[ravemn]

Simas are cat/wolf creatures basically. Their paws resemble a wolves while their body structure
could resemble a cat. Simas are also known as 'Sword Mammels'. This name comes from their tail.
The tail is the most important part of a Sima's body. They resemble a sword most of all. They are
thick and fluffy at the base and when the go down the tail, it gets thinner then widens into two
tail guards like the guards on a sword. The jewel acts like the blade.

Two simas, based light and darkness

These two simas have been in conflict for many years, though the sima that represents the light wants it all to stop, but the sima that represents darkness does not wish to. Though, somehow you can be able to make an agreement to end this fight over the two simas... Or will you increase it, leaving the land they live to be consumed in darkness forever. The choice is yours. But make is rated G for cs. If your story is more on the PG13 side, pm me a google doc with your story!

For this competition I want you to tell a story, through writing or art. One partner must choose art and one must choose writing, or the two of you can split it up though each form.

I'll be making these simas under this cover, post your forms on this forum though!

Skeleton form;

Code: Select all

Username;
Sima you are trying for; (light or dark)
Gender;
Personality;
Story;
Art;

QUESTIONS;

When will this end?

Exactly a month from now!

Can we add extras?

As many as you'd like!

Do we have to have a partner for this?

yes!

have anymore questions? PM me!

[G1 Sunstreaker]

ooo mark for sure! <3

[Medd-Lee]

My form is HERE

[ravemn]

Both simas are up!

The competition is open!

Also brownie points to who can guess the Vocaloid song these two are inspired by!

[koegami]

"you used to be my brother
you and I could have ruled together"


Username - Alavii
Partner - Trollish

Name - Eonis
Sima - Dark
Gender - Male


Personality;

When Eonis was younger he was a soft spoken child. He never voiced negativity or anything. Being raised by his mother, she would never allow negative behavior. She cared for him, and loved him unlike his father, who never interacted with him. Due to being ignored by his other family members, he began to grow tired of it. He began to get vengeful, wanting nothing but to give Sinclair and his father what they gave him. As he became older, he took a violent turn, and turned on his kingdom. His innermost feelings created a monster, channeling his feelings into something people who followed him would feel empowered by. He became consumed by his own emotions and became something his mother would have never wanted him to be. He isn't troubled by his demons, instead he uses them to keep his feet moving forward.



Story;

-    Record    -

I am recording my legacy; my legacy will be read forever. Everyone will know what I went through. I am Eonis, the forgotten brother of Sinclair, and perhaps the true king. I am the king that will not be forgotten. I am recording this to once and for all prove that I am not seeking pity. I have many demons, and those of which I will embrace and accept. They have empowered me and I relish in the fact that these demons have not tormented me but made me stronger. I am the king, I am not weak, I am Eonis.

-    Early Childhood    -

My relationship with Sinclair was null and nonexistent. We lived in the same castle, but I never was in the same place with him. I saw Sinclair once or twice in a day; but we never spoke. I never exchanged a glance. I know his voice, but that is all. I was next in line for the throne, if my brother were to ever pass. I am of royal blood, but I was never deemed worthy by my father.
                                                                                                                                      
My mother was a maiden. She was beautiful with the most angelic voice. My mother always treated me with the utmost respect -unlike my sibling and father—and raised me to be an independent boy. She had high hopes for me, to make a difference while not being king. She showed me how to get buy, I took piano and singing lessons from her, she was my teacher and only friend. I regard her with the utmost respect, and did everything to make her pleased with me. She taught me how to play violin, and regard the maids with respect, and help when I can. I learned the values of honesty, and modesty amongst others. With time I got older, and the values I had learned faded away, and my innermost feelings surfaced.

My youth was spent with musical lessons and small meetings with the staff of the castle. I never leave the castle, and keeping myself busy in the castle was becoming increasingly hard. When meetings happened, I could never roam the castle, so I was housed in my room reading up on music sheets and other trivial things. During the day I was doing what my mother wanted, what she knew I loved. During the night I was drawing up plans, plans to get revenge, on my father and on Sinclair. Soon, my time will come.


