Re: Staff Kiamara - Baloo.

Postby Golden.AUO » Mon Dec 01, 2014 12:45 pm

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    Username: Bloodscythe
    Name: Scratch
    Gender: Male
    Age Range: Young Adult
    Current Residence: Studio Apartment in Arizona


    Your Eyes?:

    Scratch Keeps his eyes shut for most of day; only opening them when he is alone in his apartment or around close friends. Out in Public he keeps them hidden away and uses his other senses to guide him through the town. He used to use a guide cane, but he couldn't get used to it.
    But why does he chose to keep his eyes closed in public?
    Simply because his eyes scare and intimidate other people. He hate his eyes for this reason. Because they are fully black, they are often associated with the concept of demon possession. Though you would think that this one reason alone wouldn't be enough to keep them closed around others forever, it is for Scratch as his parents even bothered over his eyes. He went through many rigorous torments in his youth over the fact that he had 'devil's eyes'. His parents even named him with a folk name for the devil. Even though he took the first chance he could to leave his parent's house, people outside of those walls were even less forgiving. Even if they didn't associate anything demonic with them, they were still unnerved by his gaze.


    xxxxxxxxxxxxx
    Likes:
    -Sincere Company
    -Mystery Novels
    -Alternative
    -Thai cuisine

    Dislikes:
    -Bland food
    -Boats
    -Historical Fiction
    -Trouble
    xxxxxxxxxxxxx
    xxxxxxxxxxxxx
    Occupation:
    Bartender - Night

    Hobbies:
    -Reading
    -Casual Writing
    -Mixology
    -TV Shows
    xxxxxxxxxxxxx
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    Personality:
    It can be hard living such a precarious life. Scratch's high anxiety over his eyes scaring others keep him on alert. Stepping on eggshells to make sure everyone else was comfortable with his presence. Though his parents hadn't truly nurtured him, his social skills waned quickly. He is very soft spoken with very little confidence in himself. Conflict is something he would rather avoid, and can sometimes pull enough confidence out to defend himself; although he falters quite easily under pressure. While he tries to avoid revealing his eyes to others he can be clumsy and accidentally open them without noticing. Compliments can go right over his head or even catch him off guard as he is used to being shunned by just about anyone. Trying to make friends leaves him in a constant state of questioning; whether they actually like him or are using him or if he isn't acting right or if he's scaring them away. Because of this worrying Scratch hasn't tried to find someone to be romantically involved with. He is always afraid they will just leave him in the end.



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    Something Unexpected Happens:

    "Don't tell me, I've got just the thing to satisfy your palate." The proud smile that spread across his face was just the right mount of friendly, but he could sense that his customer was a little weary of him still. As he turned his back to get their sample, he opened his eyes to a squint to get a better look at his choices. Working at the bar wasn't Scratch's favorite thing in the world, but it paid the bills and it was one of his jobs that asked less questions about him. He put together a nice plate of fried goods and poured a darker beverage for the young man that was waiting at the counter for him. Closing his eyes once more, he served the food to the customer without much fuss. "Just let me know if you want anything else." With that Scratch moved back against the drink rack, picking up a rag and a dirty glass to clean.
    The night was slow, and his shift just couldn't end fast enough at this point. He wanted to go home, be away from the scrutiny of these people. Then a loud thunk brought his attention back to his job. It sounded like someone was in a bad mood, or that was just how they held themselves. Scratch put his glass away and leaned onto the counter in front of his new customer, "What can I get you? We've got a speci-" He was cut-off mid speech by a gruffer voice.
    "Shut yer yap. I just want that sandwich you guys are famous for. I don't feel like wasting more time than I need in this dump." This voice was rugged, a bit of a hard to place accent, but definitely male. A pretty rude male to be exact, but that was just how the late night crowd usually went anyways.
    "Alright, sir, I'll get you our reuben supreme. Would you like fries or chips?"
    "Whatever you feel like shoving on there, I've got a deadline, buddy."
    "Alright..." Man, this guy, the default was fries though, so he hoped the customer liked those. He really didn't want to deal with him. Quickly, he made up the sandwich and pulled some fries, checking to make sure everything looked nice before serving it. "There you go, Reuben supreme with fries. Just tell me if you'd like anything else."
    "Yea, whatever, Nice eyes, by the way."
    Scratch's smile fell to a grimace, did he forget to hide his eyes again? He usually didn't notice since he could usually visualize just fine in his head, and he hadn't even looked up at the customer when he served him. "Dang it..." He thought, trying to think of a response to this strange compliment. Usually people got nervous around him, or mentioned it with utter fascination or unease, but not this time. This stranger mentioned nonchalantly, like it wasn't unusual.
    "Thanks... I think." He hesitantly accepted the compliment as nothing more than small talk. This guy did say he had a deadline, so it was possible he was just passing time.

