[winter wonderland.]

username:
hi there death clock. I'm currently a non-owner,
but I would love to have a chance to own beautiful
mako number one hundred. So, just sit back and
relax. I hope you enjoy my form and the effort
that was put into it. If you can, please listen
to this during the form.

makoatl name: Agheron

zodiac:
Agheron is an Aries.

birthday:
Agheron's birthday is April 19th

personality:

reserved

Agheron is extremely reserved, thanks to his past.
He is extremely antisocial and bipolar.

I must warn you, this story is not a happy one. I'm sure there are more happy stories on another mako's form. However, if you're fine with sadder stories laid with mystery, read on, reader. Read on.

It all started at the Ceremony of Becoming. Agheron, eight years old at the time, fiddled with the ornate neckpiece his parents had made for his ceremony. Looking ahead, he could see three mako's in the line. When they entered the plaza, each would drink from a special vial, to show them their future. Some felt nothing. Some went insane or mad, and some died instantly. Still other's fates were shown, and they were powerful and wise. Trumpets sounded, momentarily shaking him from his thoughts. A guard shuffled them into the plaza, as the first mako stepped forth to king Aleron.

[Rivkah]

they call him an
xxx xxx xxx . . .

x
x

name: Charos Alamar;

Charos being one of the Greek names meaning death and Alamar meaning "to the sea" in Spanish. Overall his name has the meaning of "death at the hand of the sea;" this name is a summary of his entire persona. [Khair-ohs Ah-lahm-ahr]

gender: male.
age: unknown; estimated to be an older Makoatl.
origin: believed to have come from Europe.

{ [ personality ☠ ] }

✴ seemingly empty

• Charos often makes the impression of being a hollow shell. Not surprising, in reality, for the two sides of his personality are weaving around him constantly in the form of spineless sea life. His personality tends to change depending on which is closer to him, but for the most part he acts distant, cold, and unattached.

✴ the dark side; malice

• This herder of souls has two sides of him, blatantly divided, with little room for shades of gray. The blue jellyfish, his negative half, harbors the fond name Malice from Char. When closer to him than its opposite, his mood tends to swing in the direction of bitterness, pessimism, and sharp attitude. He grows more sarcastic, more introverted and antisocial, and more likely to cause harm to someone, whether it be physically or emotionally. One must learn to stay far away from him when the blue invertebrae hovers close; this is the side that was influencing him when he caused a string of events leading to his death.

✴ the conscience; conch

• Conch; a variation of Consc, short for conscience. The brightly colored, intricate jelly is the side of him that feels guilt, remorse, and compassion. It tends to fight with Malice, trying to be the one to swim closer to his figure, wishing that he stay away from negative thoughts and feelings so as to avoid compromising situations where he gives into things such as greed, loathing, and envy. While no one but him can hear it, he describes it as being a light, musical whisper that often tries to convince him to go out of his way to be kind; even when not affected by Malice, he tends to shy away from this, harboring a rather introverted personality that prefers not to be bothered or to bother.

by pedunkle

{ [ history ☠ ] }

Charos' life started out average, consistent, and boring. From the day he was brought onto the earth he led a normal, structured life mostly influenced by the law. But he craved more; he craved adventure, surprise, and a break from uneventful work leading to a modest income. At this time, he had an equally dull, common name, but that name was long forgotten over the course of many years because of one event that altered his entire future.

This particularly ambitious Makoatl decided one day to act on the need for more of an exciting lifestyle. Having gotten in touch with a particularly wild crew of pirates with a vicious reputation, he decided this was the fast route to a new life and plenty of riches. He gave his new gang of buccaneers enough of an opportunity to seize the merchant ship he worked on, and they took advantage of this leverage gleefully. Sadly, he did not count on the survivors hunting him down for his crimes; he had forgotten that as long as a man is alive, he can be found. In a truly ironic symbolism, he was made to walk the plank by the men he had betrayed.

