Kiamara Free Adopt — Mensay Twin #1 — WINNERS

[mi ainsel]

LINDSAY X MENHIT TWIN FREE ADOPT
I have always wanted to hold one of these, and who better for that possibly the most interesting family of my bunch, the Marais-Tau couple!~ Now the Mensay twins are here and I've chosen the one I'm keeping, their sibling is now a free adopt!





They were designed by Paintchu, have edited hair, and green eyes with black sclera under that hair :3

END DATE
Hey, why don't we say the Ides of March? I will be open to extension requests towards the end~
Extension requests have been heard! The one and only extension is now until Saint Patrick's Day, at 12 noon GMT.


18 - 03 - 16


To adopt this little one, just fill in the form below~ Please be aware that, although this is an impress me, the real key focus of your form should be their relationships and history - what place they have in the Kiaminal universe.

FORM


Code: Select all

[b]Username:[/b]
[b]Name:[/b]
[b]Gender:[/b]
[b]Personality:[/b]
[b]History:[/b] (child - teen - adult)
[b]Relationships:[/b] (all but immediate family are optional - you choose who they know best)
IMPRESS ME!~



RULES
• Prettying up of forms is allowed and encouraged, just make sure the main body of text is a dark colour or grey for ease of reading.
• This Kia may NOT be traded. If you win and later lose connection please return them to me.
• Stay at least semi-active with them! On CS, dA or the forum is fine, but I don't want them to rot.
• If you have questions about the family etc go here.

BONUS POINTS
• Family art!
• Well developed relationships especially with close family
• A history that ties in with the rest of the family
• Clear character concept
• A name that fits with the family! Menhit and Sekhmet are both the names of war goddesses, but really anything to fit their ancestry (South African/Egyptian) will score you major points in my book.
• Asking lots of questions! My ask.fm link is in the rules section, feel free to drop in and ask whatever.
• Long, well-written forms

CLOSE FAMILY
The Marais-Tau Family


Lindsay Marais - mother
Old associate and partner in crime to the notorious Lioness, Menhit Tau, Lindsay is a jack of all trades in the criminal underworld with a rather special difference. When things go wrong on a job — assassinations fail, gangs are pinned down, crew members captured — Lindsay is the one they call to sort everything out. With a 100% track record and skills in everything ranging from sniping to hacking, never has a non-specialist been so highly prized in the underworld.
Outside and even during work, she is bubbly and excitable, a spirited and driven Kiamara with a fiery passion for life and her skills. She even gained the nickname 'Firebird' for her flaming enthusiasm and supposed inability to be killed, regardless of job difficulty. She's difficult to faze and takes everything in her stride without a hitch, with a permanently brilliant grin never leaving her face.
Firebird got her name partly for the fact she always seemed to arrive quickest to cleanups at the scenes of explosions. It was simply attributed to her having some kind of thing for flames, but in fact the opposite was true. Lindsay is terrified of fire. She is terrified that one day she'd be called to a mission gone wrong at an explosion and the casualty would be Menhit Tau, her mentor gone spouse.


Menhit Tau - parent
Never has there been a more fitting name than that of the infamous Menhit Tau, the Lioness. 'One who massacres' - indeed xe does. A demolitions expert famed amongst the criminals of the city for xyr ability with explosives and destruction, this cotton candy-haired Kia may look sweet but is truly not to be messed with. Though xe doesn't technically run with a crew, xe has a certain... friendly rivalry with the sniper Vanoan Æthelind and their partner-in-crime, combat medic Mitch Caelix, and used to act as a mentor of sorts for 'Firebird' Lindsay Marais, before the two became a little too close to be professional...Xe loves cats, and despite xyr imposing profession and tendencies towards pyromania are a excitable and enthuastic, loving Kiamara who is fiercely loyal to xyr family.


Sekhmet Marais-Tau - twin
Sekhmet is a contradiction, the exuberant violence-loving child of Lindsay and Menhit... With a debilitating fear of fire? It seems she takes most after her mother, for whilst she certainly inherited Menhit's wild spirit and love of demolitions she isn't very fond of being anywhere near the explosives. Sekhmet is no generalist like her mother, instead she's clearly a frontman with a fondness for learning. She's the one you want at your side during negotiations, the sure fire way to win any contest of manipulation and yet her understanding of Lindsay's many skills mean she is perfectly in sync with everyone she works with.
She's always bouncy and rather silly at times, hard to throw off her stride and always smiling. Her curiousity leads her into many a sticky situation, but she's always confident her friends and family will save her in the end.

