Hi there. I'm Tornado, and I was summoned in 1962 to be Papa Nihil's air ghoul. I, of course, play piano. I also paint, crochet and play kalimba. I've been keeping up the library and gallery for the Ministry.
A Tumblr blog seems like a good way to express myself and look at pictures.
Feel free to ask questions :)
What do they look like?
They're 5,11" (180 cm)
They have feathers like that of a Tawny Owl
They have goat ears and horns. Their horns are a bluish grey and are thin but sturdy. They have goat legs
They have the air alchemy symbol on their forehead, where the third eye goes. On their cheeks are false eyes
Those false eyes are also on the backs of their ears and their wings!
They also have feathers for hair
They have a staring habit
They're like if an owl and a goat had a baby and it was an air ghoul
Their facial structure is kind of like an owl's
What is their personality?
Personality type is INFJ-T
Very anxious - gets stage fright and feels like everyone's eyes are in them (think fluttershy in that one episode)
Prefers to stay on task but will follow along if someone asks them to do something unrelated
They like to make sure all the books in the library are ordered efficiently and that the gallery is clean
They like to read and paint as hobbies other than piano and kalimba
They prefer to do landscapes and still lifes
They also prefer to read classic literature
Enjoys doing makeup for others - it's like working on a canvas
Prideful of their feathers
Non-binary (using they/them pronouns)
They like to wear skirts - long ones that cover their legs to the ankles because they're insecure about the goat legs
NSFW is allowed but I'd rather we take it to DMs. Anything out of character will be marked [OOC///]
winged whumpee whose wings are rarely groomed, and when they are, it's with cold hands and with none of the comfort that comes with the act of familial or pack grooming. whumper likes to mock them— telling them all about how ugly their wings are, while plucking out feathers bent or out of place as whumpee squirms in discomfort. there's a void opening it's maw wide within them as they struggle to stay still and not exacerbate the agony, tears sliding down their cheeks as they dig bloody crescents in the meat of their palms. they can't do this on their own. they've tried, they really have— but their hands never reach the plumage properly, and they often end up causing more harm instead of good.
so they tremble through the threats of a broken wing bone as whumper plucks the wings out after ruffling them all wrong. they clench their jaw and they don't scream, waiting for it to be done so they can curl into their bare corner— void of blankets and pillows and little trinkets they used to collect. whumper is only going through the trouble because a bad molting is even worse to deal with. infection may set in, and no one wants to spend that much time or energy on whumpee.
and if they curl their wings tighter around them while slumped on floor, carding fingers through the feathers— well, nobody has to know.
An air ghouls' silhouette is like no other. Goat horns almost always perfectly symmetrical, wings tucked up and heavy on their back, and eyes wide as plates staring one down until their very soul was handed over. A high bitch song whistling through the crisp air and sounding all around, air ghouls are the closest Hell got to Heaven.
"Hello," came a whispery voice from behind Green Arrow, head tilted, hands in pockets and body leaning forward curiously. This ghoul looked like an angel, beautiful like none could imagine with pale feathers like that of a barn owl.
- @tornado-ghoul 🦉
Ollie spent enough time with Bruce to not be entirely surprised when someone snuck up on him, though he did still tense slightly as he turned around. His fingers tightened around his bow, not loading an arrow yet but keeping his other hand free to grab one if he needed to.
"Hi. You lost?" He asked. "Not many people spend their nights on rooftops, stalking vigilantes."
"I'm not stalking," they corrected, tilting their head the other way. "Just looking around. I like your bow and arrow. Where did you get it? Did you make it?" The ghoul hadn't blinked and it was starting to become difficult to determine what eyes were real and what eyes were false.
The fan of feathers that was their tail swept the ground as they circled Ollie, eyeing up every part of him. Not hungrily, or lustfully, but with an undying curiosity. They had always found humans fascinating, and liked to inspect how individuals dressed and carried themselves. The ghoul took a journal and pencil out of their satchel and began to take notes, even sketching out the human.
"I made it." He replied, studying the ghoul before him. "Most bows these days can't handle the things I need them to. Had to tailor it to my needs."
Ollie watched them, staying in place but keeping note of where they were at all times. He raised a brow at the journal and pencil, gaping slightly in surprise when they started to take notes and sketch him. "Okay.. This'll definitely go down in the books as the weirdest encounter I've ever had."
"Interesting. What do you need it for? Are you like Robin Hood? Do you shoot apples on people's heads?" This ghoul had enough questions to fill a reservoir. They peered at Ollie's face to sketch it down accurately, leaning just a bit too close to be polite.
"What's your name?" they asked, "humans all have names. It's one of my favourite things about you." Tornado bent themself nearly in half to see the details of Ollie's Green Arrow costume, so that it could be drawn.
"In a way, I guess? I don't rob from the rich and give to the poor, I just help put the corrupt behind bars for good. I could shoot an arrow on someone's head, you offering to stand still long enough for me to demonstrate my skill?" Really, he'd take any opportunity to show off.
"Green Arrow." He wasn't stupid enough to tell them his real name right off the bat. "Want me to strike a pose for you?"
