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The Spool Begins   Hello Kaetei, and welcome to my application for Kahia! I'm sure you've had more than your fill of these insipid introductions, but by force of habit I'm afraid I've got to have one too. My name is Vicats and I'm another in the flood of applicants looking to adopt one of your pets. Over the past two months I've designed, written and drawn to the best of my abilities, making the writing and the vast majority of the art you see here; I've done trades and have doodled until my hand felt like it would fall off, all in hopes of proving myself worthy of, at the very least, your time. And so here you are, and it's the moment of truth. I hope you enjoy my application! (And don't worry; the overdramatic stuff is over now.)
A few quick note before we begin; If it hasn't already started, music is loading. The song is I Know You Are But What Am I? By Mogwai, and is lyricless so it won't interrupt reading. If you dislike it, your escape button will turn it off. This application should work in all browsers, and in any screen size. I'll be referring to Kahia as Ka for a nickname, so please don't think I've gone insane. Seamstress  The about me is one of those sections that seems to stretch on into eternity... you know what I mean. I could go on for forever and a day about my self, just like anyone else, and likelihood would be that you wouldn't be any more interested in me than 'that other person'. However, on the positive side you'll get to see a little bit of "behind the scenes" information, and you can figure out if I'm the type of person you want Kahia going to. For your sake, I'll start with real life, and then Neo life. For Real? In reality, I'm a fairly abnormal little seventeen year old. I'm short, have strawberry blonde hair and eyes that tend to be somewhere between blue, grey, and green most of the time. I live in a small city in Canada, attend a private all girls school and am in my final year in high school. I spend most of my time reading, writing or drawing, as well as researching random subjects; my favorite topics are cryptids (Animals which haven't been proven as existing yet/which were 'extinct' but have frequent sightings), mega fauna (giant animals), and folklore. I can be brutally honest, and I tend to have a hint of sarcasm to everything I say. I'm lazy and a bit of a procrastinator, however once I have a goal I'm very driven. And really, that's probably all you need to know.Well, maybe not quite... Real As for Neopets, I'm a veteran. I've been playing in one form or another for over seven years, from sharing an account with my big brother to the current sprawl that I call 'home.' Back in the day I was a pound surfer and a pet collector, as well as a 'budding roleplayer. That is to say, I was one of those rampant little kids with little to no talent and too much time online This beginning didn't seem to stop me, though. I gained some close friends as I matured and developed my writing style. Custom designs didn't occur to me for a number of years, content with simply writing. Korruu was the one who started that ball rolling; first pet that I made with a truly unique custom design, he was little more than a green Shoyru with some small brown markings, but his start sparked what I am now. As for my current Neopets status, I'm happily playing, though I still find the new layout tedious. Most of my efforts are turned towards art and petpages for my pets. Neo is a platform for my character designs, which makes them more accessible to both myself and others, and that is what keeps me securely here. I play my games so I can make my characters perfect, enter the BC and the art gallery for the thrill of success, and roleplay to develop my pets further.
Application History: This one's a gooder. My application history. Normally, folks are quick to hide the pets they've applied for in the past. However, as I mentioned, it is a hobby of mine. It's only fair that I let you know about my history in writing petpage applications. The eldest of these no longer exist, but I have some snippets of the more recent ones, if you would like to see any of them. Dricki The first pet I actually completed and submitted an application for, I was actually the favorite for Dricki. The owner said I was pretty likely to get him, but on the day of the deadline he was on another account with a few other rare pets, and was frozen shortly thereafter. This was the first time I had put so much effort into anything on Neo, and it really hurt to fail in it. My design was quite simple, staying close to the original Neopet design, which was what the owner wanted. Duplicity After Dricki, I wasn't really feeling up for applying for more pets. I decided to look up some words in hopes of starting a good name-stalking list, and quickly put in one of my favorite words; 'Duplicity.' Because I was checking the ages of the pets I searched, I went to her lookup and saw that she was up for adoption. In about a week I had whipped up a story and design for her, submitted, and succeeded in adopting her. She's had varying bits of writing and art up at any given time, but is now receiving a much-needed facelift. Aquardi It's hard to believe that I only applied for Aquardi a year ago, two months after receiving Duplicity. I drew almost thirty pictures either for myself or to fill in trades, and spent hour upon hour typing. As with Kahia, I made his design after deciding to use an old idea that I had set aside long ago, and once he was drawn, I was almost possessed, obsessed with completing more of his information. In the end, a handful of depressing events kept him with his original owner, but the amount of work that I put into him could not go to waste; the energy I had put towards him turned, and two months later I had earned his current form; Dilumas. Klieru Klieru came into my life late in January, after I had finally given up on Aquardi. The first picture I drew of him was actually meant to be of my fursona, but by the time I had finished my line art the drawing was male. Unwilling to revamp most of the body shape, I coloured the drawing as a random character and almost left it at that. However, I had always wanted a grey Kougra, and, with a quick surf through the database I picked up Klieru. There was a lot of drama surrounding that application. A not-well liked user of Neopound was also applying for him and felt that my decision to apply was an attack on herself, and spent the better part of the month I spent applying for him attempting to stir up unnecessary trouble. Interestingly enough, after I received Eru, things calmed down, and I would even go as far as to call her a good friend. Revenn I found Revenn while surfing through a friend's accounts, looking for their screenies, and though I had never had any interest in Grarrls before, I felt the need to doodle one. Mostly it was due to the new influx of "Meet The Robinsons" commercials, where the t-rex Tiny complains "I have a big head, and little arms!" But the end result was too cute to refuse. I wrote up a decent-length petpage app and within a day Rev was on my account, quickly becoming my favorite BCer. Bohrium I'm not sure if you could call Bohrium a pet I applied for. He came up looking for a home on the Neopound Forums with instructions to neomail if you were interested in the rules. I did, and the owner responded that she'd like me to have him. So over he came. His character and the art of him came afterwards, but his old owner is content. Meikaze I wrote the forum equivalent of a neomail application for Mei; it was long, involved, and fairly detailed. I had a picture of her, her adoptable set, and a short story involving her and my other characters. After the owner had given a week for applications (Might I point out; competition was fierce, with three competitors at least) she was transferred safely to me. Linshai After Linshai I told myself I would never make an application ever again. I... really over extended myself. I spent several hundred hours on creating that application, fine-tuning her species, writing a history, making a petpage, and writing the application itself. I had three unique layouts for three unique sections, used art and writing for it as portions of my practical exams, and it took me over. In the end it meant nothing; I came in second. It was the first time I had ever cried over Neopets when I found out I had failed, though admittedly I had other stresses in my life at that time which mounted up, but I learned a lot about applying and how my time should be spent. Working myself until I'm exhausted and miserable does nothing for myself, my application, or the pet I'm applying for. High Hopes At this point I'm going introduce the High Hopes plot, as it picks up a great deal of importance in the next few sections and I don't want you getting confused. I'm starting with the short creative intro that will be on every High Hopes Pet's page, and then I'll give you a more in depth look into it. Off from Neopian Central, away from the bright windows of the stores and the cheery garden paths of "Executive Town Homes" Neopia sprawls into urban anonymity. It's quite simply impossible to stumble across the industrial section of Neopia, well hidden from even long-time residents' curiosity. Several miles down a crumpled, lonely service road, the second city sprouts up in grey uneven clumps reminiscing of a dreary fungus, a haze of pollutants spewed from surrounding refineries smothering the city. Within, a confused maze of ramshackle fast-food restaurants, rattrap apartments, and questionable corner stores sustain the residents in their mindless drone of slave-like work. There is little that doesn't take on a grey tint in the city, little that can flourish in the hostile cement desert. Like the carcasses of great beasts, burnt out cars sprawl on cement blocks. Buildings leer onto the streets, their shattered windows turned to ragged grins. Children, what children there are, play safely indoors... or not at all. A gut-twisting tension seems to be strung down the empty streets, and though at any given hour the residents of the city are either buried in their labors or soundly unconscious, it still feels like trouble roves the streets without a master. Down one such street, particularly notorious for the crumbling buildings that hedge it, there is a flash of color amongst the grey. Amongst the gaping maws of various abandoned buildings (for even the desperate know better than to risk death in such places), a pair of newly installed metal doors stand stoutly locked. Amongst facades which have crumpled, dissolved and, in some cases entirely fallen away, a fresh coat of paint changes the regularity of grey for a brilliant mural. Where the other buildings lay hollow and dead but for the rats and insects, High Hopes hums with a certain new energy. Within the metal doors, new paint and carpet have been laid down; cheap and cheerful, but free of the rot and stench of neglect. The elevator buttons have been wiped free of grime, though the mirrors and banisters of the box are dim with tarnish. Labels mark the floors that are in some order of use, each level somewhere in the middle of renovations. New fixtures and lights shine upon cleanliness, doors and windows open to let the breeze through in an echo of cheerfulness. Despite the hardships, the residents of this building have found a niche where their lives may have the chance to flourish.That gives a fairly clear explanation of the setting of High Hopes, though it doesn't talk about the tenants or how the once ratty old building came into their possession, so I'll do that now!Almost a full year ago, Klieru was a little down on his luck. The students at the big city school he attended didn't care for him any more than the students in his small town, and he was sick of dealing with teenagers who felt he was a spoilt rich kid, having his own apartment in the nicer part of town. He was doing commissions for food and spending money, along side a part-time job to cover most of his rent for himself, when he was contacted by an old Scorchio. Going to the ratty, ugly apartment building, he found a proposition that would change his life; if Eru would paint the face of the building as a massive mural, the Scorchio would give him the building, the only condition being that the basement and ground floors be left as the Scorchio's "Secret Lab." Ignoring the clear insanity of the old dragon, Eru accepted. The others were soon to follow. Dilumas and Eru knew each other as friendly acquaintances, so when Di moved to the big city he was happy to join the Penthouse suite, paying his rent through a.. variety of means. Revenn, after being kicked out of his house for the final time, found an advertisement for a cheap apartment and became the third member, offering his services in turn for his stay. Meikaze and Bohrium followed soon after, as Mei looked for a place to settle down, and eventually Jeulious followed Dilumas for the anonymity of the city. Shai was the last of my pets to join the apartment, being rescued from the shores of the docklands by Dilumas. These are not the only apartment characters, only my own. Other pets include Esyen, Kyern, and Gallium, as well as some currently non-existing pets. I'm not going to cover them because they don't belong to me, but if you like I can get their info too.
