[wickedbvnes]

username:
kia name:
gender:
what the feathers/beads represent:

when he worked with charity, wip

[finoodle]

username: B L A Z E
kia name: wip
gender: male
what the feathers/beads represent:
*beads glow brighter when emotions run high, they help him keep track if his panic levels, feather remind him that life is soft and not rock hard, so that if he breathes all of the rock hard pressure will lift*

[whisky]

username: Whisky
kia name: Austin Marie Bristol
gender: Female
what the feathers/beads represent:

[christine,]

please listen to this while you go over my form
username:
Spottedsong
kia name:
Amichai[AMME-ik-eYE] [Hebrew: My people are alive]
gender:
male

what the feathers/beads represent:



Tight. Tighter. Too tight, uncomfortably now. They rattle against his skin, filling him with a sense of dread. This isn’t what he wanted. The priest doesn’t look him in the eye as he attaches the large mulberry feather with the string. Too tight. There is one bead on the string, only one bead connecting him to his homeland.
There are no stars tonight.

He's known this day was coming. It's a day that everyone he's known has had to go through. That doesn't mean that it isn't overwhelming, however. The faces of everyone he's ever known and loved stare back at him with unrelenting gazes. His father doesn't have the sparkle of pride in his orbs, nor does his mother show any signs of the usual affection she usually does.
The stars are still black in the velvet sky.

It's been weeks now, and each wave of the giant feather is a tainted reminder of his exile. The single bead at the end of the string clicks against his tail repeatedly, telling him that he has to keep moving. He has to show that he is capable of becoming a full member of his home. But it's becoming harder and harder every day to function. Eating less, sleeping more, Amichai feels that his ancestor's stars are baking into his mishappen fur late at night.
The stars are there, but only glimmering softly.

The year mark has hit. He has only gained one more bead since then, but it is one that has it's own story, one that Ami can recall clear as starlight. Starlight that can be seen in his eyes, in his fur as he speaks about his day of forthcoming. He's still in exile, yes, but it's not as unbearable now. He still feels the tug in his feet as he travels farther and farther away from his homeland, calling him back.

__________________________________________________________________________

The day of forthcoming is a big day for anyone in the Livennwa tribe. It’s a day that symbolizes you becoming a true member of the tribe, of taking your place among the elders. It’s a day that can be described as terrifying, almost violent. But as traditions go, they are not usually changed by anything. Not by any of the initiates, not by any of the elders. There is little leeway on a topic such as this. It is something that everyone has grown up knowing, not caring about its orgins. Some things are not meant to be questioned.

On the day of the coming, the initiate is surrounded by everyone they have ever respected. They all look them dead in the eye, a placid look on their face as the head priest approaches the youngest. In his jaws there will be a string and a feather- a string with a single, luminous bead on it that gives off an almost intimidating glow. The string is placed tightly around a part of them- wherever the priest feels is strongest in the future of the young initiate. The words are read from a tattered scroll carefully, the same that have been repeated through the generations.

‘On this day, the day of judgement
A young soul is placed before me
A soul that is free of bindings to any place but themselves.
The day has come for those ties to be severed
For tribe is always before yourself.
You’ve been given these offerings as showing for the life you owe to this place
To this tribe
To this world
Use it wisely, young traveler.
Five years and one day you will return and take your place.’

And thus they are put into exile, not to see their family until five years and one day later. They are set off on a journey to show them just how hard it is to survive without the help of your tribemates. The exile isn’t to show how useless a kiamara is- it’s to show that it is alright to rely on others in times of trouble. During their exile, a kiamara is expected to leave and travel. To cities, through jungles, around parts of the world. A nomadic life can often be difficult, no matter how far away it is from a homeland.

