Legacy Name: Miasma

The Nightmare Keeto
Owner: Kitten

Age: 12 years, 3 months, 4 days

Born: August 30th, 2009

Adopted: 8 years, 6 months, 4 days ago

Adopted: May 29th, 2013

This pet has been nominated for the Pet Spotlight!


  • Level: 126
  • Strength: 315
  • Defense: 314
  • Speed: 307
  • Health: 307
  • HP: 307/307
  • Intelligence: 1
  • Books Read: 1
  • Food Eaten: 0
  • Job: Unemployed

Trigger Warning: Self-Harm & Violence.

Memories of Mia's past life...

They called me Miasma, ironic really as I was the last child born on earth before humanity was cleansed. Sometime ago we could walk outside and enjoy the air. Not long before my birth there was a great calamity. The likes of which humanity had never seen. The air first became poison then people went nuts. Cities fell like cards beneath the plight.

Despite government attempts to calm people down and even though there was an abundance of supplies for each and every person, humanity seemed to fall. People weren't pleased by the idea of toxic air nor were they interested in a respirator that could essentially never come off. Crime rates sky rocketed and bodies filled the streets. Walking alone at night was a death wish, while it seemed some nights day would never come.

I was recruited by OR when I was 10. The organization to regenerate was comprised of a number of ranks. You might think they are activists, I mean the name really does sound like tree huggers. It isn't like that at all. Most of us totted around in riot suits, breaking into enemy territory blazing guns. A lot of OR was scientists attempting to find a cure to replenish oxygen into the air. Those that weren't were called Clove Operatives.

I was a Clove.


The end of Miasma

I considered cutting today. Unplugging or removing it seemed a bit unfruitful. It was so new. I want the toxins to enter my blood stream and rot me from the inside out. Removing it only ended in asphyxiation, what a boring way to go. I wanted to paint the walls with blood. It seemed like no one ever saw blood any more, as if it didn't exist. Our lives lacked as much art as it had oxygen. Something about the world ending sucked beauty out of the world. The sky was always a neutral grey. Everything was just grey.


I heard a call from behind me interrupting my daze, "Let's go."

We got the word. The word came once a week. When it came it was time to paint the city. I rushed through the room pulling on my riot gear. I detested a lunch of bland disgust and ingested the required pills before we could leave. Due to the lack of sunlight from the grey, which they claimed was our collapsed sun, we lack the vitamin D required to be happy. Everyone young and old was forced to take vitamins along with prozac to stop people from going insane. I strapped my rifle to my back and moved on.

The ride to our mission was uneventful as usually, I drove today while my partner briefed me on the mission. I didn't listen. When we arrived it was calm as usual. Always too calm. We opened the doors to a dim lit building. I began scanning while my partner maintained the area.

Something scurried across the ground. Next thing I knew I heard gun shots. My partner stood above a dead creature. It was a critter of some kind. Life escaped it's body with a hiss and dust fluttered into the air. I heard another scurry and turned to shoot one quickly. Then I felt it, the rush of pain hit me. One of them bit me. Dizziness got the best of me, I attempted to defend myself from the creatures. I whipped out my rifle, but by that time I was mostly lost. I spun wildly shooting into the air shooting at anything that caught my eye.

I woke up later to find my partners smashed mask and his lifeless corpse.

That went well...

I stumbled off the ground and grabbed my rifle using it as a crutch to walk. I noticed the lighting had improved a bit. As I staggered around the building, I started to notice a part of the world I never witnessed before. There was paintings everywhere. Art, sculptures, a past everyone in the new world had forgotten. The pain in my leg seemed to be getting worse.

I had deemed a painting of two young girls holding hands was my favourite. It was beautiful. Something about it made the grey world around me turn bright. Maybe unplugging wouldn't be so bad. If this wound didn't do it, that would. At least I could enjoy my last few moments. I removed my mask first. Then I unhinged my respirator. Within moments my eyes became heavy, I dragged my hand across the painting reaching out to the girls, a past I never knew. I'm getting very tired, I think I might sleep.



I took a deep breath and smiled exhaling. The world around me full of life and beauty. I watched two young girls playing on a swing set, after they were done they skipped away holding hands. I decided to paint it, something about the image seemed vaguely familiar and as I stroked the brush to complete the image, I gazed up at the clear blue sky.

It was perfect.


Profile by Cocaine
Profile art by azurea
Story & Character by Kitten

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Portrait of Gold

Portrait of Lace

Portrait of Old Gray

Portrait of Brass

Black And Gold Gas Mask

Black And Silver Gas Mask

Copper And Silver Gas Mask

Copper And Gold Gas Mask

Brass And Silver Gas Mask

Brass And Gold Gas Mask

Green-Lens Gas Mask

Red-Lens Gas Mask

Blue-Lens Gas Mask

Black-Lens Gas Mask

Clear-Lens Gas Mask

Walnut Stained Easel

Ebony Stained Easel

Unstained Easel

Black Artist Acrylic Paint

White Artist Acrylic Paint

Light Blue Artist Acrylic Paint

Violet Artist Acrylic Paint

Red Artist Acrylic Paint

Yellow Artist Acrylic Paint

Green Artist Acrylic Paint

Dark Blue Artist Acrylic Paint

Orange Artist Acrylic Paint

Gamboge Traditional Ink Stick

Vermilion Traditional Ink Stick

Mineral Green Traditional Ink Stick

Mineral Blue Traditional Ink Stick

Blue Traditional Ink Stick

Rouge Traditional Ink Stick

Indigo Traditional Ink Stick

White Traditional Ink Stick

Traditional Ink Stick

Umber Traditional Ink Stick

Cinnabar Traditional Ink Stick

Mineral Blue Traditional Watercolor Chips

Vermilion Traditional Watercolor Chips

Crimson Traditional Watercolor Chips

Burnt Sienna Traditional Watercolor Chips

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Black Paintbrush

White Paintbrush

Jack Cardale Paintbrush

Yellow Paintbrush

Orange Paintbrush

Red Paintbrush

Blue Paintbrush

Brown Paintbrush

Calvin Blackmoon Paintbrush

Puke Green Paintbrush

Green Paintbrush

Orange and Black Streaked Paintbrush

Green and Blue Streaked Paintbrush

Graphite Application Brush

Traditional Bamboo Sheeta Hairbrush

Traditional Bamboo Kumos Hairbrush

Traditional Bamboo Detail Brush

Artist Fan Brush

Artist Mop Brush

Artist Round Brush

Artist Flat Brush

Artist Angle Brush

Artist Filbert Brush

Artist Bright Brush

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Artist Rigging Brush

Black Inkwell

Blue Inkwell

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