-    Inauguration Day    -

My mother was murdered in the night. The moment I saw the maids running for help I knew I was alone. My mother, a beautiful flower, and wonderful soul, was unjustly killed. That day I vowed justice will be served, for myself and my mother. I accepted that they were dead, I locked my feelings in my heart, my hate was boiling, it was time. I wanted to be king, to write this wrong and build a new era. I did not smile for the first in a long time. When I heard Sinclair was giving his speech, I knew it was time. Time that I write this wrong.

My resentment took hold. I pulled the curtains back, shouting out these feelings. I told the people, my people, that there was a dangerous group about, and caution should be taken. High society members should be watched, out people should be cared for. I told my people that simply hiding in the shadows set us up for disaster, set us up for our kingdom to be wiped out like swine. That we were stronger than this, and offensive measures should be taken. The lives of our people should be the priority, status should not matter. I remember turning to Sinclair, shouting out that he only wanted to up his status, to prove that he is better.

I wasn’t listening to Sinclair’s bouts of reason, unity and level-headedness wasn’t needed here. We needed to show that we weren’t to be messed with. It was time I had a voice in something; it felt good. I told Sinclair I was to take chaos, to give back what they gave to us. I took a stand, and raised my fist to the air, shouting that I am the true king, the only king, those who didn’t follow him were to be punished harshly. I took off then, feeling Sinclair’s hand on me, I ignored his attempt to stop me, I had been making my own decisions up until now, Sinclair’s aid had been nonexistent, I wasn’t about to take it now. I had this plan forming for years, I was going to see it through.

I started the war. The war between Sinclair and I. My age was young, but I had the heart of the adult. My ambitions would be made clear, my past ended, and my new world began.



-    Alone       -

I loved being alone, sitting in my throne, watching my people work and prosper. I wanted to thank Sinclair for making me who I am. By never playing with me, asking how my day went, or seeing how much progress I made with my lessons. I tried to make myself known, but soon I realized I wasn’t worth his time. And in return he wasn’t worth mine. I gained perfection through my own troubles, learning from them and focusing on what I can do for myself. The only thing that mattered any more was getting retribution. And I got it.

I gained more power and prowess from someone I really thought I’d ever meet. The devil himself gave me the strength, the aid. He and his kingdom aided my own. At the cost of my own soul. The things I learned from him, the things my army learned from them, it was worth every moment. Our injured were never taken care of, they could fend for themselves. They were only concerned in making my dreams a reality, they pledged life and limb for me. They cared about my mission more than anyone ever did, aside from my mother, the beautiful maiden that was painted on our flags, on our armor.

I had long forgotten about my brother. He was considered the enemy. I had my own crown, a crown suited for a king of chaos. Everyone that was in Sinclair’s armour was killed on sight. We took no prisoners, these souls would work well for Lycan, more payment as a thank you for making my dreams and ambitions a reality. My measures were a game a chess, strategy was a thing my mother showed me as she continually bested me in the wretched game. Anytime we raided one of Sinclair’s camps, the food brought back were to feed everyone. Only the soldiers were allowed outside this castle. We prospered and provided for our forces. This castle was large enough for my army, many soldiers didn’t sleep, they continued to protect me. I also got out into the front lines, a subordinate of mine watching the castle. I fought alongside them, protecting them and showing that I could be a good king.

I have not lost my drive. I was to take out the group that took out my mother, then take out my brother’s forces. I do not feel lost without my brother, I did not have a brother when I was young, I don’t need one now. This reality is all that I could hope for. This is all for mother, and the injustice will be taken care of.

I began making some short articles for my people to read. Sending them to the enemy to ensue fear and uncertainty. The bloodshed was to come. I remembered Sinclair’s voice, strained and rough. He always seemed stressed, always running around, but never spending the time to talk. To ignore your own brother is the biggest injustice of all. And now he cannot ignore me, I am all he is thinking about.  My battle speeches roused my warriors to try harder, to make their lives better when this is all over, that we will win.