He was reborn by the goddess Calypso, and as punishment for his treachery, he was made to look after those who had died at sea and to ferry them to the Other Side. If he were to neglect in his duty, he would suffer pain, which would get worse the longer he hid from his work. He found this out the hard way, and because of that, he tends to reside by the coves were he can quickly greet any of those who were subjected to death at the ocean.

x

x

by The Last Raven

★ ★ ★ information ★ ★ ★

quirks:
xxx♦ He is a reclusive person who shies away from social interaction and tends to act aloof or indifferent to frighten off those prying.
xxx♦ When not influenced by his jellyfish, overall Charos tends to have a rather mysterious, olden attitude and demeanor, considering he has never adjusted to modern life. As a result, he has no idea how to use cars, electronics, or anything of the like. He's never needed to introduce himself to society.
xxx♦ Charos has a complicated relationship with the ocean; as he is tied to it and is still a Makoatl, he loves it, but even now that he is fixed, he does not trust the treachery of the waves or of sailors.

habits:
xxx♦ Than lives in a cove chain, dwelling around there and waiting to be alerted about those dead at see; he lives in an old abandoned, unknown house built into the underside of a cliff and hidden from view.
xxx♦ He usually carries some sort of walking stick to herd the dead souls, though it's purely a thing of sentiment and not actually useful.
xxx♦ Charos speaks in an olden, mixed European accent and uses seventeen-hundreds vocabulary.

orientation: thought to be asexual, though it's hard to tell, as he's such a recluse.

religion: none, since he's considered such a substantial folk tale.

issues: distrust and paranoia from his death, as well as sociopathy and a lack of willingness to open up to others.

strengths: assertive nature, experience, decisive actions, immortality, relationship with the dead [whom he is closest with].

weaknesses: easily influenced by his jellyfish, often vicious, too conflicting and moody, often becoming snappish or overly defensive.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________
⚜ x x x darling, let me tell you a x x x s t o r y x x x ⚜
_______________________________________________________________________________________________

The clear weather, harboring little clouds and bright sky, brought optimism to the crew while they worked steadily to set sail from port that morning. The trade ship had seen many a transaction and would unfortunately see no more, but this was not something the merchants had knowledge of. Among the crew was a figure that acted as if he was aiding them in their work when in actuality he was doing very little. Once the captain had declared their loading finished, he commanded they set sail, and the seemingly lazy male, who at the time was known at Theodore, helped to hoist the sails. The moment this ounce of work was complete, he perched on a barrel at the bow of the ship, the salty air rustling breezes through his shaggy fur. He was quiet, never responding to anything that was said unless it was an order, and most wondered why their normally reserved comrade was now completely withdrawn.

About ten minutes en route, the scout on the mast cried, “Captain, we've got pirates!” Indeed, a ship loomed in the near distance, dark and dreary, its mere sight an omen of death and destruction. In the micro-chaos of getting the ship ready, as merchant ships had to be armed for situations such as pirates, no one seemed to notice that their crew member at the bow was utterly unaffected by the fact that there was a group of marauders circling like sharks would do to a seal.

He stood so not to raise suspicion, but for the most part hurried back and forth with the illusion that he, too, was bracing for an attack. His face partially shadowed by the early morning light, expression passive, unlike those of his shipmates. One would recognize this, in a less chaotic situation, as expectancy. The look in his eyes was patient, pleasant, and they had a look of trying to stifle a smile.

He took arms like others did, but his rifle would seem to rather randomly malfunction, unable to have him aim properly, with all shots hitting the water. The small cannons were rolled out, but they were boarded before they could light them; the pirates had speed on their side. The turncoat's weapon dropped to his side as he held it loosely, watching as his crew was capture, one by one, and held at gunpoint. “Sailor!” barked the captain as he struggled against his captors. “What do you think you're doing?” As he spoke, the tall, lean male went and stood beside the leader of the sea gang, and the pirates' actions showed the stricken crew that this was planned.

“Traitor!” yelled some, “Pirate!” “Sea dog!” He said nothing, a small smile on his lips as he boarded the pirates' ship and received his reward. Some of the crew survived the assault from their captors. The captain was not one of them.

★ ★ ★

Two years after this vital moment in both the crew's history and the traitor that gave them up, the latter sat at a pirate port, drinking from a bottle of rum and counting his share of the money they had recently pillaged. His life had been far more leisurely yet exciting since he had become wanted under the eyes of the law, and often he would reflect on how foolish he was not to seek out this more pleasant lifestyle sooner. He watched from his spot at the edge of the bar as a ship without colors pulled into the dock. This was not uncommon; if a pirate came back from a strategy act, they would not have been announcing their presence to the people they had been swindling.

