[munin] herbalist // philosopher // arbiter

Postby yuketsu » Sun Aug 09, 2015 5:37 pm



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M U N I N

HERBALIST // PHILOSOPHER // ARBITER

i am an herbalist, a philosopher, and in death, an arbiter. certain circumstances have
led me to this, though this story doesn't have to end in a tragedy. after all, everything
happens for a reason, doesn't it? the daily tragedies and misfortunes are all meaningful
events, leading toward an ideal conclusion. with that in mind, there probably isn't really
any meaningless misfortune. we must still continue to live our lives by our own script,
and to each, their own tale.

in the end, tragedies are too common. what exactly would change if I wanted revenge,
was consumed by hatred, or went insane with rage? even if I acted sad over it, nothing
would change, even if I cry, nothing would change. perhaps my understanding of death
was beyond that of human; i knew too much about the world, too much of god's play. i,
even in the end, transcended the human body, became an arbiter of death. this is a story
of a tragedy, lit under a fire, only to destroy logic itself and reverse the whole world.

name muninxxx//xxpast name decimxxx//xx age unknownxxx//xx gender male

if only they could understand...

we weren't friends nor were we enemies. we stood, side by side, acknowledging
each other, trying to understand each other, yet still, we clung on to our cages,
afraid to venture too far into this dangerous game, this irrational concept of death.
i never fathomed why others feared death; what was the point of despairing over
something inevitable, denying its lonely existence? if they had only opened their
arms, perhaps they too, would understand. how truly terrifying this lonliness can be.


swing back the pendulum

decim grew up with a normal, pleasant childhood, full of adventures and explorations;
all of the thoughts a little kid could hold. nonetheless did he anticipate the death of his
mother and sister so suddenly, shattering his quiet life, taking away the innocence of
his imaginations, freedom, and childhood. it had come suddenly, when he had returned
home from a day's venture, only to find the lifeless bodies of his family. perhaps this
single event had changed his life forever, the turning point of everything.


he erased his entire existence of his past life from then on, his proof of being alive — any-
thing that could link or even indicate of who he was, even his name, decim. instead of turn-
ing his tale into a tragedy, instead of lamenting, burdening himself with the remembrance,
it only sparked his obsession with the concept and philosophy of death. as he grew older,
he studied the arts of herbalism, an irony, a symbolism to save someone from death even if
he only wanted to grow closer with it. he lived remotely in the forest, surrounded by only
books and nature. but things got too far.

in fact, he grew too close with death. even humans, even the gods knew that this dangerous
game could not go on further. if humans became friends with death, the logic in the world
would be destroyed, worse, reverse the entire world. munin, who knew death was lonely, was
the only one who understood it fully, beyond the human knowledge. in the end, the gods de-
cided to pass him on to the afterlife, but instead of being reincarnated, or sent into the void,
he was resurrected as an arbiter of death, one who was neither alive nor dead, but to judge
over the deceased souls.

[as a mortal being who became too interested in death, the gods deemed him to be too dan-
gerous to be alive, passing him on to the afterlife and thus decided to make him an arbiter.]

tharrot
hey there, well you reached the end of my form for now, so i'd like to introduce myself c:
i'm a kiamara owner myself; i own two kias, one microkia, and am currently co-owning
another kia with someone. i'd be absolutely thrilled to co-own munin with you! he's caught
my eye for a while and i have to say he is quite the gorgeous kia. i'm always looking for-
ward to develop more characters and making new friends and i think this is a perfect
opportunity to do so as well as get to know you better as a person nvn as a fellow adopter
and artist, i believe that character development through creating stories, rping, and
art is important as well as connecting with the other co-owner, and it'd be a great time to
know others in the community such as you nvn

also, sorry if my form, if so my writing is a bit more confusing in ways since i tend to
put a lot more symbolism, reason, and meaning behind each and every action that the
character does, from what he does to his name. i'd love to get more in depth with what
he actually does later on! ^^

i don't have much to say since it's hard to just express in words but it'd be an absolute joy
to co-own munin with you and i'd have to say, i have many ideas in mind for him in the fu-
ture; this form is just a small glimpse of it haha c: again, thank you for considering me and
have a wonderful day!