Quilt  Now it's time to meet my quite extensive Neofamily. I have, across four accounts, thirteen pets; four Draiks, two Shoyrus, two Kougras, a Wocky, a Lupe, an Eyrie, a Grarrl and a Uni. I love them all dearly, and have very deep back stories for all of them, because one of your requirements is that all pets must have a custom design, I'll mention everyone briefly, but the High Hopes pets will get more attention due to their relation to Kahia. Rah is a psychopathic demigod of nightmares. His essence was forced into the mind of a telepathic Draik when Dilumas disbanded the One Form. The original owner of the body fled, leaving Rah in a vegetative body. Rah's external appearance is actually a 'hologram' projected from the mind of his host.  He uses Blanked, his Droolik, as his senses, which means he occasionally makes mistakes in relation to the location of his body parts (For example, in making himself huge, he might end up larger than the room, and have his body parts disappear into walls.) Though he is currently not involved, he will join the High Hopes story arc soon.
 Boh is just what his name says; Bohrium is a synthetic element with a half-life of twenty two seconds in the real world. My Bohrium is quite similar, the only real differences being that he's sentient, and has a feline form which he can collect himself into. Boh spends most of his time 'haunting' the apartment, leaving the molecules which make his physical form possible stored in the electricity of Mei's tail and mane. He finds Ka to be a wonderful companion, being synthetic as he is, and will often spend hours talking to her; most find him uncomfortable to speak with as it involves talking to blank air, but Ka is just content to have him to listen to her.  Ka also occasionally allows him to temporarily control her body if he needs to do things but cannot work up the energy to create his form. This is unfortunate, as Boh gets envious quickly and occasionally stirs trouble to show his discontent.
 Di completes the Illusion Trio, being the 'sensible' member of the 'One Form'. Di is Mirage and Deceit, two of the more fickle portions of illusion, however despite this he is a rather honest and straightforward guy. He spends most of his time catching fireflies or seeking out the good parties in the city; due to his phosphorescent nature he's particularly partial to black light parties and raves where he can pretend to be just a normal Draik. Most of the time, he's the Apartments comic relief. He's brilliant at creating illusions and performing tricks, and will often respond to conflict by tricking the other members into a joke. He does, however, have a problem with taking the easy route; if a disagreement is threatening to become a large issue, he will alter the minds of those involved, giving them the illusion of a solution without ever coming to one. While this works in the short term, many times his illusions are so strong that he himself is caught by them, and things then explode. Di is Ka's new master, but his Demigod status allows him to keep hold of his sanity despite her endless chatter.  He finds her whimsical and intriguing, and she's a chick magnet too, so who can complain? Ka thinks very highly of Dilumas, too, and dotes over him as much as she did her first master. Her respect and adoration of him is actually a little disturbing for outsiders, and tend to lead to a bit of ego on Di's part.  Duplicity is currently undergoing a redesign, and will likely be morphed into a Bori or possibly a Krawk for her design. Unfortunately, I'm struggling with her currently, but she'll be designed eventually.  Eyrin just recently went through a redesign which has caused me to totally overhaul his personality. I can only offer a rough estimate of his character, him being something of a terse 'he-man'  with an underlying split personality. The split is a large one, though, and a timed one; during the winter his more intellectual side presides, while during the summer his more physically active side is prominent.  A young Lupe, Jeul has an unusual talent, and an even stranger past. Jeulious was born in a litter of three in a poor household on Neopia. In her youngest days, she was an outgoing young pup, but also an unusual one as far as appearance went. Though she matched her siblings in many traits, her markings were a dull rainbow, rather than a bright solid colour, and they glowed at random moments. When it was discovered that her markings reacted to the presence of precious metals and gems, Kredulor Corp 'acquired' her and set her to work on the moon of Neopia, finding deposits of valuables. Once, when a shipment was going out, Jeul stowed away, and before the Corporation knew it, she had been crated off to Mystery Island,  where she retreated to live under a Neohome in relative peace. Eventually Kredulor Corp followed her there, and so she fled, to the city where Dilumas lived. Jeul finds Ka endearing, but also has moments where the little golem frightens her. She likes to listen more than talk, which means they get along nicely. Pretty boy and owner of High Hopes, Eru was the beginning of it all. An artist and a lover of Music, Eru is a fairly average teenager; somewhat rejected by the other children in his small town, he relied heavily on his own creativity to survive his younger years. He was unusual for a Kougra, with no stripes and a dull colouration, so he started to draw markings on himself, in various bright colours. This didn't change the opinions of his small-town classmates, and so when choosing a high school, he moved out to the big city, where he could become comfortable in his own fur. He goes to high school in the city, preferring Art and English, but struggling in physics and geography. He's not very socially active as far as his peer group goes, but he is close with almost all of the members of the Apartment. Eru's responsibilities with the apartment include deciding responsibilities, painting and small repairs, collecting rent, and delaying demolition. He comes from a fairly well off family, and they help with the rent occasionally too. He finds Ka creepy and off-putting, but will ignore her as long as Dilumas is around to control her.  Guardian of a small island, Korruu's a pretty quirky character. He's particularly enamored with plants and animals, and has an overwhelming parenting instinct, an unusual trait for a male hermit. He is incredibly protective and loving of those he calls his family, but is entirely passive. Some say it's impossible for him to raise his voice,  and true enough he never been seen responding with violence, no matter the provocation. While some might think this would be ineffective for a guardian, Korruu has gained the favor of Mystery Island locals, who respect the boundaries of his island and are careful to never infringe on him.  Layenni is the first born of the Illusion trio, and the dream portion of the One Form. She embodies this in every way, shape and form, from her light, airy build to her intollerance of Albinerah's presence. Hatched and reared by Korruu, she learned a great deal of respect for the plants and animals of this realm. However, she wasn't well socialized and is shy and flighty, especially around creatures bigger than she. Layenni has the capability to enter her own realm through a fluid portal, which forms at her will.  Hanging stars in the sky is an unusual job, but one that Kia takes upon herself. The stars are made of energy, which she extracts from herself, though it's hard to say how she does it.  Like Korruu, her younger brother, she is very anti-social and is very protective of her loved ones. However unlike him she is prone to violence and intimidation as necessary to get her way. Kia can be viciously mean, but really is just a very sad, tired, lonely creature.  Shai is a Scianta, a species of dragon who live around a "Blue Hole" somewhere in the oceans on Neopia. Because of their location they switch frequently between deep sea, cave, and land habitats, which is aided by their ability to greatly alter their appearance with little effort. Scianta can change sizes and colours at will, and have luminescent pads on their bodies and fins for identification between themselves. Shai lost her father when she was young, the accident causing such strain on her mother that she was essentially abandoned. Befriended by the male who had caused her father's death, she spent most of her life on top of the island, apart from the caves that her clan lived in. It is a tradition for female Scianta to take part in a chase, in which the males follow a female in an effort to prove their worth. During this chase, Shai collided with a fishing boat, became tangled in a poorly fastened net, and was dragged to shore,  where Dilumas found her and nursed her back to health. Shai lives in the Bathtub at the apartment, spending most of her time in her smallest, quadrupedal form. Ka is very wary of Shai, due to her close relationship with Dilumas. Being an envious creature, she likes to sabotage the aquatic Draik. Dilumas has been very firm that Ka be friendly to Shai, though, and so Ka is. Mei's history is a hazy one, mostly due to her subspecies; The Kylmein are a somewhat xenophobic clan of Wockies, their suspicion of others stemming from the welcome that their unusual powers normally receive; Kylmein produce an unusual mixture of pheromones and combustible chemicals in the glands at their neck and at the base of their tail; the most common Kylmein would be those that have a constant electric charge coming from those two points, however there are some who instead have fire, glowing gasses or clouds. Mei is the most common, and nothing all too special for her kind as far as appearances go.  The one thing that set Mei apart from her family was her curiosity, and so when she was only a teenager she headed out into the wild world. Mei will tolerate just about anything for a stable home. So long as Ka doesn't go showing up in her room late at night, the plushie is fine by her.  Rev is a helplessly sweet chef. One of the eldest members of the apartment, he's something of a father figure for the youngest of the tenants, unusual seeing as his own father was a harsh, neglectful soul who kicked him to the streets more than once over his lifetime, all because of his passion; you see, Revenn is a chef. A good one, too; he earned a full scholarship to NICA, The Neopian Institute of Culinary Arts, and has a solid job at an upscale restaurant as a souschef, which allows him to provide for not only himself but the other members of High Hopes. Rev does most of the cooking, including grocery shopping, a massive job which pays his rent in full. He also acts as something of a therapist, and as a mediator between the younger, more irritable members of the apartment. He specializes in a very soothing homemade hot chocolate, and comfort foods like chicken parmesan and home made macaroni and cheese. Revenn likes to listen, so Ka doesn't bother him that much. He likes to watch horror movies with her for some unknown reason, and has made it something of a Saturday night tradition.