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    "Name's Sidewinder. I'm waiting for some idiot in a suit to show up so I can collect my money and get on to the next town. So, don't be surprised that things get messy soon." Again with that matter-of-fact tone. What did he mean by 'messy soon'? He was just collecting money, so why would there be trouble.
    "Ah, Uh, couldn't you avoid destroying the bar? I can't lose this job... You're just collecting money."
    "Heh, guess you don't get much trouble 'round here then. I'm sorry 'bout this then, but I might be collectin', but they don't want me to have it." Sidewinder laughed and winked at Scratch, "I suppose you haven't gotten a taste of the underworld in here yet." What was he supposed to say to that? He could hit the panic button, but there wasn't a threat yet except this rogue's word. Besides, this seemed like some high-profile crime, and this man was just flaunting the fact that he was going to steal from some crime ring or something like that like it was no big deal. What if this made Scratch an accomplice, and now he was placed on a hit list just knowing this.
    "No... I... I haven't you're right. Totally innocent of such things." This conversation was getting awkward fast, and there was just no way out of it. His other customer had already left, and the few patrons still hanging about where near gone to care about the scene being caused at the bar.
    "Now, it's common courtesy to introduce yourself. And I know for a fact that demons aren't exempt from that." A mischievous smile had spread on his lips, making Scratch feel uncomfortable.
    "Scratch... And I don't understand what you mean by that."
    "Ha, that's a good thing then, I suppose. Ya know, Scratch, you're not bad company. I might have to visit this bar more often, so don't get yourself fired or quit." his smile got wider as he added, "I promise I won't bring trouble next time."
    "You... You better not cause trouble now! I could kick you out." The nerve, saying he should come back after talking about bringing trouble with him. Scratch should issue a restraining order for this wretched man, that way he didn't have to put up with it. But it has only been one offense that hadn't quite happened yet, so maybe giving him a second chance wouldn't be so bad.
    His heart sank, however, as a man walked through the front door with a briefcase and dressed in something a bit more formal than the usual customer's attire. That must be the trouble that was mentioned earlier, but this Sidewinder wasn't even paying attention to him. His eyes didn't even move from Scratch's face as the newcomer sat next to him. "So, what can I get you, Sir?"
    "Just water." The reply was simple, nothing to suggest that he could be suspicious at all. But he wouldn't look up, not even to look around the room, just staring at the briefcase in front of him. Scratch watched the two strange men as he prepared a simple glass of water. No eye movement, not a word, just pure body language between the two and the eerie sense of killing intent coming from Sidewinder.

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    Some History:

    They thought they could get used to it. Their son's eyes weren't the colorful jewels that either of them had. Instead pure black eyes perched behind his lids. The doctors said that it was possibly temporary and gave them eye drops that may be of some help.
    The eye drops didn't have any effect on the child's eyes much to his parent's dismay. Now came the praying, hoping that this birth defect would be cured by the hands of god. Even though their child could see just fine, even better than they could have hoped, they couldn't live with the fact that their child was marred in such a way. He had eyes touched by the devil. They tried everything they could think of all the way into his teenage years.
    -------

    Into Scratch's teenage years he tried to separate himself from his parents. Though the prior years had no positive effects on him. He often wished he had been born without his eyes, almost preferring to have them taken from him then keep living with them. But with the few childhood friends he gained, he found that he really did like his eyes. they were unique, and sometimes scared the daylights out of people, but he liked how they completed him. Of course his parent's religious rantings and sometimes extreme measures to 'cure' him scared him more. And turned him away from religion as a whole; though the mythology intrigued him to no end.
    It became a personal goal to escape his parent's house. The atmosphere they kept within wasn't healthy for him, and he worried constantly about his personal growth while he lived there. He took jobs as soon as he could, and even helped out where he could so that he could make connections. He put up with it until he was around seventeen before he finally had enough money saved up to move out; along with a good network of friends to help him. He knew eventually he would have had to move out, but he still felt anxious about moving out so young. His parents supported him, even if they felt some relief to have their 'unique' child out of their home. Scratch found an affordable apartment, through one of his many connections, that he rented with a couple of his friends.
    It was cozy being able to be himself around people who cared about him, but that soon ended as everyone went their separate ways. It took Scratch a couple of weeks to gather himself and move out on his own. He didn't want to stay in his hometown though, instead he hopped a few buses to get as far away as he could, which landed him in Arizona. He didn't feel wonder or excitement as he looked for a place to lay his head. He felt scared, anxious, and alone as he went about making a new path in his life. The dirty looks and sideways glances that were thrown his way made him wary as he made his home in a nicer studio apartment. He had to get used to the fact that this little nest was housing only him, especially when he sat in silence for the first couple of weeks. It took a good while before the place felt homier for him. He hadn't had any luck with many of the jobs he applied for until he found a wanted ad on the door of a bar. Right after he called to check into his application he got an interview, and was set to start next day. He thought they were just desperate for bartenders that they just settled for him.