He watched the small crew, just five lone people heading toward the festive evening he was currently taking part in, though idly. They would stop to talk to a person every once in a while, for what seemed to be bartering or directions. When one of their directors pointed a hand toward him, however, his green eyes focused on the shadowed faces and a flicker of realization wove through his irises. He stood, pocketing his sums, and and made a rather subtle move for the back exit. He was caught just as he stepped out the door, one of the crew muttering in his ear, “Not so fast, you turncoat.”

He was dragged back to the unidentified ship by the merchants he had wronged many months ago, bound against the mast until they had found a substantially deep part of the ocean, right above a trench too treacherous to cross during a storm, even for experienced sailors. Knowing that no amount of charm nor conning could get him out of this, he struggled very little as they pulled him up to the edge of the boat, hoisting a plank up for him to stand on in a surprisingly pirate-like manner. Perhaps that was the irony of his death, then; having him killed in the way that the people he sold them to would use.

He looked down at the dark, murky waters, and without a ceremony nor a call of last words, they cut the plank loose. Hands, tail, and legs tied, he sank in the water; and after the longest time he could have held his breath, the water surrounding him filled his lungs and choked any thoughts in his mind to a halt.

★ ★ ★

When the traitor awoke, he wondered vaguely where he was, if his death was a mere dream or if this was some form of a crude afterlife.

“Greetings,” an eerie voice sounded in front of him, and he raised his head. He was still bound in the manner he had died, yet a strangely empty feeling swept over him as he noticed two jellyfish circling him in mid-air. Was he on land, in air, or in water? He supposed this had to be some sort of hell, because it felt like none of those choices.

“You may not recognize me,” the musical tone called out again from ahead of him. A beautiful woman stood, clothed in what seemed to be the sea, with white ruffles like foam and silken waves of dress around her legs. He could not tell if she was Makoatl or human; her skin was a glowing silver, her hair seeming to be made of water as well. “I am the goddess Calypso. All matters of the sea are mine, however Makoatl or man pretends otherwise. You have broken trust, and you have died for it. Died in my domain. And so, you are under my control.”

The woman circled him, more widely than the jellyfish, which were hovering uncomfortably close to his face. “Oh, they won't hurt you,” she assured. “But they will speak. They will always speak. That is your soul, traitor, in two pieces. Your conscience,” she indicated to the peach invertebrate, “and every malicious and immoral thought you have had and could possibly have.” Her hand moved to gesture to the light blue creature, which seemed to send an aura of hate and bitterness toward him as it came closer.

“Truth is, Makoatl, I am not young,” she mused. “Though I may seem like it. I have too many duties. And I don't wish to waste too much time on contemplating your punishment. So, I am giving you a job – one you will never hope to escape from, so there is no use running. You will be the ferrymen of my dead, those who have died at sea... just as you have. You will use your soul halves to fairly decide their fate, and I will watch over your work to make sure you are not abusing this task. And you will take a name I will give you; whatever they called you in life, you shall be no longer.”

She reached out, and he felt an unsuppressed, icy chill as she touched his face. “Charos Alamar,” she said quietly, “that is your name. Accept your duty. There is no choice.” In a rush of wind, the now-named Charos was no longer bound, nor in such a spacy realm, but washed up upon a beach; seaweed and pearls in his antlers, and the jellyfish circling him as a constant, unceasing reminder.

He had a job to do; it was his task for the rest of eternity.

art: judgement time by me.

[ElementStar]

Definite reserve ;3;

[NizoLuv]

i totally shouldnt be doing this....
but
damn it

Reserve <3

username: NizoLuv
makoatl name: Leviathan "Twisted; coiled"
personality:
History:

'His back is made of rows of shields,
Shut up closely as with a seal...
His sneezings flash forth light,
And his eyes are like the eyelids of the dawn.
Out of the mouth go flaming torches;
Sparks of fire leap forth...
In his neck abides strength,
And terror dances before him.
Book of Job
"In that day the Lord will punish,
With His great, cruel, mighty sword
Leviathan the Elusive Serpent--
Leviathan the Twisting Serpent;
He will slay the Dragon of the sea."-Isaiah 27:1

"Canst thou draw out leviathan with an hook?
or his tongue with a cord which thou lettest down?"
-Job 41:1

[FoxerOwl]

Possible reserve vuv

[starry--knight]

username:
Hey death clock, I'm starry-knight but you
can call me starry or knight If you prefer.