Question Creation  Oh, the Whys of the application. Mundane and repetitive as they are, they do seem rather pertinent to applying for a pet, don't they? This section is long and full of reasoning that presumably you could decide on your own. It is rather convenient, though, and it has a bit of meaning to me. An interesting point, though I can't bring myself to give it it's own sub header, would be that I first designed Kahia as a distraction from missing one of my friends. Normally my personal sounding board, primary roleplay partner, and creative sponge, after not seeing him for a month I was feeling irate and miserable. Without an output, I felt like I might just explode. So I went through Neopound, looking for pets that I found pleasing. Conversion had caught a number of the pets, which was what turned me to Kahia. It's not unheard of for me to pick a pet and just design them for fun, with no real intention of applying, but for Ka, it was different. Maybe it was because I was so art blocked before, or because I hadn't written in almost three months, but she grabbed on and wouldn't let go.Why Kahia? With a self-explanatory title, I can't even harp on for an introduction. D': Which is too bad. The first reason that I wanted Kahia is her non-converted format. Plushie Kougras were one of my absolute favorite pets, and originally I was saving for my own, until the big change came onto Neopets. All that I loved about Plushies was lost; no more unique poses, no more snuggly smiles. They were blank and robotic like any other pet. If I was going to put my heart and soul (and time!) into getting a Plushie Kougra, it couldn't be through Neopoints. Yes, I admit it; that's what had me hooked straight off the bat. The second reason would be simple inspiration. I've had the Golem Plushie idea for a while, but it didn't have a manifestation; in fact, I offered it to friends who were designing plushies of their own. Kahia, though, hit a note in my mind, and everything fell into place. Next would be her name. Normally, when I apply on a whim, I fall out of interest within a few days, dump the idea, and dance along my merry way. But not with Kahia. As soon as I turned to the idea, the pieces started falling into place. You see, Ka is the word for life force in Egyptian. In old Jewish tales of the Golems, the creator puts the word "Life" in Hebrew on the forehead or on a slip of paper within the Golem, giving it life. I used Egyptian because it was part of her name.  Most importantly, her character. I have a lot of designs swilling around in my head, many characters who tap at my fingertips and play through my dreams, but I can't seem to get a hold of them. I know who they are, I know their stories and their appearances, but I cannot for the life of me bring them from my mind to paper. Kahia, though, seemed to jump outwards. One drawing, and she was alive. Why Me? Why pick me? Why, my winning smile is the number one reason! Or my humor! Or my hugely irritating rambles! Oh, wait. Those aren't good things D: Well, the why me section gives you the upside, the perks of looking at me as Ka's new owner. First would be that I have some semblance of an artistic will. I am no Mindsend, or Fatal Mantis, but I can draw at a level that makes me content and I haven't had a comment about how nice my "tree" was when I was drawing a cat for... I'd say at least a week. Naturally I'll be drawing Kahia for the Beauty Contest; I don't enter often, to be honest, but when I am in, I'm in to gold ban. I've received gold twice in Grarrl with Revenn, and twice in Draik, once with Dilumas and once with Loshai. Klieru can't seem to get a break as far as BCing goes, mostly because he's so dull in colouring. Most of his spark is in his personality, which makes him less eligible for BC votes. Ka has the best of both worlds, and with her, I am positive I'll be able to break my Kougra losing streak. Next would be my petpages. Entirely complete, no, but almost all of my pets have some semblance of a layout or content posted somewhere. I put a lot of time and effort into bringing my petpages up to snuff, and am constantly reviewing and editing and adding. Recently I purged a number of petpages in hopes of improving them. While it's left things a little bare, it was a necessary step to me. My designs are my pride and joy. I put hours into detailing parts of my pets in ways that few people think of, and I'm frequently complimented on the quirks and uniqueness they have. I intend to go into character design professionally after I've gone to university to get myself a more 'reliable' job, as it really is my passion. 
High Hopes, in my mind, is a positive factor too; It sounds really conceited of me, of course, but High Hopes is a successful (if small) venture which keeps many of my characters (Including Ka!) deeply involved with one another and with me. I could spend all day talking about the relationships, trials, and triumphs of the High Hopes crew. My characters seem to thrive with it, and so do I. Why not me? Equally important and many times more painful, the why not me section burns with the heat of a thousand suns! Well, maybe just one. But it's under the hole in the ozone layer! The following is why I do not deserve Kahia. I apply for pets a lot. In fact, it's one of my biggest Neopian hobbies, which can lead to some pretty negative connotations. I also happen to essentially live on the Neopound forums, which keeps me pretty close to all the action. If you're curious, my last application was in May. My petpages aren't done, even if I have a good start on them. I have completed Klieru's, though, and Di's is currently being touched up from his year-old info. I don't draw final pieces a lot, which is really bad. I love drawing, I'm pretty good at it, I doodle a lot, but I see people who pop out two or three polished pictures of a pet a week and I feel like crying. I do maybe two nice pictures a month, and not all of them are Neo related. I do a lot of art trades and adoptable trades, which takes up drawing time too, but doesn't get me working on my pets. Procrastination is not my middle name, it's my first. Plain and simple, if it needs me immediately I will fail. That's the primary reason why nothing is done. I have heaps of complete content scattered through my computers and my mind, but danged if I managed to upload any of it. It's a recent realization, but I simply am not all that friendly to most folks in Neopia. I don't go out of my way to hurt people's feelings, but it seems that more often than not someone is upset by the way I word this thing or that. I'm brutally honest, irritatingly stubborn, and too confident of myself sometimes. Finally, I am not a particularly inclusive person when it comes to roleplaying and the like. I like to cling needily to my friends and never let them go, which makes it hard to spread out and learn new tactics. I also have a rambling problem and tend to scare people away. Stitch in Time  They say that no golem should be capable of speech; to speak is to have a soul, the blessed scholars once said, and no creation of man is perfect enough to be given such a gift. My master, clearly, was of much greater knowledge and skill than these writers of old. They simply did not know how to bestow their own Golems with speech. They were too incompetent to give their Golems true life. So they claimed that giving a golem a soul was dangerous. Do I look dangerous to you? No, no of course I don't. Because I'm not. I am simply Kahia.I can remember every moment my life has offered me, right from my beginning. One hundred years is a long time to remember, but my master wanted me to keep the moment that he created me forever, and so I did. It started with the feeling of a heavy weight within my belly. Something was settling into position just behind my arm joints, and I knew immediately that that something had given me life. I could only see the world in a warped form through my new glass eyes, but it was something wonderful nonetheless. The workbench below me was rough and mesmerizingly patterned, and I could see shining scissors and string nearby my body. While I was taking in the world before my eyes, I felt the tickle of more cotton being pushed in to me, and