    Relationships:


    Parents?:

    Though Scratch keeps some contact with his parents, he really doesn't feel close to them at all any more. After he figured out the mistreatment that he was going through because of their beliefs he distanced himself from them. He still loves them dearly, but he wouldn't jump at the chance to go visit them.

    Friends?:


    The old:
    Before his move to Arizona he had a small group of friends that he lived with.
    He still calls them up here and there to see how they are doing.

    The new:
    It's been a rough move, and he hasn't really tried to make any new friends. He still offends and scares people with his eyes around town, which lessens his want to actually leave his apartment. The only person he kind of calls his friend is Sidewinder, who regularly comes into the bar after getting Scratch into some personal trouble a while back. He's a nice change of scenery from the dirty looks that Scratch usually gets. Though going on short trips with Sidewinder can relieve some of his stress, it can also bring a lot of stress to him as he has been associated as Sidewinder's 'partner in crime'. It's not a title he really likes.

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    You Again:

    "You!" The dark figure before Scratch was hard to forget. His stomach flopped uneasily as he fumbled with the key to the bar.
    "Hey! Didja miss me?" A cheeky grin was plastered onto his face. There was no doubt that he remembered the last time too.
    "No! I want you to... to leave this premises now." His mind was frantic, searching for the quickest route out of this. Why did that rat come back? It wasn't like they were on any type of good terms, not even friends. Hell, he trashed the bar last time, and left Scratch with an unconscious, bleeding man to tend to. He didn't have a right to return for any reason.
    "Aw, c'mon... Us demons hafta stick together, right?" the grin waned to a half-hearted smile, but his eyes still shone with mischief. Even mentioning the whole demon thing didn't help convince him.
    "That doesn't even help your case. Leave." How thick was this guy, it wasn't like he could make his disgust any clearer. Maybe it was a good time to walk away before the lunatic got any ideas. Turning quickly to head back home, Scratch took swift steps away from his unpleasant acquaintance. His heart wanted to actually get to know this mysterious Sidewinder, but his mind nagged at him to stay out of trouble. A sudden pressure on his arm stopped him, and the familiar snap alerted his brain to pump adrenaline into his body.
    "C'mon, make this easier on me. You don't hafta like me, but I'm repayin' ya for the trouble I caused last time." Sidewinder's other hand hovered above one of his prized pistols. It was clear the man was going to use force if necessary, "I'd hate to hafta use violence an' all." There wasn't much of a choice after all. Scratch knew he couldn't possibly out run a bullet, nor had the reflexes or fighting skill to defend himself. Giving up was the safest option at this point for him.
    This kidnapping was mediocre to him; who had ever heard of being forced to ride on their captor's motorcycle? The thought occurred to him that he could probably just jump from the bike, but he didn't underestimate his captor's ability with his guns. Even once they were speeding off to their secret destination he thought about it. Scratch's mind reminded him that jumping off into traffic would be the last thing he should do, and even then this bike was going much faster than the speed limit, which would have probably bought him a ticket to the ER if he jumped. He just had to go with it until somehow he could escape this lunatic.
    It hadn't been long until they pulled up to some ratty looking building on the outskirts of town. what an original hideout... Scratch grumbled in his head while Sidewinder helped him off. This was the last thing he was trying to get himself into in this life. He just wanted to go about in the most unassuming manner possible, but now here he was, being kidnapped for who knows what by some leather clad rogue.
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    "Now, keep quiet and just follow..." the gruff command didn't need to be repeated, but Scratch had half a mind to try to escape anyways. The place didn't seem heavily guarded, as far as he could see there was no one else but Sidewinder and him here.
    "Ok, what's the joke?" Scratch grumbled,, feeling the original orders were now bogus.. A pointed look from Sidewinder barely made the blow it should have for him. Unfortunately the answer came as a shove into a small room off the main hallway. Gruff protests didn''t stop the door from slamming shut and the sounds of a lock clicking into place put a pit of dread into Scratch's stomach. "Hey, This isn't funny!"
    "Just stay here, I've got some business to take care of before I let ya out of there." The muffled response didn't sit well with him. It just posed more questions than answers. As the sound of boots faded away, Scratch picked himself up to look around his small cell. There wasn't any source of light in the room, but studying the shadowy shapes of the room gave a sense that he was in a small guestroom. A small, partially collapsed window didn't provide any sense of time as he sat there, waiting for something to happen. It may have been hours before a loud crack made him jolt from his seat. The door swung open to reveal an unfamiliar face, blindly grasping into the darkness. Scratch pressed himself against the farthest wall, pulling some unknown object from the shadows to protect himself. The newcomer stumbled into the room, spitting curses into the darkness as he searched for its only occupant.
    "Ya know... You'd do better if ya had a lantern." A familiar voice called from the main hall after the stumbling figure. A clear click made the man turn towards the door with an audible laugh.
    "Oh, ya, I left that back with the others. I only see a gun in your hands, so I can't borrow yours." a chuckle escaped his lips as he stared down his aggressor.
    "Well, then you should leave. What are you even looking for?" A gesture out of the room with the gun brought the fellow out of the dark room. A silent sigh of relief came from Scratch as the man backed out. His nerves were starting to wear thin from this whole encounter, and he was sure that they would snap if it didn't end soon.
    "And what do you care?"a snide comment from the shadowy fiend was a god question to Scratch. What did he care? He was just a random bartender, barely liked by even the townsfolk, so why this mess?
    "Well, let's just see... I don't like civilian casualties, and I don't like you lot." A dull thud reached Scratch's ears as Sidewinder lashed the other over the head with his pistol, "I don't think it's far to interrogate innocent bystanders for your target's location either." He sneered at the form on the ground as he stepped over him and into the room. "Come on. We haven't much time to lose again."
    "You need to explain now." Scratch snipped as he made his way towards the doorway, "What is going on?" Sidewinder grabbed his arm and pulled him from the room, leading out to his bike.
    "Ugh, I kinda got ya caught up in my job. It's not something that usually happens." His voice was tinged with irritation, "Don't think you're special, if it was another bartender it would be the same event. In any case... you need to come with me for a little while. So I can finish this up, and you don't get put on my conscious."
    "Then I can go home?"
    "Yeah sure... You're free, whatever."
    That was enough to get Scratch back on that death trap. As much as he hated that he had been dragged into some sort of underground war, he was slightly relieved he had someone to somewhat protect him. Even if the idiot did get him into it. It was nice that he took responsibility instead of feigning ignorance. Scratch decided Sidewinder wasn't that bad after all.