Last edited by yuketsu on Sun Sep 13, 2015 4:03 pm, edited 17 times in total.
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Lair tryout

Postby Fleetwood » Sun Aug 09, 2015 6:25 pm

Ah, never finished. Oh well, good luck to all!
Last edited by Fleetwood on Sun Oct 04, 2015 2:32 pm, edited 3 times in total.
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Re: Free Kiamara(s) Co-ownership Contest

Postby nymx » Sun Aug 09, 2015 6:30 pm

snip
Last edited by nymx on Sat Oct 02, 2021 8:13 am, edited 3 times in total.
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Re: Free Kiamara(s) Co-ownership Contest

Postby LoSt In PrOgReS » Sun Aug 09, 2015 8:49 pm

Marking for unnamed
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Toyhou.se | Valley of kings | Deviantart
She/her | CET
I am a holibomber!
I have gifted 35 people.
I have received 10 gifts.
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Re: Free Kiamara(s) Co-ownership Contest

Postby Tricksters » Mon Aug 10, 2015 12:30 am

marking for munin
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casanova - they/she- queer- mouse artist
work 40+ hours a week overnight
please be patient with me I'm so tired rn

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Re: Free Kiamara(s) Co-ownership Contest

Postby TessyTheWolf » Mon Aug 10, 2015 5:31 am

x
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When you pretend to be someone else for a long amount of time, eventually you lose sight of the real you.
............................................................................................
«Through my life I have been three different people. The stuck-up child, the stuck-up investigator and the stuck-up historian.
None of them are truly real. I guess the stuck-up part is, though.»

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Name: Munin
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The name Munin most likely stems from the norse word munr, meaning desire,
and was the name of one of two ravens in Norse mythology,
that were the shamanic helping spirits of the god Odin. x

Birthname: Unknown
Age: 27 years
Sex: Male
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Heterosexual demiromantic
Relationship status: Single, not really looking
Occupation: Academic historian, member of the American Historical Association (AHA)
Lives in: New York, United States of America
Religion: None (atheist)
Theme song: "In the Shadows" - The Rasmus

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Who is he?
People often find Munin difficult to deal with, but all the more easy to catch a dislike for. Being almost constantly critical of everything is only part of it. It can be extremely difficult to earn his respect, seeing as he will take into consideration almost every aspect of your character and your actions and compare these to his own world views and ideals. He isn´t easily impressed whatsoever. And if he doesn´t like what he sees, chances are you are about to be rejected, and harshly so. Munin doesn´t believe in being kind just for the sake of it. This results in him often ending up alone. He claims being on his own doesn´t bother him, but while it is often true, there are times when he secretly resents the isolation.

Is there a reason for his critical way of thinking? Well you see, the truth is something that is very important to Munin. He believes that there is an objective truth to everything in the physical reality, and that it is our job to adhere to this truth. Being rational, demanding evidence and not taking anything for granted are, according to him, important in order to do that. He relies heavily on facts and evidence. This is the main reason as to why he dislikes religion as a concept: belief without proper evidence (or even worse: belief with massive amounts of evidence that contradicts the believers´ statements) is to him the same as either being naive, or willingly choosing ignorance – the worst thing one can possibly do in his opinion. Knowledge and the willingness to learn are virtues in his eyes.

Munin is most often seen with a scowl on his face. This more or less reflects his standard state of mind. He will not shows signs of positivity regarding others unless he has a legitimate reason to; his experiences has changed him into a rather pessimistic kiamara. He doesn´t easily open up to people, and has trust issues that sometimes border on paranoia. But it is possible to bring him out of his cynical bubble. A few things that may do the trick is: pleasant surprises, others displaying traits that he approves of, or them showing signs of positive interest in the things that interests him, mainly: history, literature and mysteries/crimes/forensic science. A candid thirst for knowledge will get you far. But the absolutely best way to get to his softer side is via humor. He loves dark humor, irony and clever sarcasm. The more witty the jokes, the better. He tends to pull off these kinds of jokes pretty regularly himself; despite his sour outer attitude and seemingly stale profession, he has an excellent sense of humor.

Writing is something he frequently uses as a way of relieving stress and putting his thoughts and ideas onto paper. Unlike the reports he writes in his profession, writing fiction allows him to use his imagination, and not only his power of deduction. He mostly writes mystery and crime novels. He hasn´t actually finished writing a single book so far, though, since he finds it hard to commit to a single story at a time. And even if he did finish one of them, it is unsure whether he would try to publish it. A part of him doesn´t want to draw any more attention towards himself from the public than what is necessary. The possibility of his past catching up to him is perhaps the thing that scares him the most out of everything, and so he is prepared to go to great lengths to make sure that never happens.