makoatl name:
My name is Lucient, it hails from Greek decent and has been given the meaning "light". I can tell you honestly this meaning shows nothing of my inner self, or a quality I wish to possess. I am not the light nor will I ever be; I am the dark. But I will tell you why I chose this name for myself; because I quite enjoy a bit of Irony. It is both funny and cruel- my name is a prime example.

personality:

Cold - Hot Headed - Merciless - Fickle - Selfish - Bitter

Say what you will about me, it makes no difference for I am a dark creature; my kingdom sits on an icy tundra where the cold mercilessly takes lives. I have no smypathy or love for living things save for my two faithful companions. I am a bitter man, ruthless and hot-headed. I do not tolerate stupidity or recklessness from the young. I hate anything that breaths and quite honestly their only purpose is to die.

Perhaps with the right incentive I may pretend to care for someone else, but we both know my feelings are as fickle as the wind and will bypass you without a care. Love interests me not; nor does a mate. I quite enjoy my solitude and I plan to keep it that way. Get the picture? My only want in life is personal gain; selfish? Yes, I am. But, the only people who truly deserve to be selfish is me, myself and I.

History:
I was born in the cold; in a place where life teetered on the edge of extinction. Snow fell constantly, burying the living in frozen tombs in the night. Ice floors separated you from a watery grave. Here in the deep south, at the very edge of the world sat my home. The only other person I had with me at the time was my mother who was too old to care for me or even herself. Times were rough, and it was not long before she too was swallowed up by the very lands we dwelled.

At 1 year I was alone. But it bothered me not. This winter wonderland was now mine; I was the king of this vast open land and the sea that sat beneath. So like any king, I needed a crown. And after much searching and collecting, I came upon the perfect materials to construct one with. Proudly I sat at the edge of the water, looking at my reflection with my crown of seaweed and pearls and grinned from ear to ear. There was no king greater than I.

I spent the next five years alone, swimming in my private sea for something to do. Loneliness was beginning to set in, but in many ways I was still content on just being by myself. After all, who's company is greater than mine? But as I swam I came across a rare sight. A smack (smack is a group of jellyfish) of jellyfish drifting by. Their presence caught me off guard, but their beauty more so. Two drifted off in my direction and swam around me. Even after their smack had left, here they were still, swimming between my legs, around my horns without a care. If they could speak they would have called me friend. . .

From that moment on I was no longer alone; but I had all the company I desired. The two Jellyfish were more than enough to sustain my need of companionship. But, soon more strange creatures began flocking towards my waters. Eating my food, breathing my air! I was quick to decide that I hated them all. Everything that breathed, everything that moved.... they were are worthless, pointless creatures who needed to be eradicated.

[obiole]

-sorry, dropping xc -

[•mochiimomo•]

Congrats to the winner.
You are not permitted to use any of the art that was present on my form.

[Alva.]

username: UkuleleFox
makoatl name:Possibly Kodiak?

Pink Jellyfish: Ventilabis (push) || Blue Jellyfish: Congrega (pull)

personality:
History:

[Clara Erassari]

Click here for a website version of this form.

◤------------------------------------------------------◥
тιcĸ тocĸ goeѕ тнe clocĸ.

тιcĸ, тocĸ. тιcĸ, тocĸ.
тιcĸ, тocĸ...
◣------------------------------------------------------◢





нow wιll тнιѕ ѕтory play oυт?



only тιмe wιll тell...

Nicknames;; Keeper of Time, Chronicler occasionally
Archie.
Age;; Unknown, although judging by horn density and
size, about 200.
Birthday;; October 25th.
Signs;; Scorpio ♏ ; Dog 戌
Sexuality;; Unknown, although appears to be asexual.
Accent;; Scottish.

Size;; Tall and a bit gangly; thin.
Fur;; Scraggly and course, a layer of dust coating it.
Layered red-brown.
Tail;; Grey and white.
Eyes;; A mossy green.
Horns;; Antler-styled; 8 points.
Accessories;; Seaweed and pearls hanging from the
horns. Nose ring.

U S E R N A M E ; ;

Hey, death clock, I'm Clara Oswin Oswald, but feel free to simply call me Clara. I seem to have some kind of fascination with jellyfish-themed adopts. I'm not all that widely known in the Mako community, but you may have seen me around a bit as I try out for a few others, as well as make posts on the FC about art I have gotten. ^^" I drifted over here from the Kiamara community. I hope you enjoy my form! <3

N A M E ; ;

Keeper of Time, Chronicler, Shaman... Many names that have hung to him since times long forgotten. The Ancient One of the Sea tells the stories of lives long since passed.
Keeper of Dreams, Keeper of the Light...
He tells the stories of war, warnings to the younger generations to beware; don't make the same mistakes your ancestors did. Be cautious, for history tends to repeat itself.
He is...
Archaias.