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Last edited by Golden.AUO on Fri Jan 02, 2015 12:16 pm, edited 20 times in total.
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Re: Staff Kiamara - Baloo.

Postby BecNessMonster » Mon Dec 01, 2014 12:46 pm

Mark with reason of eye closed being light sensitive

Please bump things I have forgotten// My Dogons //
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Re: Staff Kiamara - Baloo.

Postby yenneii » Mon Dec 01, 2014 12:47 pm

mark ;v; <33
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Re: Staff Kiamara - Baloo.

Postby Alva. » Mon Dec 01, 2014 12:54 pm

-dropping out-
Last edited by Alva. on Thu Jan 01, 2015 7:13 pm, edited 17 times in total.
hey I'm Alva!
I'm just dodging on and off of this site. If we're old friends feel free to message me.
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☆ ☆ ☆

Postby wickedfoul » Mon Dec 01, 2014 12:57 pm

im dropping out, i dont have the time
Last edited by wickedfoul on Sat Dec 20, 2014 8:59 am, edited 3 times in total.
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ive pretty much quit.
my tumblr : xxxxxxxxxxxxx @wickedfoul
my vent : xxxxxxx.xxxxxxxxxx @panther
my deviantart : xxxxxxxxxx aubadesucks

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Re: Staff Kiamara - Baloo.

Postby Pachoopi » Mon Dec 01, 2014 1:00 pm

aaah reserved immature, boisterous
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Re: Staff Kiamara - Baloo.

Postby Kyo » Mon Dec 01, 2014 1:09 pm

marking ;w;
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doll and icon by kivr
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Re: Staff Kiamara - Baloo.

