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Kamau :: Male :: Horn [Retired Pair]; Humus :: Male :: Earth
Topic Started: Apr 20 2012, 05:34 PM (498 Views)
Zinc
Member Avatar
The Owl Waife
Moderator
[align=center] Some saints have fallen from on high
Through cold stained glass
The fire's calling
Crawling down the burning match

Gold fires
The wicked bells they crash
No grave
To save me from my haunted past
[/align]

Character Number- 9th

Name- Kamau

Age- 21 (+4)

Gender- Male

Sexuality- Heterosexual, though he likes to claim Asexual.

[align=center] Posted Image
[/align]

Appearance- Sturdy would be a good word to describe Kamau. Perhaps stocky would also be a rather good word for it. Some of his kin were known to be tall and long in leg, but he seems to have gotten something equivalent to the short stick in that department. While some of his kin were somewhere near six and a half feet at their best, Kamau’s height is an atypical six feet in the right sort of boots. But what he lacks in height, he at least makes up for in the proper sort of muscling.

When one says that Kamau’s sturdy, they’re not kidding. The man’s heavy in the shoulders, and has a deep chest. His legs are strong and well muscled from what can only be hard work. It’s quite apparent that he’s used to traveling over long distances or running long ways. Just because he’s not got long legs doesn’t mean that he’s not in the proper shape for long loping ranges, which he’s known to go out upon from time to time. Quick feet and sharp eyes make him just as dangerous and hard to out maneuver as some who aren’t quite as muscled as he.

With ebony skin, it’s quite clear that Kamau is of the desert and far south regions of Sekkai. Like most of his kin, he’s got the prominent square jaw and nose that come with his race, though his own nose might be just a bit smaller than most. But his face is without a doubt, easily described as chiseled and almost harsh. There’s a sort of perpetual shadow that covers his expressions and his eyes and makes him appear very dark and gives the appearance that he might be making silent judgments upon you. With his dark brown, nearly black eyes, Kamau’s darker expressions turned upon most individuals are enough to make faint hearts wilt. The man is just plain intimidating whether he means to or not. Sometimes this works to his advantage, or other times just causes problems.

His hair is kept relatively short, a barely there collection of coarse black hair that appears to attempt to grow into curls. He rarely lets it get more than that short length, often cutting it down so that it nearly looks as if he’s got no hair upon his head at all. It only takes a month or so for it to become long enough that he considers it a nuisance, and he’s learned to care and groom it on his own, so he has no reason to ask or rely on others to trim it for him. His jaw as well is covered in a fine accumulation of coarse hair. A line of a beard grows along the bottom of his jaw and covers his upper lip and chin in a neatly trimmed goatee, this is one of the things he actually takes the time to manage and maintain. Though there are times when he just simply says ‘to hell with it’ and shaves it off. But he always seems to end up growing it back.

Upon places of his body, Kamau has scars. There are a few long lines of prominent scars on his arms, and parts of his legs, the scar tissue itself being a much paler shade of skin than the rest of his body, and making them rather obvious. But the most prominent location of scars is in irregular masses across his back. These scars have healed into hypertrophic scars, making them more raised and more prominent than most scars on normal people would be. They cause some mild restriction of movement and flexibility, but don’t seem to hinder him more than a bit with cases such as turning to look over his shoulder or bending over to pick something up. True enough there are cases where this could endanger his life, but he has yet to meet them.

Kamau’s weaponry of choice isn’t the obvious sort of thing that you would expect a rider to have. True enough, he has his typical weapons, such as swords and bows, but his real love is actually the bo-staff. He’s often seen with one carried about like a walking stick, something for him to lean on or just take with him. It has nothing to do with any limp or any problems with his legs, it’s just simply something he likes to have with him. During times of battle, he’s known to substitute this staff for a kindred cousin, whose ends are adorned with two separate blades, which he’s learned a deadly combative dance with.

His crystal which matches Humus’ is kept on a leather cord along with a protective charm to ward off disastrous events and hung about his neck and out of sight under his clothing.

Personality- Stoic, Willful, Serious, Wary
Kamau is quite easily compared to a human wall. He doesn’t talk much, and his expressions are about the equivalent of a rock. He really just doesn’t speak to people as a rule. He’s learned over the time he had spent as a part of the slave trade that speaking doesn’t do much for you. Most of the time, people don’t care to hear your voice, or you could say something that could easily be misinterpreted and can bring wrath down upon you quickly. He acknowledges the fact that he is no longer part of the slave trade, and has nothing that he really has to fear by speaking, but a key note of self-consciousness has come into play with this as well. Due to his entire life spent speaking in the desert tongue, and his recent acquisition of speaking the common tongue of Lihn and the Academy, he’s got a very rough accent, and notices that he has difficulty speaking, and others have a difficult time of understanding him. So he does his best to keep his words to a minimum.