then a sharp, pulling pain. I couldn't speak, not quite yet, so I couldn't tell my master that it hurt. That was okay, though, as I'm sure he would have helped if he knew he was hurting me, and besides, he was very quick with his needle. Soon enough I was all but whole; one thing remained. My mouth had a ivory ribbon stitched through it, an incantation written on it in dove's blood which kept my from uttering my first words, from grasping my soul. Work calloused hands wrapped around my center, picking me up by the hard metal ball within me, turning my fishbowl vision to the shop around me, and to my master for the first time. He looked haggard and weary, his blue eyes red without sleep, his hair and beard long and messed. His thin lips were pulled into a grim line, and I was instantly curious to what he was doing, attentive to the upcoming command. He exhaled and hot air blew across my face. Golem, I have given you life." His voice was thunderous in my unused ears, but I did not tilt them back; my master's voice filled my entire body with warmth. "In turn, you will serve me, loyally and truly. I have spent twenty years in your creation, assuring that you would be nothing but perfect, so that you may serve me to the fullest. You are the most powerful of your kind, little golem. Not only have I given you life, but I have given you a soul. Do you understand me?" He paused, his intense gaze planted right into my eyes, seeming to dig into me. I only hesitated for a moment before nodding, trying to stay looking at him even as my head bobbed; an impossible task with my static, glass eyes.Your greatness shall be unsurpassed, then, little one. I give you your life force, your Ka." And then, slowly, with the utmost care, his fingers grasped the ribbon, carefully withdrawing the last barrier between myself and my soul. Within an instant the world had changed. As the last twist of silk fled my lips the world seemed to jump, colours and light shining, everything breathing, my domed vision snapping to a more accurate depiction. It was overwhelming, that feeling. Few will ever experience it, and it is unexplainable to creatures who have had a soul for their entirety. It was a wonderful sensation. I turned to my master, lips curled back against my powerful metal jaws, and spoke; the first words to ever leave the maw of a Golem. I humbly thank you, Master, for this gift." I didn't know where the words were coming from, nor did I understand their formality, and yet they felt right. "I shall follow you to the ends of the earth, your bidding is my purpose." Slowly, I stood, my velveteen fur rippling, suede paw pads flexing as they touched the roughness of the wood. Standing on the table I towered over him, my then much-grander form hunching slightly so that I could see into his eyes. Shifting back uneasily, he let out a deep breath. You're perfect. You really are. Well then, you'll need a name." Silence, Ka!" Master's voice crackled harshly as he shouted, heaving a pair of scissors at me from his worktable. Aghast, I leapt back from the sharp instrument and clamped my maw shut, my ears flicking back. This was not the first such incident, and surely, I was doing something consistently wrong. I ached to ask him how I could do right in his eyes again, but it seemed whenever I was near I was ordered into silence. Sitting sullenly by the doorway, I peered at my reflection in the glass of the store door. My face was wide and powerful looking, with small, round ears and thick clumps of fabric fur on my cheeks. Creamy white rimmed my painted glass eyes and my leather-lined maw, contrasting against the deep auburn of the top of my muzzle and forehead. Behind that was my powerful body, hunched a little at the moment, with the same cream as an accent to my belly and the same auburn everywhere else, marked by regal black stripes, accurate to every painful detail. I was an incredibly impressive creature. I was as long as a man was tall; six feet, and I had jaws and claws far more powerful than the creature I was created after. Behind my soft, cream coloured lips was a foot trap of the finest steel, with enough tension that I could remove a limb with little effort. Within my paws, short knife blades were tucked, prepared to swipe at the nearest intruders. I played two roles in my master's toyshop, advertiser and guard dog, lure and trap. But I enjoyed it, because it was what my master wished of me. I was an extravagant creation not only in my sentiency, which none were aware of, but even in terms of the workmanship my master put into my body. He needed security and I offered him that. Starting from my thoughts, I turned towards the workbench he hunched over, hearing his voice murmuring lowly. Quietly, so not to upset him, I padded over, sitting back on my haunches to peer at what he was working on. He held in one hand a tiny plush bear, his nimble fingers holding back the fabric of his chest, and between the thumb and forefinger of his other hand he held a sparkling stone. I pricked my ears immediately, alert upon seeing the cargo I was created to protect. With the utmost care, he rested the stone into the cotton of the body, pressing it until it nestled safely within the body of the bear. He then stitched up the seam, cut the string, and held out the bear to me. How does it look, Ka?" He asked, brushing at his hair; he was groomed again, now that I was here, and he seemed healthier, but his eyes stayed bloodshot and desperate in his pale, clean-shaven face. I nodded emphatically as I peered at it, knowing that the little package contained one of the most valuable things he owned. Some people will say that what he was doing was terrible; supporting the evils of the world, ducking the lawful tariffs, but I knew that it was just survival. The law wasn't made to help the people, he had told me once; it was made to help the fat, greedy, rich politicians who lived up in the nice buildings on the hill. Even though those politicians were the ones who bought the delightful things he made, even though he smiled and waved to their children, he seemed to hate them whenever he held one of the little rocks he found so precious. I thought about this, and a touch of bitterness welled up in my chest, though it was instantly replaced with shame. My master had created me and given me the greatest gift of all. Though he may have been angry with me sometimes, and though he changed his mind, I owed him my loyalty, every thought and every feeling. Thinking about whether I wanted to be on a low shelf or behind the counter the next day, I padded out to main storage room of the store, once again the guardian of his little precious rocks. It had been a long time since I had hurt like this; the brisk, methodic stitching on thread through fabric was agonizingly painful to me, each time the needle broke the knit of my fabric it stung, every movement of the thread through my lips started to burn. But still I sat quietly, eyes forwards, not seeing the haggard face of my master. He had changed, yet again, in appearance, now seeming even wilder and more frightened than when I first saw him. He would pause in his stitching every few moments to glance at the window, muttering constant gibberish under his breath as he stared on to me without seeing.
I hadn't meant to upset him as I had. I only wanted to talk about a particularly adventurous moment of the night, but it seemed to upset him greatly. He at first had dashed from the room, howling for me to stay away from him, but after a bit of waiting he returned, bearing the needle and thread. He had told me to sit, which I obeyed, and said to me ������¢���¯���¿���½���¯���¿���½ I still remember it ������¢���¯���¿���½���¯���¿���½ "Finally, silent. Damnable creature, must you always be so cheerful and loud? Never again, never again!" he laughed then, strangely, and had began his grim task. My Master was clearly upset with me, and I felt intense guilt for whatever I had done to deserve this treatment, sure it was my own fault. His fingers were still as nimble as they had ever been, but their touch was coarser, his demeanor the same. As the night wound on he finally finished his work, several layers of rough stitches criss-crossing my maw, and then he left.