EXTENDED FAMILY
The Kiaminal Family


There's a bar on the less desirable side of Sirena city with no name and no need of one. It's a place new people don't need to learn of, because if you are in need of it then the chances are you are already well acquainted with the place.
It's not somewhere you'd go for a quiet drink or a date, and yet not somewhere you were likely to get mugged unless the mugger really wanted to die horribly.
The owner and bartender has their own share of legends, a certain Mx Araceli Rendón — Spanish born, with dark-sclera'd eyes, a tiny frame and an attitude like a volatile explosive. It's how the bar got its nickname 'Fireworks'.
That and the sheer quantity of danger ever present in the aura of the place.



There's a very close knit community amongst those known as the Kiaminals, a strange bunch of the very best of the criminal underworld often found at the Fireworks bar.

Furfur — the shadowy informant known as the Fallen Angel with a million stories surrounding him. Somewhat of a legend amongst the underworld.
Furfur, known to many unsavoury sorts as simply the 'Fallen Angel', is a seemingly emotionless manipulative informant on his own agenda, known as a socially incapable Kiamara with a particularly dark mindset, the ability to mimic personalities and a rather bizarre love of manipulating people. He is believed by most to be an actual fallen angel seeing as he was found in the forest as a child, surrounded by white feathers that had turned black, and there are many whispers that he killed those who found him to keep this secret. He delights in adapting to potential dangers, whether through gathering information, manipulation or perhaps as far as causing harm, though he's not usually the type to carry out what he considers the dirty work, leading most Kiamaras to label him a psychopath. With his calculating mind he seems to be able to talk his way out of any situation, though with his habit of annoying powerful people one can only wonder how long his luck will last.

Murmur — sister to the Fallen Angel, a compulsive liar, con-artist and well known criminal contact known as the Risen Demon.
Murmur, the even more mysterious older sibling of the informant Furfur. Where he is known to the criminal word as 'the Fallen Angel', she is his counterpart 'the Risen Demon'. She is an incredible pavement artist, able to blend in to any crowd and vanish in an instant, and can adopt an entirely new persona in the blink of an eye, making her almost impossible to identify. Every bit as manipulative and charming as Furfur, few resist her persuasions.
Those who believe her brother is an actual fallen angel were equally quick to label her as a demon come to earth for the way she simply appeared in the same forest, surrounded by bloodied black feathers and with brilliant crimson eyes. She carved a bloody path to the city and claims to mainly be looking out for her brother, but this enigmatic Kiamara's true intentions are, as always, inscrutable. Perhaps it runs in the family.

Cry Delphini — a suspected killer and close friend of Furfur's with a rather enthusiastic sense of humour and an unusually bubbly personality.
Cry is a curious one, best described as minxish and oddly personable. If there's a way to cheat at it, she's already found it, and probably improved on it tenfold. She's almost genius-level quick at things involving cheating, hiding or deceiving anyone, including close friends, and likes to tell elaborate lies in the form of stories. She finds everything funny, even things that don't seem it to anyone else, and has a very distinctive laugh. She has a tendency to be up to no good, and will occasionally say or do the odd almost psychopathic thing, but her worryingly high strategic ability, skill at lying, and constant amusement seem to keep her out of the majority of trouble. She is always grinning, though in a vaguely frightening way.
But is she a friend or a slightly psychopathic maniac? Well, usually both. Rumours say looking at which colour wristband she is wearing over the other will give you the answer. But she really only ever wears the red one on top. Maybe that says something about your question. Just... never trust her, or you'll be the one in tears.

Free Lilitu — the mute assassin with a penchant for emojis. She and her girlfriend, street fighter Ariana Quinn, are often found wherever there's trouble in the city.
None would guess from her appearance that this sweet hearted party girl is actually the feared assassin known as Kitten. Free likes it better that way, though she never really hides her work from anyone who knows her, to the point where she's essentially dropping hints in the hope they'll figure it out on their own. Not to say that she actually tells them, since she can't (or doesn't, no-one really knows) talk. Instead, Free gets her point across entirely in non-verbal body language, (and the occasional written note/sign language/mouthing for those who don't get this) mostly just a single look that somehow conveys whole sentences. It's a skill that has most of the people she knows convinced she's telepathic. She's mentioned before that it makes it difficult for her enemies to get information out of her, but whether this is a joke or from an actual event in her past that made her mute is unknown. It's hard to determine humour without tone, even with Free's prevalent use of emoticons in her notes and texts. She's quite closed about most of her life and likes a joke, particularly when people take her seriously, so the general consensus is that it's not true.
Amusingly enough considering her name, she's a talented traceur, an ability that she uses regularly in order to be the best at her job. Outside of her job though, she can often be found practising her skills or casually running the rooftops of the city as her 'morning jog'.