By not speaking, he’s also able to keep his distance from a lot of people. If he doesn’t speak, it’s hard to make bonds and friendships, something that he learned to be very dangerous. Old habits that refused to die, he finds that a friendship would be a weakness, though that’s not to say that he doesn’t have a few people that he keeps close to him. Though he rarely lets people know about them in the first place. Plus, with his intimidating demeanor and sometimes icy silences, not a lot of people feel like they have the daring attitude to try and coax information from him.

By fading into the background, Kamau becomes a part of it with his silence unless people pay careful attention, it’s like he’s not even there at all. That makes it very easy for him to gather information, whether it’s about places or about people in general. He’s seen all kinds in his time out and about the deserts of Essam, and has learned quite quickly how to size people up and to make guesses, generally in the right direction about what kind of person that they would be before he even talks to them if he decides to. He has a tendency of being just a little bit picky on what kinds of people he talks to. Though if they are the type of person to try to antagonize words from him, he will respond, but not in a positive way.

He’s just learned to fight for life in the recent years before he became a part of the Academy and the ranks of their dragon riders. Those experiences still haunt him, and he rarely pushes fights or sparrings to limits of danger. Even when he was fighting enemies, the final toll he would render them with was mere unconsciousness. He is afraid of his own strength, after realizations of some of the things he had done in his time in the arena as a teenager, he realizes that he is indeed, a cold-blooded murderer if he sets his mind to it. Though it’s something he never plans to revisit again, there are times when an unsettling sort of mood comes upon Kamau, and many, mostly his dragon pick up on it, and try to steer clear, as it is a very…sensitive time for the Desert man. He tends to seclude himself away when these moods come upon him, and usually emerges a few hours to perhaps a day later.

When it comes to taking orders, Kamau goes with the orders of those he deems worthy of taking them from. This is where the reading people comes in handy, he doesn’t like those who are power hungry or ambitious. They remind him of darker people, and things that he shook himself of years ago. He enjoys belonging to himself, even if he came about it in a rather unorthodox way. If the soul that gives the orders is someone worthy of his respect and someone of honor, he will respond immediately and unfailingly. But if they are not, he will take a moment to evaluate the order itself and give his own quiet judgment upon it, and decide for himself whether or not he will follow it. Sometimes this has gotten him into trouble for cases of insubordination, but most often, it has allowed him to make logical calls on the leader’s own orders, and avoid disaster for himself and his dragon.

When it comes to expression, the best possible way anyone would see any true form of…not exactly words, but emotions and other things would be when Kamau is working with his weaponry. Mainly his bo-staff. He has learned how to use this common man’s weapon and teach himself it’s own dance in a movement of grace and skill that seems shockingly strange to see from a man of his size and musculature. He’s most at peace when he’s expending any pent up energy in his efforts to learn more about what most would already claim he’s learned all there is to. There is always more to teach himself, and there is always more to improve upon. To claim perfection would be a lie and a dangerous decision. To claim perfection means to lay aside any effort, and to fall into a dusty routine. No…Kamau is quite determined to keep himself and his handling of his weaponry in top shape.

Rank- Horn of the Lambent Wing

History- A lot of people start their lives happy. Well…most do anyway. They’re born into a home to a mother who immediately starts to love them, who will care for them and raise them to be the kind of person that society will see as great. To realize their full potential, and to rise up to be something greater than what their kin before them were able to attain. Some people are born to prosperity, others to struggle, and some to a life that will end up…simply alright. But there other still, many who are born to a life of more than just a simple struggle; they’re born into a life where every day is spent fighting to live and to keep what they have.

Kamau was born into one of those sorts of lives. His mother was barely a girl when she had him, a product of unseemly ‘attentions’ given to her by her trade-masters, he was something she never wanted to have, but ended up loving anyway. Kamau’s mother, Akisa was a part of a slave trade that traveled across the deserts of Essam. He was born one night in the sands of the desert beneath the moon, attended to by his adoptive sisters who helped carry and raise him as the caravan traveled. While their caravan leader was not a kind man, he did not see fit to kill a pregnant woman, nor to kill a young child who could not defend itself. Akisa gave him the name Kamau, which meant silent warrior. When he had been born, he had made not a peep, just stared at everyone with wide dark eyes. They’d initially thought there was something wrong with him, but he was simply an unearthly silent babe.