I never want pity, those who give me it, I despise. I still thank Sinclair for making me who I am, having no regrets except why I didn’t become who I am today sooner.

- Aftermath -



My plans were almost complete. My forces were growing stronger by the day, as did my meddlesome brother's. The war grew in strength each passing minute. I stood at the castle fates with some of my men, just seeing off another wave of troops. We were winning, soon Sinclair would have to see this. This war was made of my feelings, something that I realized was powerful enough to cause a war. Every city in the West and south was under my control, remnants of sinclairs idealists popped up and attacked now and again. I felt weightless, the whole world was experiencing my pain, my suffering, and I relished it. This crown upon my head represents the only thing meant the world to me. My mother. I locked out into the dark, barren and battle scarred land, and couldn't help the small feeling of loneliness that wormed it's way up into my soul.

After so long, something felt amiss. My troops were acting as though they had something to hide, during our meetings they sat as a puddle of armor in their chairs, when they once pounded their fists with vigor at what I had to say. I began to become increasingly suspicious of my armies behaviors, even going so far to enlist help from the devil himself. When the day came, I wasn't prepared for any thing like this. I followed some of my troops in full armor and sword in hand. I was beginning to think everyone around me was working against me. It took some convincing, but I followed them that day.

They were leading me to a blasted building, and my suspicions rose, we have a protocol for meetings, but deep down I was curious. When I entered, I froze for a moment. I stared into the eyes of my brother, the only I will not ever forgive. On instinct I grabbed my dagger and made a rush at him. Sinclair moved at the last moment only to hug me. Ever muscle in my body was screaming to kill him, to finish what I started, to make him feel what I felt. But for the first time, I thought I could hear my mother's soft voice, telling me to let go.

"I'm sorry," Sinclair whispered with a shaking voice, "Irreparably sorry. I know I've wronged you beyond forgiveness, but there's no reason to involve the people any further. I want an end to this death and destruction, Eonis. Perhaps you cannot forgive me-- but please consider ending this bloody, awful war."

My hands shifted slowly and the knife fell from them... I took a sharp breath, still shaking with anger. “First you abandon me as a child, acting as if I were nothing but a ghost. Then, you take the throne spouting your need for unity like a god. After that, you take away my rebellion, whom I trusted with my life.” My voice when dark and I casted a disgusted glance at my former army. “THEN, you come here dressed in commoners’ garb, begging for me to simply forget about this whole war. The war I created, because one conceited sibling of mine forgot about their one and only brother.” I took a breath. "This awful war started because of you brother...."

"This war started because of your crassness. You threw the people into sheer chaos when there was a better way to go about things. I understand I was distant as a child-- however I was trying to do what was best for the people, not what was best for myself." Sinclair exhaled a small sigh and tightened my grip on Eonis, not looking forward to inevitably gazing into his silver eyes at the end of the embrace. "I give you a chance as my brother-- I want for you to cease this madness. People are dying, Eonis. It doesn't matter who's people they are-- they're the people of this country, the people we should rightly be defending. We should not be eliminating our men and women over this squabble. If you must hate me, fine-- but please do not involve the commonwealth in this."

Sinclair released me and stepped away, giving a long gaze into my eyes. The gold seemed to bubble and fester within them. "I give you a chance. Stay here as my brother, or go into exile. I did not steal your troops from you-- rather I talked with them, and they agreed with me. They see what is best for this country and I advise you to do the same. Eonis-- stay with me as a man of royal blood or go-- an exile from your own home. I wish so desperately to forgive you for this awful mess and to remedy my mistakes as your family member. I wish to build the relationship we should've had all along. I just need you to forgive me."