Upon arriving in a new place, the initiate is expected to have a bead made for their strings, as close to the color of the first bead. Each bead has a backstory, one to share with the tribe upon return. They are the stories of difficulties and paradises past.

help amichai escape from his tribe! click the up arrow the jump over the tree stumps to avoid being captured.
by me- xxx by tenchibaka- x by Zera x

[Palmie]

Possible res

[pidgeoncat]

username: glace
kia name:
gender:
what the feathers/beads represent:

[cinnabon]

|| "I'll let you have your revenge" ||
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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username: I'm tamaraa, and I'm a non-owner.
I have been stalking kiamaras and I've never seen one as
amazing as this one, no lie.
I've felt connected to many other Kias before this one,
but I've never been as connected as this.
Thankyou for giving us all the
chance to win such an amazing Kia.
Sorry if I'm shoving to much writing at you!

kia name: Jube, I though this name really suited him.
It's also the name of one of the main characters in my
favourite book. Most Kiamaras call him jube,
though very close friends give him the
nickname 'Chip.'
Becasue he looks a lot like his deceased father.
"A chip of the old block"

Gender: Male

Star Sign: Taurus

Age: 16

Birthday: October 11th

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What the Feathers/Beads Represent:

When you see Jube's beads and feathers, most think he got rewarded them because of an accomplishment. But they are very, very wrong. Jube wears them as a punishment, a reminder of his past so he can never forget what he's done. And when they come back for him, he'll let them have their well deserved revenge.

It all began when Jube was on a hike up Mt. Oslo, the highest mountain in Australia. He was in a tour group with two anonymous Kiamaras and their child. It was a horrible day to be hiking. Storm clouds were gathering overhead, and the wind was pushing savagely against Jube, making him feel dizzy and cold. The tour guide motioned to them, waving his hand in the direction of the mountain. The wind was blowing so hard that Jube couldn't hear his voice. They began to hike up the mountain, shivering uncontrollably in the freezing cold. The mountain was steep, with many twists and turns. The sky was darkening, the black thunderous clouds covering the lonely, dark shades of blue. They kept climbing, the tour guide in front, the two Kiamaras and their child in the middle, and Jube at the rear. It was getting darker. The clouds were getting closer. Jube was getting colder.

Three hours had gone past, and they had barely got anywhere.The snow on the mountain was far too deep to go any further.The tour guide began to turn around with glassy, shivering eyes. Everyone turned around with him.

They waited for the tour guide to reach the front of the group. He was taking quite a long time. Jube couldn't blame him. It was going to be a tough journey down. Jube immediantly had a worried expression on his face. Especially for the young Kiamara. The tour guide finally made his way to the front of the group, but he didn't bother to tell them to follow him. He obviously wanted to get of this mountain as much as Jube.

The weather was crazy. The worst Jube had ever seen. He looked behind him to make sure the others were alright. He saw the small Kiamara huddled between the two adults. She looked afraid and her structure appeared ghostly. Jube realized that they were slightly lagging behind. He pushed his way through the dense snow and tried not to think of the black terror filling the sky, or the startling low temperature. He reached the others and let the mother lean on him for support. Jube looked ahead. He couldn't see the tour guide anymore through the swarming blackness. He was gone.

Down. That's what Jube kept telling himself. Down. He didn't know exactly where to go, but if they continued going down, they would reach the bottom of the mountain. He told the others about the tour guide's disappearance. They looked worried and frightened. The little Kiamara wasn't even listening. She had her eyes closed tightly and every inch of her fragile figure was shivering.

Down. Down. Down. Jube let the word repeat itself in his head. Down. Down. Down. Let's go down, and we'll be safe. He was quite angry about the tour guide just leaving them like this. Selfishness. The world has too much of it.

Suddenly a massive crash boomed above them, and thunder lit the sky. Jube flinched. This was bad. Very bad.

A shriek exploded to the right of him, and Jube saw a small, huddled body tumbling down the steep slope of the mountain. The little Kiamara. Taking deep, startled breaths, he leaped down after her. "Be brave. I'm coming!"

He tumbled down after her, his heart aching. He could hear distant cries of the Kiamara's parents. This was such a horrible, horrible day, if you could even call it a day. But for all Jube knew, things were about to get a whole lot worse.

They were now heading for a cliff. Jube tried to go as quick as he could. He had to save her.

But it was too late. He skidded to a hault at the edge of the cliff as he watched the young kiamara's limp body fall down into the depths. Tears spread through Jube's eyes as he looked down in agony.