The years in the caravan were…hard. Life in the desert is always hard for anyone, but for Kamau, it was simply a living hell. His first five years were spent as nothing more than a tack on to his mother when they went to the markets, unable to be separated from Akisa due to some vague morality that their slave-master had left in his heart. In those first five years, Kamau learned how to move quickly through the desert, how to avoid attracting attention, and most of all, how to fear the wrath of the master, and the touch of his whip. Rarely was the punishment ever turned upon the young child, but there were times when he earned small warning lashes on his arms or legs when he strayed too far over the lines of behaviors he didn’t yet comprehend. It was a fast learning curve. Live or die.

The desert was a harsh teacher.

Kamau learned one of the harshest lessons of all after his fifth summer came, and he was finally deemed adequate ‘goods’ to be distributed to other trains throughout the desert of Essam. He was separated from his mother, and sold for a meager sum, his master thinking he had been robbed, and his newest master, a scarred desert skinned man named Caltsis thinking he’d been cheated for as much as he’d paid for a ‘useless waif of a boy.’ His time with Caltsis was long, three years that were far too arduous to be so simply erased from Kamau’s mind. Caltsis was cruel and greedy. His hand was all too familiar with the whip. Meals were uncommon and water was scarce, and it didn’t help that half of the men and women he had in his train were half-mad from exposure to the sun or had simply reverted to a more animalistic state in order to survive the hardships that he bestowed upon them as the years past.

Caltsis found it difficult to sell Kamau until he started to grow into something resembling a leggy adolescent. It was then that he was picked up by a small family of wealthy merchants with a large estate on the edges of the ocean on the southern coast. Their slaves were many and though their family was comprised of few, it was a good span of years that he spent with them. He befriended a slave named Bruin, who had come from an island to the east, he’d said, and he’d been captured by man-hunters who’d simply been looking for a quick way to make a profit off of their own kind. He had a wife and a daughter back home, if they weren’t out in the trade somewhere as well. He often talked to Kamau about them as they both worked around the estate, mostly tending to the duties in the kitchen or maintaining the properties outside.

Kamau spent another seven years like this, and he managed to actually learn to enjoy his existence amongst the household of the merchant family. They were stern, but took care of their man-servants and slaves, feeding them and giving them proper clothing. He even learned to speak a few broken sentences of the languages of Eastern Sekkai, which were far different from the tongues of the desert. But mostly, Kamau just learned how to work, how to keep silent, and how to keep to himself. He’d learned over the years, that no matter how kind some people appeared to be, it was just better to keep to himself, to keep his head down, and to trust no one. This one fact that he had taught himself, helped him in some ways, to cope with the events that came next.

As the years had progressed in his time in the southern merchant’s house, things had gotten progressively worse in the ways of business, and his company was starting to go under as storms and droughts took out most of his ships, crops, and cargo that he was intending to buy sell and trade. Eventually, money started to run low, and the family was unable to maintain the upkeep for the slaves they had acquired throughout the years, and so sacrifices and profit were required. So the slaves were sold off, one by one or in bulk depending on the groups and wishes of both buyer and seller, and Kamau found himself, once again cast adrift in the market trade of human flesh.

His next home wasn’t quite as wonderful as the last one. It wasn’t even worthy of being called a home. A shady dealer purchased Kamau in the middle of one night, and the only thing he remembers after that was the cell. Gods above how he hated and loathed the cell. Isolated and smelling of excrement, urine, blood, and the desperate wills of dying men, it was almost enough to drive any sanity anyone had away from their reeling minds. He had been sold into an underground ring, a world of blood-sport that catered to the whims of the cruel and the rich. It provided for those with a touch of blood-lust to their gold and businesses, fueled by boredom and the intrigue in watching something die right before their very eyes. Kamau doesn’t remember much of those years, nor does he ever want to. He sealed them tightly away in his mind, though he still wakes up in a cold sweat from nightmares he can’t recall and for reasons he can’t understand. All he knows is that there was blood on his hands…so much of it…there had to have been in order for him to have escaped that place alive.

Salvation came in the form of a dragon and rider duo. The rider had been investigating some of the underground crime rings of Essam for many long years, and was quite horrified at what he had ended up finding. Rage was, in his mind and that of his dragon’s at the very least, a proper response to what he found. In the depths of the cells, Kamau could only hear the screams and sounds of splintering wood and grinding stone. The smell of blood became strong as it filtered down to those who were poking their faces up against the bars, as if someone in the ring had made a kill that night. They were all surprised, and yet not, at the loud roar of the great Chaos dragon of the man who was tearing apart the world they had become familiar with.