Danaë Quinn — child of a street fighter and an assassin, she and her twin brother Arick are well known bodyguards and mercenaries for hire.
Independent and strong Danaë, truly the child of famous street fighter Ariana Quinn and the infamous assassin 'Kitten'. She's a well balanced and cunning Kiamara, always searching for the easiest way out of tough situations, and is well able to handle herself if things go south thanks to both her parents' backgrounds. Deciding not to follow in the footsteps of Free and Ariana, Danaë makes her living as a bodyguard, and occasional mercenary, for hire. She likes the close knit community of the Kiamara criminals, and is almost considered street royalty for her bloodline.
Danaë has very little respect for civilians.

Araceli Rendón — owner of the Fireworks bar, a tiny but fierce Spanish Kiamara who the regulars would all fight to defend.
Araceli runs a bar on the... less desirable side of town. It's a state that shows in its regular customers, a frequent hangout for the mercenary nicknamed Serpent, Mitchy the combat medic, the mute assassin-for-hire Kitten, a certain giggly female traceur/possible serial killer and even an occasional glimpse of the informant known as the Fallen Angel. It's a place of peace despite its less than lawful regulars though — even the gangs know not to cross the bar's tiny owner with their sharp tongue, burning gaze and the countless notorious criminals that would willingly do harm to anyone who threatened them. Despite their small size, the Hispanic Kiamara is a fierce, fiery personality with biting sarcasm and a great sense of adventure. Their love to always be at the heart of the gossip with their finger firmly on the pulse led to the creation of their bar, a safe space for illegal information to circulate. Everybody knows if you need to find someone, you ask Araceli, or at the very least head to their bar to find out. They definitely know how to handle themselves despite not exactly being an active participant of the criminal underworld, either through their friendly relationships with their talented regulars or as a by-product of some long forgotten criminal lifestyle. No-one can quite muster up the courage to ask.

Vanoan Æthelind — cocky mercenary sniper with a love for music.
Vanoan is a rather cocky Kiamara, confident in themselves and their own abilities. They are sharp-witted and easily amused, almost childish in their humour and is often the voice of reason to those around them. They are genderfluid and switch between their birth name of Vanessa and the self-chosen Vanoan depending on what gender they identify with that day — Vanoan for agender/male days and Vanessa for female days - though most call them Van.
They are competitive and yet would gladly throw even the most important competition to spend time with their friends, being the sort that values the people around them above all else. Vanoan is a very physical Kiamara who enjoys exercise greatly and can often be found showing off.
Very few people would guess from first appearance or even from knowing them that this bubbly, sharp and pleasant Kiamara is a mercenary, a hired gun with little concern over the morals of their job. Vanoan is well known as one exceptionally skilled with a sniper rifle and indeed most guns, and can often be found with a rifle over their shoulder and one headphone in their ear. The sheer normality of their life and social circle keeps them grounded though, and their best friend and platonic soulmate Mitchy keeps them well out of the worst of the trouble.

Mitch 'Mitchy' Caelix— combat medic and Van's very protective boyfriend/bodyguard.
Childhood friend of Vanoan, Mitchy is a rather imposing-looking civilian Kia who somehow manages to deflect even the worst kinds of trouble from his mercenary friend's path. He's a tattoo artist by trade, though he's gained a bit of a reputation as a fearsome fighter and off-the-radar medic, and in truth, is much softer than he appears. He worries a lot about those he cares about, particularly Van, and would do anything to help those in need. He's saved the life of several prominent Kiamara criminals, not least his best friend. However, he is determined not to drag anyone into the mess of a criminal lifestyle he's accidentally already a part of. Anyone who wanted to get close to him would most likely have to already be in the criminal underworld or at least familiar with it, and they'd certainly have to get along with Van.

Lashay Emerald — model turned thief extraordinaire.
Beautiful Lashay Emerald, former model turned thief. Messing with her because she looks like an easy target will just give you a broken wrist for your troubles. She's sassy and self-confident in both her abilities, looks and attitude, and none of them without grounds. Nothing can faze her, and she's very much aware of how to use her charms to manipulate. Despite this, she is just a slightly materialistic thrill seeker who loves the rush of a heist and reactions to her beauty. Though arrogant, she is not shallow and is in reality very friendly with the rest of the Kiaminals, sort of like their young, rich aunt who's always willing to fund a job. She lives in the city suburbs with her son Tadashi.