Something glisented near the edge of the cliff. He knelt down and crept forward. Beads. He saw beads, a perfect feather and a small,dark purple feather attached to a slim piece of string. The last remains of the Kiamara. He picked up the large feather and the beads and tied them around his tail. He tied the smaller feather around his front paw. He will never forget her bravery.

Breathing heavily, he saw the shadows of the parents approach. They stared at him for a long time, pure hatrid in their eyes. "What have you done?" they both screamed at him, rage pulsing menacingly through them. Jube looked at them in the eyes. Tears were streaming from them. From everyone's. "We will never, ever forgive you," the father's voice boomed.

Jube gulped. "I failed to save your beloved daughter. I feel grief above any I have experience before. But above all, I feel guilt. I've tried my best, but I know you seek revenge. And someday, in the future, I'll let you have it."

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x Hobby x

Jube's hobby is poetry. The inspirational
kind. His other hobby, unusaully,
is graffiti. He links his two favourite
things together by spray-painting
his poems along the alleys to inspire
others to do great things. Different and emotional,
but good-hearted and effective.

x Crush x

Jube likes to keep his crush a secret.
With the subject of love, he is very
shy and will most likely blush or
attempt to get out of the situation
when someone asks him, "who
do you like?"

I for one know June's secrets, and
he has a small big
crush on a certain kia.

Demetrius

x Likes x

x Poetry, but not
the soppy kind. The strong,
independent kind is the kind
he likes.

x Quotes.
Inspirational quotes keep
him going, and he loves the
warm feeling they give him
when he reads them.

x Graffiti.
Jube loves making artistic
designs in his free time.
Though he does not believe
in vandalism. He believes that
graffiti is a true form of art
if used in the right way.

x Bears.
Jube loves all kinds of bears.
Pandas, Red Pandas, Polar Bears and
Grizzly Bears are his favourites.
He has a pet baby Grizzly Bear
named Oaken.

x Birds
He has a hobby
of bird watching when
he's not hanging with his
friends, admiring Demetrius,
or writing poetry as graffiti.

x Rock Climbing.
Jube loves how rocks
match the colour of his pelt.

x Dislikes x

x Mountains.
Ever since the exprerience he
had on Mount.Oslo, he's been
terrified of them since.

x Lousy Tour Guides.
Jube hates it when tour guides
don't put in their best effort.
It reminds him of the little
kiamara. She could of been saved
if their tour guide didn't leave them.

x Horses.
He nearly got trampled
by one when he was a young
Kia.

x Cheese.
Jube doesn't like the
taste of cheese, espiacially
melted cheese.

x Snoring.
He doesn't like it
when someone snores.
He normally would try
to ignore it.

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~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
|| "Be brave. I'm coming!" ||
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



I THINK ABOUT HER,

HER STOLEN EYES

AND SMALL, FRAGILE FIGURE

AND THE MEMORIES COME RUNNING BACK

THEY'RE STILL OUT THERE

SEEKING THEIR DESIRED REVENGE

AND I'M STILL WAITING

WAITING FOR THEM TO HAVE IT

BECAUSE I FAILED

I LOST

I COULDN'T SAVE THAT KIAMARA

AND NOW I PAY THE PRICE

HER LIFE WAS IN MY HANDS

AND NOW I CLAIM HER LAST REMAINS

TWO FEATHERS AND A STRING OF BEADS

WHICH REMIND ME OF THE PAINFUL MEMORIES

EVERYTIME I SEE THEM ON MY TAIL

TEARS FALL FROM MY EYES

AND I REMEBER HER FACE

WHICH ONCE HELD A SMILE

WHICH I HAVE ERRASED

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Jube's talking code,, #400000