When he came upon them within the pits of their captors own finely crafted hell, he’d called for his dragon, and watched as it had obliterated their prisons, and pooled together those who were sane enough to stand before him and speak while the rest ran for their miserable lives, and ferry them to the desert and away from the scene of chaos he had created in a brief spur of rage. Some thanked him, others were silent and headed off in their own direction, as for Kamau…he doesn’t quite remember what he did, but he knew he didn’t leave. Something happened that night, some words that were spoken and then forgotten by the man that allowed him to change where he was destined to be. Kamau was a man who had never belonged to himself, and with the interference of the Chaos rider and his dragon, he had a tentative step out into freedom. But he didn’t know what to do with it. He had been captive his whole life. What was there for him now?

So the man and his dragon had ferried him back to Lihn, where they hoped he would be able to find his own way. While Kamau was certainly old enough to look out for himself, he certainly had no ability to know how in this completely different environment and his inability to speak a completely different tongue than the one he had grown up speaking. At a loss, he had sought out the duo again, much to their surprise, amidst the walls of the Academy. They were able to understand his predicament, they decided that they had perhaps, not thought through their plan entirely, as the situation involving the ring shouldn’t have occurred in the first place. So rather than leave him to fend for himself in the streets of Lihn, they helped him learn to adapt to it instead, rooming him with a bilingual scholar of the Academy and his family amidst the city who helped him slowly learn his ways around the foreign town.

It took him a few years, but he was finally able to figure out what his own way was going to be, and finally had the means to attain it. Inspired by the things that the scholar had taught him, he looked to the Academy in hopes of a future amidst the dark times of war, which had ‘blinded men to the suffering of their own kind, and shadowed their hearts with greater darkness’ as the old man had said. There were things out there to fight for, Kamau knew, things like his mother, still lost to the slave trade, and he needed to find a way to help her.

With that goal in mind, he was set up with some assistance from his foster home/adoptive scholar as a Candidate for the Academy. It was rough, and for the twenty one year old, he felt out of his depth on more than one occasion, but somehow, slowly, he managed to scrape through the lessons, to learn what was taught, and speak with his heavily accented voice to Kazuko on the sands on the day of the Hatching. She had offered to him a honey gold crystal which he had taken and simply stared at, uncomprehendingly until the white Earth dragon Humus had come into the crowd to seek him out.

So he and his dragon spent a tentative wyrmling hood with each other. Humus with his easy going backslider ways didn’t quite mind the silence of his bonded, though he was quite upset with his omnipresent tenseness, and did his best to ease his bonded’s nerves as best he could. In some ways, he was successful, in others, he wasn’t. At the very least, as their time together wore on, Humus managed to get him to settle back into his role as a dragon-rider a bit better. As time wore on, and the duo graduated from the Wyrmling clases, they took a step forwards to give aid in the war. Rather than join a Wing and fight, Humus and Kamau took up a position as guards for supply trains that were shipped across the continent.

This went on until the Summer battles began and the battles in the war began to escalate. It was no longer safe for many of the caravans to make trips, and Kamau and Humus were pushed to the front lines with a team of Earth dragons who fought with ground crews against the Taints that flew through the air and traveled across the sky. By the time that the journey to the Frozen Wastelands took place, they were both more than a little worse for the wear, acquiring new scars of the physical and mental variety.

When the war finally ended, both sat back and breathed a sigh of relief. Things were ready to change, and they were about to change again. With the Taints suddenly docile, and the Academy unsure of what to do about them, Kamau and Humus stand on the sidelines, warily watching the outcome, but not certain if they wish to be part of the decision making.

Pet(s)- Sage, Male Flora Phoenix

Dignified, Keen, Gluttonous

An agile looking creature, Sage's body shape is relatively thin for phoenix, though he certainly eats more than enough to be of proper weight. His feathers are a bright mixture of ivy green upon his head, brightening along the tips of his crest to the shade of new growth. Ivy melts into emerald along his back and along his wings and tail feathers. His pinions on both his wing-tips and his tail eventually gradient from the rich green to a vibrant violet, deepening to a dark purple along the tips. His chest is slightly mottled by tones of dusty gray, carrying down his keel and to his claws. His eyes are a bright shade of blue, and his beak ebony, matching his talons.