N A M E . M E A N I N G ; ;

The meaning behind Archaias is incredibly simple... It's Greek for Ancient One. I'm not entirely sure why I chose the name, aside from the fact that this Mako seems to be one who tells the stories of old, much like a Shaman would. Someone who watched the years go by and witness the turn of the world.
So, a simple name with a powerful meaning that reflects who he is.

Ah, Archaias' history... It took me awhile to come up with a way to portray what I wanted, and to show how he grew... So I decided to show fragments; flashbacks in the style of stories told by him. The first section is title "The Beginning" and tells the origin of his home, and a couple of his namesakes. The second portion, titled "To protect is to serve" will be about one of the first Makos he helped. The third part is called "Twin lights in the dark", and is about how he met his jellyfish companions.

Mossy green eyes shone from the depths of a cave near an ocean; a rustling sounded as they shifted position and the form stepped into the light. Pale brown fur, scraggly and unkept, followed by a slim grey tail. He shook his large head, the seaweed moving in a strange dance from his antlers.
"I be Archaias," growled a deep voice that sounded from the brown Mako's chest. "'ave ye come tae 'ear thee bairns of ould?"
Coming fully out of the cave, the large form settled down on the sandy floor. Closing his eyes halfway, he continued to speak;
"Then ye 'ave come tae thee right place. I be considered the Teller of Tales; a Shaman in mah own right. Now, sit ye down an' listen well, laddies..."

Oily black things slithered in the deepest of shadows, skittering as a mouse would, however proved to be much more of a threat. They latched onto any with any negativity in their hearts, whether it be from jealousy, greed, or anger; they fed from any who did not watch how they felt towards others. Over time... These dark beings began to grow in strength; they caused war to break out across the land time and time again...
People would fight with one another for no reason besides the fact that the other was an inconvenience. They didn't trust each other, and everyone was petty about everything.
They didn't help each other.
They stuck to their own without a care about anyone else.
As time went by, things began to grow harsher... Once green fields became deserts, oceans dried up... Everything became a baren wasteland. Darkness reigned. Fire scorched the land black and despair hung heavy on the air.

A young Makoatl stared wide-eyed at the yawning darkness before him... His fur was a dusty brown, scraggly from travel; his eyes were a bright green, and horns were just beginning to sprout from his head.
"Don't be frightened," wheezed a stone-like figure beside him; the Shaman from his Tribe. "You will take over my role, and you will lead this world back to the Light. You will make sure others know that Darkness and Destruction awaits those with black hearts... You know the signs, child. Now come."
The old grey female started towards the cave, limping slightly, her shoulders hunched from age.
"B-but... Marm... I donnae understan'. I am just a wee bab," mumbled the child, although he followed after the old lady anyway, keeping close to her side.
"Child, the Great Spirits say that you are to take over my role... You will be the next Chronicler. You will tell the tales of our people to future generations for many years to come."
Light was ahead of them now, and the child had to squint his eyes against the harshness of it. The tunnel began to get wider; upon entering the heart of the cave, he saw that the source of the light was a giant crystal in the center. Around it, on the floor and stacked on ledges, were books with strange glyphs and markings etched onto their bindings and covers.
Blinking, the child realized that the Old One had moved to a raised stone just before the crystal.
"Come," she commanded.
Hesitantly, he obeyed, stopping before her.
"From here on out, you are the Chronicler," she said, power tainting her voice and growing stronger with each word. "You are the Ancient One who will watch over us all. Remember this, and guide our people to the Light. Don't let them stray; don't let the land fall back into Darkness. Protect the weak, and mend the broken. Remember this, Archaias, and you will serve everyone well. You are our Protector; our Guardian. Remember..."
As she had neared the end of her speech, the former Shaman began to fade into starlight before vanishing completely. The crystal dimmed, leaving Archaias alone.
Blinking slowly, he padded around the stone dais and stepped up onto it, laying down, and settling into his new role...

"Everyone knows the sayin' "stand up for what is right, even if ye are standin' alone"", Archaias rumbled, shifting positions. His eyes drooped slightly, as if he might fall asleep, but a few moments later he spoke again. "This lesson was one of the very first that I learned."