Postby ibolya » Mon Dec 01, 2014 1:14 pm

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Name:
Nanuq (Inuit name meaning young cub)
Nationality:
Nanuq is an Inuit/Eskimo, currently residing in a peaceful but energetic village up in the Arctic.
Personality:
Nanuq is a sportive and kind Kiamara, he loves the thrill of the hunt, and never misses a chance to get out of the village and explore. He is very likeable and kind-hearted. He keeps his eyes closed because he does not need to open them, as he has the special ability to sense the auras of surrounding objects in his mind, and piece them together to form an image. This helps him when hunting, so he can sense a caribou's exact location (for example) from a distance, without getting too close and chasing it away. He has a thick fluffy pelt to keep the cold out, but it can also keep the cold in on hot days.
Hobbies:
Nanuq loves archery, and he has a seal bone bow, sacred to him, which is all he uses while on the hunt. He loves the bow n' arrow as it is silent and deadly, and has a wide range. He spends free-time exploring the amazing Arctic, and climbing icebergs.
Story:
A storm was brewing, and Nanuq knew it. He could see it approaching on the horizon, a large whirlwind of snow, ready to beat down on him. He closed his eyes, bracing the cold and wind. His mind's eye painted the image in his mind: white flurries, being thrown in every direction. He knew this area though, and he had a cave dug not far from here, so he ran into the blizzard, ice crystals bouncing off his thick pelt. He could sense the ground level rising, and knew he was approaching his destination. He soon felt a sudden dip, so he ducked his head and dove into the makeshift shelter. Instantly warmth surrounded him, as he went deeper and deeper. He turned around, opening his eyes, to see, not out of his mind's eye, the storm violently raging outside the small entrance hole. Nanuq sighed, he was used to this, the long waiting. He bowed his head, letting sleep take over, waiting till the storm died out.
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The Hunt:
I slowed my breathing. My mind's eye told me it was a young buck, but a bit weak. He was approxomitaly 30 feet away. It'll have to do I said to myself. I could feel the presence of my wingman not far from where I was. Oh, how I loved this. My heart racing, I knocked my arrow steadily, pinpointing the location of the buck. As soon as I was sure It was in the right place, I let go, listening to the tiny whoosh it made. I adjusted my ears, listening to see if I succeded. I heart a gentle thump. The arrow had found it's mark. I was about to go fetch my catch when I heard some more hooves hitting the ice. There were more.I signaled my wingman to take the buck back to the village, I was going in for more, except this time, oldstyle. I padded down the rock face, stepping onto the ice. It had started snowing in large flakes that reflected the light. I picked up my pace as I got closer to the sound. There they were, both old, one injured, both female. My pawpads gripping the ice I started to sprint, feeling the refreshing cold air fill my lungs. I raced towards them, and as they noticed me they started beating their hooves down faster. Don't think you'll get away that easy! I saw an upcoming iceberg, sloping up then dropping back down onto the ice. I sprinted up the mountain of ice, and jumped down, right above the two cows. I grabbed my whale-bone knife, and slashed. The one I had stabbed buckled and fell, while the other ran off. I sat beside the dying cow, and thanked it for granting me and the people in the village it's strength and life. Once finished, I got ready to drag the cow back on my sled.

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Last edited by ibolya on Sun Dec 14, 2014 8:29 am, edited 7 times in total.
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Re: Staff Kiamara - Baloo.

Postby get scared » Mon Dec 01, 2014 1:28 pm

      Ahh, dropping out
Last edited by get scared on Mon Dec 08, 2014 8:58 am, edited 2 times in total.
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Agust - The Fisherman's Son

Postby aoba » Mon Dec 01, 2014 1:38 pm

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The Basics wrote:If you only listen with your ears... i can't g e t i n

a short mix to listen to while you read
n a m e;;
    Agust Hall
    Agust is a swedish variant of the name Augustus, a name symbolizing strength or bravery -- ironic, given his shyness.
    This name is pronounced just as the month August!
    His middle name is more befitting of him; Ambali. It is an indian name, meaning sensitive, or compassionate.
    Agust's last name is Hall. It may sound anglicized or American, but it is a surname seen in many European countries, signifying someone who has served in a hall of nobles or royalty. Agust has never been a member of the upper class, and never will be -- even now, his family seems dedicated, and happy with, a role of servitude. Always willing to help and feed others, they don’t mind being “below” others. Agust chose not to hyphenate his last name -- he keeps his father’s name, a memento of him that he feels somewhat makes up for his absence during his early childhood.
g e n d e r;;
    Agust is biologically male and uses male pronouns -- mostly for the benefit of his family and friends. Being a native of rural (and by that, I mean rural) Sweden, most of the people in his life only accept two genders; and those genders are always in accordance with sex. Although he is comfortable with the label ‘male’, he leans more toward the genderfluid end of the spectrum. On most days, he feels perfectly cozy in a male body, but he possesses a lot of stereotypically female traits, and envies women’s ability to outwardly express emotion and ‘pretty up’.
a g e;;
    Agust is 21, but often doesn't act his age. He can be childish and on occasion he throws mild tantrums when overwhelmed or upset. He tends to like things generally targeted at children. He has trouble interpreting some books and films for adults, both due to his slightly limited english and the fact that he’s not the cleverest kia. He simply prefers media designed for children and young adults. He enjoys being able to comfortably understand them without too much effort, and likes to indulge in lighter, happier storylines. You don't have to be a rocket scientist to enjoy something!

s e x u a l i t y;;
    Upon moving out of his childhood home, Agust has been able to explore his sexuality on his own. Agust never felt any real attraction to girls, both as a child and an adult - this being said, he identifies as homosexual; but he does find women charming and almost envies them in a sense.





