d7 // amarath fey [Fin.]

[cass]

Name: amarath feyyyyy
Age: 16
Gender: Male
District/Area: District 7
Appearance:

i'm a pretty boi

Personality:

Even though Amarath is the most level headed of all the Fey’s that doesn’t mean he lacks certain quirks. Most people have little habits and issues, Amarath’s faze of eating paper began when he was really young, a habit that flourished under time and has become a long standing addiction on his part. His mother use to tell him stories and those stories where the things he loved, and from their he grew a dream, a dream that expanded and stretched out before him until he was certain that one day head succeed. He was sure that the years, hours and days he spent bent over a book, eyes scouring from left to right would pay off. Eventually he’d get the money to build his own little factory and from where he could create books, stories and tales weaved with his own hands, weaved from his own dreams to share with the world. His mother never understood why he would grasp each book and tear out the last page. She’d often shake her head, and once or twice she had even attempted to grab the book away from him before he could destroy it. Eventually she stopped, knowing that her son had evolved some sort of obsession with needing to tear out the last few pages. It was as though he could never bear to hear the ending, and that was very much true, an ending meant that there was an expected way to finish, and that meant people already had it all solved out, but if you removed the ending you left it as a surprise.

So he’d smile, teeth flashing almost with contempt as he screwed it up and tore a chunk off with his teeth. You see, by removing the ending he had left it open, it was how he wanted people to see his life, to see him. At first glance people assumed he was exactly like his family, and he had been judged rather harshly by the standards set by his siblings, it was like a book already written where they could all see the ending because they thought they knew him. It was hardly fair, and so he found that it wasn’t exactly fair that a book should feel the same way, maybe it was also because he believed that by destroying the books future he could alter his own. Part of him became bent on doing just that, he was intent on making something of himself, building a life that appeared to never happen to his other siblings. He wasn’t going to be stuck in a fairy tale with an ending already pre-determined, so like the books his mother read him he tore out the ending and started to build his own.

Amarath always had that friendly side and in comparison to his siblings he seemed to always be the one with the friends – not the friends that his other more eccentric brothers would have, but the ones you knew you could count on, they were just as calm, complacent and laid back as he was. Some people called them the geeks, but Amarath always brushed the comment off, knowing that he was far from a geek, he was simply normal. Well to his family standards he was. Even though he has his issues, sleep walking, eating paper, and an attitude that would separate him from most others of his family he was still one of them. Because Amarath might want to draw away and become his own person, to be independent and strike out on his own in the way that will bring him good fortune and money, but he is still a Fey, and this self-conscious, little boy loves his family, as much as he wants to be independent. A part of him loves his little flaws, his issues and habits because they link him to his brothers, even if some are a little insane, maybe one of them better and perhaps more successful then he will ever be, but they were still family.

"Amarath is quite possibly the most level headed of all the Feys. Where Kronos, with his easy grin is something to avoid and Eponymous is obviously off his rocker, Amarath feels that he has been sorely misjudged by his community. Sure, maybe he has a penchant for swallowing whatever one hands to him, and maybe he's been seen a couple of times sleep walking, but Amarath is pretty sure that he's pretty normal. He's quite conscious of appearing to be as normal as possible and usually has his nose in a book. He is intent on making something of himself, and aspires to own a paper mill one day, so he can write down the stories his mother told, and his younger brother tells. Now, if he can only stop swallowing all the pages...."

History:

"Once upon a time, on the outskirts of the seventh district, there was a relatively nondescript cottage. In this cottage, there lived a mother, a father, four sons and one daughter. The mother was a lovely lady with laughter lines etched like spider's webs from the corners of her mouth, and the father was a lumberjack who only ever wore plaid. The mother and the father were very much in live, and loved their children dearly. In the evenings, the talented mother would weave stories about the fair folk who lived in the woods around their home, and the father would leave cups of milk out on the window sill to appease them. The children grew up on a diet of haphazard magic and home cooked meals. Once though, on a very dark and stormy night, the father did not come home to hang up his ax and be a father again.

So the mother pulled on her rubber boots and tramped off into the woods to find her husband. "He'd always had a poor sense of direction," she'd say. "He probably has gone off the wrong way," she'd say. So that night the children waited for their mother to drag their father back home by the ear. They waited and they waited and they waited. After two days they began to wonder if they were coming back, after a week the eldest decided they weren't. After four months, the youngest still hoped that they would.

