Time: 4.5 hours
Soundtrack: Dead Man's Chest (COME ON!)
Media: Adobe Photoshop Elements

A colour reference sheet of the captain...
Yes; with his hat! There is also one without his hat, which was draw originally. A background will be added and this will turn into a real picture.

Character and Image © Rick S.

~*~*~*~

Name: Kyrmaer (Kear-mahrr) Corsica (Core-sick-uh) aka Casey
Species: Prycon Lytor aka Raccoon
Age: 23 seasons/46 years

Appearance:

Very dark grey fur covers his toughened, scarred flesh and remains well-groomed and glossy, for Kyrmaer Corsica, or ‘Casey’ as his dubbing is hailed, is a prestigious beasts. A black mask of fur covers his eyes and snout to clash with white jowels, going down his back and circling his tail in intricate spiral rings until they reach the very end, where they blot the tip as though having dipped it in ink. His eyes, with blazing red streaks thrown throughout the whites, are a very awkward, yet very deep dark turquoise colour, matching the skies before a squall, hence giving him a very foreboding look when one takes the time to study him. His ears, coal black, have white spots upon their backs, along with suspicious bite-marks and torn-out chunks. His teeth are slightly yellowed and tarnished from smoking and a lack of hygiene brought on by months spent at sea, and yet he still has managed to keep them cleaner than most other sailors.

He’s a very large beast, tall and brawny with a well developed upper body from years of sailing, and his back, although he is getting on in years, can still handle much stress. Mild rheumatoid arthritis seems to be setting into his hip and tail joints, but it does not slow him down, and if he is pained by it, he suffers silently. The fur along his neck is quite long, long enough for him to braid into one very long tress. There are spots on his hide that are shaved away and kept trimmed for cleansing purposes, though mainly to keep his tattoos visible however. He sports a bit of a beard and moustache, the fur by his nose and nose-bridge, as well as his jaw line and chin growing much thicker than the rest of his facial fur. The fur is neatly trimmed, however, though his whiskers are bent and split and thus give him an infuriatingly hard time in keeping himself look presentable.

Sporting a dark albeit faded and weather-worn turquoise gentlebeast heavy knee jacket, he keeps under it a white reefer coat and a black animal-hide vest, keeping him very warm in the horrible stifling climate of Caellach, and yet Kyrmaer seems very comfortable. His black pants are loose-fitting yet snug, made of cotton, and are tucked into his mid-shin length black boots. All of his clothes are kept in good condition save for the odd yet well-sewn on patch, and his hats appears to be the only article ready to be discarded. Broad-brimmed and with a black leather strap spanning its circumference to hold a large, exotic bird feather to it, it’s once turquoise colour is now a near grey-blue. Its brim is clipped, torn, frayed, and loosing its shape, and yet it is a prized possession Kyrmaer holds. His paws are bound in two black leather gloves that have the fingers cut off at the knuckles in order to make his smoking habit easier and his grip firmer. Beneath his hat, a turquoise bandana is wrapped around his brow. His feet are wrapped in linen bandaged, comfortable and protecting against the water that leaks into his boots. He wears two belts, each bearing an article of weaponry. A cutlass sits beside a dagger, while on his other side he can occasionally be seen wearing a prestigious long sword with dirk beside it. Within his boots are tucked knives, and tucked up his sleeve is a phial of crushed glass dust, which he only brings with him on special occasions.

Personality:

Captain Casey, as his subordinates will call him when he’s in a jovial mood or out of hearing range, is not a racoon to be crossed. His sleek and charming mannerisms are only a side-step away from his harsh, cruel demeanour. His grooming habits, his obsessive compulsive nuances, his demand for perfection and order: all give raise to the simple conclusion that if he isn’t given respect, he’ll take it and not bother to pay it proper the homage for his troubles. He can be quite the punisher, and isn’t afraid to use his tyrannical power to the absolute max.

He is a good captain to his crew, surprisingly, and treats them well if they serve him well. He expects discipline and control from them while at sea, and loyalty from them in battle. He’ll use the cat if he sees fit, or give it to the next officer down. Generally, he’s calm and almost gentle, but he is quite capable of lashing out and striking another down. He likes to think of himself as the perfect officer.

An excellent fighter, he’s been around the block and is good with both his paws and blades, not to mention a few literal tricks he has up his sleeves. His command style is very brisk and conservative, though he is a brilliant strategist and conspirator. If he sees a chance to seize power and profit, he’ll do it, and discard any lives that get in his way.