What is Jube's favourite colour?
Well, I suppose it's a dark purple because it's the colours of his feathers,but- my favourite colour is this. I was talking, Jube.
If Jube had three wishes, what would he wish for?
It's obvious that I'd wish for the small Kiamara to be alive again. My second wish would be for infinity wishes, so then I could wish for something whenever I feel like it! Wishing for more wishes doesn't count, Jube. Fine. I'd wish for my pet bear, Oaken, to find his family again. And your last wish is...? To have permission to graffiti my poems across the Ifle Tower. ...right.
What is Jube's favourite place?
I see Jube going- stop! They don't need to know that, so uh, my favourite place would be deep in the forest. What about the wild animals? The more wild animals, the better.
What was Jube's favourite game as a young Kiamara?
He- uh, can we skip this one?
How attached is Jube toward his bear cub, Oaken?
Very, very attached. Jube treats Oaken like his own son, and he is willing to go to great lengths to return Oaken home. I actually agree with you for once.
Is Jube could visit a place anywhere in the world, where would it be?
Antarctica. He would take Oaken with him, of course, to see how he would react to the polar bears. It would be shakingly cold for both of them, but I would make coats and the other neccesities needed for their trip.
If Jube could be something different, what would he be and why?
Can I choose two things? I guess. So, the first thing is a grizzly bear.Why? ...is this some kind of quiz, or something? I'd like to be a grizzly bear so I could take better care of Oaken. Another thing I'd like to be is a book. Why a book? Really? I was getting to that. I'd like to be a book so I could be whoever I want to be. And how could you do that as a book? I never said what kind of book. I'd be a book that could be any type of book it wanted to be. So I could be anything, or anyone.
So, one name. Demetrius.
I want to answer this one, he's been- there is now way in the world you are answering this. Will you stop cutting of my sentences? No, I do it for a good reason. Demetrius- next question! You did it again...
If Jube could have a super power, what would it be?
I'd like to be able to bring back the dead. This way, I could bring back the Kiamra...you know which one I'm talking about.
What is Jube's favourite movie?
Pirates of the Caribbean. I love Jack Sparrow!
What is Jube's favourite book?
Can I do a book series? I love The Maze Runner.
Who's Jube's favourite character in The Maze Runner?
Jube likes Thomas, because it reminds him of himself. When Chuck dies, it reminds him of the little Kiamara he failed to save.
Here's a question for Jube only. Jube, if you could only say one last thing in your life, what would it be?
Why are you asking me this? ... guys, what's this about? Jube, just answer the question. So...how much words can I use? Three. I'll miss you.

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{Username, Name, Gender, Starsign, Age, Birthday}
{What the feather/beads represent}
{Hobby, Crush}
{Likes, Dislikes}
{Poem}
{Questions}

{Art of Jube spray painting by tamaraa}
{Art of Jube at the beginning by tamaraa}
{Quick Sketches of Jube by tamraa}

[teleport]

Work in progress, formatting/arty stuff will happen in due time!

Username:
teleport

Kia name:
Marshall

Gender:
Male

What the feathers/beads represent:
I find it kinda funny that when you're very protective of something, people tend to assume it has some kind of monumental sentimental value to you. Like, the second I swish my tail away from somebody's grubby paws in defense or call my accessories 'important', it's because the feathers were a dying gift from my grandmother or my beads are an ancient treasure from my culture or something real dramatic like that. No, really, I just got this stuff off Etsy for ten bucks, mainly because it matched my eyes and was cheap. Looks weren't even a factor when it came to buying this stuff. I would have been just as happy with crafting feathers from Michael's and Christmas lights in my tail if it had been any easier. These accessories aren't supposed to be pretty. These accessories are a tool.

Ever seen a hypnotist in a movie or TV show or whatever? They use a watch, or a crystal, or some sort of other pendulum to draw the hypnotee's (Is that a word? I'm making it a word.) attention with the swinging motion, leaving their mind open to the hypnotist's work. That's about the best comparison I can provide for what I do with the feathers and beads. See, I have kind of this... thing with anger. I'm usually able to stay relatively even-keel as long as nothing sets me off, but the second I get even a little bit hot under the collar, I basically go all-out Hulk-style angry on everything and everyone in the direct vicinity. It's something that's being going on since I was a kid, and something that I (and the ridiculous guys and gals who choose to hang around with me) have been trying to stop basically since it started. Since none of the more 'normal' methods of anger management have worked with me, we've resorted to what's basically a modified form of hypnosis.

