[Moonskye]

What is a Kiamara?
A kiamara is a wolf/lion-like creature. They have long, fluffy manes on the top of their heads, running down between their shoulders. They all have spots on their bodies- a trait in which will never be bred out of their DNA. They also have feathers- every Kiamara is given feathers when they reach the age of 2 years old. Their diet consists of fruit as well as meat- they prey on similar creatures that wolves would. Kiamara can be very shy before they get to know you. Can you win a Kiamara's heart?

; o ; Here's my staff kia! I wonder why his tail is so droopy? I asked him, and he says he can't lift it. Care to explain, competitors?

Code: Select all

username;;
name;;
why is his tail droopy?;; (max 2500 words)
extras;; (limited to 5 art pieces and 5000 words in total on extras)

Feel free to make your form pretty!

END DATE;; December 27th, 2014

[yuketsu]

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ＴＡＬＥ ＯＦ ＬＯＳＳ

Have you ever seen the dying light in a prey’s eyes, its hope
fading as a predator devours it? They are defeated even before
they can raise their swords to defend themselves. I laughed,
mercilessly striking them down. It was simple, really. There
are laws that govern the world, pulling the strings in the
darkness and I had executed them flawlessly. “The strong
devour the weak"; it may have been at these simply words
that had led to my revolution and retribution.

His muscles surged forward with action. It was as if he could
almost feel a presence from behind, a murderous intent over-
whelming his senses. Reeling around on the spot, a huge fist
barreled through, mere centimeters from Nicodemus’s face.
Too slow; you’ll be eaten up quickly. As the attacker stumbled
forward, the kiamara quickly grabbed the large thrusting forearm,
letting his opponent’s momentum slide and follow through .
At the last second, his knee shot up, landing a sickening crunch
accurately above the stomach. Several satisfying cracks, told
him that a few ribs had been crushed, his opponent slumping
onto the damp pavement of the filthy alley.

Grinning, Nicodemus walked over, towering the now limp
figure of his assailant. “Who sent you know this time?” His
question was only met by a wave of silence. He planted his
boot into the upper body of the figure, effectively pinning him
down as well as digging harder into the broken rib bones. A
sharp cry of pain rang out, echoing throughout the forgotten
alley. “See? I knew you could talk. Now let me as again,” he
said in an aggressive tone, “ Who sent you?”

Nicodemus curled his fists, ready to send another vicious assault
of punches when suddenly out of the corner of his eye, he saw
an incoming side kick aimed precisely towards his left jaw,
managing only to narrowly evade by stumbling back and falling
onto one knee. “I sent him,” a deep yet powerful and resonating
voice rang out.

The kia looked up, only to face a daunting figure of that
wearing a faded navy double-breasted trench coat tied with
a black belt, worn together with trousers and boots. Only a
small silver insigna on the uniform’s collar told that this man
had belong to the police force.

The newcomer was rather bulky in size,though his unscarred
face only proved as a testament that he wasn’t an experienced
veteran of any sort. He wore a seemly annoying smirk on
his face, as if he was overconfident of his abilities. “I assume
you’re Nicodemus Aldrich Sterben, judging by your amazing feat
there. I’ve even got it on tape. Now lets look at your profile ;
unknown age, charged with several degrees of murder and behind
the cause of many street fighting injuries. In your total career
have you murdered six people, two of them which were police
members, and injured over hundreds. You are known as “Second
Death”, your professional name. All your crimes may as well result
in a death penalty. Your sins must be purged in the name of
justice by I, Reverend Dunkelheit.”

Nicodemus stood up, letting out a small string of laughter
that echoed through the alleyway. “I think you’ve got the
wrong person. And..” He lunged forward at an astounding
speed, ripping the very air itself and tackling the beast.
“You’ve messed with the wrong guy!” That was his mistake.

