threads of GOSSAMER

[Fallen]

G O S S A M E R
praying on your sorrow
we rise to meet the shadows

Name: Gossamer - - - origins : 1 : a film of cobwebs floating in air in calm clear weather 2 : something light, delicate, or insubstantial.
Gender: Femininity - - - there is no question about it. her luminous black pelt and bright gold-and-blue eyes betray all accents of the feminine side.
Age: 3 and a half years of age - - - her fur still shines with youth, and her eyes still bright and young. despite her rather demented personality that makes her seem much older, she was actually born not a while ago.
Orientation: Straight - - - she is straight from the tips of her ears to the end of her tail. only males interest her in love, other females she has no interest for.
Phase: Primer Trimestre.
Rank: El Xaman - - - the shaman. this is the spiritual leader of the phase. Each phase has a different take on religion, so this rank commands varying degrees of respect throughout the different phases. in the phases with less of an emphasis on religion the shaman is treated as a kind of advisor. the shaman is also expected to have an in depth knowledge of the art of healing.

Appearance: Gossamer is true to her name -- light, delicate, almost spectral in appearance. Every detail of her illustration is pleasing to the eye, every feature oddly beatific. Her youth only adds to the haunting appeal this feline has to behold. And yet there's something glaring about her that no one can put a claw on. Gossamer's expression betrays just a touch of fear wherever she steps. Her haunting visage truly is "haunting" -- or maybe "haunted" may be a more proper description. The bright orbs set in her face are maybe just a bit too bright, if you'll notice, and those odd colors which pierce their depths don't seem too welcoming, either. Is she one to be feared? That's up to you to decide.

This young she-cat is graced with a lithe build. Almost no other cat has quite the same composition as she -- the way she carries herself is alluring, her movements composed by perfect symmetry with every pawstep. Her stature is small, perhaps a bit on the petite side, though healthy muscles ripple somewhere beneath her pelt, not as defining as those of the El Dimonis, however. In some ways, she moves like a fox, in summary. Everything about her just doesn't seem as feline as other cats. Large yet aerial feet at the end of tapered limbs. A faint glowing from her fur all around. Truly "gossamery" -- it doesn't seem she could do much harm. But never underestimate wiry strength.

Gossamer's gorgeous coat is what truly makes her stand out nose to tail-tip, truly. Slightly long, extremely soft fur of the purest black winds its way around her slender figure, touching every part of her body with shadows, not an inch escaping lurid hue. Not a single grey, silver, or white hair pierces the raven-black pelt. It has a luminous touch to it, as if lit by moonlight peaking out of the dark, midnight sky that is her coat. The shine ripples from the parts of her pelt as her body makes so much as just a slight movement. In the shade of the night, she is an impossible opponent to be able to see. The only thing that would give her away in the slightest is her eyes.

Yes, her eyes are like shades of the sky at different periods of times. One eye is blessed with a gorgeous tint of golden. Imagine the brightest, goldest star lighting up the murky night, and you find that it holds similar properties to one eyes of Gossamer's. All shades of gold, light and dark, make up this eye, but particularly the dark gold and yet one holding much luster. The other eye is quite the opposite. Imagine staring into a perfect, crystal-clear sea. Sapphire-blue, only brighter. Thin streaks of sea-green, turquoise and faint yet dark purple streak the luminous blue of the eye. In some relation, it bears similarity to that of a peacock's feather, only in bright, glittering shades more perfect than ever imagined.

Finally, there are the more minor features of her. Gossamer's tail is particularly downy and thick-furred. Against the dark curved shape of her face, her thin whiskers are little more very slight, almost invisible silvery streaks. Her ears are a tad larger than the average cat, accenting a certain innocence of her face, and yet a silent alertness that prickles the pelt. Even the thin strands and little bushes of fur within her ear are an relentless black, or perhaps tinged with a rosy ginger like the colors used to describe dusk, but dark nonetheless. The bones of her body seem to be ever so finely sculpted, like crystal goblets. Her face especially has a beautiful shape, though it adds to her frame as well.

Personality: Mentally, "spectral" is exactly the word to describe this mysterious she-cat. Something is wrong with her, she was born with a problem. Not exactly one would call a disability, although to some, it is. Within her mind she hears voices. And not just any voices -- she believes them to not simply be figments of her imagination, or an extra sense, but rather that these voices want something with her. This is something she has always believed, and as she has reached the wax of adolescence she became accustomed to them. Gossamer relates this idea to the fact that she broke the chain of her tribe having pure-black coats and two gold eyes, and how she broke the traditions of all gold eyes and black fur.

This is not to say she believes something is wrong with her. In fact, she believes something to be wrong with her old tribe. Rather, the ancestors of her tribe were angry with her when her eyes did not change from kit-blue to gold, and so they have forever decided to run her mind with terrible thoughts and sneering words. In her kithood, it may have scared her to death, but she barely notices it at all anymore. In fact, she has never known life without it, and thus the voices are a usual visit to her. She knows they're there, all the time, watching her, and that is the way she has always felt, and she knows she can't do anything about them. So why be afraid of just a few things that taunt your mind? They're nothing but spirits.