I can generally feel an outburst of anger coming on, and when/if I do, it's easy enough to swoosh my tail back and forth in front of my face kinda like a pendulum. The light from the beads (and the feather, sort of) is seriously distracting to me (try quickly waving a light in front of your face and you'll see what I mean), and my mind is effectively diverted from whatever little thing originally set me off. Sometimes this is enough to calm me down, but a lot of the time a friend will have to step in and talk me down while I'm distracting myself. It's certainly not an 100% effective way of keeping myself cool, but it helps a lot especially since I'm trying to pursue a pretty serious career nowadays (although one of these days one of my superiors is gonna walk in on me waving my tail in front of my face like a weirdo).

Lifestyle
As far as jobs go, right now I'm a forensic scientist (or I'm trying to be). Despite being pretty darn disorganized, overly casual at work and having a bad habit of making jokes where they really shouldn't be made, I'm actually quite good at the whole science part of the job. I'm certainly observative enough for it, and am good at noticing the really obscure little details of things that end up being important (and also the ones that end up being completely irrelevant, but y'know...?) As a kid I originally wanted to be a police officer or a detective, but as I grew up, did more work with microscopes, and continued to have trouble with anger management it became obvious that I would do best in a lab. Nowadays I live in a basement apartment in downtown NYC, own a Pomeranian named Cupcake despite building regulations, and tend to get sucked in by reality TV shows and online Scrabble in my spare time. It's a pretty chill life.

[a sky full of stars]

-
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magpies, among the raindrops sang - and count them as I will

┏---------------------------------------------------┓
-----One for sorrow,
Two for joy,
Three for a girl,
----- Four for a boy,
Five for silver,
Six for gold,
----- Seven for a secret,
Never to be told.
┗---------------------------------------------------┛

-
-

username:
a sky full of stars
kia name:
sorrow - not his original name, but an alias chosen by himself.
pain came with his birthname and he hated
the weakness bestowed upon him as it danced upon others' lips.
gender:
male
what the feathers/beads represent:
there goes the rhyme of magpies, a superstition; old wives tale.
yet sorrow carries this little children's song in his heart.

one for sorrow,
two for joy,
three for a girl,
four for a boy,
five for silver,
six for gold,
and seven for a secret,
never to be told.

it is from this rhyme he derived his new name, and from this rhyme
that each of his beads came. in a time of utmost sorrow, the first
bead was tied upon his tail, and in joy like no other was the second
bestowed. seven beads sorrow now carries, the last bearing the
heaviest weight of all, with a price that tugs at his heart. he bears
a secret, one dangerous and raw, and upon his lips it has never
come. each of sorrow's beads are dear to him, all being arranged
on his tail after a major life moment at various times. the colour
purple has little significance to the stranger, but it was his mother's
favourite colour - the origin of the
superstition and the source of the trigger for the first bead.
sorrow's feather was, coincidentally, taken from a magpie's nest.
fans of all things bright and gleaming, the feather had found itself
wound among the twigs and leaves of the magpie's nest, and it was
here that sorrow plucked it. such a root on sorrow's life had the
simple rhyme taken, that it seemed only fitting that his feather
relate in some way. the colour too, bears similar to the beads.
the rhyme drives sorrow in his everyday life, and such superstitions
does this kiamara take to heart. a kiamara of reasoning and order,
his mind is driven by the words of others and all the happenings
in the world seem to have an impact on the curious kiamara.

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┏---------------------------------------------------┓
-----One for sorrow,
Two for joy,
Three for a girl,
----- Four for a boy,
Five for silver,
Six for gold,
----- Seven for a secret,
Never to be told.
┗---------------------------------------------------┛

-
-

[henley]

................................................................................................................................................................

