Tracey

Red-eye Hannigan, that (nick)name alone used to bring about terror and dread in the days of the old west. This twenty-two year old coyote gal's description of her tan fur with tinges of black along her shoulders and the top part of her tail, having long flowing brown hair the reaches just passed her shoulders. Then there were her eyes, the right one a bright yellow in color the left one a deep and almost glowing red. (Hence her nickname.) Her body measurements being something that could make any saloon girl jealous, standing at six foot eleven inches tall with a pair of D breasts and trim waist accentuated by firm rounded hips.

Her clothes being a pair of dark brown slacks and a pair of black chaps, a pair of .45 revolvers held in holsters by a black leather bullet belt around her waist. As well as a carrier satchel slung over her shoulder and resting on her left hip. Her right hand having white cloth wraps on her right hand.(On occasion she carries a lever-action rifle, bowie knife and a lasso as well as a couple sticks of dynamite. Other times she's not armed at all.) She also wearing a red button up short-sleeved shirt with a dark brown vest and a deep grey duster. (Trench coat.) A red bandanna around her neck and her usual black hat, a set of spurs lazily resting around the ankles of the brown and white snakeskin boots she wears. An earring Made from an old sheriff's tin star at the base of her right ear. These things were something every lawman watched for in a crowd. One thing she always has on her is a harmonica.

Tracey ran a rather ruthless gang of bandits, back in 1864. She was quite the notorious thief and hand been known to leave a saloon, drunker than anything and sometimes with a rather rounded stomach. Now the numbers of her gang were in the hundreds at the peak of their glory days. Each member having a a bounty of near or over one-hundred dollars on them. Tracey herself having a bounty of about five-hundred dollars on her head. The difference being it seemed she was the hardest to catch, with her devious personality and mischief loving mind, seems there was a very big secret to her.

Little did anyone know, save for the top members of her gang, she has a few special powers, something she calls diamond vision, which meant startling accuracy with most projectile weapons, thrown or otherwise. Not to mention some bizarre magics. Including the ability to drop a man dead after a few minutes with him, the death always accompanied by a flash of blue light. (Soul stealing.)

There were numerous reports of her death in various ways over the years, hangings the most common of them. But sure as the day is long about a week after her body was supposedly buried she'd be back and usually robbing a stage coach. (Self reform ability.) When on the run there had been rumors that she could disappear into and get aid from the very shadows around her. (Ability to control shadows, to a point.) Things were going great for both her and her gang. slowly though, it seemed that one after another each team of her gang, no matter how big she made it, wouldn't come back.

These turn of events baffled the young coyote to no end and one night she got fed up. Deciding to do a job alone she wandered lazily into the local mining town, over confident as usual, smiling when the few people who saw her cleared out of her way. She wasted no time in moving to the local bank, putting the bandanna she wears over her face for the show of it. Taking a simple two shots into the ceiling and stated her intentions. Next thing everyone knew she was running from town with a satchel of mostly gold, a little silver and paper money. It wasn't long before the local law took after her.

She managing to get a ride by mounting the saddle of a feral horse and kicked it in the sides with her spurs. It not taking long for her to be caught up with. She having planned for something of this magnitude, she headed for the nearest box canyon to throw them off her trail, little did she know an earthquake would cause a landslide to block the entrance on both ends, collapsing the ground and throwing her from her steed, after the local law cleared the rubble from the path, neither her nor the stolen goods she had were never found, they figuring she got herself killed.

Lucky for her, that wasn't the case. A few hours later, at least for her she would stumble her way into nexus park. Still carrying the satchel of money and precious metal, not wanting to give up her ill-gotten goods. The coyote gal isn't used to modern day technology so can be thrown off her guard by being shown the simplest of things, her curious nature to much for her own good.


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*Tracey's Journal*

(Recent Events.)







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(Note: For a reference to her fur color, look here .)





Something to listen to while reading her profile.





My current time. And the current type of watch Tracey has herself.