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Name: Klude (Kl-ew-d)

Gender: Male

Race: Kludde (Water Spirit)

Hair: Black, short and a bit messy. (Get's less wild as he get's older)

Eye Color: Medium blue, with a light blue ring around the pupil.

Body: He has the body of an average healthy boy, other than the black furred wolf ears and tail. Though, even those are not 'normal'. Each are oddly long, and the tips seem to fade into whisps of shadow, which looks kind of like smoke. His skin color is a dark warm grey, almost back. He also has wings on his back, which are shades of pink, orange, lilac, and sky blue that swirl together to resemble a sunset. Finally, there is a large tattoo that wraps around his chest a few times that looks like chains.

Clothing: Usually plain clothes that consist of blacks, blues and greys. Never wears anything that covers his chest, if he can help it (Which shows off his chain markings.). As he gets older, it changes to more fancy, gentlemanly clothes. Nice pants and a blazer, but still no shirt underneath, to show off his tattoos.

Personality: As a kid he is a bit... mean. Not cruel, he does have a heart. But he loves playing pranks and other childish things. Skips school, doesn't eat his veggies... normal punk kid stuff. As he gets older he matures, becoming more gentleman like. He still likes pulling pranks, but he does them in a more sneaky way, so that he's sure not to get caught.

Likes: Sunsets, walks on the beach (No really, he does.), water, horror movies, playing pranks, reading Robin's books.

Dislikes: Bright light, fire, romance movies/novels.

Abilities: Though his skills are not really noticable as a child, as he grows older he will be able to control shadows to some extent. He'll be able to hide in them, and make them grow in size (resulting in the room he's in becoming oddly darker). He also can hold his breath for a slightly unnatural length of time. Other than that, he adores the water, and can easily swim and hide in it's depths.

Weaknesses: He get's sick from too much heat


Kludde Myth Info:

In Belgian folklore, a water spirit which roams the Flemish country side. This creature, called Kludde, hides in the twilight of dawn and sunset and attacks innocent travelers. Warned travelers listen for the only sound which betrays that Kludde is in the vicinity: the rattling of the chains with which the spirit is covered.

Kludde usually appears in the shape of a monstrous black dog that walks on his hind legs. The faster one walks, the faster this monster follows, often swinging through the trees like a giant snake. No one can ever hope to outrun or escape this creature. The dog is not the only shape in which it can be seen. It can also assume the shape of a huge, hairy, black cat or a horrible black bird.

Taken from http://www.pantheon.org/areas/bestiary/articles.html

Just something that introduces Robin and Odin. =3

RP Sample #1

One would think that after five hundred and forty-three years, Robin would have been forced to learn something about safety. Unfortunately, her clumsiness had gotten the better of her again. Black blood dripped from her index finger slowly, gently flowing down the alabaster sink where it bled into the water pooled at the bottom. She sighed and grabbed a large hand full of toilet paper and held it against her finger, wincing slightly as the pressure made the wound hurt worse. That was the only bad thing about being the guardian of such a large library. Paper cuts were almost a daily occurrence, especially with her fumbling, accident prone hands.

She glanced up into the large mirror long enough to catch her reflection. Eyes the color of foamy sea water stared back at her, and brown hair lay heavily over her left shoulder, tied into a thick braid that reached to her knees. She’d spent a good deal of her life growing the locks. Her father would have scolded her for leaving such an investment in a poor state, but it was much easier to tend to this way… And she never had the heart to cut it. The scribe left the bathroom quickly and walked slowly back to her study, pausing in the doorway to examine her finger once again. The cut had stopped bleeding, thankfully, but still left a black line across her finger. She frowned at the ink soaked piece of paper and sighed, then tossed it into a near by trash bin.

“What a waste… You should have tried to wring some into a bottle.”

Robin frowned slightly and glanced up to find the owner of the voice, her eyes scanning the large library until she saw the plump grey cat sitting on one of the many plush, red velvet covered chairs. Its parchment yellow eyes glared back at her in a chastising manner, and for a moment she could have sworn that they looked amazingly similar to her father’s…

“It was only a couple of drops,” She replied, defensive but not disrespectful.

The cat mewed in annoyance and glanced away, his stubby old legs uncoiling slowly as he stood. Even though he looked like he’d been hit by a car or two, the old cat resembled a normal grey tabby. If he didn’t speak, he could have been mistaken for one… Fortunately for him, his nature was never mistaken, for he was hardly ever seen with his mouth shut.

“Those couple of drops could have written at least three pages…” He grumbled, jumping down from his spot on the chair. Robin frowned and merely nodded, feeling too weak to argue with him. She’d just finished writing a particularly long chapter, which had used up quite a bit of ‘ink’.

The young scribe sunk down into a couch and leaned back, a bit of relaxation desperately needed. Sea colored eyes gazed around the large room tiredly, her mind unconsciously counting each book as she went. There were hundreds stacked on the old gold trimmed shelves… Even thousands. One volume for each month of each year since she had moved into this house, one chapter wrote every single day. It was all written in her blood. That was her job after all, her birth right passed down from her father. Which was passed down from his mother, and from her mother… And so on. Their entire family was scattered around the globe, each responsible for recording the history of one country. Each day she sat in this room and recorded the happenings of the past 24 hours- ranging from catastrophic events, to mass murders… And even the occasional kitten stuck in a tree. Everything that meant anything to anyone was recorded and written down. It was a rather hard and tiring job… but someone had to record time.

She gazed down at her bandage covered fingers and frowned. It was a pretty painful job as well. Only her blood, ink made just for her, could do the job. She could recall a time as a child that she used store bought ink… The startled scribe didn’t even have the time to get through one sentence before the page burst into flames.

There was a sudden and loud crash that came from the front hallway, making the girl and cat jump slightly. She frowned and gazed at the door, but didn’t have the strength to stand… Or at least didn’t feel like it. “Odin… Will you go see what it is? It better not be that mouse… You said that you caught that disgusting little beast.” She said softly, her voice as polite and gentle as always, though she couldn’t hide the distaste as she mentioned the mouse that had tormented her the past month.

Odin lowered his head sheepishly and quickly stood, running out the door and down the stairs that led to the front door. While watching his departure, Robin couldn’t help but wonder if that heroic story, involving the shattering of her favorite vase, that Odin had told her last week was actually a lie…

She didn’t have the time to think about it any longer, as another loud noise came from the hallway, this time the confused cry of Odin himself. Deciding that she’d have to get up to investigate herself, she stood with a soft groan and stumbled out of the door and to the stairs, gazing down at the scene below her. She gasped at the sight… Broken stained glass coated the floor, along with a dumbfounded Cat who was sniffing…. A cabbage.