[align=center]The Dragon

I don't want clever conversation
I never want to work that hard
I just want someone that I can talk to
I want you just the way you are.

I need to know that you will always be
The same old someone that I knew
What will it take till you believe in me
The way that I believe in you.
[/align]

Name- Humus

Age- 2 (+2)

Gender- Male

Element- Earth

Parents: Chaos Liian x Copper Almirsael

Siblings: Iron Ferrum, Crystal Telluria, Forest Hemlock

Appearance-

[align=center]Posted Image
By the Lovely Sempling![/align]

[align=center]Flat Design Reference :: Humus by Balu :: Humus by Kess :: Humus by Me[/align]

[align=center]Height - 30 ft. Length - 153 ft. Wingspan - 100 ft[/align]

When one looks at Humus, their first thought upon viewing him might be that perhaps he’s some over-sized Ice dragon, not an Earth. He’s certainly go the size down, but the color and the shape of the dragon is overall, absolutely out of character for his breed. His build is lithe and smooth, no heavy muscles or stocky legs here. He’s almost panther-like in his grace, and even with his massive size, moves with a sleekness that makes one ponder how in the world he can carry his weight so well. His armoring scales are smooth and supple, catching the light in bright refracting flashes rather than catching and consuming the lights like his more dusty and dull earth brethren. Humus is a strange case due to his white scales.

But he’s not simply white, his scales are actually as sort of iridescent shade, which when properly catches the light, flashes in shades of soft and dark blues that add some intriguing contrast to his shape and form. Most Earth’s are the colors of their namesake, dull browns, earthen tones, clay colored. But don’t tell Humus that, he’s quite certain that he’s exactly as he should be, and he doesn’t plan to change it any time soon. The only real contrast from his white and light blue scales are the dark smudges of black that are his eyes and his curling mouth upon his face. Even his curling ram's horns are the same sort of ivory as his body and his claws.

His face is leonine, with a short muzzle with a rounded snout. His mouth is a long and loose scrawl of black, revealing the black gums and flesh of his inner mouth that allows his languid and easy going expressions to come and go with a wide smile in place. Protruding from the bottoms of his jaws towards the front of his muzzle beneath his loose lips are his lower canines, large in his jowls and flashing upwards outside of his mouth in a prominent display of white fangs. But even these dangerous weapons of the Earth dragon just seem to be a part of his over-all friendly demeanor and trade-mark smile rather than something that should be perceived as a threat. His eyes are dark panes of glass, without a discernable pupil that remind one of a good natured teddy-bear rather than something sinister, and their positioning beneath his brows, which lack prominent definition, makes his expression seem very open.

Rather than heavy crags and ridges along his body, Humus seems to have taken to using frills as unique markers of his form instead. They decorate the back of his skull in loose folds that can be raised or lowered like any other dragon’s crest. But that’s not the only place that they’re located, they also begin to sprout at the base of his neck, just behind his prominent shoulder blades, and the stop mid-way down his spine. Then one final time, they begin at the base of his tail and extend down a quarter of the way down his lengthy tail before they stop. Rather than being full sails of frills, they are instead, designed in something akin to a swallow-tail butterfly’s wings. The ribbing of the frills point towards the sky, and the membrane between them rounds out at the very end of the ribs before it seems to hug the bone and curl back down towards Humus’ body, leaving rather intriguing forms to look at. Even his tail, has an odd formation upon it. Rather than a club or a collection of spines, or even a spade, it is covered in a spade-like formation of these frills. However, unlike the ones upon his back and neck, they are more solid, and build to cause actual damage. The ribs are solid spines with the membrane between them, and easily able to cause damage should he swing his tail around at an enemy.

Humus’ own wings are even a strange conundrum. His Chaos sire certainly did a number on breaking all the typical possibilities for an Earth with him. His wings are quite large and lengthy in comparison to his body shape. Not large enough for actual flight, but certainly enough that he can sustain himself easily in long and languid glides through the air with the proper air currents. If he ever had a team of Air dragons with him, he might even be able to fly and support himself for long distances. These appendages have the same frilling design with each finger extended, the membrane ending in a rounded blob of form before curling back and onto the next one, leaving a rather ragged, but overall aesthetically pleasing look to Humus’ wings.

Thin in the legs, but heavy in the feet, perhaps Humus’ only true give away for his breed is the large paws and the long digging claws that he has tipping each of his toes. Tools reserved purely for Earth dragons and the jobs that they have to do. He however, keeps his claws clean of most dirt, so even his feet sometimes, make it hard to tell just what he is.