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sensitive | anxious | slow | generous | perceptive

❄ sensitive
    delicate; emotional; unstable
    While sensitivity can mean that someone is empathetic or caring, Agust's sensitivity is a weakness as well as a strength. He takes even the most offhand comments to heart, holding on to them for far longer than he should, using them as fuel for those self-deprecating late-night thoughts. The trouble with Agust's sensitivity is that those late-night thoughts have begun to strike him in the middle of the day.
❄ anxious
    fearful; jittery; uptight
    Agust is nervous and high-strung -- he is constantly searching for an outlet for his boundless nervous energy. He is easily overwhelmed in social situations; even a single person can make him feel cornered and panicky. Almost anything can render him incapable of any kind of meaningful contact, as he tends to detach from situations when overwhelmed.
❄ slow
    simple; naïve; foolish
    Agust has never been the sharpest knife in the drawer. Through no fault of his own, he often misses out on jokes, or finds himself lost in intellectual conversations; the slight language barrier also contributes to his falling short in intelligence. Raised in a home that values street smarts over book smarts, he's learned to make a living for himself, not to be an adept raconteur.
❄ generous
    hospitable; big-hearted; honest
    Agust, like his parents, has always been almost overwhelmingly giving and welcoming. He'll spend weeks finding the perfect gift for you, the right place for you to stay on a visit, the perfect advice for a tricky situation. Although it sometimes takes him some time, earning his friendship pays for itself in love, honesty, and lavish gifts.
❄ perceptive
    intuitive; insightful; observant
    Agust has always had a talent for judging people, having always listened closely for nuance in voice and vocabulary in lieu of body language. He can quickly size up a person's intentions or personality in a brief conversation, and often knows just what to do in a complicated social situation. Although he tends to stumble and make mistakes in his own conflicts, he can often offer the perfect advice to others. He has developed this talent through years of watching from the sidelines, too afraid to take the social plunge for himself.

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________

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A short and sweet biography
Get to know Agust on a personal level
n a t i o n a l i t y;;


    Agust is a native Swede -- he came from a tiny town in the corner of Sweden, so rural that it was never legally named. It can hardly be called a town; it was simply a tiny port surrounded by two or three houses. This may have contributed to his social anxiety -- after years of only seeing only the same six or seven people, any number of people seems overwhelming. He has since moved to a more urban area of Sweden, a town called Katrineholm.
h i s t o r y;;
    Agust’s father was a herring fisherman - often gone for weeks or months at a time. Therefore, Agust was raised primarily by his mother. Agust has a lot of stereotypically “feminine” traits, but these were not imparted by his mother - she was a strong, barrel-chested woman, and sometimes overbearing toward her son. However, he is proficient in cooking and housekeeping. These skills were instilled early on in him by his mother, who did almost all of the work around the house; from laundry to culling local varmints that would prey on their herring haul. She was the kind of woman who is just as comfortable with a shotgun as a sewing machine, and she was the one who kept Agust warm and safe in his childhood years. This made for a rather interesting youth. His mother was never quite abusive, but rather too abrasive for his liking. This being said, Agust often found refuge in his next door neighbor - an older woman that represents almost a grandmother to him. Seeing as his parents were much older than most, they were rather busy finishing the businesses of youth. When in your late forties, your energy is drained, and there's not much left reserved for children - however, there was a wanting between the parents and thus Agust was born. Agust was raised to be kind and quiet - with the last generation's ideals. Agust lived through no extreme youth, nothing out of the ordinary, and yet he's still a character of beauty. By the time his father had the ability to retire (50 - thanks to strong Swedish infrastructure) Agust had already planned to leave his small home - for somewhere anywhere but there. At this point he moved to Katrineholm to stay with his Aunt and Uncle, finishing as much schooling as possible.
    Today Agust still resides in Katrineholm - a beautiful Swedish town.

