Pet Name: Peeves Moran
Description: A golden colossus of the jungle, Peeves measures ninety inches from head to hindquarters. His tail extends three feet behind him, swinging in rhythmic motion with thrashing power. Charcoal black stripes extend vertically down his hide and twist around his stocky, muscled legs. The amber mass of matted fur of his body fades into a soft, white color as it reaches his under belly; this same coloration marks the bottom of his jaw and neck. He stretches four feet from the soil to his shoulders. His claws are unnaturally long and sharp (four and a half inches)- though as a dignified beast he commonly retracts them into his lustrous, shadow-color paws. His golden eyes look lazy and uninspired, if a little bit grumpy. A leather riding saddle rests on his back; crammed into the over-stuffed and unzipped pouches are wads and wads of paper money. He enjoys the occasional smoke of shisha- commonly an unlit, small (and travel-friendly) waterpipe hangs from his hungry paws.
weapon special abilities: Is a tiger (has claws, teeth, is big, and can jump pretty far).
History: A discerning hunter prowled about the jungle, searching for the best prey. He knew without thinking to tread softly upon the discarded twigs and leaves; herbivores fled from the sound of snapping or rustling. Desperation nagged at a primal corner of his mind- he knew the hunt could not last much longer. If he found anything at all, it would have to do. It was late into the day, he had grown hungry. The hunter's pace accelerated because of his querulous nerves. One misstep later and he found himself planting his leg firmly into a thick bale of leaves. Birds scattered into the air, crying out in horror. The hunter had not seen another predator, though he heard it cry a belligerent challenge. The Hunter wiped the sweat of unrest from his brow, and then accepted. As the battle began, a golden beast pounced.
A gun shot rang out; the hunter's rifle vomited out a puff of smoke. His aim was perfect- he could see the tiger's chest was blasted through. The pensive grimace on his face melted into satisfaction; he had been biting his lower lip- it unfurled and the corners of his mouth raised slowly. The smile of a sophisticated warrior revealed itself. He reached into the pouch of his breast pocket and withdrew a flaregun. He hoisted the tool sky-loft and trained the barrel to the sky; his finger twitched inward and a burst of flame erupted into the indigo-colored sky. The Hunter began to set up camp.
A baboon had seen the flare- master was calling. Abruptly it pulled its eye from the telescope, and moved towards the balcony's railing. It hurdled over the obstacle quickly and landed on the manor's front deck. The baboon snatched a pack from a table with its wretched fingers wrapped around the strap. The rucksack was heavy, brimming with food for the master. The baboon had been instructed prior to fetch master's rations and follow the flare to his camp. They would stay in the jungle over night.
It's pace was vivacious, though it was not until nightfall that it found the small settlement. Admonishment was given by the master, but it was not serious; the hunter too had taken too much time with his job. The tiger he had shot still had not been dressed, and the heat had made it smell. He had ignored the beast and focused on establishing a shelter. The second priority of the hunter was eating. The baboon handed off the rucksack. Neither had noticed a confused cub hiding in the nearby vegetation. The dead tiger was its mother.
The baboon sniffed the air and caught wind of a neglected cub. He pranced toward it carefully with a peach in his grip and extended the sweet fruit forward. The tiger cub swatted away the primate's hand, but pounced on the falling peach. A small burst of nectar squirted out of the pulp as the cub's teeth sunk in.
"You seem to favor delicate tastes over the savory. Provided you do remain civil, we shall become properly acquainted." The Baboon said, affectionately stroking the top of the cub's head. This was the day Bartholomew Bartlett met his most reliable associate, Peeve. The bonds of friendship would harden over time and temper through the fires of adversity (whatever that means).
Thu Jan 24, 2013 10:50 pm