Kyrmaer has a soft spot for young children, however, having never been able to cradle his own. Babes are his favourite, though it is rumoured he once drowned a litter of rabbit bunnies because their father’s ship broadsided his own. He also treats ladies rather well: ladies, those who have had good upbringings and rich backgrounds, giving him the proper motivation to write out a randsom letter.

His language skills are very well mastered, for he has had a very formal, intricate education. He speaks and calculates accurately, and is a very apt navigator.

History:

Born to a highly successful merchant’s daughter and naval admiral, Kyrmaer had a silver spoon in his mouth that he learned to speak well around; more so than his own teachers, proving himself to be quite gifted in the literary arts. His silver tongue allowed him to escape any boyhood trouble he encountered, often pinning it on his least favourite beast of the day. From a young age, he showed himself to be quite the leader, often pulling his friends into any endeavour he so desired.

When he began to mature, he joined the naval fleet his father served, and discovered he had quite the knack for sailing. An officer in no less than four seasons, he outranked many of his friends who had enlisted at the exact same time as him, though he kept them close yet out of the other officer’s eyes, knowing that both social groups would prove useful to him in the long run.

A few years went by when Kyrmaer began to tire of such life as the good seafaring beast. On an assignment in the lands of Diadem, Kyrmaer successfully held a mutiny, proving his theory that keeping in touch with his lower-ranked friends and officer comrades would serve him well. They keelhauled the captain and the crew who resisted, and Kyrmaer was voted captain.

Immediately, he exercised his authority by chasing down a plump merchant vessel and slaughtering all those on board, taking the ship’s cargo, and claiming the ship as his prize. Renaming his naval vessel the Volitation and the merchant vessel the Happy Golden, Kyrmaer set out on more pirating endeavours.

Eventually, he was sent a letter of marquee by the government of a land named Satilian, which if he accepted he would hunt down and attack corsair ships from the coast of Rintique. He signed it, though instead of attacking Rintique pirates, he attacked unsuspecting, falsely safe-feeling Satilian ships. He pirated their trading lines and captured many of their ships, including a few naval vessels. In the end, he captured and renamed the Northern Warrior, Cat’s Eye, Graydon, and Fiery Stranger, which he added to his fleet.

A few seasons passed before he met a female raccoon upon one of his to-be-captured ships, and finding her to be quite impressive, allowed her to negotiate the freedom of the ship’s crew and passengers, not to mention any cargo dealings. She proved to be highly intelligent for a woman of her age, and Kyrmaer, in a very peculiar surprise move, allowed her everything she wanted. Upon questioning him why, he admitted he rather admired and respected her. His furious crew’s inquiries were met with “The prize is mine, gentlebeasts!” and was met with great cheering. Upon asking him what he met, the lady racoon, having introduced herself as Lace, was surprised to find out that Kyrmaer intended to keep her for a while.
She had never negotiated her own release.

Compliant and feeling safe that he would not harm her, Lace humoured, yet soon after began to find his personality quite charming rather than the romanticized blood-thirsty fiend pirates were supposed to be. Eventually, the two began to fall in love, and Kyrmaer had the grace to ask her father’s permission to wed Lace. Granted by a very surprised raccoon merchant, Lace and Kyrmaer were wed, and Kyrmaer made a home for her on the island of Caellach, which soon after became a very successful 'free port'. The pirate colony thrived and Kyrmaer can claim he built it up with his own paws. A ship he captured that he rather fancied, a proud looking, strong three-masted tall ship, was re-named the Red Lace, in honour of his wife and her red fur.

After a few years more of work on the high seas, Kyrmaer returned home out of lonesomeness, for he only seldom spent time with his wife, who only occasionally accompanied him on his dealings. He retired for a while, and the two attempted to start a family. Unfortunately, tragedy after tragedy hit, first with their first born suffering a mysterious crib death and the brutal murder of its nanny at the enraged paws of Kyrmaer. Their second, a litter of three, resulted in stillborns, and after that, a sad series of miscarriages.

Grieving for his wife’s pain and his own losses, Kyrmaer once again established himself as a pirate, this time more ferocious and vindictive than before. He’s been at it for quite some time now, and although his life is on the water, he still constantly returns home to Caellach.

[link] <---his original picture