Wind howled, blowing even the strongest and oldest of trees down. The waves crashed against the shore, drenching the brown form that strolled along it. As the water did so, it tangled more seaweed into the Makoatl's horns.
Archaias huffed, shaking his head to dislodge the excess weight. He may have liked to wear some seaweed hanging from his horns (he believed it helped to make him look a little tougher and older), but anything more than that was simply an annoyance. Continuing his trudge through the sand, he shook himself after being doused with yet another wave. He didn't know why he was out here on the beach with this terrible weather, but he did know that there was something important he had to do. Grumbling, he side-stepped a piece of driftwood; then he saw her. A gray and pink form unconscious on the sand.
Without pausing to think, Archaias rushed to the other Mako's side, and took her with him back to his cave...

When the girl awoke, Archaias was watching her from his nest of feathers and grass.
"Et's good te see ye awake, lassie," he rumbled, sitting up to get a better look at her. "Ooch, ye were in a mighty state when I found ye, ye were."
The female blinked her lavender eyes, confusion clouding in them; however, before she could voice her concern, Archaias was providing an answer.
"Ye washed up on my shore, lassie. I brought ye here tae mend ye. Now, what be yer name?"
Hesitantly, the girl answered, her voice catching in her dry throat.
"N-naka..."
She seemed intimidated by the rather large male, but she felt that she could also trust him.
"Well then, Naka, ye best rest 'ere awhile. Ye will not be able tae travel for some time. Ye can head home once ye have healed..."
Laying back down, Archaias closed his mossy green eyes, and Naka did the same.

Even once the pair awoke, Archaias spoke very little to the female... He didn't know how he should view her, or even how to react. So, he simply ignored her as much as possible. Naka didn't seem to mind, and he quickly had her on the mend. When she was healed, he sent her away, although she has taken to visiting him every so often; her savior.