The politicians came down into the town a few days later, but this time they had no merry children in tow. Instead, they stood around the front of the shop and shook their heads, hands shoved in pockets, shoulders hunched against the cold as they muttered to one another from under groomed mustaches. I watched them from atop the counter, my body draped over the till in a seemingly careless manner. I did not want them to take my Master's things. After awhile, some brutish looking men came as well, bearing boards and nails, and hammered the planks across the windows, turning day to night once again. Without Master, there were no shoppers, and there were no new shipments. The days crawled away as I sat alone in the eternal dusk of the shop, curiosity welling up like a flame in my chest. Why had my master not returned? When would he be back? Eventually, it all got the better of me. Using my claws, I lifted the door to the storm shelter, dropping into the musty, earthen room beneath the floorboards. They had, of course, forgotten to board up the outside entrance, and the chain that Master placed was little work for my claws ������¢���¯���¿���½���¯���¿���½ I was sure he wouldn't mind my going outside, given the circumstances. I had chosen a good time to take my leave; it was night, and the moon shone, a dim sliver in the sky. Snow had fallen since I had seen the world outside, and it felt cool and crunchy beneath me. If you'll excuse the digression, I should mention that though I am I alive, I am not flesh and blood; I have no body heat to melt snow, and so it stayed crisp beneath me as I stalked through the shadows. The city outside of the little store was equally quaint and charming. A faerie tale village, with thatched eaves dusted with snow, and warmly glowing windows overcome with frost from the outside. Of course, even the cheeriest, snuggest little town has its late night wanderers. As I slipped from the alleyway, I spotted some men clustered just outside the tavern, drunkenly jabbering to one another, loud enough that I could hear. Didja heeeeee-ur about Dawson?" One slurred, leaning back on the wall with a thump. Yeah. Right in the lake, crazy old bloke." Another commented, sounding somewhat more sober than the first. Did his-self in, they's sayin'." piped in the most ragged looking of the men. "Marched out to the lake, smashed out the ice, and jumped right in!" My Master. Dawson was my master, and he had died. I reeled slightly, backing into the dark of the alleyway. Nothing bound me to this place anymore, and my outlandish appearance would cause trouble later. I needed no provisions, and after glancing to my surroundings, I set off into the depths of night. I might point out now, that after living in my Master's warm shop, pampered as could be, the real world came as a painful shock to me. I always had someone chasing after me, shooting at me and hollering all sorts of strange things, and defending myself. Well. It was necessary, but I took no pleasure in it. Without my Master I was feeling pitiful and empty. It didn't take much time for the fabric of my body to fray, my suede paw pads worn smooth, my rich fabric fur torn out in clumps, the stitches across my mouth to loosen, even though I made no attempt to damage any of my Master's work. The wilderness simply wasn't a good place for a plush creature, and soon I would meet my first demise. It had been a few years since I had left the town, and though the going was slow, I had wandered quite far, to the land where the great tigers I resembled lived. Padding through the forest, I took in the sights and scents of my new home. I had no need for food or shelter, or for sleep for that matter, so exploring was all I could do. A deer further along the path spotted me and sprung away, and the little well of pride within me swelled once more for Master. I made chase for the joy of it, knowing full well that I would not harm the dainty creature that sprung away into the night. Its flesh was not needed to satisfy me, only the run. Life went like this for a while, coming across true tigers and their prey, always careful to walk on the border of a territory so that I might escape the wrath of a cat mistaking me for kin. The wilderness was deep and untouched here, and they were my biggest threat until the day when the hunters came. I had been lounging on a near-horizontal tree, my tail flicking side to side, just as the true tigers' tails did. My claws kneaded the bark as I listened to the surrounding wildlife, the birds' wings whispering through the air, the gentle thud of a deer dashing away from something that had startled it. Them, I heard something unusual. The heavy clump of footsteps, and the low muttering of a human voice. Before I knew what to do the shot rang out, rending through my haunch and sending me pell-mell off of my branch. This human was not satisfied with one hole in my fabric, though. He pursued me, his steps blunt and loud on the ground, the forest around us in silent shock; none had seen a creature that could so terrorize a tiger. I dashed along as round after round tore through my rump and haunches, my threadbare paws slipping on the slick backs of roots. Living so deep in a forest had its downsides. A seventh and eighth shot caught my in my neck, and worse, in the back of my head, a whoop of joy escaping from the man who chased me. I gave him no reason to rejoice, though; I continued on running, and soon he was following yet again. I soon realized I was running down a slight slope, but I did not have the time, nor the energy, to think of what could possibly be important about that fact. Of course, I regretted it later; my Master had always told me to use my mind in any situation, but before I could turn heel, I had broken free of the foliage, and splashed into the river. This might not seem like such a bad thing, and it wouldn't have been, if it weren't for the waterfall that I was almost instantly dragged over. As my body fell, it hit a great many jagged stones and rocks, rending my fabric, tearing my limbs from me. I had been threadbare before, and now I was little more than a tattered head and torso, only my foreleg fully attached to my body, though my opposite hind leg still clung to me somewhat. My stuffing fell in elegant curls from the rips as I clambered ashore, the metal ball which kept me alive continuing to do its job, driving me onwards with reckless abandon. In the end, it took more than a decade and eight trees worth of leaves to restuff what was left of my body. I had replaced my missing legs with stout sticks, and had lost almost all of my stealth and speed in finding them. My fabric was wrapped unusually in places, held together with burrs and thorns, because I had no needle or thread. I stayed by the riverside, and watched the deer as I always had, though I never chased them now. I only watched and licked my wounds, proverbially and physically, discontent but unwilling to go on. I had no master, and very little of a body. There was little I could do until one day I received a gift. A large, old buck dropped dead of old age before me. I will, of course, spare you the details, but after having seen Master hand-tan leather for custom work, I was at least somewhat prepared for the task ahead. My jaws and claws allowed me to work quickly and efficiently in gaining my fabric, the sinews I saved as my thread. I had no need for the rest, and I left as soon as my needs were met. Farther away, I tried to match the build Master had given me as my large paws clumsily manipulated the thick, course 'thread.' I could not be as big as I once had been, and I could not be a tiger as I was before, but otherwise, I did a decent job, creating myself a new body to inhabit. It only got hard when it came to adding my 'self' to the other plush. I used only my own cotton within the new body, a strange sensation to say the least, and after I had filled it, the little iron ball within me rolled onto the forest floor. It is, in reality, me. The entire control of my body is in that little ball, and so naturally it couldn't be defenseless. What I did not realize was that in had a number of tiny, folded legs, and some sense of sight. I can't really describe it, but I was able to extract my eyes from the remains of my first body, and stitch them (much more accurately than anything else) into the face of my new body. Then, I crawled into my central seam, and took control of the smaller leather-made feline. I took three days to sew the rest of the seams, unable to cope with the pain for long without my master to request my cooperation. When it was done I was whole again, though a much smaller, rougher whole than my last. Over the next few months I would travel back towards the place I was made, sneaking into towns to lift small spools of thread and packs of needles from fabric shops, repairing myself and improving my original stitching over time. The days wound on, until I finally stumbled across the town where my beginnings were. It had changed, flourished, turned from the quaint poverty of the old days to a small, neat little city, packed with tourists even after the dark of night had fallen. I hid for months, wandering between garbage cans, slipping out only in the early morning when it seemed that the baker was the only person in the whole world; he would mistake me for an abnormally large alley cat every time he saw me, and paid me little heed. I didn't know why I stayed in the city, with no bonds to it to speak of, but I did, wandering undisturbed for a handful more years. Unsleeping, I had more than enough time on my paws to partake in everything the nightlife had to offer. It was one such evening when I ran into my new master, a gawky, bright eyed teenaged boy who went by the name of Robert. Well, I guess I didn't really run into him, he caught me in a garbage can; a clever boy, I never really had a chance. I fought all I could, and did a fair bit of damage to the metal bin; I took a chomp out of one edge and left six penetrating gouges in its side before he hissed at me to be silent. I obeyed. Robert caught on instantly to the fact that I understood him, and proceeded to quiz me on my origins and where my master was. When I explained that I was from this city (several decades previous), and what had happened to my master, he nodded and firmly stated "Golem, you are now mine." Robert was a clever boy, which left me to mostly menial tasks. Watching his belongings, stirring up trouble for his enemies, sitting around under his bed all day waiting for his mother to stop cleaning his room and go elsewhere. I preferred the forest to this life, though he was fairly good with his hands and mended me often, even going so far as to paint the markings of a Puma on me when I requested it of him. He had a certain ability to pick out things no one else could see, bad or good, but he spent most of his time alone.I was naturally more than a little surprised when, one day, a girl came home with him. They had a project to do together in school, I discovered stuck beneath the bed. It was about natural history and I couldn't help but be intrigued. Creeping closer, I watched as the two of them flicked through thick library books, talking and flirting with one another between facts. I felt a little betrayed, after being Robert's one true friend, that he was talking with this girl. It was unfair of me, as Master is always right, whether it was Master then or Robert now. After watching for an hour, the girl spun around on the spot, sprawling out on her belly. I am so bored!" She drawled, peering