A smile crossed the the police’s lips and Nicodemus’s eyes
widened. It was too late; the kia couldn’t stop at the momentum
he was going at. At the last second, Reverend took a step
back, letting Nicodemus fly past him. The bulky warrior grabbed
the criminal by the tail, pulling him back and driving it to
the ground. The impact was enough to crack the concrete
as the sounds of bones splintered. No, Nicodemus had never
felt this sensation before. It had washed over him, pulling
him down into an empty pit of darkness. It had completely
petrified him in a state of awe and confusion. He could not
move; his body did not respond. This was simply to put,
absolute fear. The face of a fierce warrior that had murdered
and destroyed many had been replaced by a cold wave of
despair, the kind of way a prey would respond when all hope
was lost. Several barrages followed as the police pounded him
without mercy. Nicodemus could only just curl into a ball; he
was destroyed completely, overpowered, fate bestowed to
only the weaker ones.

“Look what a pitiful creature you are now. Underestimation
lead to your mistake which lead to your defeat. You thought
that I was simply a beginner right?” The man knelt down, leaning
towards Nicodemus. “Well you’re wrong,” he muttered with a
dangerous edge in his voice. The smirk was replaced with cold
unyielding eyes, as if any signs of emotions had never been there.
“I am head of the special secret police force, Xtermination. You
are no match for us. Let your defeat be a stigma of your weakness.”
With that, he left the dark alley way, leaving the broken kia as the
first drops of rain pattered the ground.

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Nicodemus is a well known streetfighter in the part of town,
where he often receives challenges from other streetfighters
around the area. He survived by that; earning money by the
bets placed, as well as mercilessly beating down anyone who
payed him. He infamously is known as "Second Death" as Nicodemus
will often defeat his opponent so close that they are barely
clinging on to their life or kill them.

One day, a secret police force known as "Xtermination" sends
a police officer to fight him, unknowningly that they are using
that to film him. A man named "Reverend Dunkelheit" steps out,
clearly to challenge him by provoking the streetfighter with his
knowledge on the crimes he's done. Nicodemus falls for the bait
and leans in to attack him, only for Reverend to easily move to
the side and smash his tail and his body to the ground, breaking
every bone of the tail. He leaves Nicodemus barely clinging to
his life as a stigma and sign of his weakness, and very much as
well destroying his pride and breaking his soul itself.

Though eventually Nicodemus's tail heals, it can never be lifted
again since he has no more pride or dignity to uplift his tail as per
to his crushing and overwhelming defeat. Former guilt and the weight
of his crimes floods in and adds to more reasons of why his tail can never
be lifted. Merely, he is only a shell of his former self, a coward
protected under a physical body, and a fallen warrior.
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ＨＩＳx ＴＨＯＵＧＨＴＳ


I lived on with it. In fact, it became a monster of regret,
simply building up and tormenting my existence. A pride
shattered, dignified stolen, standing up again, only to
stumble upon cowardice. This is only a world where the
strong devour the weak, a fate bestowed to the fallen
ones. The dying light in my eyes only told a fading hope
as the predator devoured me.
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ＰＥＲＳＯＮＡＬＩＴＹ

Before, he was a rather cocky overconfident person who
held a rather merciless and ruthless mental state in mind.
Nicodemus never thought once about others, believing strongly
in this statement that "the weak will devour the strong."
He took this rather literally, training physically and participating
in illegal street fighting. The kia is also visibly irritated if
someone insults or thinks they are better than him.

After the incident, he reverts to a cowardly state, often to
seen with a dull look in his eyes or stare in a seemingly rather empty
void in front of him. All former traces of a cruel persona simply
disappears, replaced with a empty shell. He is more often in
his own world than reality. Instead of street fighting, he works
at a bar, usually found cleaning the bottles and cups or serving
drinks. Sometimes, he is dragged and beaten alongside the road
as they recognize him as "Second Death", but he shows no will
to fight back or defend himself.
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[x] - niluna
[x] - revengeance
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[rem sleep]

- - - - - - Click for full size! - - - - - -

The strange kiamara paces before you, his tail dragging limply behind him. He seems somehow distant, as if elsewhere entirely. He pauses, taking a moment to observe you, his icy sea green eyes piercing your being and looking beyond the physical being and deeper into your core. He cracks a thin smile, as if amused by what he sees, or perhaps what he doesn't.