These are the Fey children.

Codeword: odair
Comments/Other:

idk. when i think amarath i'm like amethyst. haha. ahaha.
counting dreams stars

[cass]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: 000000; border: 000000 solid 0px; width: 475px; padding: 0 0 0 0px; border-radius: 0px 30px 0px 0px;] amarath fey. Lately, I've been, I've been losing sleep Dreaming about the things that we could be But baby, I've been, I've been praying hard, Said, no more counting dollars We'll be counting stars, yeah we'll be counting stars D

[/size]ark brown eyes sit underneath two strong set of eyebrows. At this present moment they were pulled down into a scowl. The page before him was filled with tiny little words, in his lap sat a book that he had been reading. He found this part of the book distasteful, he hated the way the story was heading, part of that was because it was so cliché. The other reason was because it just wasn’t creative, firstly the writing style was just boring, they stated what was happening and never once did they stop to actually reveal to the reader what they were trying to explain. The words didn’t flow and didn’t connect; they were all over the place, everywhere. It was like spaghetti without the meatballs, without the meatballs it was nothing. Amarath was a picky reader, it had never once been like this, but ever since he had gained an interest in reading –a hobby that had begun at the age of four- he had developed a taste for certain styles. Some of them just revealed too much and it made the ending super predictable, something he could not stand. Endings were always the worst part, the part he refused to ever read.

His mother use to always sit beside him and read him stories. She’d sit down and tuck him into bed and avidly read out the words plastered to the page. Sometimes she’d invite him to help her out and they’d act out a part or two and after about an hour he would slip into a dream filled sleep. Never once would his dreams be hindered by nightmares. She used to tell him stories of the things he loved, and in turn that created dreams of his own, things he wanted to aspire to be and places he wanted to go. Amarath Fey was not contempt to set back and watch the world revolve around him. He was not one to look on as people strived for the best, as others work knocked down and eventually the person on top was crowned king. Amarath was not a sitter, he was not a watcher, he was a doer. It was in his mind that to be something and to be someone you had to move out and away from the bonds of your family. His bonds were hardly effective in helping him get anywhere, so he knew that by sticking his head into a book, bending down and getting to work he could one day break away and be his own person.

It was why you found him sitting in a corner, fingers absently wrapped around a sheet of paper that would all to commonly find its way to his thin, colourless lips, where he’d tear off a chunk and chew on it, eyes glued to the book before him, lips almost moving wordlessly along to the rhythm of the theoretics. It was his dream to move out and own his own little paper mill. He wanted to build himself something, Amarath didn’t want to be stuck sitting at home forever, trapped in an endless cycle of failing. His siblings seemed to be content with doing that, it was almost disappointing to watch, but he always shrugged such emotions off and away, mostly to keep himself above his siblings, but mainly because he didn’t want to feel the urge to help them. He had his own success to worry about first. The paper mill came about only a few years ago; it was after he had finished another book, once more halting before the ending. Amarath had leaned back, mind reeling from the wonderfully written story, when only a week ago he had been in the same position angered by the shocking writing he had forced himself to endure.

It was this that sparked his mind into working. He wanted to give people the same feelings he lived as he read a good book. What better way to show that then creating books? That way he could determine which ones would come through and out into the public, he could save people from ever having to read a horrid book again. He could make sure no one had to read an ending ever. The idea of being able to spread the joy and the happiness that had come when he had read a book, or when his mother had read to him was one that left him smiling.

The last few pages came into view and without hesitating he tore them out, slender fingers gripping onto the pages tightly. He pulled, and they tore free of their binding. If you looked closely you could see a dozen tiny scars at the tips of his fingers. Those had come about from the millions of books he had destroyed in his need to remove the ending. His mother had always found it an odd trait, but never questioned the fact that Amarath needed to hide the ending from view. Ever since he had been a young child he had been adamant in never hearing the ending to the tale. She had agreed to withhold them, knowing fully well the kind of tantrums the lanky boy could throw. He eyed the pages, born eyes flickering absently over the sprawl of words, his slender arms held them up high and after another moment he brought them down and he took a big bite. His white teeth tore a chunk off and quickly he began chewing.