up at Robert before lowering her head to her arms. I couldn't do much of anything with her down there, so I froze, hoping she wouldn't spot me. Naturally, she did. "Ro-Beeeeert! It's so cute!" She squealed at a painfully high pitch, reaching out and grabbing me. "You have a little plushie! That's adorable, what's his name?" Had I eyelids, I would have been wincing, not daring to squirm in her hands. Her." He said, startled. "Her name is Ka. I found her a few years ago. Put her back." He didn't want to get into the complexity of being a young man with a plush toy, I could tell.Ka isn't a very pretty name." The girl whined, holding me closer to her face. "You're a Puma, you pretty little thing. You're far too pretty to have a Kaka name like Ka." She seemed pleased with herself, but all I could do was stay as still as possible. Master had named me, and only Robert could change that. "I'm from where Pumas are from, and in the native language, Kahia means beauty. I think it suits you perfectly. Kahia." Though I loathe to admit it, I loved the name the first time I heard it. Robert let out a distressed groan, though, and gestured at her. Stephanie, put her away now please.With Stephanie in his life, I became less and less important. I would sit for months on end, neglected and ignored, reduced to cleaning his room or finding his belongings when he remembered I was there. Eventually, He forgot about me entirely. I was locked away in the storage room of his mother's house, amongst other castoffs of clothing and toys. While it wasn't in my nature to let it happen, my loyalty began to fray. His life had pulled us so far apart that it came as a shock when he came back to me. Kahia! Kahia, guess what?" His voice rung loud through the normally silent room. For a moment, I wasn't sure that I had really heard him. "Ka? Are you ignoring me?" Were I anything but what I am, I likely would, but I could not hold back my nature. No, not ignoring you." I called in return, standing, my legs soft with age as I stumbled along towards his voice. I wound my way through the boxes, and sat just within the shadows that I was now used to. Come out here Kahia, you look creepy lurking back there." He stepped backwards, opening the door wider. I only then realized he was calling me Kahia, but I wandered forwards anyways. My first Master was dead. Negligent or no, Robert was my Master now. "It's been awhile, girl." He said, kneeling and reaching out to me like I was some elderly dog. "C'mere. My life has changed a lot, Kahia. We're moving North, maybe to Canada" I hurried closer then, my ears strained forwards. We. He and I. Moving meant we could get away from Stephanie; it meant that he would pay attention to me once again. I could be helpful, and we could talk. I was so lonely back then, not having anyone to talk to. To Canada? Canada sounds nice, I'd like that!" I chirped, my voice sounding unfamiliar and syrupy sweet. I didn't mind it that much. "Are we going soon?" As soon as Steph has the baby." The metal weight in my center seemed to become one hundred times heavier, and I sat down. Baby?" He didn't seem to notice my disappointment, though, nodding and showing me the back of his hand where a metal band showed. You've been down here for a long time, haven't you?" I neglected to respond. "Steph and I are married. Have been for some ten years now. Sorry I've left you down here for so long, but, as I said, my life has changed." Closer now, I inspected him. He was bigger than when I last saw him, and more solidly built. Glasses sat on his face, his nose now crooked where he had presumably broken it. "Anyways. I've got some stuff for you to handle. I've got a few problems at work. I'm a lawyer now." Pausing, he looked around "This place could use a bit of a clean-up before we sell it, too." He mumbled rocking back on his heels and reaching out to me. "C'mon, I'll explain on the way to my house." Robert had left me in that basement for twenty years while he finished his education and began his career and family. I tried my best to not be bitter about it, but it was hard. As my master it was his right, but then, everything was his right. I had once thought that only Stephanie could steal his attention from me; now he had a daughter, and another on the way. On the bright side of the situation, the girl child he had delighted in my company, and I in hers, despite my jealousy of the attention her father gave her. Honestly, it was a relief to be spoken for, to be fed imaginary tea, even to be dragged by my tail in the name of making a child happy. The life of a toy was so far superior to the life of a sentry that I occasionally questioned my need to obey Robert. I grew to dislike my patrols of Robert's land, though his paranoia was well founded and so long as the warmth stayed I was quite occupied with the various criminals who came to do him harm. Spring, summer and even autumn were well enough, but winter was as bitter as I was; no man dared leave tracks in the thick snow that blanketed the ground, and so I was left in the sleet and snow to guard against nothing. It didn't take long for Stephanie to realize that I was not a normal plush toy. She found my presence disturbing, and often tried to remove me from the house. The previous adoration she felt was replaced with a vigilant suspicion, which often had her catching me as I moved. There was little I could do about it, though, as she grew fretful and paranoid about not only me, but everything else in the house. Robert frequently came to me to tell me to be more careful as he tried to soothe his wife's fears, but even I couldn't help that she would sit staring at me for hours on end until I had no choice but to twitch, sending her scurrying for him to prove that I was possessed. She became miserable and craven, clinging to Robert and begging him constantly to be rid of me. But he kept me, knowing I was all that kept his family safe; that with me around no harm could reach to him. Well. Most harm. The second child was of little interest to me. A small, blue-clad grub, Stephanie refused to allow him near to me. Her gurgled and drooled and spat up constantly, which meant it was a happy enough arrangement, though he often cried in envy of his sister. Many people blamed Stephanie's behavior on the baby. The stress of him, with Robert working increasing hours was too much, they said. No one suspected that she could ever be correct in her accusations of a silly little plush toy.The girl child was bigger now, old enough to go school, to learn more of the world. I spent most of my time with Stephanie then, seeing as we were alone in the house. More and more often houseguests would murmur politely behind their hands that her sanity was slipping, more and more often I would see her trembling as if cold even in the heat of day. I was there in the girl's arms at the big building, listening to the tragic music, watching the tears flow. Few friends seemed surprised when she went away, though they all murmured how terrible it was, how she should have gotten help; Robert, however, seemed shocked. It was as if he had thought the world would wait for him to return, and be the exact same as he had left it... as if he had been in a dark storage room as his family changed above him. The children were around even less now; Robert left the boy in the care of a daycare, and the girl was busy with school. She had abandoned me for friends, makeup and clothes, but I understood. He stopped going to his office, preferring to pace the study that had once been his wife's workspace, muttering to himself. The loneliness was hard on him, but I was sure to always be there with him. I talked about everything I could think of, from the weather to his work, to the children. I asked questions, insisted he tell me about what had happened in the time I had been in the basement, anything to keep him busy. He slept and ate less, an eerily familiar glaze of fanaticism showing in his eyes as the days passed. I tried my best to ignore it. It took a long time for the veil of normalcy to fall, but once it did the entire world seemed to come tumbling down. It had been a year since Stephanie had left when the children stopped coming home altogether, the small pile of newspapers in the foyer punctuated with summons to court over neglect charges. Robert no longer left the study except to retrieve the food that was delivered to the house or to use the washroom. I didn't leave it at all, my guard posts long forgotten in favor of being there for my Master. Thieves and criminals no longer seemed interested in the home anyways. He did his work in sporadic spurts, only making enough money for him to subside on, the rest of the time he spent mumbling to himself frantically, much like my creator had long ago. I continued to deny that it was happening again, continued to talk quietly to him through the night. Robert had never been violent with me; he had never yelled at me for silence. He was not turning into my master, I assured myself. Of course I was wrong. It was late at night and Robert had been working all day long. It was strange to see him work for more than an hour at a time, but I thought nothing of it. At my gentle insistence he grumbled that he had some important business to deal with, and so I simply watched him, bringing up small tidbits of my own past that he had already heard a million times. Eventually, he turned off his screen and swung around to face me, peering down at my leather-clad body. Ka, could you do a quick patrol of the house, please?" He asked, somehow sounding more familiar than normal. I tilted my head, peering up at him. Something was wrong. He stared down at me blankly for a moment, then shook his head. "Well? Get moving!" Even my light steps sent tiny mushroom clouds of dust to the air in the neglected reaches of the house, the lonely rooms seeming to sigh as I pushed through their doors. The entire home seemed frozen in time; dishes sat in the sink, unscrubbed; clothes lay part-folded in the laundry room; toys were left haphazard sprawling across the floor. Not a thing lay out of place, though, and so I returned to the study. Suddenly, my senses were flooded with panic; a thick, pungent scent was rapidly filling the air around me, seeping from under the door. Leaping to the door I sat back on my haunches, clumsily trying to grip the slippery doorknob with my forepaws. Desperation screamed in my belly as I heard a heavy thud. I couldn't panic. Not now. Leaning pack, I stared at the door, then carefully opened my maw. Tenderly, I pressed the knob against my stitches, whining at the resistance I found. My master needed me. Ka?" His voice was quiet, and startled me. He was awake. "Ka, please come. Please help me!" Lunging forwards, I ignored the burning pain as I tore my stitches, biting the very handle from the door. It wheezed open, and I pounced forwards. My master sat on the floor, staring at me, unmoving. A red plastic jug's contents were poured over him and around the room, leaving it to reek of what I would later know was gasoline. Padding forwards, I nudged him, and he turned to me. Ka." He mumbled weakly. "Ka, Ka, Ka. I see why she did it, now." I tilted my head, confused. What was he talking about? "Why, Ka? Why did you ruin me? Why did you take it all away?" Reaching over to me, he pulled me into his arms, and stood. Nuzzling my head against his shoulder, I sighed. It's okay, master. I'm still here. I still love you.And then he lit the match. I rested, buried deep beneath the ash, undisturbed by the scuffling search of the firemen.