About his job
Munin is an academic historian, and he is proud of it. What he does is basically doing loads and loads of researching (read: reading) and then he sums up the different sources to come to some sort of conclusion about how it is likely that events played out. Often he likes to conduct his own tests and interviews and include these in his reports, if not centering the report solely on it. Before you decide to read something he has written for his work, be aware that he does not write for the general public. In other words: it is probably really complicated and boring as... Well, let´s just say you probably need to be a history nerd, or at least an academic, to appreciate his reports. But don´t be fooled - his research does actually contribute positively to the whole of society´s knowledge. And he is very quick to let you know that. Insulting or ridiculing his job is one of the worst things you could do. He will get rather upset - or dismiss you as a complete idiot. And once either of these things occur, you will not be getting back on his good side any time soon.

Munin will put a tremendous amount of effort into his work; hard work and efficiency are a couple more things that he holds in high regard. He is not one to settle for a decent job - he will do the best he possibly can, in order to come as close to the truth as possible. The fact that there isn´t a lot of money to be made in his occupation doesn´t bother him much.


What is up with the skull?!
While seeming odd, perhaps even creepy, to some, Munin thinks nothing weird of his accessory. He actually likes when people ask him about it, if not in a prejudging way, but rather an honest one. To him that shows signs of genuine interest in something he likes: a trait that is sure to give you a plus point in his book. But as for the skull: it´s actually not real, but a skillfully done replica, based off the only archeological finding of a complete skull belonging to a species somewhat closely related to kiamaras, perhaps even being a potential ancestor. He bears this skull as a tribute to archeology and the knowledge it contributes to history.

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Backstory:
Attention!
The following text is from a (secret) biography that Munin writes in his spare time, as a way of dealing with his past. Everything he writes regarding his own history is written on paper and either destroyed directly after completion, or stored away in places where he is certain that they will not be found. As an extra safety measure, no real names are ever given.

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The Child

xllI never was the type to go up to a stranger, or anyone really, and talk to them just out of kindness. If I ever did talk to them, it was either because I explicitly wanted something from them, or I was simply bored out of my mind. If anyone decided to talk to me, I would most often dismiss them with a grunt.
xllNeedless to say, this kind of behavior does not give you a lot of friends, something I discovered very early in life. Though to be honest, I didn´t mind it. Ever since I was very little, I preferred to be in my mother´s private library/study room, reading through stacks of books and listen to her tapping the keyboard as she wrote. We didn´t speak much – we both liked to concentrate on our own tasks in silence – but every once in a while I would come across a new word or event or idea that I didn´t understand and I would ask her about it. And she would stop her work at once, look at me and tell me exactly what it meant, without trying to sugarcoat it or simplify it more than what was needed. She had a strong belief that curiosity should be met with honesty.

xllI spent a majority of my childhood in that library, and when I was six I could have told you in great detail about a majority of topics one would not expect a six-year-old to know about. She didn´t keep any children´s books in there, obviously, but that didn´t stop me from going through almost the entire collection once she taught me the basics of reading at age three. I admired my mother, you see, and I wanted to be like her, to know what she knew.
xllEven before I started school, I could have read almost any academic text and understood the majority of it. Some people might have called me gifted, but to be honest it all came down rather to commitment than to natural talent. However, I liked the attention I received whenever I showed off my knowledge, whether it be in school or at one of my parent´s dinner parties over at our house in ______.

xllMy parents were precisely the kind of people one would expect to host dinner parties; big ones, and often. My mother was an acknowledged writer, of fiction as well as non-fiction. Her guests mostly consisted of other writers, of critics and of academics. My father, on the other hand, was a businessman. A very successful one too, even more successful than my mother. It was mostly thanks to him and his enterprises that we could live as economically unhindered as we could: a nice, big house, built especially for us, high-quality everything, fancy cars – you name it.
xllI found my father´s guests to be rather boring compared to my mother´s. All they ever talked about was money, money, money. On the occasions when they were the only guests present, me and my younger sister would sneak out in between the dinner courses and complain to each other about how boring they were. That was one of the few things me and my sister agreed on. She always was more lively and cheerful than me, and usually resented the dinner parties (since you had to sit still and behave for so long), no matter who was invited, while it varied for me. I did love showing off, and some of my mother´s guests were pretty entertaining. That is more than I can say about my school mates. During my entire time in school, I met perhaps two or three kias that on a few occasions showed signs of comprehension and critical thinking when I bothered to strike up a conversation with them. Or of a sense of humor that went above elementary school level.

