Information
Akaw has a minion!
the Giant Manta Ray
the Giant Manta Ray
Akaw
Legacy Name: Akaw
The
Hydrus MaharOwner:
Age: 5 years, 4 months, 1 week
Born: December 12th, 2018
Adopted: 5 years, 4 months, 1 week ago
Adopted: December 12th, 2018
Pet Spotlight Winner
October 22nd, 2019
Statistics
- Level: 1
- Strength: 10
- Defense: 10
- Speed: 10
- Health: 10
- HP: 10/10
- Intelligence: 0
- Books Read: 0
- Food Eaten: 0
- Job: Unemployed
owner: Johnny_673
the 
hydrus mahar
hydrus maharIf you hold the conch to your ear you can hear the sea.
All those years ago, Alann did as one of his sisters suggested. He placed the conch – considerably heavier than he had imagined – to his ear and heard the sea. Not the sea he could hear even without it, the sea his family visited every December as tradition, but the other sea, that sea that is not so much a tangible thing but a concept, a feeling. A feeling that would lingered within him throughout the year in that small town away from the coast.
Over the years, Novembers began to torture him more than anything else. The knowledge December was close but not yet there agonised Alann to the extent that his days were spent waiting for December, thinking about December or, the one his teachers found most frustrating, daydreaming about December. Those daydreams would allow him to drift away from class only to be brought back by the usual exclamations of focus Alann!, pay attention Alann!, and the worst of all: this is your future Alann, take it seriously! Future: the word terrorised him. Throughout those years he had tried so many times to envision it, the kind of adulthood his parents and teachers had already picked out for him. He tried to picture himself sitting in an office with a suit and tie and shiny leather shoes. The tie would begin constricting his neck – asphyxiating him – and as the daydream turned into a waking nightmare, all Alann could think was how, no mattered what, he would never live that kind of life.
Saving him from the self-inflicted agony was December’s arrival. The school year ended but that hardly registered in Alann’s mind – all he could think about was returning to the beach and waves and sun and rented surfboards and the kind of happiness only the sea allowed him.
That happiness never quite left, much to Alann’s parents’ dismay. They lived in a world Alann found strange and incomprehensible, full of deadlines and rules and restrictions and appointments and schedules and in such a world, where could the beach possibly fit? His sisters were more sympathetic but equally miffed. It’s just sand and water, they would tell him between shrugs, can’t you just wait for December?
The last December he waited for was on his eighteenth birthday. As Alann’s last school year reached its conclusion, he found himself at a crossroad. His parents wanted – expected – him to follow in their steps, leave for college, earn a degree, work a job as soulless as theirs; Alann wanted – needed – to leave for the sea. And it was as he boarded a train and looked back at that town one last time that he realised it: that unidentifiable feeling the sea’s sound gave him all those years ago was freedom.
“Hey!”
The man spun on his feet to face the woman in the building’s modest lobby.
“Are we making rent this month?”
Her tone had a mocking sternness Alann knew well.
“I’m planning to.”
His smile turned from sheepish to eager and the woman too could not help but soften her expression.
“I’m looking forward to it, then.”
Conversations with his landlady only became pleasant in recent years. Rent had been a recurring topic ever since he moved into that shoddy building at eighteen, when he showed up with nothing but a suitcase and an eagerness to start life anew. Alann had to beg her on his knees more than once, assuring her he would not only make the month’s rent, but also last month’s and the month’s before that.
That new life Alann dived into taught him a humility his parents and sisters could hardly dream of. Most, if not all, he had taken for granted became a luxury; he had to grow accustomed to picking between paying a laundromat and buying food, between fixing his shoes and buying cough syrup. He had to grow accustomed too to the staring. The modest people who lived in that building did not take kindly to the eighteen-year-old who moved in alone and never made rent on time; the eighteen-year-old who ran out the front door, surfboard under arm, every day at dawn. Their judgment softened over the years. The staring grew into warm smiles when Alann offered to help however he could, their gossiping grew into words of encouragement whenever Alann could spare enough for a new piercing or tattoo. As for Alann, the isolation he felt at first – the same isolation he had felt through childhood and adolescence – grew into a sense of belonging he had only ever thought possible before in dreams.
Waves slammed onto the coats, leaving behind pearly foam. Seagulls flew overheard in search of crabs which hid underneath the sand. Alann had long ago learned how to avoid stepping on them. His parents used to tell him he would starve as a surfer, but he proved them wrong. He felt the day’s first waves against his skin. It had been so many years since he abandoned unhappiness for freedom. That new life came with its hardships – more than he had initially imagined – but in them, he found the strength to do more, do better, learn from himself. Free from his past, Alann’s name too eventually faded like he seafoam on the sand, leaving behind a new name, a symbol of the freedom his new life had blessed him with: Akaw.
profile byJohnny_673
writing byThespian
profile art byNaddi & Johnny_673
background from stocksnap
All those years ago, Alann did as one of his sisters suggested. He placed the conch – considerably heavier than he had imagined – to his ear and heard the sea. Not the sea he could hear even without it, the sea his family visited every December as tradition, but the other sea, that sea that is not so much a tangible thing but a concept, a feeling. A feeling that would lingered within him throughout the year in that small town away from the coast.