Tadashi Emerald — the sweetest dead shot in existence, only son of Emerald.
Child of famed supermodel turned brilliant thief Lashay Emerald and an absent military woman, Tadashi was always destined for a life of violence. Raised singlehandedly by Lashay, he gained great respect and admiration for the Kiamara criminal families and knew he didn't want to leave it behind. The gentle, sweet and kind Kiamara who everyone thought a weak link stunned the underworld as he reinvented himself as a mercenary with quickly-infamous marksmanship.
He is honestly the sweetest Kia who must be protected... And he's a mercenary. Who doesn't miss.

Iskra Sindre — relaxed getaway driver.
It is no secret that Iskra Sindre had a rather awful childhood. From neglectful parents to attempts on his life, he'd been through a lot even as a teenager. What does come as a surprise, however, is that despite all this, he's still one of the sweetest guys around. Confident but not cocky, brave but not foolhardy. Always willing to help others, and a soft-spoken, polite Kia in general.
He's also one hell of a driver... And a pilot. You need a getaway driver? You hire Iskra.
It's the only surefire way to make sure you'll get out alive.
Unlike the usual stereotypical criminal, Iskra simply likes the thrill of the chase and is not really involved in much other than the odd grand theft auto when left to his own devices. He just likes to drive and fly and do it fast, easily escaping any pursuers.
He's a sweetheart with a wild spirit, a less than legal job description, and a deep-seated hunger for the feeling of freedom.

Khthonia Incarnadine — The ruler of the underworld, fitting considering their name. They would fight to the death to protect their mate, Nycthemeral.
Khthonia Incarnadine; Persephone in scarlet. They truly live up to their namesake in the minds of those around them - this fierce, enthusiastic and brash Kiamara seems the very embodiment of the Queen of Hell. They are rather cocky and a bit of a flirt despite their frightening appearance and the fact they don't make much time for romance. They also have bipolar disorder and others often mark when their mood is about to switch based on how many fights they attempt to start.
Though their job and appearance are both frightening and give off the impression they are heartless, Khthonia adores Nycthe above anything else on the planet and would do anything to make them happy and protect them.

Thaumé Nycthemeral — 'Seer' and martial artist, civilian partner to Khthonia.
The first word that comes to mind when describing Nycthe is frightened. Despite their dark and almost imposing colours they are almost constantly afraid of something, be it phobias or paranoia. They often seem lonely even when it appears they have friends, prefers to be alone and yet is afraid of being forgotten.
Tempestuous and with strong moral views, they are blazing, furious energy given form, made dull by the world and the demands of life; it is as if they simply cannot fit into the place in life they have been allotted. Others see them as bad luck and so, despite their hatred of superstition, they reinvented themself in that image; someone beyond luck and fate.
Their awkwardness and unusual nature make them easily dismissed, something they loathe. Nycthe is at constant war with themself, torn between keeping up trying to fit in despite the torment it causes them, or remaining true to themself and obtaining some form of happiness. Khthonia is their main source of support, and they would willingly die or kill for them.

[slasher // twig]

Username: twig
Name:
Gender:
Personality:
History: (child - teen - adult)
Relationships: (all but immediate family are optional - you choose who they know best)
IMPRESS ME!~

extreme resssss mmm

[CLUMSY]

Username:
Name:
Gender:
Personality:
History: (child - teen - adult)
Relationships: (all but immediate family are optional - you choose who they know best)
WIP RES AH

[foxxbreath]

a criminal in the books

Username: ten thousand
Name: benvolio
Gender: demiboy
Personality:
History: (child - teen - adult)
Relationships: (all but immediate family are optional - you choose who they know best)
IMPRESS ME!~

mark !!

mute ?? Maybe ?? Uh
Rlly likes ocean views. does al Capone wrote books? No? Uhh maybe lives reading stories and biographies abt criminals yeah
Shakespeare lmao
Very,,,,,creative mind. all criminals (or serial killers even tho Ben isn't a killer ATM) do

Mor distant from his family, prefers to hide away with old dusty books with old crime records and try finding the flaws in old criminals' tactics

also fairly skilled in charcoal art. Favorite is willow chatcoal

Specializes in tonics n stuff
One sarcastic boy

[star note]

click for my form^^ i tried my best with what time i had due to putting forth
a lot of time and effort into a singing competition (which was on Wednesday
march 16th) but ive also been sick and had to go through multiple doctors
to figure out what was going on. thankfully everything sort of wrapped up in
time for me to try and complete my form. i will certainly write further if
given the chance ;o; thank you for this opportunity and good luck everyone!