I felt defeated. Everything I worked for, all gone. The fact that my brother deemed himself king and made all the orders, was nothing short of aggravating. This wouldn't blow over the kingdom for a long time, especially with myself holding the title of the sima who destroyed the kingdom. "I do hate you brother, more so now than ever." 'But i'll stay' I wanted to say. "Know this. I do not care for 'royal blood', but know that you and I are equals. You may be the eldest of the family, but I will have a voice in everything that you do. You may hold the crown, but I will not be treated as nothing but a shadow. We are equals or not at all." I rumbled. Something changed in me, something a little happier as a stared at the castle I resided in. "I will remain in my castle, I have grown rather fond of the place -- aside from being soul bound." I said, turning towards my beautiful castle.

I picked up the blade cast to the ground. Slipping it back into its sheath; the crown upon my head remained. This crown represented my mother, the maiden whom I still idolize and love to this day. Glancing back at my brother, I looked behind him, this kingdom would take many months to rebuild. But a kingdom with two rulers seemed to be what the people wanted. Something deep down, I wanted.


Art;

the king > by alavii
crown > by trolli

[Ember the Wolf]

Click to veiw our form <3

[Weeping_Angel }Y{]

(Click above to go to our form)
((Partenered with Ember The Wolf))

[wucaian]

FORM

[jeeter]

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Username; jeeter
Sima you are trying for; light
Name; soleado
Gender; male
Story; partner, trash fan

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'Cause we'll hold each other soon
In the blackest of rooms



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personality; I am a fire escape, my spine's made of iron

Sol was always that special kind of kid. All the grown Simas would leave the room, and as long as he was there they didn't bother worrying. That's not to say, of course, he was never troublesome. Or, that he was a stickler for rules. But he did have this subtle and innate calmness to him that made others trust him. Adults never singled him out, and few other young Sima's did too. Fights, however, seemed to grow to a stop when he was around. He put others before himself without saying a word. Quietly and quickly, he could make disagreements between his peers all but disappear. Of course, his quiet charisma got him in trouble sometimes. With adults who trusted him, what else was he to do except sneak out with his best friend?

[rem sleep]

User -- Trollish
Partner -- Avalii
Sima -- Light
Name -- Sinclair
Gender -- Male

SO BEGINS THE STORY OF CASTLE ORION

Personality -- Perhaps once Sinclair was someone else.
Today if you asked someone from his kingdom to describe him they would say simply-- he's a noble man, but a man with demons.
He's always watching the shadows, tracing the movements out of the corners of his eyes, always being too careful and never letting down his guard. He's a tense person, on guard at all times and suspicious of those who draw near without proof that they are harmless. He can be a bit malicious if you test him, and he's harsh to trespasses and dishonesty. He has a snarling attitude to those who are traitors or liars-- as that hits a... particular nerve with him. Sinclair is a damaged person... quite damaged, truly, by his own cruelties. In the past he was colder-- more distant and vain, almost completely self-absorbed. However-- after the events that transpired with his brother and the civil war-- he can't bring himself to it. He looks into his own gold eyes and can't be content with himself the same way anymore... there's just no way for him to be the same proud man he once was. He's acknowledged more of his own faults, and in that he seeks to better himself. Sinclair is a studious, intelligent mind-- though he has a bit of a brooding face, it's because he's always thinking. He tends to come off stoic and due to his size he is rather imposing at a glance. He feels deep, festering regret for what he did to his brother-- and he loathes his own old self-- his old vanity and blind self-affection-- now he seeks to earn it. Despite being a hardened person-- and a scarred one-- Sinclair is kind at heart, and he has his people's best interest in his mind. He cares deeply about the people who put faith in him and would rather die than see the same for them.
He's a king who fights on the field-- and a king who fights with his heart.

