This grem is exceptionally tall, standing at around 6'7". His form is lean, svelt, but not 'skinny' (bones don't show through). he's also covered in a thick coat of fur which fills out his shape and is very soft to the touch. His traits include:

Ears: Dumbo

Neck: Royal

Tail: Bun

His dominant blood is bright turquoise/green, and recessive blood is a very soft, pale, fleshy pink. He is rarely seen without his human girl, Sibel.

Dimitrius is a wheelin' dealin' charismatic sort who'll charm your socks off. And your jacket...and that nice hat...and your expensive watch...and your wallet. Even for a grem, he's got a smile that will warm hearts, and his words will play you like a fiddle. He's a conman, through and through--but even if you knew it, you still might find it difficult not to love him.

Despite using his charm to manipulate people out of their goods and money, Dimitrius' sweet talking does come from a genuine place. He had a tremendous faith in people which, perhaps, comes from his time living among the so-called 'worst' of them. He's extremely energetic, extroverted, and does poorly when left to his own devices for extended periods of time.

He and Sibel live as squatters in an abandoned, inner city apartment, but this wasn't always the case.

There was a time when they both lived together in a wealthy suburban home, safely in the middle of a gated community. Sibel was a talented, aspiring ballerina for ever hour of her life when she wasn't at school, and Dimitrius was...well, he was the "help". There was never a time when he didn't love Sibel. That child, now approaching thirteen years of age, was the only wholly good thing that her parents ever had a hand in. Her parents--his legal owners--were the worst kind of wealthy. Anyone who was not among their ranks as wealthy CEO's and investors where automatically assessed as being less skilled, less intelligent, less cultured, less human. Dimitrius was not the only help they had employed, and he wasn't the only help that was berated daily for falling short of their tremendous expectations and very particular requirements. Well...the Father wasn't so bad. He was most certainly obsessive-compulsive, and if his clothing wasn't soaked for an hour in water that was ninety degrees Celsius, he'd interpret it as an attempt on his life. His particularities were easy to appeal to, they were consistent. The mother, however, was flippant and unpredictable. She'd set a new standard every day without a single word said about it--and when the help did things in accordance to yesterday's standard, they were blasted for it. Never mind that, if they dared to preemptively ask her about her expectations at the start of a day, she'd yell at them still for being poor problem solvers of a low IQ. With her, there was simply no winning.

Dimitrius was only every aware of how they treated him and his peers in the household. Those who were brought in from abroad had their passports locked away in a safe so that they could never leave without permission. Those who were not from abroad were grems like himself--and they were treated worse than the dogs. Never once had he expected that their beautiful and beloved daughter, whom they lavished with praise to any friends and guests who'd hear it, was enduring her own struggle at their overbearing hands.

Sibel was tall, lean, and graceful. Her parents had a ballet instructor visit their house every day after school since since kindergarten, and she picked it up like a natural. But it wasn't natural. It was hours and hours of hard, toe splitting work. She had long been forbidden from playing with her friends and schoolmates after hours, as her mother asserted it would distract from her training. Her life was consumed by her mother's dreams of having a beautiful, ballerina daughter... And Sibel was severely depressed by it. Dimitrius had no idea that any of this was the case, until one night, Sibel approached him after her parents had gone to sleep.

"I want to run away." She opened up to him about everything she was going through, her suicidal thoughts, her school bullies, her lack of meaningful friendships, her mother's tremendous pressure to pursue a dream that wasn't even her own. Up until that point, Dimitrius' relationship with the child had been definitely amiable, she had been nothing but kind to him. In exchange, he'd bring her small gifts and offer gestures of appreciation and adoration, not unlike a slightly distant uncle to a fond niece. He had no way of knowing that those small gifts and gestures had the tremendous impact on Sibel of being some of the nicest, most humanizing things that anyone had ever done for her.

Dimitrius made a decision with her that was every bit as immature and irresponsible as it sounds; he helped her pack her belongings and, in the dead of night, they left through the front gate together without once looking back.

A year has passed since then. There's nothing romantic about life on the streets--Dimitrius had listened to Sibel cry herself to sleep on many occasions. Despite it, she still refuses to consider returning back home to her mother and father. Her assertion that life in the urban grime with Dimitrius is much more freeing and rewarding, with great downs, but even greater ups--emboldens him to keep her close and chases away any rational and sobering thoughts of returning back to the gilded cage. The other side to his own unwillingness to return sits squarely within the knowledge that he'd be accused of kidnapping. He doesn't know exactly what kind of punishment would await someone in his situation, but he knows enough to fear it.

The abandoned apartment they live in is shared with a whole community of other homeless, the so called "worst" kind of people, according to Sibel's parents. True, Sibel and Dimitrius have had to stay vigilant and not grow too attached to material goods, as they are likely to be stolen and pawned off eventually... But the same people who'd steal from them were the same people who'd return a week later with a solid meal to give them when they couldn't afford it themselves. As the months passed, Sibel and Dimitrius developed into right proper little con-artists on the street, and the number of nights they'd go to bed hungry became less and less. In recent weeks, they've gained in popularity with the rest of the have-nots sharing their humble apartment home--taking the excess money they've 'earned' and putting it towards feeding and clothing their squatter compatriots. And with that, attempts to steal from them or otherwise make their stay uncomfortable have reduced significantly... Things have been looking up!