Centuries - Fall Out Boy

Du du du du-du du du
Du du du du du-du du du

Some legends are told
Some turn to dust or
to gold
But you will remember
me
Remember me for
centuries
And just one mistake
Is all it will take.
We'll go down in history
Remember me for
centuries
Hey, hey, hey
Remember me for
centuries

Mummified my teenage
dreams
No, it's nothing wrong with
me
The kids are all wrong,
The story's all off
Heavy metal broke
my heart

Come on, come on and
let me in
The bruises on your thighs
like my fingerprints
And this is supposed to
match
The darkness that you
felt
I never meant for you
to fix yourself

And I can't stop 'til the
whole world knows
my name
'Cause I was only born
inside my dreams
Until you die for me,
as long as there is a
light, my shadow's
over you
'Cause I am the
opposite of amnesia
And you're a cherry
blossom
You're about to bloom
You look so pretty,
but you're gone so soon

We've been here forever
And here's the frozen
proof
I could scream forever
We are the poisoned
youth

Mummified my teenage
dreams
No, it's nothing wrong with
me
The kids are all wrong,
The story's all off
Heavy metal broke
my heart

Come on, come on and
let me in
The bruises on your thighs
like my fingerprints
And this is supposed to
match
The darkness that you
felt
I never meant for you
to fix yourself

We've been here forever
And here's the frozen
proof
I could scream forever
We are the poisoned
youth

We'll go down in history
Remember me for
centuries

ART
hood - takiunfoo

old photo edit- me

◤xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx◥

◣xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx◢

-Ｕｓｅｒｎａｍｅ-
henley, current kiamara non-owner. And even though
I've been trying for over a year, I'm still just as in-love with
this species and I cannot wait to own one myself.

-Ｎａｍｅ-
Griever Sangria. Pleased to make
your acquaintance.

Griever should have a rather obvious meaning, it is a
purposeful mis-conjugation of grief, or grieving.
But Sangria might not be as obvious. Sangria, though
most known as a type of wine, is classically a
wine-like color. Much like that of this kiamara's
horns, feathers, beads, and eyes.

-Ｇｅｎｄｅｒ-
Male... that should be quite evident upon
first meeting this kiamara. He is exceedingly tall
with the chisled body of a greek statue. With broad
shoulders, a firm jaw, and set brows. Griever's
most noteable 'male' characteristic, however, is
his velvety and convincing voice. Slightly higher
than that of most men, and slightly softer. Many
of his closer associates say that it is to make
people lean closer to him, thus drawing them
into a more intimate and trusting scenario.

-Ａｇｅ-
19, though most people say that he acts
and appears much older than that. Perhaps his late
20's. This does not bother Griever in the slightest,
however, as he appreciates the respect and trust
that comes with his dignificated looks.

-Ｏｃｃｕｐａｔｉｏｎ-
He specializes in many a psuedoscience,
with a few odd talents that the worst of the worst
hire him for. Though, he tends to stick to two
simple tasks; Phrenology, reading facial
expressions, and analyzing body posture in order
to see if someone is lying. For those who do not
know, Phrenology is a pseudoscience primarily
focused on measurements of the human skull, based
on the concept that the brain is the origin of the mind,
and that certain brain areas have localized, specific
functions or modules. In short, naive individuals pay
him to tell him their personality while he flints through
their hair and gives them a scalp massage. But don't
you dare tell them that!

-Ｈｏｂｂｉｅｓ-
As fun and exciting his psuedoscienes are,
they are not all that make Griever happy. Unknown
to most, though not incredibly surprising if he
tells you, Griever is a master of chinese checkers!
Chinese Checkers is a strategy board game that
can be played by two to six players. The goal of
the game is to move all of your colored pieces into
the corner opposite your starting corner, one step
at a time. The game is won once nobody is able
to move their pieces any further (Other players
blocking them), or once everyone has all of their
pieces in the opposite corner home. The first
player to move all of their pieces their
successfully, or with the most their in the end,
if the victor. Griever has only ever lost three
games in his life, at least, so he says.