Setting -- Sinclair and his brother Eonis live in a mideval-esque setting. They're the heirs to a kingdom [the kingdom of Orion]-- with Sinclair being the older brother by a year or two. They are inhabiting the same relative kingdom-- and within that, they've been divided. Sinclair took to the west, and Eonis to the east-- leaving the family castle in the middle ground. Sinclair brought about an army of light to war with his brother's army of darkness, and the two have very similar armor designs-- as both were inspired by the kingdom guards they saw in their home castle when they were young. The soldiers defend the villagers of their area. Eonis is more careless when it comes to the civilians, and Sinclair works hard to make sure his soldiers bring back any lives they find too close to the warring zones and bring them into their settlements so that they may be protected. The war has been raging for longer than anyone cares to admit-- long enough for two teenage boys to become two scarred men. Sinclair and Eonis have 'base' castles on their respective sides and barracks for their armies, though many soldiers live in the castle due to a lack of space.

Story -- Some people say documenting things is a good way to get over trauma. I do not necessarily believe this is true, but I suppose anything is worth a try. Now that things have unfolded as they have, perhaps it would be correct to leave a proper documentation for those who are curious, or for those who come after me. I am Sinclair, and I will be documenting to you some stories in my life so that, perhaps, I can find some sort of closure in them. Perhaps in recounting them to myself, in reading the words aloud, I’ll find some deeper meaning to it all. I doubt this most sincerely, but I almost feel I must believe it is true. I fear for what is to come if I am wrong-- I fear for what demons may haunt me until my grave, if I do not find peace with them. And so, I write to you.

- Early Childhood -

Eonis and I were never close. Despite the fact we lived in the same castle, we did not occupy the same space. We’d come and go, flowing past each other like streams. I saw him, yes, but that is about all. I knew the sound of his voice and the tone in which he spoke-- at first, soft and delicate-- and I knew his face. Our relationship was seldom more meaningful than that, I’m afraid. I was the heir to the throne, and thus was always busy-- always moving and working in some new and impressive way. There was always something that called my attention or demanded the presence of royal blood, and I was definitely in the business of polishing my image. Afterall, I was the one next in line for the crown, and I could not show any sign of weakness. I could not risk the disappointment of my father.

My father was a harsh, critical man. Eonis was primarily raised by the queen, while I-- as the heir-- was brought up underneath the king. He was a more stoic and emotionally distant man than our honest mother, and while I saw more of him Eonis was spared that much, at least. He seemed a chipper child, and I figured that by taking on the responsibilities that I was-- that he would remain that way... I was wrong.

I spent my youth scurrying from one meeting to the next, doing volunteer work and public speeches on top of private schooling of the most advanced degree. I was learning how to coordinate troops about the time normal children were learning basic multiplication. I was sparring, jousting, fencing-- improving myself, slowly but surely, into a desirable and well-rounded king. It was my goal to be as close to perfect as I could. Perhaps I was chasing a reflection of my father… perhaps I wanted to be something greater. I wasn’t sure, but there was no time to think. There was no time for much of anything-- certainly, there was no time for Eonis. I did not realize his feelings until it was far too late.

- Inauguration Day -

Our parents were killed in the debt of night, as often happens to royal folk in this part of the country. It sounds impersonal, I am aware, but I can’t simply let myself feel it. To accept the emotional weight of it is to accept it is real. To accept is to dwell, to be swallowed by misery. No, I was the heir to the throne, and I had no time to mourn. The people needed a king, and they were sure to come looking to me for their instruction. I gave a speech that day, though the words are muddled in my mind. I tried to make it seem as though this were not the last day I would smile honestly, but perhaps that was a lie. I was not considering my brother nor his location while I spoke, trying to convince the people of the state of peace.

Eonis came forth from behind the curtain to my back, tears welling in his eyes. He cried out-- told me I had no idea what I was talking about, and that I was speaking of something untrue. The royals knew, of course, that there was a group going around and killing off high ranking society members-- but that was not privy to the public ear. Well, it wasn’t until Eonis called it out to the audience that had gathered in front of the kingdom that day. He raved that this was an outrage-- and that by hiding them, I was helping them.

I turned to him, appalled, and tried to calm him down-- insisting to him that I had no such intent, reminding him of the public peace and the need for unity and level-headedness. Eonis said then that if the penalty for being united was being blind-sided-- he would take chaos. He tossed a fist in the air and declared himself the king-- and said that all who opposed him would have to pay the price. He stormed off then, and I extended a hand to catch him, but he pulled himself from me and walked off without so much as meeting my eyes.