[Chimericect]

Mark!
not gonna try, jut gonna watch and possibly help or somehing uwu

[Nines]

mark

[Offended Cockatiel]

Look at this poor boy
All dressed up in white
Now how can he smile
With a face of all eyes
He wanders the night
Through smears and words snide
Spinning round and round
His precious mind
Like dizzy neon lights

"Hello miss...? What's wrong?"

"I've been shot ..."

Between the aqueous dark magenta of a painted sky and the trumpet of footsteps so scaffolded and deranged they sounded akin to physical grunge against cement, little droplets of red liquid began falling. She was and wasn't alone, and neither really was her benifactor when her body flooded the streets with her own blood, leaned down against a wall until her shape formed a collapsed, and rather upside down, 'L'. The tailing steps of her, extensively horrendous, entourage murmured, barraged... Close, closer, touching upon breathing distance and distanced once more... subsided into fading.


There were those people who could not be persuaded to step into hospitals even if they were paid enough money to drown them whole, until cash was all they saw in their friends faces up until hysteria hit. These individuals had fear and distrust riddled through circulatory arteries like water through a river, the though of such a place, and the connotative description of hospitals as a whole, drove them away at Mach speeds. She was one of those special individuals. Petra had a habit of going on and on about the unmistakable, self-disturbed subject. "Couldn't catch me dead in a hospital," the naturally distressed murmur on her lips sold it. Although recounting the moments that led to her ducked in an alleyway 73 miles from home, clutching her gut, made her think she mite as well have to make that choice... between being caught dead or in a hospital. Hospitals were institutes, just as schools and parliament, and she rarely got along in a classroom to be able to listen to someone touching her wounds for the sake of work. The institutes caused too much trouble for what they were worth, asked too many questions, expected too many answers, and those internalized answers were the strand of safety that very much so kept her alive and safe. Hospitals mite as well have been the worst of the bunch of anything.

Wavering the medicinal stench, she'd sauntered with twisting trembles towards the white tiled floor, towards the front desks, picked up a slightly worn down pencil with a beige faded tinge, tied to a string that made its way windindly to the underside of the attendance desk, and stared at a stack of information sheets. There was blankness in her gaze. The girl on the other side, baby blue uniform and all, tended to ignore things unless they began biting her in the face, and to her luck, Petra's glossy, large eyed gaze had a tendency to always be biting at prey. So, when their eyes locked, and they did so for many traumatizing seconds, the ideas she'd been taught to process, all about concern and empathy, well, they rang clear.

"Hello miss...? What's wrong?"

And that's when she collapsed.

https://em.wattpad.com/ab063b08ebe6f5d6 ... w=360&q=80
https://media.giphy.com/media/8DM9FSJkBHpEQ/giphy.gif

I'm the one that keeps the folds stitched together, I'm not the communal figure, I'm the one who shows too much, tries to shut myself down and stitch you all up.

The Unveiled Suture

Username: Offended Cockatiel
Name: Addo [King of the road]
Title: "Petra" - Due to her ability to hide certain emotions until beneficial
Marais-Tau
Gender: Genderfluid [No preference on pronouns, usually referred to as they, or she]
Occupation: ??? Staying out of trouble, whatever makes money, quick term healing jobs [like very quick, good for being on the move, but a doctors prognosis is needed as soon as one can be found] and racing around mostly
Personality:

It was quiet and still, always was.

"You have no ID, no files, no nothing. We can't find anything on you. Please, tell us who you are... "


"My 'best friend' had amnesia, I think I'll have it too."

Addo is the borderline child, neither truly tender, nor utterly murderous. Moreso, the child born just to live. And live she does, she has a particular penchant for it actually. Undoubtably she's the type to get into dangerous situation upon dangerous situation, and come out from the smoke, right before death snatches her away. Unscathed. Bullets will fly by her body searching for targets and there she'll be, a step, skip, hop, too far from their reaches. She gets off on that purely moment oriented feeling that appears.

Addo is the fast speaking switch who relays messages between her family and and her family friends, always moving about and untraceable, with a developed aristocracy of lilted vocabulary, with the ability to speak into oblivion in perfectly annunciated paragraphs. She takes time to price herself how well her abilities hurdle her forward, a little bit of ego forms when the thought of sidestepping trouble comes into her mind. Quick on her feet, able to speak with a flicker of the tongue, flashing ideas with the snap of the fingers, Addo works with speed. It's her very greatest strength.

very into formulated plans of any kind.