-Ｓｔｙｌｅ-
Think Gatsby, Buster Keaton, or even
Charlie Chaplin and you have an excellent example
of Griever's fashion sense. Most noteably; a
flawlessly mussed t-shirt and tie (bow or long),
a colored shirt, silk tie and matching vest. Or a
seemingly custom-fit suit. All with brown or black
dress shoes. Ask him, and he might say "I am not
naturally charming, but appearance is half the
battle. And I'd much rather be half charming
than a total nusiance." If he is to ever accessorize,
(asside from the set of beads and feathers)
it will be one, or all of things; Purple
gemstone cufflinks, a large silver wrist watch,
and/or a small silver chain necklace. None
have any particular resounding message or
backstory, they are just interesting and pretty
things Griever bought himself at one time or
another.

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- Ｐｅｒｓｏｎａｌｉｔｙ -
If you define personality by what others
think of a certain person; all of those who meet
Sir Sangria take one of two sides on who he is.
One group will describe him as pleasant,
hardworking, playful, endearing, and blessed
with a wit that is worth of endless envy.
Though the other group tells of a kiamara
with a much more... sinister disposition. They
will title him a criminal, brutish, decietful,
seductive, and worth of nothing but the title
of Villian.
In truth, Griever is not one, the other, nor a mix
of either sides opinionated adjectives. He is
either or, depending on the situation he
encounters; taking on the more cruel character
when it is needed, and caring one for the rest
of the time. To say which he enjoys being the
most is a choice that Griever himself cannot
seem to make, or at least, admit to.

- Ｔｈｅ Ｐａｓｔ -
Growing up in the suburbs of Chicago,
Illinois; Griever has seen funds and famine,
compassion and chaos, gangs and gilmore.
In Griever's eyes, his hometown is the capitol
of opposites. Born to a rather average family,
Griever had the luxury of being able to
befriend anyone from any side. In a single
period of class, he could shake hands with
the captain of the polo team and then
proceed to brohug the nearest gang
member. Much to the dismay of either
end of the spectrum, but never a true
issue by means that they might exclude him.
School, social life, and extracurriculars
have always been easy for Griever, though
he never stood out in anything growing up.
He always did just 'well', and for the
longest time, those mediocre verbs haunted
his every day. It wasn't until his first year
in community college that he found
himself. He did not find a subject that '
secured him, nor a teacher who shaped him,
Griever simply woke up one day with
the idea that those titles only mattered
if he let himself care about them.
And to this day, Griever stands in a very
similar position.

- Ｔｈｅ Ｂｅａｄｓ -
The bead bound around his tail might
not have the type of backstory that you may
be expecting. It was not given to him by a
parent, or sybling, or even a distant relative.
Those beads were a 1st year aniversary gift
with Griever's first and only girlfriend... but
it wasn't a gift from her. It was the gift he
planned to give her. He loved that girl to no
end. And after a painful month of feeling as
though the love was leaving them, Griever
bought her the beautiful draping necklace in
hopes of spicing things up once more. He
wore a nice suit, and drove to her house...
where he proceeded to use the key she gave
him to open the door and find her asleep with
another kiamara making breakfast. Griever,
not being the heartbreak type, got angry.
Speeding home, slamming doors, throwing the
gift box and accidentally tearing the delicate
chain. He fumed for a few hours, throwing out
photos until he found the chain on the floor of
his living room once more. He started at the
thing until he finally decided "It'll look better
on me anyway." He has worn it every day
since that miserable one back in January,
and will probably never take it off.

- Ｔｈｅ Ｆｅａｔｈｅｒｓ -
Every kiamara earns a feather or two
once they come of the proper age, Griever is
no different, aside from the appearance of his
feathers. A single, long, and messy feather tied
about his tail, and a smaller, fluffier feather
tied to his wrist. To put it simply, each was
given to him by one of his parents; the longer
from his father and the smaller from his mother.
The two almost represent them in a way; small,
delicate, soft, fluffy and long, wiry, disheveled,
coarse, and stiff. Griever cares deeply for both
of his parents, even if he was never incredibly
close with either of them. They allowed for
him to have the life he has had, and to grow
and learn in order to become the young man
he is today. Without them, he would've crumbled,
crashed, and burned. Griever is aware of this,
and is more grateful than you might ever imagine.
His feathers mean more to him than his career,
reputation, beads, or appearance; they remind
him of his roots, and who he really is.

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