Over the years, Novembers began to torture him more than anything else. The knowledge December was close but not yet there agonised Alann to the extent that his days were spent waiting for December, thinking about December or, the one his teachers found most frustrating, daydreaming about December. Those daydreams would allow him to drift away from class only to be brought back by the usual exclamations of focus Alann!, pay attention Alann!, and the worst of all: this is your future Alann, take it seriously! Future: the word terrorised him. Throughout those years he had tried so many times to envision it, the kind of adulthood his parents and teachers had already picked out for him. He tried to picture himself sitting in an office with a suit and tie and shiny leather shoes. The tie would begin constricting his neck – asphyxiating him – and as the daydream turned into a waking nightmare, all Alann could think was how, no mattered what, he would never live that kind of life.
Saving him from the self-inflicted agony was December’s arrival. The school year ended but that hardly registered in Alann’s mind – all he could think about was returning to the beach and waves and sun and rented surfboards and the kind of happiness only the sea allowed him.
That happiness never quite left, much to Alann’s parents’ dismay. They lived in a world Alann found strange and incomprehensible, full of deadlines and rules and restrictions and appointments and schedules and in such a world, where could the beach possibly fit? His sisters were more sympathetic but equally miffed. It’s just sand and water, they would tell him between shrugs, can’t you just wait for December?
The last December he waited for was on his eighteenth birthday. As Alann’s last school year reached its conclusion, he found himself at a crossroad. His parents wanted – expected – him to follow in their steps, leave for college, earn a degree, work a job as soulless as theirs; Alann wanted – needed – to leave for the sea. And it was as he boarded a train and looked back at that town one last time that he realised it: that unidentifiable feeling the sea’s sound gave him all those years ago was freedom.
“Hey!”
The man spun on his feet to face the woman in the building’s modest lobby.
“Are we making rent this month?”
Her tone had a mocking sternness Alann knew well.
“I’m planning to.”
His smile turned from sheepish to eager and the woman too could not help but soften her expression.
“I’m looking forward to it, then.”
Conversations with his landlady only became pleasant in recent years. Rent had been a recurring topic ever since he moved into that shoddy building at eighteen, when he showed up with nothing but a suitcase and an eagerness to start life anew. Alann had to beg her on his knees more than once, assuring her he would not only make the month’s rent, but also last month’s and the month’s before that.
That new life Alann dived into taught him a humility his parents and sisters could hardly dream of. Most, if not all, he had taken for granted became a luxury; he had to grow accustomed to picking between paying a laundromat and buying food, between fixing his shoes and buying cough syrup. He had to grow accustomed too to the staring. The modest people who lived in that building did not take kindly to the eighteen-year-old who moved in alone and never made rent on time; the eighteen-year-old who ran out the front door, surfboard under arm, every day at dawn. Their judgment softened over the years. The staring grew into warm smiles when Alann offered to help however he could, their gossiping grew into words of encouragement whenever Alann could spare enough for a new piercing or tattoo. As for Alann, the isolation he felt at first – the same isolation he had felt through childhood and adolescence – grew into a sense of belonging he had only ever thought possible before in dreams.
Waves slammed onto the coats, leaving behind pearly foam. Seagulls flew overheard in search of crabs which hid underneath the sand. Alann had long ago learned how to avoid stepping on them. His parents used to tell him he would starve as a surfer, but he proved them wrong. He felt the day’s first waves against his skin. It had been so many years since he abandoned unhappiness for freedom. That new life came with its hardships – more than he had initially imagined – but in them, he found the strength to do more, do better, learn from himself. Free from his past, Alann’s name too eventually faded like he seafoam on the sand, leaving behind a new name, a symbol of the freedom his new life had blessed him with: Akaw.
profile by
writing by
Thespianprofile art by
Naddi & background from stocksnap
Pet Treasure
Blue Patterned Surfboard
Bomb-Disguised Surfboard
Flaming Surfboard
Flowery Surfboard
Hydrus Surfboard
Octopus Surfboard
Palm Tree Surfboard
Red Striped Surfboard
Torrent Surfboard
Surfboard Cookies
Darkmatter Swimming Trunks
Flaming Swimming Trunks
Graveyard Swimming Trunks
Bleached Hair Wax
Beach Umbrella
Puka Shell Bracelet