Just a little too invested in the passiona of danger, born to remain alive and always working for that right, Addo has trained to fight for her life no matter the situation she gets into. There's quick thinking, and there are quick fists, and they pair nicely in delicate intervals, she knows this.

Most aspects of her life are a bit of a habit, things that became routine once she hit her mid-teens. This, jumping into anything that fits her fancy, is too ingrained into her mannerisms to be let go of. It's who she is, a foible.


Cherry bomb or peach bomb?
toss up of
Was very shy as a child- now is a fast talking devil
Easy crier back then, easy crier now
A will to live, someone born to live and always fighting for it
Tender, with vulnerability
Fashion forward
Money oriented
Sometimes shows her emotions too clearly, training herself to not show certain emotions until beneficial- Petra
butterfly knife- hands in

Bomb expert
Amazing at selling wares

History: (child - teen - adult)

Petra, as she prefers to be called, though back then unmistakably known as Addo, lived the innocent childhood life one sees in tv. As far as she knew "mommy" and "nana" did run of the mill parent things on a day to day basis. Buying the milk, building pillow forts with her, letting her sneak into their bed when she heard scary monster noises, and she heard a lot, those little trivial things that parents stereotypically are known for.

The idea of anything else flew right over her head. Back then she was an immensely miserable crier, cried over everything, found reasons to stick out her lip and feel the fear flow over her and out. She was that little kid hiding behind nana's legs, face shadowed behind locks of hair, pressed against the back of jeans, fingers holding on so tightly to the fabric that her nails practically pinched holes.

It wasn't for the attention, which, in fact, she found to be an unhappy factor to her crying. It just was what it was. Nowadays she likes to comment, jokingly, that as a child she was crying for all of those days she would feel it a need when she turned an adult. She was crying back then because it would have been okay, excusable because she was young and small, and because she'd never, almost never, let herself cry by the age of 21. Her tears were in their own way her healing factors.

Other than crying though, Addo also habitually got lost. Of course with the family affiliations she had and with the abilities of both parents the little wanderer always found her way back. She'd waddle off if not kept at constant beckon, find herself blocks away from home at seven AM because everyone was sleeping as she was bored. At eight years of age

This grew with her well into adulthood, this sort of walking away in a distant haze, it's a part of why she knows usual landscapes so well, it's all back logged in her brain from curious walking.

Her childhood was a manner of vast days, filled with ignorance, crying, hiding and excusing odd situations for little flicks of abnormality.

Started crawling- 7 months
First steps- 15 months
First word- "Semt" ie. Sekhmet

Play date #1- 2 years, Da
Met Iskra- 4 years of age, Addo thought it'd be fun to walk away from her brother and she were playing in unannounced
Minor discrepancy #1- Age 5, mommy and nana set up a play date with Danäe, what are emojis and why does her mom use so many?

Feathers
The queens and kings of gold

Relationships: (all but immediate family are optional - you choose who they know best)


Lindsay: Lindsay has her life together more than Petra's able. Petra watches, and has watched, her go day on day in an unbeatable chain. Whatever is supposed to make her mother crumble only let's on a small scratch, a stumble, a slight scuff, and it almost drives her green eyed daughter mad. Petra works to be just as her mother is, capable to inhuman extent, taking things to a point of distortion, mismatching how high up on a pedestal her mother truly is. Since birth, Addo's always been attached to their "mama", so much so that its as if she were an extra limb, always there peeking out, watching whatever her mother does with targeted concentration. It's let on that Lindsay's mopp haired daughter easily sees her bubbly, excitable personality all with dire appreciation. She describes Lindsay as the forever grinning, bright and beautiful mama who has a miraculus ability to rescue three people from the laws grasp, all while on time for her school recital. The strands though are frayed, they have been ever since Addo's teenage youth. Mama can only be so much before she becomes someone to loathe, someone she can't help being envious of, and still Petra holds Lindsay in a distorted view, higher up on a pedestal than even she deserves to go, and her child knows it.


IMPRESS ME!~

[yeena]

WIP FORM STILL ; D ;

Clinging tightly to his mother's leg, a child was walked inside a sly looking bar. Though, if one knew enough about the place, they could conclude that the bar wasn't full of anything that should be flagged. The place was a tight knit family though, nothing that was full of hate crimes and offenses. The place wasn't one to be afraid of... unless you knew what kind of family this was exactly, they weren’t a force to be reckoned with, to say the least. The small child knew nothing though, and thus he kept clinging to his mother’s leg. He didn’t like the faint grins and stares he got from the people around him and couldn’t help his bottom lip from quivering, he also couldn’t help the wetness starting to build up in his eyes. He couldn’t help anything and he totally wasn’t scared.

