or melancholy, which occasionally happens, because the mood is so out of character for him. When this happens, he tries to keep his problems to himself rather than allowing them to burden others, though he's not afraid to ask another for help himself if he believes they truly can help him.
Close-minded: Due to an unfortunate conflict between his chivalry, optimism, and youth, Jensen can often come across as being very narrow-minded. Though it is usually a good thing that he never strays from his morals, that can be detrimental at times. He makes a very distinct line between good and bad, willing to bring due justice to each criminal exactly as they individually deserve. Though he believes that everyone has the potential to be good, he sometimes loses sight of that when he realizes something about another that goes against his own moral compass. He is wary of magic and wants nothing to do with the magical arts, and the same goes for the three major guilds since their activity is so hidden and frowned upon by the kingdom justice. As mentioned before, he can feel very hurt and betrayed when he finds out that someone hasn't been quite honest with him, or that they're using him for their own benefit.
History: For all of his optimism and white knight nature, Jensen's had a less than happy life. He was born outside of the cat kingdom, far away in a forest where humans rarely travel. They were isolated enough that they could live as kingdom cats did, especially since both of his parents had grown up in Gweillan. His mother had been a magician, but she had no magic abilities of her own--she relied on tricks and illusions which she had perfected as an art to entertain the market crowd in her youth. His father was an extraordinary carver, and was able to make both practical and beautiful things out of wood and stone--he had built the house for Jensen's mother, after they had left the kingdom. A few others had set up lives around their area, so Jensen grew up with a few close families who had children the same age as him. He was never bored, though he often stubbornly told his parents that he was going to grow up to be a bard and see the world. Even at this age he had great musical talent--his mother owned a lyre which she had bought while in the kingdom and taught him how to play it. He loved to read, especially poetry, and to watch his father carve.
He was a young teenager when he first fell in love with Willa, a beautiful she-cat who he had grown up with. She had been the daughter of two dancers, and she herself was graceful and beautiful when she preformed for the families that lived in their little isolated area. For a time, it seemed that Jensen was even willing to set aside his notions of traveling the world, instead his daydreams turning to settling down and living a life with the girl that he loved so deeply. She had often worn a beautiful green and gold brooch that had been in her family for ever, and she gave it to him. Though he refused, at first, to take such a treasure from her, she begged him to accept it as she had nothing else to give to him. It was only a few days later that Jensen woke up to a burning home.
Jensen never knew why the highwaymen had chosen to burn their little cluster of houses, but he had heard them laughing as he tried to escape, holding burning torches in the night which they lit to anything they could find. Jensen was burned very badly while trying to escape, managing only to grab one of his father's carving knives before collapsing at the edge of the woods. He'd lain in fear, transfixed by his pain and his intense horror at the fires that were eating everything he'd ever known. The highwaymen didn't notice him, or perhaps thought him dead. It was only the next morning, when it had all burned to ash and the feline attackers were gone, that Jensen managed to stand and stumble through the ash of his homes where his family, and Willa, had perished. He fled from the scene close to death himself from his terrible burns, and was taken in by an old healer who nursed him back to health, though the ordeal left a terrible scar that's with him to this day. As bitter and hollow as Jensen was, he repaid her kindness by robbing her and setting out as soon as he was strong enough to stand--it is the act, above all else, that he is most ashamed of now. He bought his cloak to hide the worst of his scar and fastened it with the leaf brooch, fashioning a sheath for his carving knife which was his only weapon.
With the money he had taken from the healer, he hired a sword master on the outskirts of the cat kingdom to teach him how to fight. He always drew his cloak around himself, keeping the hood up, and was instantly suspicious of anyone he met. Under intense training, Jensen became very adept with a sword and eventually bought his own, which serves him well enough for the time being. His master seemed to breathe life back into the shell of anger and emptiness which he had become. By the time Jensen left his master, he'd given up impossible thoughts of revenge on the highwaymen who had attacked them and was ready to move forward in his life. He moved into a house in the cat kingdom after joining with the Legionnaires and has lived there since.
Left-handed Skilled at swordsmanship because he's been trained by a master, even though he's still relatively young He's still devastated over Willa's death but hides it well. He doesn't know it but he very much wants to fall in love again to mend his broken heart Fears fire He's grown used to his scar and hides the worst of it only to spare anyone who would otherwise have to see it in full.