After my body had burnt away Robert's clutch on me loosened. My metal core had rescued my eyes and protected them while the house fell in around us. The wreckage kept them busy enough that no one dug for me, and once the flow of people ended I crawled from the hole and scuttled away, my tiny mechanical legs dancing down the concrete street. I was free again. I did not roam pointlessly like I had in my previous masterless days. Before anything else, I knew I needed a body, and quickly found my way across the town and into a sewing store; it's funny that I managed the distance in little more than two days, when the same distance would have taken me weeks or even a month in my larger plush form. Carrying my scorched eyes along with me, I found a bin of scrap fabric and set to work constructing myself a body. The job was a slow and tedious one, the small, spindled metal of my legs working needle and thread with a limited sense of sight. The old woman who owned the store only worked on one garment at a time, limiting the speed that I could work at as I patched myself together with whatever I could find. This also meant that I did not turn out a total mish-mash of colours and patterns, though, so I suppose I should be thankful.When all was said and done I was an eighth my original size, my body just large enough that the metal ball could tuck into my chest cavity. The size of a proper plushie, I stitched the final seams around my neck and set out into the world outside. Winter had returned, and the ground was swathed with heavy, wet snow. I struggled through the drifts as I wandered the streets, watching from a distance, careful to not get caught this time. I was free, and this time, I would take advantage of it.I had the misfortune of choosing the beginning of winter to leave the warm, dry confines of the biped's world, and what I had thought to be a heavy blanket of snow turned out to be a light dusting for the region I was in. It seemed that every time I rested I ended up under a new heap of snow. Several times I ended up plowed into snow banks, soaked through with slush and bitterly cold, miserable despite my freedom.The city streets were not built for a small plush toy, but they were cleared often and I was able to wander great distances in the dead of night, weaving between buildings and discovering the filth that seeped behind their flashy facades. This duality struck a chord within me, and I became anxious to leave. I was repulsed by the synthetic hum of the metropolis, drawn away as if by some magnetic force. Within a month I had strayed to the very border of the city, where squat, grey warehouses lay like cement slugs amongst the brush lands. It was atop one of these that I found what I was looking for. Far off, on the sickly yellow horizon, a haphazard cluster of buildings sprouted, like a cluster of disheveled mushrooms. There was no appeal to it, far away as it was down a shoddy, narrow road, and yet I felt drawn to it. So, with nothing better to do, I set off in the snow, towards the second city. The going was rough in the deep, unplowed snow, my paws freezing through with slush and becoming heavy and ungainly, but I didn't turn back. The bitterness of winter struck a high point one night, in a howling, freezing culmination of snow and hail. I hunkered down, fearful I would lose my path in the blizzard, and let the wet snow overcome me. Eventually the storm went quiet, the snow atop me a comforting blanket of coolness. With a careful sense of determination, I squirmed through the three feet of snow above me, and discovered a whole new world. The brush lands were gilt with silver, icicles shimmering on trees, the snow seeming to glow in the sun's bright rays. Hoarfrost licked along the branches of the scrubby trees, changing their bleak, barren trunks to diamond-studded scepters. Carefully, I wandered away from the hole I had made. My paws pressed into the snow, but it seemed firm enough, and so I was on my way again, feeling out of place in this beautified world. Within a few days the banal grey of pollution had returned to my surroundings, and I felt sadly comforted by its familiar bleakness. I was not a beautiful creature, not any longer, and my mismatched patches and rough stitching made me feel like I belonged in the miserly little city. By the time I reached the city, the grey winter had turned to an equally grey spring. I felt trapped between the cement, the slush and the sky. Like I was where I belonged, but still out of place. Eventually, I stopped caring. I sat indifferently between garbage cans, watching the world go by, not needing sleep or food to sustain myself. With no master, I had no meaning. No needs or desires to drive me. I still felt the sickly pulling in my chest, but I had no will to follow it, and so I sat, miserable and alone. Now, I just might be crazy, but you just moved, didn't you?" At first I didn't realize he was talking to me. A tall lizard crouched in front of me, hunkered low to the grimy ground in front of me. I realized that I, too, was on the ground, and lifted one paw anxiously. "Yep. You definitely move." You look funny!" I was almost immediately embarrassed for the uncalled for outburst. It must have been comical to him, though, as he burst in to laughter. Indeed I do. What with the glowing spots and the big ears." He reached out to me carefully, his glowing green hands warm. "But you aren't exactly a charmer yourself." I stared up at him, his dark grey skin flecked with green, his eyes peering intensely down at me. I could use a bath." I admitted slowly, placing my paws on his chest and wriggling to get comfortable. The strange yearning seemed to have dissipated, and after a moment I was snugly cradled against his elbow. I don't suppose you're machine wash friendly? I was kidding!" He laughed at my stare, patting the top of my head. "So, what's your name, anyways?" Heart of Steel  Now we've found the interesting part! This is the section that will make or break this application; all of the supporting work might be important, but at the core of it all what's more important than the character herself? Heart Of Steel Ka's character profile section, which covers her appearence, stats, likes and dislikes, and descriptions of both her physical and mental makeup. It is Ka in a nutshell, and happens to also be one of the few places in this application where there isn't a nightmarish text-to-info ratio.Physically, Ka is an unassuming little creature. Approximately the size of a football, she's pudgy and snuggly in build. Her primary fabric is slate blue, being a soft but smooth synthetic patched with various blue and green swatches of the same fabric. She is somewhat roughly made, with plenty of stray stitches and oddly attached patches, having stitched herself while in a form with no fine motor skills and no vision. Her face is round and friendly looking, with large rounded ears. Her right ear is a lighter grey than the rest of her face, and its inside is acid green, while the inside of the left is fluorescent blue. Both of these colors are repeated on their respective eyes; her right has something of an "eyelid" area of green, matched by a triangular patch above her nose. Her left eye has a larger, two-layered patch that spreads to the left. The second layer of the patch is only defined by a crescent seam, which follows the contour of the main patch after showing up around halfway down her eye. Ka's eyes are her only consistent feature through her bodies, as she takes special care to ensure that they stay the same. They are hand made blue glass eyes, which her master forged, especially for her. They contain four shades of blue, which was an unusual luxury at the time; the base shade, a "highlight" shade around the bottom, a dark blue pupil shade, and a fixed 'highlight' for authenticity.  Her mouth is always stitched shut now, after her first Master stitched it in a fit of rage. Even though it's an uncomfortable process and she has to do it herself, every time she makes a new body she completes it and then stitches her mouth shut. Because of her steel-trap jaws it doesn't silence her, however the aesthetic stays, which is what she assumes her master wanted. There is a small patch on the right side of her neck, and an unusual line of stitching on the left, half way down. These are both repairs after an incident with a pair of sewing scissors thrown by a seamstress who was surprised to see a plush toy walking through her sewing supply store in the middle of the night. One of Ka's major seams is at her neck, which was simply too large a space for her to stitch internal seams for. A turquoise patch spreads shoulder to shoulder, where her stitching caused the fabric of her back to fray. Her legs are articulated at the shoulder/hip and the elbow/heel, allowing her a fairly normal gait. The far right side of her right foot has a bright blue patch, and her right heel has a green patch where the pavement wore a spot of fabric away while she was being dragged by her tail by a dog who found her in the trash. Her left leg also sustained some damage on the thigh, which was later worn until it had to be patched as well. Her right thigh has two long scratches on it from her crawling under a chain link fence, and her hindquarters are made from a bolt of the same fabric from a different dye lot. Her tail is short, chronically kinked, and is tipped with bright blue.
 Stats Basic Name: Kahia Pronounced: Kaa-he-ah Nickname: Ka Gender: Female Age: 100 years Species: Kougra Birthday: Unknown Birthplace: Dawson & Sons Fine Toys Appearance Kind: Quad Colouration: Blue-grey Markings: patches of various shades of green and blue Build: short, small and plushie Defining features: Blue glass eyes, stitched over mouth Family Creator: 'unknown' Dawson Previous Masters: Dawson, Robert Life Employment: High Hopes "Guard" Current Accommodations: High Hopes Hobbies: Cuddling plushies, watching movies, following Dilumas around, repairing herself Companion: None Likes and Dislikes
Emotionally speaking, Kahia has some troubles. Because of her origins as a Golem, who exist only to serve, her master's orders override her personal thoughts and feelings. However, because she has a soul, she has her own opinions and can develop emotional bonds, which leads to morals that a normal golem would not have to deal with. Many of her priorities conflict because she has had more than one master, and no one can override the other in her mind even though some are long dead. So even though her creator died some hundred years ago, she still will patrol and guard the property she lives on, and even though Robert tried to destroy her, and she hated his child for receiving his attention, she still loves children and has a constant urge to make them happy.  This does not prevent her from having a personality though; Kahia is talkative and a little off kilter. She enjoys unsettling people, but also loves to have company and is a very active and energetic friend. She is horribly protective over Dilumas, and quickly becomes envious of anyone who tries to get close to him, even those friends that pre-date her. Stirring up trouble and playing pranks are normally her responses to being upset, but she will occasionally lash out physically against someone who pushes her too far. This is very unusual, and normally so long as Dilumas is around she's very friendly and polite if a little immature. If one wanted to put a human emotional age on her, she would be a mature five year old, however her vocabulary, speech, and thought patterns far exceed her emotional limitations due to her longevity .