Feeling a hand shuffled through his curly orange hair he screeched and clawed at his parent’s leg, trying to send the signal of ‘pick me up now’. His mother quickly got the hang of his signals and swooped him up lovingly, holding him tight to her chest and cooing out words comfortably. Tears were streaming down his face and he was quivering in his parents grip, their other parent now with their crying child. The mother, the well-known ‘Firebird’, Lindsey Marais, was grinning softly down at her youngest child, nose rubbing against his in an attempt at calming him down. It seemed to work reasonably well. The other parent, Menhit Tau, had their eyes masked but was clearly worried in someway. Their tail was fluffed out slightly. The other various kias in the bar, at the time, did not matter. One day the youngster would learn their names and he would be fine, but as of now they were just the staring crowd.

His tears soon stopped running down his cheeks, now just damp streaks in their wake. His cries calmed down to soft sniffles. He was caught up in burying his nose into his mother’s neck now. She kept him cuddled up in her arms, his slim body fitting in rather comfortably. Menhit slowly walked along with their partner, head turning every once in awhile to look at the quiet child. The child’s sibling had attended the meet, and was running around excitedly, unaware as to what was happening. Crazy kid. Raising her head up after a bit, Firebird trotted towards a table and sat down, some coming over and standing around the table, looking at the newest addition to the family. Menhit seemed weary about the slow build-up of the family around them and the kid as they sat down.

After hearing soft whispers about it, Firebird raised her head, rocking the small child now. “ His name is Hansel. “




He listened intently to the memory... he didn't recall most of it. He could vaguely remember nothing. What a surprise. His mother seemed to pick up on his confusion and simply rolled her eyes, turning away for a brief second to inspect something on a paper before turning back to him, her eyes glimmering with that common happiness he loved and adored in his mother. She always managed to just... make him feel happy. Even without trying. Somehow he felt so very lucky to have a teacher such as herself, she was a one in a million person and he just... loved it about her. She stood as a teacher and a best friend to him, always there to just snuggle him when needed. In turn for her being there for him, he was always there for her. He always called up every day to make sure she was okay, and if his the Lioness was away he would go and sit with his mother wherever she was, just to hold her hand and tell her that her partner (and his parent) would be okay and would get home to be with the family soon. He felt a hand move over to ruffle his hair playfully, eliciting a rather girlish squeal from him as he swatted his mother's hand away from his head, being yanked out of his thoughts.

" Let's try another memory then. "




The second attempt at introduction went better than the last; he still did start to shake vividly upon walking through the door being held open ever so kindly by his parent, and he was holding onto his tail to the point of which his knuckles were turning pale. His mother glanced behind her here and there, keeping a close eye on Hansel walking behind her. The Lioness was watching carefully over the orange furred child from behind, their hair masking their true looks though. He kept his eyes downcast, following the sway of his mother’s tail fluff. He could hear mumbles and whispers surging around the room at his arrival… he felt the hot sting of tears building up. There was no reason to cry and yet… he felt almost pressured. He was born into the team and yet was nothing like them.

The Lioness must’ve noticed something, as he felt two hands comfortingly start rubbing his shoulders. The touches were not urging him on in any way and he shook his head slightly, messy orange curls bouncing around. Okay. He was starting to feel better at the soothing touches… until he looked up and saw the eyes on him. He panicked then and lunged away from the Lioness’ touches, reaching out for his mother’s tail with a loud whine. She jumped almost under his touch but relaxed when she realize it was simply Hansel. He wasn’t crying but his face was bright red and blotchy, ears flattened against his head as well. He glanced behind him, looking at his pink haired parent. They had a frown across their face and looked worried. He managed to know his parent by their movements.

Raising his head up very slowly, he prayed his hair was hiding his eyes. He knew it wasn’t though… the tips of his bangs were still just flickering over the top of his wide eyes. If his eyes didn’t portray his feelings perfectly, his stumbling actions would. Though all of the faces and eyes turned towards him made him burn with fear and made him shake all the way down to his bones, he managed to look on the brighter sides of things. Nobody was glaring at him, they were all smiling and some were even cheerfully mouthing out ‘hello’s’. He actually found himself giving a shaky smile around before quickly turning his head back down and being a bright red-faced kia. His mother soon reached their normal sitting spot and gently tugged him down to sit next to her.