The odd fellow's voice is as chilling as his eyes, and there's something oddly knowing about his tone that sets your nerves on end. You feel intimidated, though he's only proposed a simple thing. You sheepishly nod after a moment, feeling it wise not to lie to the strange kiamara before you.



You look at him quizzically. A story? You think to yourself, what sort of game is that? Though as if he's seen the doubt in your eyes he adds,

You look at him with mixed emotions, interest and also a bit of… diluted fear. "Let me finish. No interruptions." Again you respond with a simple nod, and watch with wonder as the strange kiamara takes a seat and makes himself comfortable.




The atmosphere about him lightens as he begins to tell his tale, the scowl previously occupying his face is replaced with a thoughtful look. You notice him get a bit more distant, his conscious drifting into the past where we lay our stage.



With this you feel yourself relax, perhaps this kiamara, or rather Louis, isn't as bad as you first assumed. But now isn't the time for thinking, in fact leaning back and lending him an ear sounds like a rather nice idea.You feel yourself being slowly whisked away into the world of the kiamara's story.


Click to Enter.

[Bebop]

he needs a hug

[Dragon Documentary]

possible reserve ;D;

[GIGABITE]

Hopeless. Lost. Broken.
Those are the words Delta knows best, as he's heard them the most since the war began. They said he was a lost cause, couldn't be saved, and the words he dreaded most; would never walk properly again.

Delta was once a young, ambitious Kiamara with a passion for the skies and a fiery desire to protect his homeland. At the age of eighteen he signed up for the air force. He became a dogfight pilot at the age of twenty-two. He stood tall, proud, ready to be a hero. Such eager ambition could never be matched, and he was looked up to as a symbol of morale and dignity. His squad called themselves the Dragon Division
When the war started, all Delta could talk about was how their forces would prevail, and the war would be won, if they all put forth their best efforts. He was seen as a leader, and when the pilots flew their planes to battle, he was front and center of the formation. He had a glare set on his brow, a determined smirk, and claws flexing over the controls. Others followed his lead in a spectacular display of sheer conviction. The Dragon Division dove into the fray, encouraging the troops below. They were winning, taking down the enemy and pushing back the wretched forces to keep their beloved homeland.

Things took a turn for the worse when Delta and his squad had to take down Kvalitnheim, the largest fighter ship they had ever seen in their lives. One after another his companions fell to the unusual weapon aboard Kvalitnheim. In a desperate attempt to save the remains of the Dragon Division, he flew his plane into the propeller on the left side of the ship. A chunk of the left side exploded upon the impact, destroying Delta's plane and throwing him back from the ship. Delta tried to open his parachute as he fell, but it had been destroyed in the explosion, and he fell to the ground. As he hit, he blacked out.


"So you know now. You know what happened... Or at least the beginning. After that, I woke... I was at a hospital. After I hit Kvalitnheim, it fell... The enemy forces were successfully driven off. But... We lost many. Some would say we lost the war entirely. I... I tried to move, but I could not move my hind legs, or my tail. I begged them to do something. Anything. I wanted to walk again. They all... They all just shook their heads. I had braces on my legs for a long time after that, but I still had to use wheels, as I could not move the rear half of my body at all... I fell into depression, always hiding away at home. My mother stayed with me, begging for me to take my depression medication. To get out of the house. Practice using the wheels. Her blue eyes would shine with tears as I... Just looked away. Every time.
Then my father returned from this trip. Business, I think. I wasn't too happy to see him, at first. Where was he when I needed him?
He simply grabbed me and began dragging me. Shoved me on his back so I was hanging over him like a ragdoll. Not much I could do about it, since I could barely move. I was quite bigger than him, and despite being draped over him like that my toes touched the ground. He lowered down so my paws were fully on the ground and had me move, or at least as much as I could. He was essentially forcing me into a sort of physical therapy... It hurt. It always hurt. After a while I refused to do it, yelled and cursed at him a few times. But he would drag me out and make me move my legs again. If I refused, he'd drop down and I could either crumple to the ground, which hurt, or make an effort to stay standing. It took a long, long time before they were strong enough, and we all thought it a miracle I could walk again. My tail didn't fare as well. There is no physical therapy for your tail... So it hangs behind me, dragging in the dirt. A reminder of what I almost lost.
My legs are still pretty weak. I can't run well, not yet at least, but I am slowly improving. Maybe... Maybe someday I will be able to run again, become like I was before; that ambitious eighteen year old idiot who dreamed of doing great things."