Cross Stitched  So you've made it this far, have you? We've finally reached shelter from the text, believe it or not! What am I taking about? The art section of course! I'm going to take a minute and start using periods, rather than exclamation points or question marks, as I'm sure it's getting annoying. The art section is chock full of digital and traditional goodness; both my own, that from art trades, and even gifts from the lovely denizens of Neopound. I feel a lot of pride for the artwork that I do, and the challenge of applying for Ka has helped me to improve greatly. Also in this section is Kahia's adoptable set, currently seven strong. By Me       By Others                       Artists Shia / Diane / Kirema / Owl / Karikinet / Zypher Nochi / Deriance / Dire / Sloth / Kiwi__Bird / Dehoot May / Speckled / Scarecrow / Techie / Silver Uzag /Yugi /Snickerbug /Daphie /Owl  
  
    
Adoptable set Please do not take until a proper copy-paste code has been written!       Rolling Onwards  What are my plans for Kahia? It's all fine and dandy that I can write a mile and a half on her, but what does that mean if I don't do anything about it? Rolling Onwards is my future plans section, and please don't fret; I am not refurbishing her with lame rainbow fabric. (And it isn't all that long, either.) All of my pets are unique, individual characters, who are active both on and off of Neopets. All of them have histories, designs, and personalities, as you've already seen for Kahia herself. I am constantly working on improving my pets, through art, pet pages, roleplaying, and the Beauty Contest. Kahia, naturally, will see the same. Design: You've already met my Kahia, have seen her design and know her personality. As time progresses, Kahia will develop further in personality, though her physical design will only progress in small details. I am not given to overhauling pets unless they desperately need it; Korruu and Laykia have had their designs for at least four years and have yet to change. Ka will gain friends and enemies, find more likes and dislikes, and "grow up" in her own way as the High Hopes plot develops. Pet Page: I decided to get ahead of the game, and begin Ka's petpage right here. As you can see, Kahia will not suffer with some guild related nonsense or some generic FAQ, her petpage will be used for her. You can see all the content on that page on this application, but I will be adding more if Ka comes home with me. Included in the petpage would be more art, a finished adoptable set, additional stories, further development of High Hopes, a friends and family section, and links to others. Please note that the layout is temporary, and will be replaced as soon as I have a working desktop to draw a better one with! Pet Lookup: Again, I got ahead of the game and completed her pet lookup as seen here on a namesnagged pet who I'm giving to a friend once the pound comes back up. Beauty Contest: I don't BC often, but when I do I prefer to go for gold. The three pictures I provided in the art section make a wonderful stockpile so I'll be sure to have a new picture every entry for a while. I've BCed several pets with a good amount of success;Dilumas, Loshai, Revenn, and Korruu. 
Role Play: Kahia is... an absolute delight to roleplay. Because of the way she's designed she's very accessable and can interact with a wide range of characters, where a lot of my current pets have limited compatibility (which means that they are only ever roleplayed with my friends). Ka can be roleplayed both with my own specialized pets and with your average Neopian pets as well. Now I have a little sample roleplay, done with Speckled. It isn't complete, but it shows my style and how Ka fits in. My portion is in bold.
Kahia sat coiled on the street corner, her compact plush frame hunched low against the battery of small snowflakes. The night was still young, but winter allowed darkness to creep across the sky earlier and earlier these grey days. She didn't mind particularly, of course. She liked the dark; it was comfort. Snow, however, she did not care for. It reminded her of Master, of the past... of unhappy days. Startling at the uprising of such thoughts, she shook her head. Those times had long ago passed, a hundred years between now and then. Slowly, she lifted her body and padded to the corner of the building, where she would be shielded from the thickening flurries, shrinking to the pavement once more. There she sat for a few moments, until a pair of headlights appeared down the street. A curious sight, as few people bothered to trail into this part of town, and those who did never had cars. It was worth investigation. Quickly she lifted herself, shaking the flakes from her shoulders before she bounded down the street, her fabric paws making no sound as they contacted the damp cement. It was rare to see anyone on her patrols, done more for her entertainment than for security, but she was happy to have a task to attend to now. Her pale blue eyes reflected eerily in the headlights as she prowled closer, noting with a certain glee that it was stopped; that people might actually get out of it. Carefully she crept forwards, ducking her head so her eyes could no longer be seen, and settled on the curb by the door, ready to startle whomever might exit the quietly rumbling vehicle.
The rumble of the car felt comforting to Ryoku, piercing through the lethargic fog of failure that had settled around him from the incident at the labs. He rested his head agains the cold window and watched the world slowly cover itself in the white of a new snowfall. His long coat, neatly folded, sat on the leather seat next to him, and he sensed he would need it, for the snowstorm was building in power. The slums in this part of town held little promise in the way of the mission Ryoku had come here for. He doubted the anonymous tip had contained any real information, but he needed to get away from the darkened mood that Ryoku suspected he had caught from his assistant, Kapi. The car slid to a stop, and Ryoku opened the door. Ka jumped with excitement at the click of the door, her tail flicking franticly back and forth. It was a delightful treat to have someone new to terrorize, she thought to herself as she peered upon the sleek red vehicle. A rich someone too; the type that Master hated when she lived with him at the store. It made her happy to do something he would have enjoyed, though his ownership of her, and he himself had long passed. As the large figure stepped out she retreated slightly, creeping backwards into the familiar shadows. Carefully, she tilted her head, allowing her large glass eyes to catch a small glimmer of light. It was all she needed, she knew, to get the reaction she wanted normally. Her small silhouette was nearly unidentifiable in the drifts of snow now carpeting the ground, but sure enough, her new plaything would see her eyes. Ryoku buckled the golden clasp of his coat quickly. The cold wind tore at his fur when he stepped out, but he took no notice. He stared up at the building before him. It was a thin, ragged-thing, looking desolate and sad in the blizzard. A bit of blue off to the side caught his eye. The landscape was white, and the sky blue flash was like a beacon. He settled upon a small shape--it looked to be a housecat, but it was blue, and seemed to be sewn from several different pieces of fabric. Her eyes were glinting in the light, and they were what had caught his eye. He was fascinated by the small creature, and fished in his pocket until he found his handkerchief, which he wrapped around his paw and reached to pick up the little doll. Not receiving the instant reaction she had been hoping for, Ka patiently watched the man as he pulled out a nice piece of fabric and reached for her, hoping that her stare would spook him and he would retreat as many had before him. That still did not work, and she sat dumbfounded as his covered hand wrapped around her midsection. As he started to lift her she jumped into action, her paws bracing against his wrist as she squirmed, her ears flicking backwards. Her hind legs kicked at the air as she growled at him, the noise not all that threatening given her childish voice. "... Let me go!" She squeaked, batting at his hand with her soft fabric paws, short needle claws bared and catching in the fine handkerchief. "You're supposed to be afraid!" She added, throwing her head back comically as she struggled. Ryoku jumped and dropped the little cat in surprise. He hadn't expected her to /move/ or /talk/. His handkerchief, of course, was shredded. "You... you! You talk!" Ryoku's face lit up in the devilish grin that had earned him the nickname "Satan" around the labs. "Fantastic!" He opened his briefcase, extracted a notebook and pen, and began to scribble furiously in it. Eventually, he slowed, and then stopped. He looked up at the cat. "Oh, excuse my manners." He chuckled in the same kind of manner as his grin. "Do you have a name?" Gawping, she watched his reaction. Not what she was hoping for. Not at all. His -disallowed_word- or if you should do Neopia a favor and call the authorities.) This little space here is for the thank yous, for all the lovely folks who helped me throughout this application. I started off with naming anyone who did anything, but you'd be here another hour for that. So, Neopounders, Xyphero Boarders, those of you who did art, critiqued, or kept me in line, thanks a bunch. I adore you all! I do, however, need a special mention for Kendra, my emotional chewtoy, idea tester, and html guru. (And cookie buyer). The lot of you have made Kahia one of my strongest characters -and the most liberally slathered with fan art, and it means a ton to me. I can be reached on my main account, Appologies over Neo, but an e-mail to Vicats(at)Hotmail.com will reach me just as fast. That's also my MSN.
Please, feel free to drop me a line if you have any questions, comments, or concerns.  (Currently links nowhere.) Family Links     
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