It was a habit that had developed over the years. Where it had begun with him simply eating paper it had expanded to eating anything you handed to him. His stomach could cope with anything from sand to rocks to plastic. And yet he had even managed to maintain a slender figure, perhaps a bit too slender. Swallowing quickly he took another bit and within minutes he had eaten the entire ending of the book. It was his way of making sure no one would ever ruin it for him. It was also his way of making sure that he would never see the ending and no one could read it and ruin it for him. Well, it really wasn’t about ruining it; it was more about the idea that he hated endings. Endings meant that there was a way life was expected to turn out. And that meant that his life had a planned ending and the very thought of that happening was depressing. Besides by removing the ending you let yourself with a surprise. In his mind by doing that you could create the ending, you could make it as gruesome and perfect as you wanted it to be. That was how it should always be, no one could have the unhappy ending that they so despised, they could make it into whatever their heart desired.

His siblings were… strange. Yes, he was very much strange himself, the boy with the obsession with eating things, (oh yeah and also that little issue with sleep walking) but he was still the most level headed of his family. He hated how many people had ascribed his siblings to a certain identity and that identity had affected him. When he walked down the streets people didn’t see the slim, well groomed boy that was before them, but instead the crazy, out of place boy that was in that crazy family. Some people had called him crazy though, apparently sleep waking was a thing of the ages, a thing that struck the insane. That often left him deeply upset, his eyes burning with an anger that shouldn’t exist in such a sweet boy. He refused to let it get to him, though, just as he refused to let the name calling get to him at school. People at school always seemed to feel as though anyone who liked to read and do well was a geek. And then those with that title were the ones that deserved to be picked on. It was a cruel, harsh system that deemed the high achievers to be the weakest.

Amarath tries to not see himself as a geek and will often brush the comment off, he was, in his opinion, far from a geek, he was normal. If anything his siblings should be given the odd titles, they were the ones with the issues. Kronos was like their carer, but Amarath was sure that part of the boy was slightly insane. Epo was the crazy one for sure. He was always walking around with this goose. Amarath had a feeling that one day he was going to get himself killed and he guessed he would blame the goose. He was the one that could be relied upon; he was the one that was calm, laid back and competent in everything he did, well intellectually competent. He was hardly a physical masterpiece, more of a scrawny kid that was into books. But still, he was more capable of doing anything then his brothers, they were too weird, and for him that was difficult to attain as his limits for the unnatural were high. He was the friendly one, the one with the best ability to get anywhere in life. Maybe he came off that way because he didn’t like hanging around his family, and preferred books instead of their company, but it was more than that. He was independent; he could take care of himself. Amarath liked being able to take care of himself, knowing that when he chose to leave the he wouldn’t need Kronos’s help.

Ever since their parents disappeared they had had to learn a new way of living. That had been hard and Amarath had hated not having his mother tuck him in and read him a story at night. Granted the stories told were given to them all to listen to, but Amarath felt as though that part of their life had been mainly taken away from him. Still he persisted, determined to forge ahead where some of his siblings had fallen. And from there he hatched a plan, keeping it to himself at first, wanting that streak of independence and daring to be his own. His older siblings seemed almost incapable of holding out on their own, but they eventually learned to adapt to the situation at hand. He was, however, the one ahead of the rest and that was the way he liked it.

So he kept up with his dream, and he fell into the books and the life of studying, whilst holding onto his obsession with eating everything handed to him. He never did tell anyone about the night-time strolls, they had yet to learn that for themselves.[/blockquote]

<img src="http://i41.tinypic.com/16h2ibt.png">

Template: Zoë <3

[/size]
[/color][/td][/tr][/tr][td][/table]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: 494961; border: 303045 solid 0px; width: 475px; height: 5px; padding: 0 0 0 0px; border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 0px;]

[/tr][td][/table]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=style, background-image: url(http://i1221.photobucket.com/albums/dd466/NoshYosh/amarath_zps640c69be.png); border: 494961 solid 0px; width: 475px; height: 275px; padding: 0 0 0 0px; border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px;]

[/tr][td][/table]

[/center]

[✨ zozo.]

Beautiful!

[/center]