"I'm not very good at staying still, sorry." Tornado wrote down a bit of information and the name, before putting the journal away in the satchel. "No, need, I already drew you. Green is a funny name. I've not heard that before."
Tornado took a step back and stuck out their hand stiffly for a handshake. "My name is Tornado. I was called that because I'm an air ghoul. Isn't that funny? Is your name Green because you wear green? And Arrow because you use a bow and arrow? Names are so funny."
"I see that." He huffed, momentarily pulling down his cowl enough to run his fingers through his hair before pulling it back up. "That was fast. Send me a copy in the post, I want it framed." Ollie was mostly joking, though he was definitely curious to see how it looked.
"An air ghoul?" He cautiously shook their hand, brows furrowed. "It's not- My name's not actually Green Arrow, that's the secret identity I have. A hero, part of the Justice League, protector of Star City." He left out the part where he drew a lot of inspiration from Robin Hood.
"Oh, the post! I know that! I like the stamps. I'll ask if I'm allowed and see then. I should be allowed. I'm very well behaved, so Frater likes me a lot." Tornado mimicked what Ollie did with his hair with their feathers, adding a little "hm" afterwards when they discovered that it didn't actually do anything.
"then why'd you say it is?" The ghoul tilted their head almost ninety degrees to the right now. "Star City is very pretty. Thank you for keeping it that way. I'm part of the Ghost Project. We aren't supposed to talk about it, but if you can say the wrong name then I guess it's fine to mention it!"
Ollie just watched, a little stunned. He'd never had an encounter anything like this before. "..Right. Of course you'd like the stamps."
"Because-" He sighed, running a hand down his face. "Jesus, I'm too tired to figure out whether you're fucking with me or not. I said the 'wrong name' because heroes don't usually tell people their civilian identities - we stay anonymous."
"I'm glad you like Star City. My kids and I work hard protecting it. Tell me more about this Ghost Project?"
"Fucking with you? No, I'm just asking. It seems a bit silly." Tornado ran their own hand over their face, mirroring Ollie's movements and gestures. Their wings fluttered, a bit tired of holding themselves up to not dirty their feathers on the ground. It was wet and dirty, two things Tornado didn't like to be.
"Well, we go around and spread the word of Satan Almighty to the world. It's quite fun! That's why they summon ghouls. I was summoned in 1962. I think I was first, if I remember right. There were five then, but we have dozens of ghouls now!"
"You- Okay, I should've probably expected that. You don't do well with metaphors or sarcasm, do you, Big Bird?" Ollie noticed the way they kept copying him, but he remembered the way Bruce used to do the same, occasionally, when he was trying to fit in with others.
He inhaled sharply at their explanation. "Right, okay. So, where were you all summoned from, dare I ask?"
"Oh, no, no I don't. I've been told I'm not good at that." Tornado stroked their feathers quietly, like someone at an interview twiddling their thumbs. They stared directly at Ollie's eyes, like eye context was as compulsory as breathing to them.
"Hell. Specifically the Pit. That's where ghouls live! It's the lowest part of hell, so there isn't a lot of natural light there, but there's plenty of fire from the fire ghouls!" That definitely went into a bit of a ramble and would continue snowballing if Ollie didn't shut them up.
Ollie watched every small movement, alert and wary even though they didn't currently seem to be of any threat to him. He wanted to make sure they stayed that way, if only until he knew how powerful they were.
"The Pit? Sounds real cosy." He mumbled sarcastically, making mental note to do some research after this encounter. "Why did they summon you? We've got more than enough people trying to take over the earth, we don't need any more."
Tornado whistled quietly as they looked around, mind growing bored of standing around with nothing to do. They began walking around and picking up bits of rubbish that had accumulated on the rooftop, producing a little bag to tuck them away in.
"It isn't. The Pit is nothing like it is up here. I like it up here a lot." Tornado shook the bag and fell to sit cross legged on the dirty floor. They took out their sketchbook and a glue stick and began to flatten out the rubbish onto a page.
"I don't know. Things used to be a lot more serious, but now we get to just do stuff. I think the Clergy know a lot more about Hell than they should and they know how to deal with ghouls. I don't know for certain, but I'm pretty sure my pack isn't the first they've had. We're probably the first to live, though."
Ollie gave a small hum of approvement when he saw them picking up the rubbish, knowing it likely wasn't something that had to be done in the Pit if there wasn't packaging for things to come in.
"You like it up here? Wow. Don't think I wanna know what it's like down there, then." He joked, trying to get closer to look at what they were making. "What's that? A scrapbook of bits and bobs?"
He shelfed the talk about the Clergy for now, not wanting them to know he was digging for information.
"Yes, it is! I like to draw in here a lot and do little collages. Mountain likes them, so I try to do a few a week if I can and he can look at them. The rubbish you lot throw away is so cool! I don't know why it's always on the floor but it's good enough for me because I get to use it!"
Tornado's feathers puffed slightly in delight and comfort. They loved when people asked about their art and collages and such. Honestly, they didn't even realise that Ollie was seeking information. They were a little airheaded like that.
Looks great, Big Bird. Can't wait to have it hanging in the entryway for people to see when they come in. What kinda frame would go best with it, do you think?