In personality, she is not one that has a set in stone way of thinking. Some dismiss her as shy and quiet, others as someone secretly plotting something terrible and demonic. Most of this isn't really true. Although she is quiet, inside, there is a spunky personality that let's those who she trusts see it. She isn't exactly hard for one to gain the trust of, just not exactly easy. In all, really, she's a go-with-the-flow kind of girl. She doesn't much care what others say about her unless it strikes a chord deep into her past -- then, she gets really angry. However, there's not much that can make this female feel much emotions of anger. She thinks it a pointless emotion, as, after all, anger leads to recklessness, and recklessness often leads t severe mistakes.

Gossamer's knowledge of herbs is superior. She has practically trained the whole of her life searching for the best remedies to heal people. The fae is young, charming, and has a touch of sweetness to her scent, voice, and overall personality, however quiet she may be. However, she has a tendency to blame herself for every single thing that goes wrong in the phase physically, as the voices in her head start being louder and showing images of all her phase dying because she wasn't good enough to save them. Those are perhaps the only things she truly fears, and will always fear. It is a flaw she cannot let go of -- that, however much she tries, she will never be perfect, and someday someone, maybe even multiple someones, will die because of her.

History: Gossamer was born to a tribe of all black-furred golden-eyed cats. The tribe believed themselves to be prophets, or prophetesses, and hence the reason why their gorgeous colors have been passed through all bloodlines to all generations. They were a rather religious group, and they had their rules that should any kit be born without gold eyes or black fur, they would be given as a sacrifice to the volcano, where supposedly their "magical ancestors" lived. However, this had never happened before, and thus the procedure had never actually been done, although the rule was still alive and acknowledged.

Her mother was, of course, a beautiful black she-cat with the brightest gold eyes, her name of Raven. Her father was a handsome tom with the same exact colors as everyone else, no less, and his name was Shadow. The two practically fell in love at first sight. In the beautiful season of spring, they gave birth to a litter of four kits. All beautiful black kittens, and they knew that their ancestors would all give them golden eyes. However, when a few days passed. It was time for the kits to open their eyes. And they did. Gold eyes. Gold eyes. One gold eyes, one blue eye. Gold eyes... wait! One gold eye, one blue eye?

Gossamer's parents fretted terribly. They did not tell the tribe of Gossamer, and made all the kits stay in the nursery den so that they wouldn't suspect something was off about the kit. Raven tried to believe that Gossamer's other eye would just take a while longer to change to the beautiful golden hue of her other eye, but it never did. A moon passed, and the leader wanted to see the kits. As soon as she saw Gossamer's mismatched eyes, the tribe went into an uproar. Everyone was excited! They'd finally get to see an execution! The camp was a blur of black and gold, everyone preparing to sacrifice the poor, mismatched-eyed kit.

But Raven would not go through with this. She begged and begged the leader not to kill Gossamer. And at first, he was reluctant, but eventually he decided that she did have one gold eye. She wasn't a complete disrespect. She had black fur, too. And so it was decided, she wouldn't be killed. Her family was overjoyed, and her kithood went over fairly well -- or at least, that's what others thought. Voices circled her mind, taunting her, telling her she was worthless scum, not a prophet or a prophetess bred specially like the others of this tribe. They scared her, and she wailed often for the "voices" to go away aloud, but they never did.

As she grew up, Gossamer's world turned upside down. She was no longer a cute kitten that happened to be born with odd eyes. She was a disgrace to the entire bloodline. Generations of all black cats with gold eyes, and she was a mistake. In the eyes of the tribe, she was worthless scum, just as the voices said. For nights on end, Gossamer had terrible nightmares of being thrown into the volcano, and of voices and cats swirling around her, taunting her. She didn't know it was normal for cats to be different. The way she grew up, she had been taught everyone but her was special. Being different marked the stupidity of a cat.

One night, she had a dream. She dreamed of another world, one where it didn't matter her appearance. One where she wasn't looked at as stupid. Gossamer knew she would have to get to this world. And she did. The next night, she snuck away from the camp, running as fast as her legs could carry her. She regrets not saying goodbye to her parents, but all the same, she realized that even they loved their other kits more than they ever did her, and so what good would it do other than shame her in front of her parents? Gossamer decided to cut herself a bit and leave a short trail and a few puddles of blood, with the scent of a fox on it, to make it look like she was killed.

During her travels, she became fascinated with herbs and healing. It was the only way to take her mind off of the voices. Soon, although the voices did not go away, she felt happy. She didn't mind the voices now -- in fact, she was kind of used to them. And if she ever meant another cat, she would help them in whatever way that was possible. Gossamer had many small adventures in this period of her life, and for once, she experienced true happiness. Everyone thought she was pretty, not a mistake. No one did, in fact. Gossamer liked this feeling -- yet still, she had grown up in a group of cats, and that was where she wanted to settle down.

Eventually, Gossamer found her way to the phases. She decided the Primer Trimestre was to her liking. Although she was first put as an El Cacador, eventually everyone noticed she wasn't that great at hunting. When they tried moving her to an El Dimonis, they discovered she wasn't much of a fighter, either. Everyone thought she was scum, just the same as with the tribe. Then, she remembered her knowledge of herbs. And the El Xaman was getting old.. Eventually, they decided she would be the new Xaman. Ever since Gossamer has done her best to heal her beloved phase, and help preserve the ways of the Primer Trimestre.

Notes:
- - - this is how she appears. however, one eye is supposed to be a bright blue. look at the blue eye in this pic. that is how one of her eyes is supposed to be. also, the brightness of her gold eye is exactly the same as the eyes of this cat.