Quietly keeping his eyes down he flinched at every newcomer that came over; mostly to simply discuss random topics with his mother that he didn’t understand. His other parent, Lioness, was sitting across from them and turning their head to every new being, He treasured the concern and could only appreciate the head turns of the Lioness. How was he seeing all of this ? His eyes were literal magic at times. He didn’t truly turn his head up until a hand was being placed down in front of his nose on the table. Hansel jumped at the hand; shaking wildly once again when looking up. He didn’t know this kia, they were a stranger, they wanted to stab him didn’t they ? Oh crikey. He needed to call for his mom- “ And what’s your name ? One of the Firebird’s and Lioness’ cub-chickling ? “

The question went out on empty air before he finally gulped down the wad of silence in his throat. “ M-my na-name is Han-hand-sel.. “




His eyes sparkled brightly; yes, yes ! He did remember that memory. It was very, very vague but he did remember some of it. Mostly the part about being asked his name… what an influential memory honestly. His mother must’ve noticed that sudden pip in his posture; or maybe she just could see right through his mop of hair. She did have to handle the Lioness with their mane. She seemed almost bemused with his reaction, a small smile crossing her face as always. Her smiles were just as good as her happy twinkling eyes… aha. Lovely mother. Again, she looked over a document briefly before pushing them all aside and leaning back in her worn down chair, rubbing at her eyes with her hands. She made an overly dramatic sigh and watched as he mimicked her position, pushing his feet up onto her desk. Hansel looked right over at his mother, watching her face shift from comfort to horror at his muddy and slightly bloody boots on her desk. She leaned over and gently started to bat down on his leg with her hand, making him laugh as he quickly removed his feet from her desk. Oh gosh he seriously loved to mess with his mother when he got the perfect chances to. It was awfully fun. Her reactions were priceless.

“ Hansel A. Marais-Tau I taught you better ! “




The book was pushed aside after a bit, the small child reading it having his eye’s stinging by now. He tended to read too much anyway… he needed to take a break anyhow. Looking over at his mother sitting across from him, he watched her sipping at a cup of… drink, patiently. After taking a long sip, she took another few seconds to gulp the liquid down before professionally wiping at her mouth with her sleeve. Her eyes spoke one word and he nodded; he had finished the pages he had to read. The book was awfully boring, nothing like the romances he read, but it was indeed teaching him how to fend for himself in life. It was some kind of self-defense book and… it was pretty good at telling him what to do. Perking his ears up, he watched as his mom grabbed some paper. Hm ?...

“ Okay so, Hanny, “ the name was a playful nickname. He had gained it various bar meets because someone once slurred out ‘Hanny’ instead of ‘Hunny’ and everyone tied the name in with him… long story short. He adored his family lovingly using the title alone… as for others ? He didn’t really feel comfortable with the title being used by them but, out of respect and not wanting to ruin the fun for everyone, he kept his mouth shut and could only turn his head when the name was called. “ -Where are the best places to strike ? “ he thought over the choices in his mind, referring back to the long bodies of text for help. Best places to strike ? Hm. There were a few. It all just depend on how tall you were and… basically just your physical form. He would name them all though.

“ Throat, no-nose, gut, knee, the gen-genitals, and the cen-center of the c-chest. “ his mother nodded in approval, looking down at the paper again. “ If someone hits you first and they don’t seem to want to leave you alone, and there is no real possible means of escape, what should you do ? “ titling his head at the question he let his hair fall to one side while thinking about the text again. All of the words that didn’t look like words in the end. What should you do ?... “ Uh… scream and ru-run away ? “ it was worth a try… he couldn’t actually recall the answer. He felt somewhat ashamed about this. But his mother just put the paper to her face and tried to not show her son that she was laughing at his answer. Had he actually said it right or ? Did he just sound like an idiot as always ?

“ Pretty much, but I said there were no possible means of escape Hanny. If escape isn’t vital just defend yourself. Best to not let them get the upperhand, so don’t let them. If you must just think of me, Menhit and your sister as being in danger because of that person. Alright ? “ He nodded and felt his hands clench up at that thought; nobody would be able to hurt his family. At least not if he could do anything to stop it. The only people he truly felt… comfortable around, was his biological family. The team might be like a family because of them being the team but ? He never truly could see himself putting himself out there for them. He wouldn’t put his life on the line for people he really didn’t have any significant connection with. He tuned out of his thoughts to his mother calling him.

“ Next thing’s next… this wasn’t in the book and is more personal. Do you, A., like me more than Menhit, B., still like me more, or C., A plus B ? “

[shadowkeep.]

Dropping g out...