d7 // amarath fey [Fin.]

i'm a pretty boi

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...."

"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.

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