That was when it became a war. A real, civil war, and the two of us were only in our teenage years. That was when the world as we knew it ended, and the modern day began.

- Alone -

In the time I had to myself I became increasingly aware of my wrongdoings. I thought of my brother and my mother-- the people who I saw by far the least often with the most gaps between. I remembered their faces and their voices, but I could not recall a thing they had said. I couldn’t recall the kind words I wanted to hear from Eonis-- I could not substitute the furious, wrath-filled words of the inauguration day with anything else. I couldn’t recall. We did not play when we were children, we did not even attend the same lessons-- I was always trying harder, taking advanced material. I did not notice until it was far too late that I had been pushing away my family for the image of perfection.

It took me many years to come to this conclusion. As the war raged on outside the castle, it didn’t feel real until we had to start having funerals. We saw the injured and the corpses being dragged back together-- and then it hit me. This was no laughing matter, no small dispute, no sibling match… this was a war, a real and authentic one that threatened the lives of everyone I’d ever known-- everyone I’d ever wanted to protect, or sought to defend with my kingly pursuits.

I didn’t consider it until the opportunity had long since passed, and so I came to resent myself-- at least a bit. I saw my own reflection and winced, walking quickly past. I avoided the crown I’d attained since having to leave the castle’s crown all that time ago. I was no longer a child-- no longer in tutored studies-- and now I was putting that knowledge to good use. I organized my troops and counteracted Eonis and his measures. I did not want to hurt anyone, but it was what was necessary. I wanted to believe it was necessary, and not due to my fault, but on some days that was easier than others.

I began to deeply regret the drive that had prompted me out of my home each day. I scolded myself for trying so hard to be what everyone wanted-- for trying to be better than my father, to be better than all those who were my peers. Perhaps I wanted to be perfect, and at the time I did not fault myself for it-- but what, now? What now, that I am completely without my own blood? I found myself lost and trapped in a dismal reality-- that the struggle for perfection had left me without anyone at all, except my soldiers and my crown. What point is there, in a life like that? So mechanical and impersonal is it that I thought myself mad.

I realized that I was vain and narcissistic-- self-absorbed-- before. I realized that perhaps had I done even one thing differently, all this bloodshed could’ve been avoided. I remembered Eonis’ kind voice and his soft smile-- I remembered what he was, or at least what I thought him to be. Sometimes I found myself reading transcripts of his battle speeches and thinking it wasn’t possible. I recalled him as something so dramatically different that the comparisons were surreal. Eonis was someone timid and good-natured, perhaps a bit shy, but gentle-- and this man, whose words of hate I read from time to time-- was the opposite. Bold, commanding and vehement-- he demanded respect and if he did not receive it, he’d take it by force.

It made me feel sick, reading them. It made me feel like a culprit for corrupting someone like him. I know there were factors aside-- things that must’ve contributed-- or perhaps I was wrong all along, and he never had been so pure at all-- but I had it in my mind that the warped nature of Eonis was a fault of mine.

- Aftermath -

I waited for so long. My brother's forces grew each day, as did mine. The heat of the war never faded, it simply seared and burnt away at anyone who got close. I sat my post in the castle we built and I stared out at the waking world. I watched things get progressively worse as the world truly sank into a state of chaos. I know it was a civil war and a petty one that that, but it didn't feel so small. It felt as though every city under the sun were warring within itself. As if you could go anywhere and find the same divide present there amongst those people. I felt the weight of the crown on my head-- not the true crown of my father, but the self-invented crown of light. It isn't the whole and it never will be. I know that as I stare longingly out the window of my castle-- out at the open wasteland where a humble metropolis should've been.