** Naka; used with permission of Shaymins. **

Eos - Titan Goddess of the Dawn in Greek mythology. She would rise at the edge of her home, Oceanus, to bring forth the early morning light. This is the name of the pink jellyfish.
Selene - Titan/Greek Goddess of the Moon. She is the moon personified, and is sister to Eos, Goddess of the Dawn, and Helios, God of the Sun. This is the name of the blue jellyfish.

~~~~~

"So ye be 'ere to hear aboot 'ow I came tae find mae friends... These twin jellies, Eos an' Selene, are friends I 'ave 'ad for many years nao... They 'ave'nae been with me since thee beginnin', though."
At the mention of their names, the twin girls drifted lazily around Archaias' horns, causing the pearl strands and dangling seaweed to move in their wake.
"Nao, this story takes place 'afore I became thee Chronicler... A while after I lost mae parents, however, even if I never really cared tae 'ave lost them."

Storm clouds brewed on the horizon, the sky darkening with their anger. A young Makoatl patrolled the beach; tiny horns sprouted from his head, a strand of pearls hanging from each, with a bit of seaweed snagged with the string. He moved, pawing at the seaweed in annoyance, screwing is face up in disgust.
"Slimy tendrils..." he growled angrily, still trying to dislodge the wet vegetation. Eventually, Archaias abandoned the attempt, instead flicking his ears as the first drops of rain began to fall. He rose to his paws, lifting his head to the sky, as he reveled in the feeling of the cool moisture. A peel of thunder split the air, followed by a strike of lightning. He laughed, shaking his head free of water, only for it to become drenched again within a few moments.
He snorted, swishing his tail across the damp sand. and proceeded to travel along the beach; water lapped at his paws, rising up to his chest fur. This made him grumble, but he made no attempt to avoid the crashing waves.
Thunder boomed again, the rain plastering his fur to his sturdy frame; clouds rolled in, the only source of light coming from the lightning, always following the thunder. Twitching an ear, he spotted lights ahead... They weren't yellow or white, like the lightning. No, this light was steady and gentle, although it was flickering.
Interested, Archaias followed the strange source, a mixture of pink, blue, and purple... And upon closer inspection, he found two small jellyfish, one pink and one blue, no larger than his fore paw. He frowned, not sure how he could help such frail creatures... Although decided to give it a go anyway.
Thus, he gathered a large leaf and scooped the pair up, holding them awkwardly while trying to shelter them from the wind.
"Ach... I dinnae expec' this, nao..." Archaias grumbled, as per usual.

Hobbling awkwardly, the young Makoatl proceeded towards his small den, releasing them into a pool of water. Almost instantly the blue jelly started moving about, while the pink one simply lazed in the gentle current within the pool.
"Well nao, aren' ye two a right fine pair, eh?" he chuckled, settling down to watch them. He rested his head on his paws, dipping a toe into the water tentatively. "Ye remin' me of the sun an' moon... I thin' I may call ye Selene an' Eos, for Moon an' Dawn."
The pair seemed satisfied with this, drifting about in their little pool...

P E R S O N A L I T Y ; ;

Hoarder | Wise | Stubborn | Kind | Grumpy

Hoarder;;
Archaias is a hoarder of many things... Although the items he holds most dear would be books and clocks. Clocks because he has an obsessive fascination with their sound, and loves to sit and listen to time tick away. Books because knowledge is power... And with more knowledge at his disposal, he can rest at ease that he is doing his job right.

Wise;;
Despite his strange habit of hoarder, one half of his obsession is a good thing. Because of his hoarding of books, he is able to do his assigned job better. He is the Chronicler; he watches the world turn, and records what he sees within the multitude of books he owns... He writes new chapters, and revises the old. He has read and heard and seen many things, and this knowledge helps him to prepare the future generation.

Stubborn;;
Archaias is a... bit like a mule. It's difficult to get him to do something he doesn't want to, or something he thinks is rather pointless. He'd rather stick to the old ways and do what he knows, rather than to adapt to the times as he knows he should. He does what he trusts, and what he knows has worked for years.

Kind;;
Archaias was always taught that to kill with kindness was a good thing, even if it was a bit redundant. He prefers to not leave his cave, but when he does... He is a friend to all who cross his path; whether it be an overturned turtle, an injured bird, or simply a creature that has lost it's way... Archaias is there to help.

Grumpy;;
Despite his natural (or sometimes forced) kind nature, he tends to be a bit of a grouch. He doesn't think very highly of himself, and hence is often found sulking in his caves. When in a sour mood, he's snappy, always preferring to send others away rather than actually open up and admit that a listening ear would be nice and helpful.

H O B B I E S . - . O B S E S S I O N S ; ;

"Keeper of Time" ; a Clock Hoarder :: Archaias' first hobby is more of an obsession, really... He has an acute fascination with all kinds of clocks, hence his nickname "Keeper of Time". The spaces on the ledges in his cave that aren't occupied by books, are filled with clocks; fob watches, perpetual motion clocks, and even a Cox timepiece. He loves the sounds of the constant tick tock that fills his cavern.

"Chronicler" ; a Recorder :: As the name implies, Archaias records the history of the world; even if he doesn't particularly enjoy this hobby. He learns of the current events from the life around him, and records it for future generations to know and understand of times long since passed; he hopes that the information will help to guide them.

"Shaman" ; a Healer and Whisperer:: Calling him a Shaman is both correct and incorrect, as there are many different varieties. He is not a Shaman in the sense of magic (although he can do some simple spells), but he is a Healer. He uses herbs and mixed potions to help other creatures be on the mend. He can also speak to and understand a variety of creatures, from his jellyfish to the birds to the mammals on the shore. Spell-wise, he can do very little; mainly craft charms for good luck and fortune, or a stone to light the way.

L i k e s ; ;

✔ Nature and the ocean.
✔ Books and clocks.
✔ Being alone.
✔ His jellyfish friends.
✔ Rain and thunderstorms.

D i s l i k e s ; ;

✘ Others messing with his clocks.
✘ Others in general.
✘ Harsh sunlight.
✘ Hoomans.
✘ Technology.

I'm sure many people will be doing this, but I thought that I should share what I did have planned for this wonderful Mako...

-> He will hold a special place in my heart, alongside all of my characters.
-> I will share him and be active in the community to the best of my ability.
-> I will, of course, RP with him.
-> I will not simply mate him off to the first female (or male) he meets... That's just not right, and not fair to you or to this stunning boy; in my eyes, he may not ever get a mate, as he seems the type of Mako to live alone in the shadows and lurk.
-> I will RP with him as much as I can and with many other people.

I, Clara Oswin Oswald, promise to be active with him in the Fanclub, as well as on the Fanforum if I am able. I will always take good care of him, and hold him dear to my heart.