Cimri Mayensis

[Cimri Mayensis]

Name: Cimri Mayensis

Age: 20

Race: Cougar-shifter

In Human Form:

Height: 5'2"
Weight: 105 lbs
Physical Description: I've never had a problem keeping weight off, and between my job and my furry self, I've kept pretty fit as well. However, 105 pounds is not a lot to stretch out, even when it's just over five feet, so what curves I have are rather... uncurvy. I have my mother's golden eyes, but the black streaks in my short, spiky amber hair are from my father. When my bangs grow long enough to tangle with my lashes, which they do frequently, I tend to be lazy and cut them myself, resulting in a somewhat jagged edge. I got rather lucky with a lack of freckles and flaws on my tanned skin, and I personally believe that the cat-like tilt of my eyes, the thick, dark lashes, and my slender waist can come in handy as distractions during "nefarious" deeds. My general clothing options are linen in black, more black, a couple shades of charcoal, and a carnelion-colored blouse and black swirling skirt for when I want to go wild.

In Cougar Form:

Height: 2'1"
Length: 7'3" (from my nose to the tip of my fluffy tail)
Weight: 90 lbs
Physical Description: My furry self is also fairly scrawny. Possibly more so, but your average man does not (wisely, in my opinion) approach a puma and mention that she's too skinny for his tastes. I tend to be rather vain about my pelt, unlike my hair, and I keep it carefully groomed. All the better to show off its dark amber color and the sudden blackness at my extremities. Other than that, a smart person would observe that my very white teeth and claws are also very sharp - part of that whole "don't piss off the puma" thing.

Half-Form:

Height: 5'1"
Weight: 105 lbs
Physical Description: Most of me remains human in looks, but I can control it. I tend to grow claws and teeth sharpen. Control just allows me to grow a pelt in human form, for those times when I shift and forget my clothes. If my pupils are vertical slits, check my hands for claws.

Possessions: I have two possession aside from the essentials. Cheap, tiny gold hoops that stay in my ears regardless of my form (three up each side), and a simple, sharp dagger that I carry in a sword's sheath so I have empty space at the bottom. Because as every girl knows, the fastest way to a man's heart is six inches of steel between his ribs. Oh, and given my larcenous tendencies, I can frequently be found in possession of other people's possessions.

Powers or Strengths:

Power isn't exactly my thing. My mother was pretty good at shifter-healing magic. My father learned to step into the astral plane. I pretty much forget that changing forms is actually magic.

The one magic I practice at is shifting, though. Because I'm hereditary and the cougar is so much a part of me, I have very strong control over the change. I can shift a claw out of one finger and leave the rest of me completely human, for example, or give my cougar a (semi) human throat, though my speech in that form is little better than grunted half-sentences.

I am good at street-fighting, but I don't resort to it often. Pickpockets get picked up more frequently when they cause a fuss.

Given my feline nature, I am light on my feet, and very fast, which is why I'm good at fighting. Not through any amount of muscles on my part. I also have sensitive hearing and smell, but I tend to dull those because humans are loud, smelly beings.

Through about seven years of practice, I've earned my abilities of picking pockets and visiting people I don't know at their houses. While they aren't home.

And of course, I have that special ability to grow claws and sharp teeth on command. Occasionally I even remember I can heal myself.

Weaknesses:

I weigh 105 lbs - If you can get past the speed and agility, I don't have a lot of muscle. In fact, I have had opponents in the past simply sit on me. Those bullies.

Obviously, I can't wear silver. I'd have to be a masochist. But I found out the hard way that I am also allergic to sheep. Not the meat. Just the wool.

And the least fun of my weaknesses. And the most embarrassing. I'm afraid of spiders. Terrified. That blood-curdling scream that cougars are known for is, in my case, usually the result of running into a spiderweb. Cimri shudders in horror.

History:

"Cimri, open your eyes."

"Come on... It's my birthday. Can't I sleep in?"

"Not unless you want to take an ice-bath. In bed," her dad rumbled.

Cimri twisted and flipped out of bed, barely managing to not take her sheets with her. "I'm up! I swear!" She loved swimming in the Ofriyu, but that didn't mean she wanted winter water freezing her mattress.

"Happy birthday, Kitten. I promised you when you became a teenager I'd take you on a job, didn't I?"

All traces of sleepiness vanished and Cimri sat upright. "A job? You mean you're going to teach me to lift today?"

"That's right, Kitten."

...

The street was coated in dirty slush from the snowfall two nights ago. The noise pressed against her eardrums - very different from the distant part of the woods where her family's den was. Her nose twitched as a sweaty farmer lumbered past, and she looked up at her father, the question clear in her eyes.

"Not him. He wouldn't have hardly anything worth taking. Besides, people with almost nothing are very careful about protecting what they do have."

They slipped further down the street - a lot of it actual slipping on Cimri's part, as she'd never had to wear human footwear before. Her clothes were splotched in multiple locations by the time her father found a mark.

"Remember what I taught you? Smile, be adorable if caught. Use those big eyes in your favor." He chucked her under the chin. "But most importantly - be nimble, be quick, and don't get caught!"

With that, he ambled off in a different direction, ignoring her as surely as if they'd never met. She eyed the mark: a large woman browsed a fruitstand, poking at the produce with an eagle eye. The silk blouse proclaimed her wealth in a city of poor as surely as a purple banner.

Cimri walked towards her, never altering her inconspicuous stroll. Amid the busy crowd, the fruit-poker never noticed one more person brushing up against her. Discreetly dropping the pouch of Bishan into the empty space at the bottom of her dagger sheath, she turned down a side street and was almost out of hearing range before the shouts of alarm started. Apparently pokey-lady couldn't pay.

A low-pitched growl, a pre-arranged signal, reached her ears, and Cimri stepped around the corner of the building and into her father's bear-hug. "Congrats, Kitten."