xllI have already mentioned that I did not make friends easily, and never had. Well, school was no exception. My classmates thought strangely of me, some even disliking me enough to start picking fights - partly because I was different, but honestly most due to my inability to refrain from pointing out stupidity wherever I saw it. I generally tried to stay away from them when I could. Schooling itself seemed like a piece of cake for the most part due to my massive head start.

xllI didn´t stay in public school for long though. You see, when I was ten, my family (and my father especially) started receiving these threats. They came by email first, then by notes on my father´s office, and then those notes where slipped in with our personal mail or plastered on our property, or scribbled on the property itself. Throughout the process, the messages got more violent in nature and less veiled, until one day someone managed to pry open the garage door and spray-paint a blatant death threat to our family on my father´s car.
xllMy parents immediately withdrew me and my sister from school then, and we were instead given homeschool education. My father started working from home exclusively and my mother stopped attending book meet-ups and lectures. We pretty much isolated ourselves in our home. The incident also made the police have to take our case seriously. We were guarded twenty-four hours a day by at least a couple of officers for the time directly after the happening.
xllHowever, as weeks grew into months, and eventually into years, no assaults occurred and no new threats were made, and we were eventually disregarded. Even we more or less forgot about the events, or at least pushed them to the back of our minds, and things went back to normal. My sister went back to public school after a while, while I preferred to stay as a homeschool student.


Choosing to turn a blind eye to unpleasant facts may make you feel better at the moment,
but in the end it will get back at you. It always will.

- Munin


xllMy world was thrown upside down exactly two months after my fourteenth birthday. I wasn´t there when it happened. I can´t remember the exact reason to why I wasn´t at home – the memory was largely overshadowed – so today I can only speculate on it. It is not of importance, anyway.
xllWhen I came home that evening, there was a heavy silence hanging over the house. It made me uneasy at once. It was a different kind of silence from what could be achieved at our house. So instead of going straight to the library like I usually did, I started searching the house. And when I found them… Nothing can prepare you for something like that. It was as if everything that had been my life up to that moment was crumpled and thrown away.
xllI didn´t have the presence of mind to call the police. Instead I called the only person I could think of: my private teacher. He called the police in my place as soon as he understood what had happened, and got over to the house to meet up with me, just as the first officers arrived.

xllMy childhood ended for good that day. Even today, when I think back to the child I was before the event, I have trouble associating that kia with myself. Even though all my memories are intact and I am fully aware of the truth, it often feels like everything up to that day happened to a different person. My younger self have become very much a stranger to myself.


The Investigator

xllThe next two years can best be described as a vacuum. I lived under constant protection, having very little contact with the outside world. The police team that was investigating the murder on my family still had very little to go on, and from what I heard they weren´t making much progress at all. I was, understandably, constantly struggling with the trauma, and not being able to do anything, not even set paw outside when I wished to, was only making it more difficult to handle. Before this, I had never longed for the company of others, but now I felt lonely, truly lonely, for the first time in my life. The loneliness, the restlessness and the fear... They were always there.

xllTwo years had passed, and there seemed to be no end in sight. The murderer was still at large, still not feeling any consequences from their actions. I couldn´t take it anymore. I decided that I would not let the criminal get away, no matter what. He or she was to pay for their actions. If I had to take things into my own paws, then so be it.

xllWhen my parents died, I had inherited their possessions, including the house (even though I was strongly advised, if not ordered, not to go there, even after the on-site investigation was over) and their money. Despite that much of it would not technically be mine to use until I turned 18, I did have the key to the house.
xllWhen I got the opportunity, I sneaked out and travelled by bus to my childhood area. Being inside my old house again was a strange and unnerving experience. I resolved to stay there only as long as I had to. When I got inside, I headed straight for the library, like I had done so many times before, in a different life. There I found what I was looking for - the family safe. I hadn´t been supposed to know the combination, of course, but I had managed to come across it by accident once when I was reading. My mother had written it on a note and hidden it in one particular book out of the hundreds she kept in there. Now I picked out the correct one, read the code and opened the safe. I took as much cash and valuables as I could stuff into my backpack, closed the safe and headed back to the flat where I resided.