P h y s i c a l d i s a b i l i t i e s;;
    Agust has a heart murmur caused by an extra flap of flesh in an artery of his heart -- the poor boy quite literally has too much heart for his own good. It was this that deterred him from moving to the states, although he dearly wanted to leave Sweden - air travel was deemed too stressful for his weak heart, and Swedish healthcare is free, providing a better home to allow his heart to be monitored regularly. This confined him to his native Sweden.

m e n t a l h e a l t h;;
    While he has never been officially diagnosed, Agust and his close friends and family believe him to have a form of social anxiety. He is extremely anxious and tightly strung, especially around other people, and can often spend hours choosing exactly what to say in a given situation. If he stutters, or his accent butchers a word, he may hold onto this mistake for hours or days, replaying the moment over and over in his head, regretting every second. Currently he's working on coping with his anxiety, and perhaps one day he will seek more information on his illness.

e d u c a t i o n;;
    Despite mild dyslexia and his social anxiety, which was less severe as a child, he completed grades K-8 (he was homeschooled by his mother, but tested into 8th grade at the age of fifteen, a year or two later than most children). After moving to Katrineholm, he stayed with his aunt and uncle, who provided him with what he needed to attend high school. However, Agust dropped out of high school halfway through his sophomore year due to the overwhelming pressures of high school. His anxiety prohibited him from most school activities, and eventually from attending school at all. Later in life he attained his GED (after moving out of his Aunt and Uncle's) so that he would qualify for better jobs.

b o o k s m a r t or s t r e e t s m a rt?
    Agust has always been streetsmart above booksmart -- despite his anxiety, he is excellent at reading people and situations, probably due to all the time he has spent watching rather than being caught up in social situations. Although he often doesn't know what to do with himself when placed in a social setting, he is often able to give valuable advice to friends and family on how to deal with others. Despite his partial lack of education, he adores reading - albeit he reads incredibly slowly. However, how slow he reads also contributes to his comprehension! It takes him forever to finish a book, and his dyslexia certainly doesn't help his reading speed., but he completely immerses himself in the story, poring over every word. Nonetheless, this sure does show you what kind of person he is - diligent and dedicated to his interests.

r e l i g i o n;;
    In terms of religion, Agust marches to the beat of his own drum. When pried, he identifies himself as agnostic, believing in a higher power but one that is not necessarily embodied by a specific god. However, he also believes in some forms of reincarnation; not a complete embodiment of the self, but in other sentient beings taking on traits of another person or thing previously deceased, or the creation of an animal with preconceived notions or views based on those of a once-living person.
    Both of these beliefs are unique to him (in his family that is!)

t h o s e e y e s;;
    Agust’s closed eyes are a trait he originally developed to prevent snow-blindness, caused by the glare of sun and moon on bright white snow. Since leaving his childhood home, it has become less of a necessity and more of a security blanket. Keeping his eyes closed, in a way, shields him from what he might see - the world is a big, scary place, and keeping his eyes closed allows him one more barrier between him and its coldness. It lets him remain blissfully unaware of its size, both its emptiness and its terrifying fullness; when his eyes are closed, no one can pull him from his warm, dark home.


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Agust is born under the zodiac sign cancer (June 23rd). He has a strong instinct for keeping himself and others safe, and is in touch with his emotions as well as the emotions of others. However, he can sometimes take things a step too far, and is subject to mood swings - one comment can turn his mood around completely. He is conscious of the fact that he is "needy" and craves affection, but finds it difficult not to come off as clingy. He relates to cancer's avatar, the crab, more than one would think - he feels an intense fight-or-flight response when he feels threatened, even slightly, and has a strong sense of self-preservation. He also tends to lash out and snap when overwhelmed - he needs space and time to cool down, or he may snap his claws shut on your finger!


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[i]Relationships between kiamaras in the community!
Just to get a feel Agust in social situations
- if you can call them that . . .
Nonetheless! Click on Agust's name for his reaction
and the other's name for their ref, enjoy!








Relationships wrote:AgustMeribeth
    Agust walked closely behind Meribeth, fighting the urge to grab onto her steadily swishing tail for guidance, not wanting to accidentally trip over a stone or root, and afraid of losing sight of Meribeth - not wanting to be stuck in the wilderness alone. He stumbled slightly, falling directly into her.
    "Watch it!" Meribeth started - her eye were daggers.
    “S-sorry!!” Agust blurted hurriedly, a blush spreading across his cheeks, feeling clumsy and stupid in comparison to the adept hiker. He felt like a fish out of water, wanting to enjoy himself but unwilling to open his eyes. She huffed and turned to face him.
    “It's fine,” she spat. "Just - be careful."
    Agust answered with a shy nod as he trotted to catch up with her.
    __________
    “I wish I hadn't been so nervous -- I think she would have liked me more. Maybe if we had met somewhere else? I don't really think I like hiking much... Somehow I managed to get a bird's nest stuck in my tail...”