[wolf ;;]

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please don't take my ideas
- quiet, gentle, kind-hearted, easily offended
- road technician/stage hand
- tail is droopy due to a accident

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[img]art%20wip[/img]

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going through the basics ;;

This boy goes by the name of Zeev - which simply means 'wolf' in Hebrew.
Its a simple name for a simple kia. He has no nicknames, and his name is no
nickname for a longer version - it is simply four letters. Of course, he is a
male, and proud. It is hard to mistake him as a girl, although some do tend
to still call him a girl - not that he minds, he is too shy and quiet to correct
them half the time.

whats with the tail? ;;

wip

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[img]art%20wip[/img]

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digging deeper ;;

wip

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[img]art%20wip[/img]

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behind closed doors ;;

wip

[henley]

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ｕｓｅｒｎａｍｅ; henley

ｎａｍｅ; Valeria - Latin/Italian name meaning strong, brave, or valient.

ｄｒｏｏｐｙ ｔａｉｌ? ; Hyperkalemic periodic paralysis. Though, she may never know how she came to have it. Due to it's genetic nature, Valeria knows it must come from either of her parents, but seeing as she has lived her entire life in an orphanage; Val will and always had had to deal with it all on her own.
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ｅｘｔｒａｓ; 1 art 4,000 words

My mother named me Valeria, in hopes that I would be a stronger baby than she ever was a woman. But I was not strong, I'm not strong, I'll NEVER be strong!...

A young kiamara, short and tiny looking even hidden under a large brown coat, slinks up a stone staircase on three paws before she weakly collapses against it. Soft sobs can be heard from underneath the hood as the fourth paw emerges foreward holding a tightly wrapped pup sleeping soundly in what looked to be more of a burlap sack than a blanket. The girl stifles heavier waves of tears as she sets the baby down on the highest step she can reach, once laid down gently she rips a pen from underneath the cloak and scribbles something messily on the sack. As she completes the string of writing, she raises her head and seems to look of into the street and her sobbing quickly ceases and is overtaken by maddeningly endless laughter. It is the kind that rolls out of a creature so quickly that it sounds more like a scream or sentence than a chuckling giggle. Cackingly madly into the brisk winter air, the hidden woman stumbles from the staircase and into the street, as though something beckoned to her from smewhere in the distance. Though no car would dare drive in such a part of town at this time of night, it is worringly obvious how carelessly she ambled across the black aspalt without even pausing to scan her surroundings. Her laughter never ends, and it carries back to the staircase where she left her pup for many minutes before it is clear that she has traveled too far to be heard any longer...

"They found me the next morning." Valeria says, dragging me from the intense visual the start of her story had conjured in my mind. "The steps she left me where that of an old woman, I assume she meant to leave on the steps of the orphanage nextdoor. They tried to find her by asking around to see people's nearby security camera tapes, but they lost track of her around 32nd street. They never did find her." She pauses and scuffs her feet against the carpet, reminding me of my position as assistant counselor at the local orphanage. We are assessing the 18 year olds for fitness, as legal adults now they are free to leave the care center given they are mentally stable and physically healthy enough to do so. I was assigned the bunch that seemed to be lacking in the physical department, though looking at the rather average looking kiamara before me and adding up her story, I wondered how her mental health was somehow better than her physical health. Shaking my head to clear it I speak, "Well, good thing that we live in California." my tone weak, a feeble attempt to lighten up the story. "In any other state you might've frozen to... death..." I clear my throat as she responds with an even weaker "I-I suppose."
"Well then," I start "I hate to be blunt, but we do have many more kids to get through today and I'm sure you'd like to get out of here as soon as possible so..." I trail off, her eye contact is killer; those yellow-green eyes never leave my face, yet they are not blank; a clear indicator that she is truly listening to every word I have to say. "Ahem, so I'll just cut to the quick. What is your physical disability?"

