User:Sesthiliss
Character description:
Sesthiliss is usually one form of dragon or other winged lizard or snake. Although she does have grasping arms, she tends to have trouble standing upright for long periods, and often finds herself preferring to sit unless she is holding someone, lest she be forced to walk on all fours to prevent back pain. Such also makes it hard to use items in her hands for extended periods. She is extremely light for her size, and is able to be easily thrown about at the leisure of another, but usually takes advantage of this to allow her to hold onto others when she embraces them to reduce spinal strain, allowing her to stand upon her hindlegs without problems, and without bringing disquiet to those she does embrace. Most of the time she finds it nigh impossible to focus wholly beyond heat of the moment needs. Lending to her very much preferring supporting others out in the field over waiting in town or trying to carry on solo. Lest the distractions lead to certain other problems... She spends most of her idle time reading psyche reports of other ferals and attempting to write her own for their betterment. Her former career being one of the few things ingrained enough within her head to keep instinct at bay. But being feral herself it's still hard work, if fulfilling. She appreciates the efforts of the promethians, in bringing about her return to, at least some level of sapience, and thus she works to help those ferals in need. Though she does not hesitate to strike down those that would do her harm. She has found it impossible to speak, since her return. And refuses to resort to bestial groveling and hissing.
First notes and recorded interaction. Sesthiliss is nervous, and easily distracted by her own need to seek the dispensing of affections. Although often fighting with herself in one way or another, she generally resists. Having two activities that fight back her instinct. Cuddling close with others, and acting on the experiences of her former career as a well learned doctor. Her first stint in Zephyr left her easily distracted.
8/13/2020
Even as she attempted to get her notes in order and try to memorize them, her base needs had begun to irritate her. Making it hard to read, an itchiness pervading her nethers that left her initially irritable. Then they came, speaking openly where naught but rapid footsteps had been audible before. Something of hats and weapons, sensitive hearing and who they were. She barely heard their names as her mind began to drift to other things again. Memorizing the psych eval' notes just wasn't going to happen like this. She began to watch the feline in fancy clothing, who flaunted her background as a twister of things beyond the grasp of science, magic. And the racoonish one, who prattled on about salvage. She didn't care to listen much honestly. But something itched inside. She went to stand, as another approached, speaking excitedly. But Sesthiliss was too out of it to understand or notice as she closed, and without warning wrapped her arms about Pratt. She softly snuggled against him for a bit before she noticed the bun. A rabbit of sorts made of various sweets had stepped into the chance meeting beyond her notice. She didn't care though, as she pulled the bun in as well, hugging both closely. Nothing crossed her mind as she relaxed, finally feeling clear headed, and happy again, as stress left her and she began to smile. She looked across the table, but the feline shied away, scooting further back. It drew a slight sadness from Sesthiliss, but it didn't last, as something entered her mind. Something she must have forgotten. Couldn't figure out what, as she finally relented of the embrace. Accepting Pratt's offer of a cookie, as she began to nibble on it. Then she saw it, and memory flashed, with minor panic as she saw their state. Oh no! She quivered, she didn't want to leave so sooon. They were so nice... well except for the feline. She grabbed the coon and sugarbun for one more quick hug, tucking them close before releasing them softly, bolting off, to collect the papers. They were dirtied and trodden upon, somewhat ripped, though luckily still salvagable. She had to wave and be off. And so she did, regretful, as the itch returned again. But she felt she could finally focus again. At least for a little while.