AgustPatrick

    Patrick smiled widely, hoping to give Agust an extra bit of confidence, but when the quiet Agust did speak up, Patrick did.
    “You’re a quiet kid, huh?” he spoke, breaking the silence for what seemed like the hundredth time, Agust not easily picking up on his cues and forcing him to carry the brunt of the conversation.
    Agust flashed him a shadow of a smile and began to fidget with his paws, looking desperately for an outlet for his nervousness.
    “Y-yeah... I guess I’m a little shy...” the younger kiamara replied.
    "Nice to meet you--" Patrick paused, his face contorting into a wicked grin. Agust had only too late realized his mistake; "--a little shy." Agust sighed in annoyance as Patrick continued. "I'm Patrick."
    _________
    "He was really nice! Just - the puns..."
AgustGatsby
    Gatsby stepped back slightly, regarding Agust’s new attire, watching him shift and squirm uncomfortably. He sat down, then stood again, trying to get comfortable in the fitted clothing, used to a soft, loose fit. “Does it at least look good...?”
    Gatsby scoffed lightly, a smirk crawling on to her face. “Well, it’s better than what you were wearing.”
    Agust let out a nervous, jittery laugh, not wanting to offend the person that had so kindly outfitted him. “Is it really worth it? I mean, when’s the last time you wore something comfortable?”
    Gatsby laughed again. “When was the last time you wore something fashionable?”
    She smiled, before turning and leaving Agust alone with his new attire.
    _________
    "She was sweet! I'm just not sure if she was kidding or being nice, but I guess I like these clothes!"


AgustChernobyl & Pandora
    Agust hung back behind the two others he was walking with, hoping to avoid Pandora, an excitable woman seemingly bent on beating Agust into submission through pure extroversion. Agust had taken a liking to Cher, but Pandora made him nervous -- She drew attention to their little group just by, well, being Pandora. Agust switched sides, walking beside Chernobyl, hoping that the lively young woman hadn't noticed him, but she demurred, changing her position as well, walking directly beside August -- forcing him to realize only too late that she had been aware of his presence ever since she had joined him and chernobyl.
    “Hey, baby, who might you be?” she chimed, giving him a playful wink and nudging him in the ribs, catching Agust completely off guard. He scrambled for an appropriate response, his brain not able to catch up with his mouth, and he let out a panicked groan. He huffed and hid his face in his coat, embarrassed at his pathetic attempt at conversation. Chernobyl gave him a pained grin, as if to say, “We’ve all been here, buddy.” he gave him a comforting pat on the back, only causing Agust to cough and stumble. “I-I think I have somewhere else to be...”
    ___________________________________
    “Chernobyl is really nice! I think he liked me too! But Pan... She kinda scares me. Is she gone yet..?”
AgustIz
    “Can I get you a martini, babe? Hang on, lemme get you a martini.”
    “N-no thank you, I don't drink...!”
    “Hang on, honey! I cant hear you. I'll be back in a sec.”
    Agust realized with dismay that, despite his protests, Iz had brought out a second martini for him. He eyed it nervously, managing a weak smile. “Thanks...”
    “Of course, sweetheart.” the older made herself comfortable on the couch again, looking at Agust encouragingly. He gave her another weak grin and ate the olive off the rim of his drink - soon after Iz fell asleep on the couch.
    _____________________________________
    "I hope she didn't how wet my bag was - I just kept pouring them in, and she just kept bringing them... I didn't have the heart to tell her I can't stand booze..."


AgustRa
    Agust had spent nearly the whole day tagging along with Ra and his friends, enduring hours of playful and not-so-playful teasing, keeping his head down in hopes of a moment alone with Ra, a young man who seemed to be the kingpin of the jeering group of kiamaras. Despite being at the back of the pack and ruthlessly berated, he remained in somewhat of a daze - the poor boy was absolutely smitten with Ra, who seemed to dismiss his feelings entirely. While Agust had tried to write it off as a schoolgirl crush, he simply couldn't shake it.
    Ra trotted up to Agust and spoke in a hushed tone "Listen, I'm sorry I'm such a jerk - if it causes any problems - I mean, like depression, anxiety - just let me know."
    Agust beamed up at him, unconcerned by his previous attitude.
    “I don’t mind! I-I mean, I know we're still friends and all.” He paused for a moment, nosing at the fur around his neck. “Um... we are friends, right...?”
    Ra snickered "Sure kid - I can't believe you've stuck around with me, honestly." Ra laughed "I'm awful - you're a pretty tough kiddo."
    The bigger male paused for a moment "But uh - don't tell any of the guys, would you - about my concern. They'd catch wind of my own problems, and that'd be the end of that." After a chuckle and a brief farewell, Ra disappeared.
    _________
    Agust stammers and laughs, trying for some time to force out a coherent sentence. Eventually he gives up, a bright blush spreading across his face as he buries his nose shyly in his fur.

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Some artwork I regret not having been able to fit into my form.
All unsourced art me.


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coding by momotarou C:
Last edited by aoba on Sat Jan 10, 2015 6:27 pm, edited 44 times in total.
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