xllIt turned out my father wasn´t completely wrong after all - money does get you places (even though I was fairly sure his money-making was what got him killed in the first place). With my new currencies, I was able to get myself a brand new identity, one that even the police wasn´t aware of. To them, I simply informed that I wanted to be transferred to another region, and when I was no longer their responsibility to watch over, I could get away relatively easy. To this day, their records state that _______ _________ live in _________.

xllAs soon as I arrived at the new region, I was off on my task. I underwent a complete physical makeover, and did my best to shake off my mental identity too. I was literally becoming the cover I had chosen for myself. When I returned to the region which I had lived in for the 16 years of my life, I was a different kiamara, and I had the papers to prove it. I had dyed my fur and my hair, and even undergone some minor plastic surgery. Nobody who hadn´t known me personally for a longer amount of time could have recognized me. I was now ________ ______, educated investigating detective at twenty years of age.
xllAs you could guess, I applied to work with the case regarding my family´s murder. I wanted to deal with this myself. I needed to. It was the only way I could be certain that the case would not be dropped due to lack of evidence. Luckily for me, I was pretty tall for my age, and could pass for a young adult. But none the less, that wouldn´t matter unless I learnt the skills necessary for my profession before my boss or co-workers started to suspect me of being incompetent.
xllDue to this, I would go to work every day and do my best to help with the case, and in the evening when I returned to the small flat I was renting, I would go straight onto the internet and participate in the online classes that were needed. It´s a miracle nobody uncovered my lies - they really weren´t sophisticated there at the start.


The worst part about being undercover is that you can never be sure whether someone likes you,
or if they just like the person you pretend to be.

- Munin


xllMonths, and then years, passed by. We worked steadily, not only with this particular case of course, but it was the only one that really mattered to me. I did my best so that my co-workers wouldn´t realize this, not wanting them to ask why I would be so snowed in on this one case. I managed to keep the mask on. Even when it turned out that I, the child me that is, had been one of the main suspects (luckily, I was able to establish an alibi for my young self, so my disappearance was never uncovered), I kept a straight face. I played my fake identity so convincingly that at some point it truly became my identity, more than my child self was. But of course I knew it was a lie, deep down. And the people I worked with, some of which I truly started to care for, never knew it. It makes me wonder if what we had really meant anything.
xllThings went as far as that I could look at pictures from the crime scene - pictures of my dead family, of my little sister - and not feel anything in particular. The fact that I could scared me. Disgusted me.
xllBut still I kept the mask on. And one day, we solved it. It had taken us over four years, counted from when I joined the team, but we had solved it. New surveillance footage and communication records allowed us to identify the responsible one. Or one of the responsible ones, as it turned out. It was one of the business kias my father had worked with. Believe it or not, but I remembered him vaguely from my parents´ dinner parties. I am glad I never indulged in conversation with him. The murder of my father made that kiamara rich, but he hadn´t been the only one, so it wasn´t until the final bit of evidence that we had been anywhere near certain.
xllBut there was a snag: he hadn´t killed him personally, but instead hired an assassin to do his dirty work. And while the evidence was enough to have him sentenced, it did nothing to help us identify the assassin, and it stood clear that there was no evidence to be collected that would serve that purpose. So while the kiamara who had ordered and payed for the murder of my family (and assumedly mine too, had I been at home) was sentenced and punished, the kia who actually had their blood on his or her paws, was destined to walk free. Sometimes I think about him. Wonder what has happened to him, if he is alive to this day. How many more he has killed since then. Wonder what kind of person could kill an eleven year old girl in cold blood. What I would do if I found him.