Her cheeks turn beet red, and she snorts lightly. "Oh... so that is why I was cast among the wheelchair kids." after a deep breath in and a light laugh she says "I can't always move my tail. Hyperkalemic periodic paralysis is what it's called. Occasionally after exercise, stress, tiredness, or potassium rich foods my tail and sometimes my feet go completely limp. It normally only lasts a half hour to an hour. But if I avoid all of those things that cause it for too long then I get episodes that can last days... It's all about balance really. Mrs. Vinnie thinks that I take fairly good care of it though, and it doesn't hurt that badly. I know I can handle it on my own. I take some pain medicine and rest and it helps. I'll be fine." She huffs a sigh, and I notice that she hadn't paused to breath once in that entire explination. I believe her when she says she can control it, but kiamara's require their tails to communicate certain emotions, and it sends me on a trail of thought that ends in a spiral of what ifs. I nod in response to her and quickly check a few boxes off of my list. The future therapist inside me burns with questions, and seeing as many of them could only serve to better her chances of being released from the care center, I indulge myself: "Has it at all affected your communcation skills with other kiamaras? You can be honest, this is simply for understanding purposes and will only benefit you." I pause, seeing the hesitant look in those huge green eyes. "I promise."

She tucks a tuft of her messy, tomboy-ish mane behind her ear before speaking, but when she does her voice is a bit more conifdent then before. "Yes, there have been numerous times over the years, and I try my best to display my emotions in other ways. But even when I do that it has still gotten me in spots of trouble. The odd, stigmatic looks are the only things the bother me after I explain it to anyone..." Her voice weakens once more, but she attempts to cover it with a clearing of her throat and a soft smile. "But I can handle it." My heart breaks for her, and I jump to the next question as though it's answer could warrant any protection for her.
"Did any of the children here make fun of you for it?"

At this, her eyebrows turned upwards and expression of worry crossed her face, "Oh no no no, don't blame them for me being the way that I am. I've always been sensitive to the opinions of others, and everyone here has generally come to accept me... I'm just rather weak of heart I guess..." She plastered a smile on her face and waved the tip of her tail weakly. I worried for her, when speaking about her disability she seems to falter and weaken. In an attempt to draw her from whatever pain this disscussion was causing her, I asked a new question.
"Well, you can move your tail sometimes! I just saw it yes?" I smiled, as genuine as I could muster, but it felt forced and a bit pathetic. Thankfully, Valeria didn't seem to notice - or atleast; she didn't mention it. But her face did fall even further, and as she spoke her following words her eyes began to well with tears.
"Only just, and it takes so much effort. I cannot ever move it quickly, even when I am the furthest from an episode I can get. So frickin' stupid! It's so weak, the caregivers had me doing physical therapy for years! They said others with this mutation were able to gain some strength with physical therapy. And all it did was bring me more episodes. I am weak!"
The tension in the room was mounting and I reached out my hand to set in on her shoulder, I had never been good with younger creatures, but I truly felt for this girl. Before my hand even landed however she sprang shakily to her feet and stared at me, her brightly colored eyes dulled. She suddenly looked incredibly tired.
"I am so weak. Nothing can ever been done to mend me, I am a mistake. My mother, whatever and whoever she is gave me my name - scralled accross the sack as it were, but she still gave it to me. A name meaning power and perserverance. For all her probably madness and embaressment for my existence, she wanted me to live well and thrive instead of rott wherever she had. My mother named me Valeria, in hopes that I would be a stronger baby than she ever was a woman. But I was not strong, I'm not strong, I'll NEVER be strong!" Though powerful words, her voice was weaker than it had been all afternoon. With a breathy sigh, and those pretty young eyes rolling into her head, the small kiamara collapsed to the ground in a heap - falling off to the side with her legs stiff, and her tail even stiffer...
{1427 words}

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[nyota]

Mark

[O b l i v i o n ☯]

username;;
name;; Eli or Eeyore;w;
why is his tail droopy?;; (max 2500 words)
extras;; (limited to 5 art pieces and 5000 words in total on extras)

res he looks so cute owo

he reminds me so much of Eeyore omg