I waited so long in the confines of that castle, but the day did come. I spread my message as far as I could in the time I had-- I wanted to speak with my brother again. I was done fighting. Done contributing to the wreckage that had become my homeland. I swayed his troops with my words and though it took many moons, soon the day arrived. The organized day on which my brother's forces would turn against the very man who rallied them to war against me. I was not swollen with pride or elated on the notion-- rather I waited calmly. I tossed my crown aside and threw aside my cloak. I went in common clothes and I waited.


There was a middle-ground building, unremarkable in every way-- and they led him there. His forces insisted there was a meeting arranged by a particular general, however when he entered it was only myself present. He gazed into my golden eyes for a long moment before he made a move. He, as expected, made the first choice of trying to stab me. He was still clad in full, glistening silver armor-- and here I was, in humble garb. I sidestepped and embraced him. The hand he held the knife with trembled behind my head as I hugged my one and only brother.

"I'm sorry," I whispered with a shaking voice, "Irreparably sorry. I know I've wronged you beyond forgiveness, but there's no reason to involve the people any further. I want an end to this death and destruction, Eonis. Perhaps you cannot forgive me-- but please consider ending this bloody, awful war."

His hands shifted slowly and the knife fell from them... [ eonis' form tells the end of the tale as it happened ]

click for full size

- Peace -

Eonis was not a total pain. I say that as generously as possible. In the days we lived in the castle together I found him apprehensive and hard to cooperate with, however he did warm up to the idea... eventually. I can understand where he'd be skeptical. He's a bit harsh towards me, all the same, due to our bad blood I would imagine-- but at this point I am left to assume it is a sort of friendly heckling. We badger one another in that way, and I do certainly hope he knows I'm not being serious when I poke fun at him. He is my younger brother.

We are slowly growing to understand one another, I would say. He comes with me to events where I speak on behalf of the people or do service work as in my early days of preparing for the crown, and he follows me-- my shadow. He seems grudging to do these tasks but I insist to him that it is a part of being a king. Part of living by the crown is doing work and such for the people. To be a truly good king one must know what one's people want of him-- and to do that, one must socialize with his people. I enjoy the inhabitants of our kingdom. They are good-natured and caring towards one another and anyone else who treats them kindly. I have been working hard to bring peace to the kingdom again-- as the divide of sides has made it hard for the left to relax around the right.

During the war people dressed either in gold for the sun or in black for the moon-- but the new color that has been agreed upon is grey or silver. You can accent yourself however you would like, but our flag is gray-- a neutrality between the two of us, and the color of the shimmering night stars. It's a symbol of our newly established peace. Almost all great nations give themselves a new flag after hard times and harsh battles-- the donning of a new era is at hand, after all. Never before have there been two kings to a single castle.

Eonis enjoys fencing in the evenings. I am not out of practice, but I will give him the simple praise that he is good. We spar and fence as often as the time arises, because Eonis' combative nature can be used productively in these facets. I periodically encourage him to come to the study with me or take a day out on the market place to chat with the commonfolk, but he has a particular enjoyment for the heat of combat. I suppose some things never change. He still seems unsure of what to do with me, and that is understandable. I am unsure what to do with him as well. And so we spar.

We pass our days in the kingdom walking by eachother. Passing fleetingly in the halls. I see more of him now than I did before, and sometimes we chat for a short while before he disappears again. I feel as though he's a mist-- fleeting and subtle-- that must be noticed to be fully appreciated. Eonis is a mystery to me, but now he is one I seek to explore and understand. After all-- it is late, but better than never at all, that I finally try to be a proper brother.

May the kingdom of Orion flourish and may my brother find peace within himself as I hope to find within myself,

- Sinclair of Orion

Art -- by me -- [top of form]
by me -- [above personality]
by me -- [above story]
by me -- [above 'alone' section]
by me -- [above the art list]
by lucipher -- [above inauguration day]
sketch by chocolate -- [not shown]
by me -- [not shown] +
by me -- [the bottom]
- - - traditional doodles - - -
sinclair and eonis -- by me
sinclair the divine -- by me
humanized (?) sinclair -- by me