The Earth’s crystal, a hollow hexagon of honey onyx is nestled in the sternum of his chest, and shines in slight contrast to his white scales.

Personality- Jovial, Lax, Cool, Musical, Old-Fashioned

With a deep and thrumming voice like black velvet, Humus is easily considered a dragon who loves to get along with the ladies, and has a fun time with it too. He’s got an easy going sense of good humor, and is more inclined to make people laugh then to cause a stressful situation. He’s not much for jokes, but he will join in on pranks and whatever fun any of the youngsters or even older veterans have planned, just to get some laughs going. He’s not afraid of any laughter at his own expense either, he doesn’t mind, and he doesn’t really have that much of an ego to bruise in the first place. There’s no real point for one in his mind, it just gets in the way of people getting along, and arguing with people takes energy that could be concentrated into other places.

Most places would include naps in the sun or calm strolls through the Academy’s grounds. Not to say that Humus is lazy…he just likes to take it easy. He’s not big on being rushed, and if he is, he’s not likely to be happy about the job that he’s given, not that it’s obvious that the dragon is ever upset. Sometimes it seems like the dragon just doesn’t have a temper at all. In fact, rather than ever get upset, the dragon seems more prone to falling into fits of depression and moping rather than ever getting enraged, which, at his size, is probably a good thing. Though for his rider, it’s never a good thing, when Humus falls into a depression, it’s very hard to get him back into his normal spirits, usually taking anywhere from six hours to several days, and is an exhausting task in of itself.

Humus is a real honey-dripper, and demonstrated that since day one. He enjoys treating the ladies right and being the proper sort of gentleman. He’s as sweet as sugar to everyone he meets, and considers most to be a friend. He’s prone to coming up with immediate nicknames for those he meets as soon as he meets them. They can be anything from ‘sugar’ to ‘red’. Generally simple one word phrases that can go along with some physical or personality trait that managed to manifest within the first couple minutes of their meeting. If Humus doesn’t give you a nickname, it generally means that he doesn’t like you. This is probably the only sign that the dragon gives that he’s got problems with people. Though he’s more prone to the nicknames, he knows how to be respectful, and quite often addresses higher ups as ‘sir’ or ‘ma’am’ though he’s known to let a nickname or two slip from time to time depending on how lax the person he’s addressing is.

One of Humus’ favorite things to do is to sing, or make any sort of musical sound in general. With his smooth dark voice, it’s generally an attractive noise to hear. Whether it’s a lowly thrum and humming tune that has no name, or an actual song that he’s prone to singing under his voice, or loud and long much to the embarrassment of his rider as they stroll together on certain days, he doesn’t hold back. His repertoire of tunes is rather small, and often enough he’s caught repeating a song many times in a row, but for the most part, he changes how he sings it, testing for the most stunning effect it might have on any who admire him and his voice.

If there’s any form of inspiration for the dragon to get up and moving, it’s his rider Kamau. He thinks that his rider takes things all too seriously, and often tries to get him to relax, and sometimes it even works. But he understands that there’s a time for work and a time to laze and take it all easy. Kamau has crafted a tone of voice that Humus knows to respond to quickly, whether it’s issued over a their bond or audibly, he’ll hop to it if he hears it. But other times, he’s a little bit slower to respond and likes to take his time. He’s known for pushing limits sometimes, but knows generally, when to stop trying people’s patience and finally get work done. He takes pride in hard work that he’s done, but it’s getting him started on it that’s always the trial.

Due to his white hide, Humus likes to keep himself clean, and is often known for lazing about in baths and hot springs for hours. Dust collecting on his white scales becomes quickly obvious, and dulls the white of his scales with dull browns. He likes to keep himself pristine and presentable, always wanting to be lovely for any ladies he might come across, or any good impressions he has to make. It’s not necessarily an OCD sort of obsession, but rather, a preference. Even his claws are subject to his cleaning routine, and often times, he does his best to coax his rider to join him and clean up every now and then as well, afraid that he might be neglecting himself from time to time.

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Username- Zinc

Contact- See Lichen and Larka :3

Yourself- FINALLLYYYYYYYYY I AM HEREEEE AT LASSSSSSST~

How did you find Sekkai? LALALA IN MY HAPPY PLACE~ HUMUS~
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Balu
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Perpetually sketching
[align=center]<333333
When you get the chance, I'd love to see Humus info expanded upon too, but for now they are

Accepted[/align]
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