The Historian

xllThe police reasoned that it would not yield results to go after the assassin, and so they declared the case solved; as solved as it could be. I don´t blame them. There was nothing to go on. It would have been foolish to continue.
xllI decided that there was nothing in it for me at the investigation office anymore, decided on it from the moment that my father´s business acquaintance was declared guilty. But still I stayed at work for a few more months, so that the connection between the two happenings would not be blatant to everyone. When I finally did leave, I had just turned twenty-one. Two months after my birthday. Exactly seven years after the murder of my family and the collapse of what had been my reality up to that point. I planned for it to be so. It was worth the risk that someone might notice that the dates were the same. But it was only right that if I was to lose my family on a specific date, then it would be at that same date, at a later time, that I finally let go of them.

xllAnd so I left everything behind, including the friends I had, or perhaps not had, made, as well as the city, my flat, my dye bottles, my (second) name and my (second) identity. The only things I kept was the cash and last of the valuables that I had got from my parents´ safe. A bit of money is always good when you want to change identity - I knew that from experience.
xllLeaving my co-workers was the most difficult part. They had managed to fill that hole I had felt after the death of my family. I was afraid that the sense of loneliness would return with them gone. But at the same time, I know that I could never have told them the truth. No, I had to start anew.

xllI started over again, similarly to how I had done the first time. Only this time I didn´t have a clear goal that I wanted to achieve. I longed for nothing more than to get a new life - a brand new life - and so I could choose whatever I wanted. I was by now a pretty decent investigator, having finished several online courses alongside my work as an actual investigator. But the thought of solving crime again filled me with aversion. I realized that I would never be able to break free from the past with that profession.
xllFinally, I settled for historian. The interest for reading and the thirst for knowledge had never truly left me, and now that I could do whatever I wanted with my life, researching was where I was headed. So I moved to New York, took up my studying, and bought a nice but humble flat for myself. And I changed my name to Munin - a name presumably meaning desire. Because desire is what has motivated me to move forwards - a desire for knowledge, for revenge (or justice - whatever you want to call it) and finally: for change.


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Why do I wish to become a co-owner?
I got my first (and so far only) kia, Onyx, earlier this year, and have since grown rather attached to the species and interested in its community. Seeing the wide diversity among kiamaras have made me long for another kia to call my own. Don´t get me wrong, I love Onyx to no end, but I would like to have another kia with a different approach to things. I imagined this kiamara to be a little more down to earth and "closed off", and perhaps not altogether as pleasant to be around. Munin seems to be perfect for this. Actually, I have been kind of admiring this kia from a distance, as you may call it. He is one of not that many kias that have managed to spark my imagination from the moment I set eyes on him, and I do believe he has potential due to this. Co-owning seems like a good idea to me, as I believe it would engage me in the community in a more concrete way than full ownership. I´ve never co-owned a character with somebody before, but I think that it would be a rather fun experience, seeing as two people can contribute to and develop the same character, and perhaps make it into something that neither person would have been able to think up by themselves.

And by the way, I am incredibly sorry for the walls of text in this form. :lol: I just really wanted to tell this story. Had I had more time on my hands, I would have done more to lighten up the form, perhaps added a bit more art, but I wanted to focus on the story and character depiction foremost. Hope you enjoyed reading it anyway!


Credits:
Raven/crow brush used for the image in the quote by Obsidian Dawn
All art and text belongs to me unless otherwise stated
Last edited by TessyTheWolf on Mon Sep 14, 2015 9:55 am, edited 28 times in total.
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Re: Free Kiamara(s) Co-ownership Contest

Postby ❌ DYNAMIGHT ❌ » Mon Aug 10, 2015 3:15 pm

maybe unnamed <3
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Re: Free Kiamara(s) Co-ownership Contest

Postby elyx » Tue Aug 11, 2015 8:53 am

marking
maybe entering??
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      elyx#5347 | she/they
      . my kalonsdA©
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    xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
    x
    x
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    always looking for:
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Re: Free Kiamara(s) Co-ownership Contest

Postby wickedbvnes » Tue Aug 11, 2015 9:09 am

mark for lair. unw u
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lair

Postby eli ayase » Tue Aug 11, 2015 9:13 am

//LAIR //



" if you play with the bee, you get the sting "

When you look unlike the other kiamaras, its hard to hide your face or your body. It seems almost impossible.
But to Lair, a facade is almost always in tact. She's a criminal. A thief. It started in the small downs in desert
oasis towns, but soon evolved into city stealing and theft. She took a plane to Japan, where she lives now. She
since then learned out to take things from others in public areas. Her obsession started off small, stealing candy
from receptionist desks or spare change that someone left out. Soon, she evolved into a kleptomaniac and began
stealing wallets, diamonds, and other treasures.
history ///

history is nothing but
time, and time... it
doesn't even exist
Last edited by eli ayase on Wed Aug 12, 2015 8:35 am, edited 1 time in total.
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