D'ialia paused for just a moment as the Yellow-Shadow sat down, just long enough to realize that he was sitting down for her benefit and not his own. This white tom understood her, in a sort of way that none of the others had ever even cared to try. She had spoken few words through the hours since he had first vanished into shadow and invited her forward, but in spite of that (no, because of that!) she liked him more than she had any cat she’d met since… well any cat that she’d ever met. She was too strange for the others. She’d grown up without speaking words out loud—who had she had to speak to other than the shadows themselves, who had their own language of dance and movement, of subtle whispers in the dark? The way that the cats spoke, tried to understand her through pointless questions and conversations about prey and the weather and everything else under the sun… they were just words. They could be truth or lie, and didn’t help any cat gain perspective of another. It was why they’d kept away from her, why she’d stayed so alone at the edge of camp and trying to enjoy the comfort that she’d once found within the dark tendrils of anonymously. But knowing that there was something else, knowing that cats somehow formed relationships and bonds with one another made it impossible to enjoy her loneliness. She was lonely, she had realized. She was no longer just another shadow, and she would never again be able to truly look to them to guard her paws. It had been a parent, had taken her under its wing and guided her when she was lost. But now it was a creature that served her, which she served as well and which she was no eternally engaged in its dance even when her paws were not moving. Something had changed within her as she’d danced with them tonight, and now there was no chance for her to leave the tribe and return to the shadows. She had nothing but the promise of her power, the thrill of learning new ways to call the darkness to her side and coax it to bow to her will. Did she truly have nothing else? Her life and her power were her only two possessions, that and this promise from the Yellow-Shadow, the promise that he would show her what he knew. It was a tentative promise, she knew, one that she would have to walk like a spider balancing on a string of its web, but she was determined not to slip. She allowed her weary body to sink into a sitting position, acknowledging that he only sat to invite her to do the same and pushing back the pride that told her to stay standing. Pride had its place, but when it was stupid she could learn to ignore it, and right now it would be very stupid to stay on her paws while the Shadow deputy sat. In more ways than one. But… what he said. First lesson. That was good—labeling this as the first was another unclear promise of more. Because oh did she have more that she wanted to learn from him—not just about using her powers, but of fighting and hunting. Of the bonds and breaks between the tribes, of the workings of the hierarchy. But she didn’t ask the questions now—that would have been too obvious, and she’d already humbled herself to him once by asking for help in the first place. A small spark lit in her eyes, though, at the word “first”. She had never realized what an optimistic word it was. She light died in a moment as she realized she was giving herself away, and she nodded to him awkwardly, trying to mimic whatever signals the other cats had given him to express their respect. She drew her shoulders back again and swept her fluffy tail over her paws—that fluff was odd all over her. It was odd like all the rest of her. Was she short-haired or long-haired, it was impossible to tell. “It didn’t feel like a lesson,” she said in that slightly-strange voice of hers. And it was true, it had not felt like a lesson. The others had tried to teach her once or twice, the others with laughing shadow grins for tattoos and thistledown between their ears when it came to knowing how the world worked. Those lessons had been so strict, so irritating and formal that she’d stalked away from her would-be instructor mid-sentence. ‘Stay out of the territories until you know the other tribes’, ‘fetch bedding as a lesson in humility’, ‘You need to be taught some respect’… it was too rigid. Too much blabbing orders and rigid, structured ideas and less allowing her to figure out how it worked. Too much telling her something and not enough telling her why—why she needed to know it, why it was the way it was, whether it had always been that way before. No one else seemed to care, and she again had felt at odds with the way this strange world worked where cats treated information like it was all flawless and could not be improved upon. So no, this did not seem like a lesson to her. “Not a lesson…” she murmured, but she couldn’t find a word for what she believed it to be, so she remained silent, wondering if a word existed for what she had just experienced.
Hell yeah I do XDD. I had to stop because I'd gone through this weird phase where I was all into horror stuff and I ended up getting super paranoid and not being able to sleep at night. So I cut off from everything and I've just started again xDD. I need to go back and finish watching that.
Anyway yeah, Dean is the bomb. I love him to death. I don't get why so many people like Cas though o-o he's kind of a jerk.
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More